#and while logic brain tells me i can just say no. other logic brain tells me that doing so would be leaving a vulnerable person isolated

[trans-cuchulainn]

hi! we dont know each other but ive stumbled upon your posts in which you describe your anxiety brain and borrowing trouble from the future and i can totally relate to that. and it sounds a lot like ocd, which i know i have... idk if this would be helpful

sometimes i do see things about ocd that i relate to. i think a lot of the underlying thought patterns and fears are probably similar. i don't think i respond to them in the way that somebody with ocd does, though -- i don't experience compulsions and don't find any relief from behaving in certain ways or performing certain rituals, i just experience profound dread and physical discomfort until i'm able to forget about the thing that triggered the anxiety or i move on to something else

my sister has ocd, which i only learned recently (we don't live together and aren't super close), but again, although i see overlap between our experiences, i think we respond to those triggers differently and find different things helpful/harmful. obviously everyone is different so that doesn't rule out the possibility that i'd also have it, but i think it makes it less likely

generally i think my issues are largely attributable to generalised anxiety disorder, some kind of brainweirds (not sure if autistic or have adhd or both), and a solid dose of complex trauma that contributes a fair amount of hypervigilance and fear to the proceedings which make standard anxiety tactics less helpful

i think all mental health diagnoses are labels we give to certain groups of symptoms rather than like. firmly grouped Conditions between which there can be no overlap, though. some aspects of anxiety and ocd are very similar, and some are different -- the same stars in different constellations. i think i score more points in the anxiety chart, so that's where i am for now, but doesn't mean i'm not experiencing some of the same things, if that makes sense (and it also doesn't mean that some coping mechanisms designed for one condition won't work just because i don't think i fit under that label -- sometimes they do)

[mochinomnoms]

So uhhhh...... what other kinks would octavinnle have 😗

🦩

I already went into one I think Jade would have, so I'll list three new ones for each and a brief thing as to why, though it's not their only ones I would say it's some of their top ones.

Azul

Oral fixation: Azul has a refined palate, he can note each ingredient used in dishes with just his tongue! He's learned to put that tongue to good use, so it's logical to assume that he'd like to taste you as well. And Azul does love it so. There is no treat taster than you and your cum on his tongue, and while he's not one to indulge in his meals, for you he'd make an exception. I do hope that you are willing to keep your legs open for a quite some time, after all you wouldn't want to deny him of a treat, would you?

Praise kink: Let's be real, because of his childhood, Azul thrives on recognition and praise for his hard work. When he decides to go into something, it's never half-hearted, especially regarding his love and affection to you. So, praise him! Tell him what a good job he's doing, tell him to keep hitting that spot right there, oh god, Azul, you make me feel so goood~ It makes him feel so so good knowing that only he gets to make you feel like this, that only he gets to hear your voice praising him. It gets him off, so keep doing it at all times, whisper in his ear about how smart and wonderful he is in all aspects, the sweet tone in your voice gets him hot and heavy, turning into a need to keep hearing those honeyed words and show you just how deserving he is of your praise.

Breeding: Out of the trio, he is technically the only one with a mating season (two actually). And while he can usually get over those seasons on his own, with you at his side he instinctually develops a need to breed you silly! Who knew he had such a desire to become a daddy, you'll help him won't you? As his mate? Regardless of whether or not you can actually get pregnant, when the late spring and early fall come, he needs to fill your tummy with so much cum that it hurts! You'll spend at least two months out of the year with bent over or in a mating press until you're shuddering and twitching as milky white fluids are dripping from your hole. Now now, Azul can't have that, so won't you let him fill you just one more time? (It's never just one more time.)

Jade

Shibari: Jade thinks it's fascinating how humans don't have long, winding limbs to wrap their mates and make due with soft, pretty colored ropes. It's even more fascinating seeing the fat of your skin bulge against the ropes. Your chest, thighs, hips, all straining the ropes as your hands are tied against your back, helpless to his poking and prodding. Call him sadistic, but he loves seeing you so helpless underneath him, pretty eyes begging for him to use you and make you feel good. It makes him feel a sort of way to hear you beg to free your hands so you can hold him, dig your nails into his skin as your orgasm inches closer and closer. Jade does love having you be so helpless under him, free for him to use as he sees fit.

Service kink: Jade likes taking care of things, to be depended on. After all, he's so good at being a dependable partner, so why not place all your pleasure into his very capable hands? Be warned, though, Jade can be quite sadistic, and once you place your pleasure into his hands, it belongs to him and only him. There's no need to touch yourself when he hands long, nimble fingers to use, a long furling long to sink into your heat, and attentive eyes that watch and study every single moan, twitch, and breath you take. Jade will make sure that your lust filled brain will be drawn to him, immersed with the mind-blowing rapture he provides. All to the point that you'll only be able to cum through him, whether it be his mouth, hands, or dick. It's fine, Jade does love depend on, especially if it ruins you for anyone else after him. That's if you can bring yourself to leave, after all you'll never find another quite as attentive and caring as he. Jade's made sure of that.

Roleplaying: This plays a bit into Jade's service kink, but he does love dressing you up in cute outfits and making you play a bit. Perhaps he is a butler, and you're his master, bringing yourself down to ruin by a lowly servant as he fucks you into oblivion. Perhaps he's come to collect collateral from you for a deal, and you can only offer yourself. Maybe he's a big bad sea monster, and you're a sweet little human that drifted too far off into the sea. In any case, he loves playing into any of his roles, teasing you as you start of shy like an actor with stage fright. It's wonderful when Jade finally gets to see you lose yourself into your role, all for him. Though, don't be surprised if he decides to turn the table a bit, and dresses you up in a maid costume with a leash and collar. As much as he loves playing his usual role, Jade does also love seeing you coo and tend to him (and his dick) like the pretty, sweet spouse he knows you will be. Go on love, get on your knees and make him feel good. It's your responsibility to clean up the mess of slick you've left on his dick after all.

Floyd

Overstimulation: To no one's surprise, Floyd has plenty of energy to go around once he's interested in something, and you are very interesting to him. He wants to see just how much you can take of him and what he gives you until your crying and begging him to give you a break. But unless you give him your safe word, that delicious orgasm he just gave you is blending into the next as he seeks his own euphoria. But don't think that he won't just ignore his own overstimulation, because he will. Just feels so good for both of you that it almost hurts. And yet, Floyd just can't help and keep going. That yummy high on cloud 9 is gonna keep going, even through your shrieks and cries for a break, the rhythmic slap of skin, the shuddering breaths. He just can't stop, even if he wanted to, oh please Floyd! It's too much! It feels too good-AAAAH~ He'll keep going until you both pass out from sheer sensory overload and exhaustion, his dick still in you and ready to go when you wake back up.

Dumbification: This is a bit surprising, or maybe not, but Floyd loves fucking you until you're so sex-brained that all you can think about his him and his dick. He wants you to love his cock so much that you're bending over and spreading yourself open for him with hearts in your eyes. No thoughts, head empty except for Floyd and his cum. He wants a pretty smile with your tongue lolling out. He wants you to see him taking pictures of him fucking you with your hands forming a heart. He wants you to ignore anything and everything else except for him, because you're his little dummy that can only think about him and his pretty dick that's bruising your insides and shaping you for him. And only him.

Dacryphilia: This should actually come as no surprise, but Floyd gets really horny at seeing your tears streaming down your face. But not from being upset, no, he loves the tears that come from him overstimulating you. They're just so pretty! You're so cute, and he's so big, too big for you, but you try so hard! So forgive him if he's a bit mean, a little rough, and dragging out orgasm after orgasm from you so that you're whimpering and sobbing. Such a sweet sight reserved just for him, as only he can guarantee that these tears come from feeling good and not from something more sinister. Plus, Floyd really likes how you pout at him. It's just so cute!! And he just looooves cute things.

[endlessthxxghts]

Animals

DBF!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈2.5k

Summary: Joel randomly calls you and tells you to meet him outside. Your parents are home though, and you can't necessarily tell them that Joel, your father's best friend, is asking you to go with him somewhere. Do you give a little white lie and leave, or do you wait until it's safer?

Warnings: Age gap (unspecified, but legal). Reader still lives with parents but she is an adult. Nosy and controlling ass parents to their child who's a grown ass adult. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Inappropriate car activities while driving. Handjob. Blowjob. Pulling into a parking lot in broad daylight to do some stuff... P in V unprotected. ✨Save a horse, ride a cowboy (in a parking lot)✨ Reader has bit of a size kink. Cum swallowing... Is there a term for kissing with semen in both y'all's mouths??? (Don't look at me...). Possessive kink. Spanking (just once though). Getting caught... Exhibitionism...😵‍💫 I think that’s as much as I can say without spoiling anything, so! After you read it, let me know if there’s anything that I should put in here that I missed out on!

A/N: One of my all-time favorite songs is Animals by Nickelback. As of lately, though, with all my Joel brain rot, I can't NOT think DBF!Joel every time I play it... so... here we are... I recommend listening before or when you read, just to really add to the experience hehehe.😈 @javierpena-inatacvest I hope you’re hungry!😋 Enjoy, y’all!!!

MASTERLIST

You’re beside me on the seat,

Got your hand between my knees,

And you control how fast we go by just how hard you wanna squeeze.

“Two minutes, get your ass outside.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. You blindly brought your phone up to your ear with your parents in the room with you, not taking the time to check the caller ID. 

“I-” you start as you head to the bathroom, not wanting your parents to overhear anything. “I can’t just leave right now, and especially not with you.” He scoffs over the phone. “I was at the dining table with my parents, jackass.” 

“But you’re not anymore, right?” 

“No.”

“And they didn’t question you?”

“Didn’t give them the chance to.”

“Just get out here. I’ll drive off quick, no one will see,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Joel,” you say, your tone betraying your logical responses.

“Now,” he says before ending the call. 

Your heart racing, you peer at yourself in the mirror, making sure you look semi-presentable even though you know Joel’s intentions are going to ruin your appearance anyway. You leave the bathroom, heading for the front door as fast as possible. 

“Who called ya?” your dad asked. 

“Going somewhere?” your mother followed.

“Just a friend. And I’m gonna step out real quick, I’ll be back in a bit,” you say nonchalantly, not trying to raise any suspicion. Your mother raises her brow at you. 

“I really hope you both find the value in respecting people’s privacy,” you say, stepping out the front door as you speak, erasing the chances of any further commentary. That may have come across more harsh than you would have liked, but even into adulthood, the three of you have gotten into huge fights for your whereabouts. It’s not like you left them in the dark all the time or kept them up late waiting for you to get home. You were living under their roof, so you still respected their time. Yet, it was never enough. And you were too wound up thinking about Joel to bite your tongue.

He parked a house away, and you’re practically running at the speed of light to get into the passenger side so he can pull away before your parents decide to make it to the window to gain any more information they can. 

As soon as you get into the passenger seat, though, Joel has different plans as he immediately puts one hand around your waist and the other on the thigh closest to him. You’re barely able to shut the door before he pulls you into the middle of the bench seat of his truck, your body flushed against his. You squeak out at his quickness, his strength. He smirks at it. 

He lets his hand on your thigh drag up your body and situate itself on your jaw, turning your face to his and kissing you deeply, all tongue and teeth and thickened spit due to how fucking turned on both of you are. 

You pull away, breathless, “Baby, you need to drive off, now.”

“Shit, sorry,” he says, releasing his hold on you. “Stop distractin’ me,” he playfully scolds, a smile full of trouble across his face as he pulls out of the neighborhood. 

You scoff at him now, perplexed at his audacity to tell you that you’re distracting him. It makes an idea pop in your head. You’ll show him a distraction. 

You shift your body to face him. Your hand lands on his thigh, running up and down lightly, getting closer to his hardened bulge that’s been begging for your attention since he dialed your number. 

His grip on the wheel tightens, his jaw twitching, “Darlin’,” he grits. “What are you doin’?”

“Oh, nothing,” you say as you lean in closer, licking a stripe up his neck, your mouth at his ear. “Just,” you cup his erection, “being a distraction.”

His hips push up into your hand. He is painfully hard right now, his entire neck and face a bright red from your ministrations. You unzip his jeans, pulling it and his underwear down to let his cock free. You moan at the sight.

“I’m warnin’ you, girl.”

“Want me to stop?” 

Silence. 

He moves his arm closest to you to sprawl along the back of the bench seat, giving you complete access to him as he attempts to drive you two to God knows where. 

You scoot closer in, and let out a content giggle. You place a wet kiss at his pulse point, whispering in his ear, “Thought so, baby.”

You bring your hand up to your mouth and let your spit pool in your hand, bringing it back down to his length, spreading it all over before you wrap your fingers around him.

“Joel, baby, fuck-” you moan in his ear as you slowly begin pumping him, “look how fucking big you are in my hands,” you whine. “Can barely wrap my hand around you,” you say as you nip at his neck again. 

Joel begs his eyes to stay on the road, knowing that if he were to look down right now, he’d lose every ounce of his control — on both his self restraint and his damn truck. But, God damn, the slapping sound of your hand on his spit-soaked cock as you whine and writhe at his side has him desperate. He glances down for barely a millisecond, and he can’t help the groan that leaves his throat, his head threatening to throw itself back in utter pleasure. 

“Am I doing good, baby?” You ask him. “A good distraction?” You add, your lips ghosting his jaw with each syllable. 

“F-fuckin H-hell, baby,” he stutters, hips softly meeting every push and pull of your hand. “G-gonna make me c-crash this f-fuckin’ car.” 

With his admission, your grip gets a little tighter, pumps get a little faster, and you're giving extra attention to the head of his cock. He’s pulsing beneath you, breathing erratic, and you can’t stop the urge to lean down and take him into your mouth. 

On instinct, Joel’s foot falls a little heavier on the gas, causing him to drive a little roughly over a bump on the road. His dick pushes deeper into your mouth, causing the tip to hit at the back of your throat. 

The spit that forms from your gag reflex gives you an easier ability to devour him just as he likes—warm, wet, and sloppy. Your head begins to bob faster, your hand still supporting the base of him as you periodically cup him below, and he’s an absolute mess. 

You pull away for one moment in a choked breath, your hand now jacking him off, and you look up at him through your eyelashes. 

“I know you’re close, baby, I feel it,” you gasp out as your hand squeezes a little more, at the pressure you know makes him break. “Need you to cum, baby, need you to fill my fucking throat,” and with that, your mouth is back on him. 

“Oh, f-fu-…” Joel nearly growls out, immediately pulling into some random parking lot, thankful the nearest slot was empty. The second the car is in park, he’s shooting his load down your throat, his hand flying to the back of your head to keep you stuffed full of him. 

The way that you’re so turned on right now just by giving him the sloppiest head he has ever experienced has you absolutely dripping—an absolute moaning mess, vibrating him into overstimulation. He pulls you off, and you can’t help the blissed out smirk that forms on your face as you swallow almost everything he gave you, residue dripping down your chin. 

He brings your face to his, and his tongue collects up his own spend, feeding it back to you in a desperate, sloppy kiss—if you can even call it that. 

As your lips tangle in a nasty embrace, he’s quick to rip your bottoms off as he settles you on his lap. The feel on your pussy of his spent cock slowly getting erect again has you moaning into his mouth, your hips grinding down onto him, arousal coating him, urging him back to his full, hard length. 

“Sh-shit,” falls from your mouth as his trails further down, leaving kisses down your throat. Joel brings his hand down to pump himself a few more times, ensuring he’s at full attention. Your hips lift up on instinct, Joel notching his tip at your soaking entrance. 

You lower yourself onto him, going in with ease with how wet both you and him are, the stretch of him still providing that delicious burn. No matter how prepared or lubed up either of you are, that burn will never go away. You never want it to. It flips a certain switch of lust within you—an animalistic need—knowing just how fucking big he is, knowing that it’s all for you. 

Usually when you’re on top, he’s extra sensitive, and you wait for him to give the signal for you to move. That need is there, though, and you can’t wait. As soon as your hips are flushed with his, you’re immediately lifting back up and dropping down on him again, maintaining a brutal pace that has you both uttering incoherent filth. 

You place your hands on either side of his head, gripping the back of his seat to give you better momentum as you bounce on him. His hands are gripping at the globes of your ass, guiding your movements, fingertip-shaped bruises threatening to form. “Fuck, sweet girl,” he lets out, “just like that, baby.” His face is nuzzled in between your breasts, nipping and licking at them with every bounce of your thrusts. 

His words cause your pussy to flutter, a possessive feeling gliding down your spine. Your one hand releases the chair and grasps at the curls on the base of his neck. “T-tell me,” you stutter, “t-tell me who my p-pussy belongs to,” you get out, licking into his mouth before you let him answer. 

His hips begin to meet your movements, his pubic bone providing the cherry on top to unravel you. His lips are against yours, breaths intertwining into the thick air, windows beginning to fog. “Mine,” Joel growls. Your hips speed up, the truck shaking and squeaking with every movement. “This pussy is mine. You,” he breathes, “are fuckin’ mine,” a stinging pain fills your senses before your brain registers the slap to your ass. 

Your thighs begin to shake and your body goes rigid, your climax teetering against the edge. 

“Joel,” you cry out. 

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, let go for me,” he coos. And just as he’s about to hold you down to fuck up into you, a car parks right next to you, door immediately slamming as the person gets out and urgently peers into the driver’s side window. 

Both of you are too close to stop your movements, the person’s face outside the car falling into pure horror and shock at what’s going on inside. 

“Oh!” you scream out, both of you using all your strength to stop but unable to.

“That’s my dad outside the car!”

Oh please, the keys, they’re not in the ignition,

Must have wound up on the floor while we were switching our positions. 

Before you know it, you’re pulsing around his cock as he fills up another one of your holes with thick, hot ropes of his cum. 

Neither of you realize just when your father scrambled back into his car and drove away, but the idea of getting caught turned both of you on more than you’d ever admit. 

You don’t get off of him just yet, both of you sitting in each other’s sweaty embrace as you let your breathing and heart rates return to normal. 

“So…” he says, rubbing circles on the small of your back. 

You look up at him, chin perched on his chest. “So,” you giggle. 

“What the fuck do we do?” he asks, wordlessly referring to the mishap with your father.

Not as worried, you mess with him before giving a serious answer. “Mmm,” you say as you place a light kiss to his chest, “I was thinking you give me your boxers since you ripped the only bottoms I have on me, and you deal with the jeans chafing your balls until you get back home.”

His eyes go wide, completely forgetting that he did that, and silently cursing himself for doing something so stupid. Luckily he decided to actually wear underwear today.

“Oh, fuck, baby, I’m so sorry, I just-” he pauses for a moment. “You fuckin’ distracted me!” he says before he completely busts out in laughter, a deep howl filling the car. You smack his chest, your laughter following suit. 

“You motherfucker,” you say, sitting up a little straighter, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. 

He smiles at you, pure warmth and adoration in his eyes. He clears his throat, his face a little more serious. “I, uh, I was actually talkin’ about your old man, though.”

“I know,” you say, completely unbothered.

“Are you not worried?”

You shrug your shoulders. “No.”

“You don’t think he’s gonna try and wring my neck out?”

“Baby,” you laugh, “no, he’s not gonna wring your neck out. I wouldn’t let him, anyway.”

“Oh, gee. Thanks,” he deadpans.

“I promise you, I’ve got it taken care of.”

His fingers grasp your chin, pulling you in for another kiss, a little longer than the last. “I trust you.”

As soon as you enter the front door, you see both your parents at the dining table again. Though, this time around, instead of controlling and angry, they look pale and embarrassed. 

You stroll to the dining table, not caring to sit down, and you get straight to the point. They can’t even look you in the eye. 

“So? Did we learn our lesson about-”

“Yes,” your parents say in unison, “please just,” your mother continues as your dad starts to retreat anywhere else but here. “Let’s not talk about it.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your chest. 

“You’re a grown woman,” your mother says, rigidly. “It’s really not our business what you do anymore.” You peer at your father. He throws a thumbs up at your mother’s words, eyes still trained on everything else but you. 

“Glad ya guys came to your senses,” you say, offering a smug smile. You can’t help it. If catching you having the steamiest sex in an older man’s car is what causes them to stop breathing down your neck, then so be it. You’d have intentionally done something like this ages ago if that’s what it took. 

You start heading to your room when your dad finally speaks. Still unable to look you in the eyes. “Tell Joel I don’t give a fuck what he does—what y’all do—just,” he pauses to take a breath. “Tell him not to address any of this with me. Ever.”

“Deal.”

No, no matter where we go,

‘Cause everybody knows,

We’re just a couple animals. 

End Note: Well. That killed me. The amount of laps I took writing this...🥴 Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc, — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback for my stories (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @akah565 @pedrostories

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[igbylicious]

whichever way [woosan x reader] pt 2

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits

ch. summary: You follow through with Wooyoung’s suggestion, but it looks like things aren’t ending there.

wc: 7.4k

ch. warnings: hard dom San, bratty sub Wooyoung, voyeur reader, consensual voyeurism/exhibitionism, kink negotiation, m x m, anal sex, rough sex, spanking, masturbation, dirty talk, blowjob, handjob, dumbification & degradation (@ Wooyoung), a hint of dacryphilia, praise kink (@ reader), safeword colour check (it’s green), aftercare

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns

(also the first 2k of this chapter is basically kink negotation i got carried away i’m so sorry lol)

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

“Hey. Sorry, it’s just me today,” San says, opening the door to let you inside. “Wooyoung got called into an extra shift at work.”

It’s just a mere few days after the memorable incident that capsized your entire relationship with your friendly neighbour Choi San, and here you are again, walking into his apartment.

He is still your friendly neighbour Choi San, of course, but now he is also the Choi San that you accidentally walked into while he was fucking his boyfriend — and he will soon become the Choi San who fucks his boyfriend in front of you with full consent from all parties involved.

And right now? Right now he is the Choi San who invited you over for a friendly chat about establishing ground rules.

This is totally fine. You are totally fine.

Somehow, some absurd chain of events has led you to this point, and you can’t quite work out how it happened. You are inclined to blame Byeol for it all, though you’re not sure yet how. It’s her fault for needing to eat, or something like that. If she could just go a week without food, you never would’ve been in San’s apartment that day.

Yeah. This is all on Byeol. Rock-solid logic right there.

“No Wooyoung? Oh, no sure, that’s fine,” you tell San, like it does not take a godlike amount of strength to meet his eyes directly. Like your brain doesn’t conjure up the memory of him sucking and biting at Wooyoung’s neck every time you see him. “Or should we do this some other time, when he can be here, too?”

While you are struggling to keep a tight hold on your one last thread of self-composure, San seems remarkably well-adjusted, especially considering how flustered he had been that day. Now that the initial shock has passed, his mannerisms are relaxed and easy — but you?

Your unexpected surge of Wooyoung-induced boldness had run out of juice approximately two seconds after leaving San’s apartment, and you’d only grown more antsy since then. Your days were spent second-guessing the whole thing and fighting back the urge to look up new apartment listings.

(You can’t decide if San’s ability to stay calm and composed is ridiculously unfair, or if it is for the best. At least one of you has their shit together.)

San looks casual and homey today, dark hair still wet from a shower. He’s wearing comfy socks with grey sweats and a simple black shirt that should, in theory, be oversized; but the fabric clings onto San’s broad chest in a way that is very distracting, his collarbones exposed by the wide neckline.

(That shirt is definitely unfair. Does San have no compassion for your poor nerves??)

“Wooyoung gave me the okay to go ahead without him,” San says, gesturing an invitation for you to step into the living room. “I know what he wants out of this, what his limits are. Is that alright with you?”

You hesitate for a moment — but honestly? If you already struggle this much to keep yourself from bolting out the door with just San in the room, you can’t trust how well you’ll cope with Wooyoung here too. It might take a few extra days to gather the mental strength required so you can face the memories that he conjures in your head. Like when his— (NOPE. Stop! Stop that right now, brain!! Cease and desist!)

“Yeah, if Wooyoung’s okay with it, then I’m okay with,” you say, smiling back at San. Nailed it; you are being so normal about this. “Let’s talk.”

And so you do.

San sits you down on the couch where he joins you, a literal arm’s length away to give you some personal space. He also hands you a mug with a hot drink — your favourite, and you feel a flattered burst of happiness that he remembered from some random smalltalk ages ago.

You weren’t sure what to expect out of this conversation — or actually, you had not expected a conversation at all.

It seemed simpler to just…dive in, as it were. They fuck, you watch; high fives all around afterwards. Probably the most awkward fives that were ever highed but still; pretty straightforward, right?

But San insisted on laying out some ground rules beforehand, and as the conversation unfolds, you understand why.

It’s not that San overwhelms you with a multi-page kink inventory (“Maybe for some other time,” he jokes), nor does he take all the spontaneity out of it with a five-step business plan, laying out what will happen to the smallest details. He just…answers some of your questions, asks some questions of you, forcing you to actually solidify your thoughts about what your boundaries are — even as ‘just’ a spectator.

No, you don’t mind if they get a bit rough. What does ‘a bit rough’ look like to you? Oh, that’s a good question, actually. No, no you’re down for that. Umm, oh that’s quite… Yeah, of course they can talk to you during the scene; you’d feel weirder if they ignore you completely.

You’re no longer surprised that San is so calm today; he is obviously in his element, experienced in this type of kink negotiation. He does let out the occasional self-conscious chuckle — but that only makes him more endearing, his warm nature blanketing the strange formality of hashing out these limits.

Somehow, he strikes a sweet spot between keeping the dialogue casual enough that you don’t feel pressured, but thoughtful enough that you know he is taking you, and this whole thing altogether, seriously.

It helps to put you at ease; San knows what he’s doing, makes you feel like you are in safe hands. He explains how exactly he and Wooyoung use the traffic light system for safe-words, and he is quick to take anything off the table that you waver on, never pressing your boundaries.

Gradually, you find an inner calm in the reminder that you want this to happen, while San’s lack of judgement is a soothing assurance that it’s okay to want this to happen. Every person involved has given their enthusiastic consent — you may have stumbled into San and Wooyoung the first time, but this is different.

This time, you are making the conscious decision to step through the door, knowing what will be on the other side; and you can turn around any time you want to. You just don’t want to.

“Hey, thank you by the way,” San says at one point, “for being so open about this. Makes it a lot easier for me.”

“It does?”

He nods, his eyes curving. “Less stressful when I know what everyone’s expectations are. I don’t mind improvising, but it’s comfortable to have a baseline to work off, you know.”

Huh. You hadn’t thought about it from San’s perspective, but yeah, that makes sense. You tell him this, and thank him for making it easy on you, too. San’s eyes shine as he lets out a small, breathy laugh, like he is the one endeared by you right now.

“What about touching? Did we cover that yet? Maybe it goes without saying, but just to say it anyway,” he continues smoothly. “Off the table, right? Keeps things simpler. We don’t touch you, you don’t touch us. …We’re alright with you touching yourself, though, if you want to.”

San adds the last part so casually that it takes a beat for the suggestion to sink in — but then your breath catches at the thought, your bottom lip sucked between your teeth. For weeks you had held back from touching yourself to their muffled noises, and now they themselves are giving you permission to do so right in front of them? Oof.

“Oh? You hadn’t thought that far ahead, hm?” San says when he notes your dazed reaction, and the curve of his smile goes just slightly cocky. “Give it some thought, I’ll trust you to make up your mind on your own.”

“I think I already have,” you blurt out, resisting the unbidden urge to rub your thighs together.

San leans back, his grin showing a flash of teeth. “Good, I like that,” he says, and the simple confidence of his words does something to you. Something that makes you feel more than a little bummed that you’ll only be there as a spectator — but hey, at least that means you don’t have to bring up your IUD and clean bill of sexual health. “One last thing,” San goes on, “then I think we can wrap this up.”

You give him a curious look, encouraging him to continue.

“Wooyoung can get…mouthy,” San says, cautiously.

…

“No way,” you deadpan. “You’re joking.”

San gives you an exasperated look, one that you’ve caught him giving Wooyoung from time to time, but moves past your comment. “He likes to rile me up, likes it when I’m rough with him.”

This isn’t exactly news to you; where is San going with this? “So, uh, kind of like what was going on when I walked into you guys?”

It’s the first time that you’ve acknowledged what happened, and you can’t tell if saying the words out loud makes you die a little on the inside, or if it sets the most cringe-ridden part of you free. There is something strangely liberating about just speaking frankly; perhaps that is the secret behind Wooyoung’s bold audacity. Shame loses some of its power when you own up to things.

San does fluster a bit; apparently his miraculous recovery from the embarrassment of that day is not as complete as it seems, his endless composure not so endless after all. “Y-yea, no— It’s not…not always that mild,” he says, “the way I talk to him, that is.”

Mild?

You have vivid memories of how San had mocked Wooyoung for cumming untouched, the look on his face, the taunt in his voice. A stark contrast with the soft-hearted man sitting next to you now. So that was mild for them?

…Huh. Interesting.

San manages to recompose himself, while you mull over this new piece of information.

You feel curiosity, but also an instant discomfort that you can’t quite explain. The discomfort causes an immediate reflex to push it all down and ignore it, to pretend that you are fine with anything that San and Wooyoung want to do.

But San sees the hesitation in your face, and you know that you cannot hide your gut feelings from him. He will not let you. You try to relax, and remember that San has literally just thanked you for being open with him; this needs to be an honest conversation. Not only for your comfort, but for San’s.

“It’s not a judgement thing,” you immediately rush to reassure him. The last thing you want to do is imply that you’re kink-shaming him or Wooyoung. People like what they like, it’s got nothing to do with you. (Except this time it does have something to do with you, since you will be right there.) “I’m fine with anything like what I already heard, but hard name-calling or something like that… I’m not sure. It’s just—”

It’s just that San and Wooyoung have built a foundation, able to lean on their experiences and mutual trust when the harsher words come into play. They know that every degrading insult has the purpose to make the other feel good, even if it may seem counter-intuitive on a surface level. You are an outsider looking in — and you struggle to predict how you’ll respond to anything less ‘mild’; whether it will be just as exciting to you as it is to them, or only upsetting.

(Rationally you also know perfectly well that San would never say anything that Wooyoung isn’t on board with; but the connection between rationality and arousal is shaky at best.)

“No need to explain yourself,” San says, waving your concern away with his hand, “it’s all good. I’ll make sure it doesn’t go too far. There’s more than one way to deal with Wooyoung.” He adds a wink at the end, a cocky undertone in his words, but there’s still a hint of shyness burning at his ears. The dichotomy of it all is ridiculously endearing.

San walks you out the door, where he stops you for just a moment. “Sorry again for forgetting to text you,” he says. His smile is apologetic, but the sharp edge of embarrassment seems to have worn off of him too, the words calm. “I’m happy we’re doing this, Woo and I had been trying to think of a way to bring it up with you, I just— It would’ve been nice if we’d figured something out before…you know.”

You pat his arm, reassuring him that it’s all good between you. The catalyst to this turn of events had shaken you, but now? Now you feel steady in walking forward. Still a bit nervous, but (mostly) good nerves. Steady.

(Maybe you ought to buy Byeol some extra treats.)

“What would that conversation have even looked like?” you ask with a small chuckle. “‘Hey, want to watch us fuck?’ I mean, yeah, but that’s still pretty wild to ask your neighbour out of the blue.”

“And there we were, so worried about scaring you off,” San says, laughing.

“Well,” you say, puffing up your chest, “as you can see, I don’t scare easy.”

It’s just a line to poke fun at yourself and the whole situation, but San gives you another of his easy, confident grins, adorned by dimples. “No, you don’t. I like that too.”

You had worried that your discussion with San would take the excitement out of things, but those worries are unfounded. With the worst of your stress out of the way, anticipation has a chance to build up — and in a way, it’s kind of refreshing to have some idea of what to expect out of this, even if you won’t participate directly. No fumbling around blind to figure out what works for everyone, where the limits are. Just clarity.

Besides, it’s not like you have a play-by-play of what will happen. The only thing you know for sure is that you’re in for a memorable night.

Wooyoung confirms the latter as soon as he opens the door to greet you with a sly grin, biting his bottom lip.

“It’s good to see you again,” he says playfully, completely unbothered that he was buck naked the last time you saw him. Now he is wearing tight leather pants with a simple short-sleeved black shirt that shows off his arms — and again with the wide neckline! What is it with these damn men and their stupidly attractive collarbones!

Wooyoung notices how you check him out and preens immediately. He pushes his hair back with a suggestive wink, striking a little pose. “It’s a sexy look, right? Right?”

“Woo, don’t tease her,” San calls out from inside the apartment.

There is something about San’s voice that has you on alert, an edge of authority that you never heard from him before; but Wooyoung appears immune to it.

“I wasn’t teasing!” he calls back, rolling his eyes while he gestures you to come in. You note how his gaze lingers on the short skirt you’re wearing, but also that he does not touch you on the way to the bedroom; is he already taking the ground rules into account? You feel that slight pang of disappointment again; Wooyoung’s ass just looks so pinchable in those pants.

The lights are dimmed in the bedroom, and you step through the door with a mix of excitement and nerves — but they still are good nerves, only enhancing the excitement. San is already inside, waiting for you and Wooyoung.

This moment marks the first time you’ve ever seen Choi San shirtless.

You suck in a sharp breath, unable to help yourself.

You should not have been surprised; you’ve seen his arms on hot summer days where he hangs out in a sleeveless shirt, you know how wide those shoulders are just from seeing him in his regular clothes. And with the knowledge that San is one, a martial arts instructor and two, a certified gymrat to top it off; no, you should not have been surprised.

Not by the shadowed definition of his abs, not by the smooth expanse of his chest, tapered down to a slim hips where a faint treasure trail disappears into the waistband of his baggy, faded jeans. Add the tension in his jaw, his sharp narrowed eyes, the imposing posture; and San has undergone a total transformation, unrecognisable from the gentle guy next door.

You have always thought of the two men as gorgeous, but fuck. Whatever the you of a previous life has done to earn you this today, you send her a silent thanks.

San is unfazed by your moment of stunned admiration, simply showing you the comfy chair he’s readied for you. You sit down meekly; you may not be involved in the scene directly, but his dominant air still wraps around you. Usually you would describe San’s appearance as masculine handsomeness balanced with a perfect dose of cuteness, but now there is an edge of roughness to him, even by just standing there.

Wooyoung looks from you to San, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

“What are you doing, showing off like that?” he says; bold words for a man who just posed to show off his (admittedly fantastic) ass in those leather pants. “You really want to impress her, trying to look tough, huh? Just do what you always do, geesh, that’s already fucking hot enough.”

The compliment slips past almost unnoticed, but Wooyoung turns to you before San has a chance to react. “Did you know,” he goes on, with the grin of a born troublemaker, “Sannie seriously did push-ups before you got in here. I think he’s nervous, isn’t that cute?”

His grin widens when you crack into a smile, so caught off guard by Wooyoung’s reveal that you have to muffle a laugh. It is cute.

San’s face goes dark while he watches Wooyoung mouth off. Your sweet neighbour would be flustered by the callout, but San isn’t your sweet neighbour right now. He has slipped into a different mode, and won’t be knocked out of it by Wooyoung’s antics.

Instead he takes two long strides across the room and without warning, grabs Wooyoung’s chin, tilting it up. “I think it’s time you shut your mouth and use it for better things,” San says, his voice rough.

Wooyoung softly gasps a surprised ‘ahh’, his body instantly reacting to San’s forceful touch. San’s eyes flash at the way Wooyoung’s back arches, a sharpened half-smile on his lips.

(“He likes to rile me up,” San had told you — but clearly San likes to be riled up, too.)

San pulls Wooyoung forward, mouths clashing in an aggressive kiss. Immediately he palms the crotch of Wooyoung’s leather pants, kneading at the growing bulge. Wooyoung groans, his teeth digging into San’s bottom lip while his hands cling onto broad, bare shoulders to keep his knees from buckling.

You rub your thighs together at the sight, a familiar pressure building in your lower abdomen. Your breaths go shallow, eyes unsure of where to focus.

Down to the smooth roll of Wooyoung’s hips as he humps into San’s hand, up to the way their jaws shift as the kiss gets messier; giving you more and more sloppy peeks at their tongues sliding together with wet, eager moans. San’s grip on Wooyoung’s chin is still unrelenting, manoeuvring the shorter man in whichever way pleases him.

A slow hand travels down your thigh, knees parting by instinct as your fingers slide in between. You’d wisely foregone on underwear, and you can feel the easier slide through just one layer of fabric, a growing damp spot where you rub the skirt against your clit. Your inhibitions are lowering rapidly, a soft whine joining Wooyoung’s loud one when his hips begin to stutter — and San immediately pulls away.

“F-fuck,” Wooyoung hisses, chasing after San’s hand. “C’mon, just let me—”

“And let the show end so quickly?” San asks, finally releasing Wooyoung’s chin to give him a condescending pat on the cheek. “That’s real greedy of you, Woo.”

Wooyoung scoffs. “You know I can go for more than one round, you’re just being a— f-fuck, San—!”

With a sharp smack, the flat of San’s hand strikes against Wooyoung’s ass. Just from the sound, you think even San’s palm must hurt from the impact against leather. Wooyoung jolts forward, mouth fallen open as he pants for hard breaths. He lets out another moan when San tangles his hand in those fire red locks of hair, forcing Wooyoung’s head at an angle.

“You think you deserve to cum more than once, after mouthing off like you just did?” San says, his voice cool, an almost detached expression on his face. “You’re lucky I don’t call the whole thing off right here.” His free hand undoes the button of his jeans, the sound of his zipper loud in the quiet bedroom. He is not wearing anything underneath. “Here, prove that you’ve earned one at all, or do you want to disappoint our guest? On your knees. Now.”

For a moment Wooyoung looks ready to balk — but then his eyes dart to you and he visibly swallows down a retort, obediently getting down.

Obedient, for you.

Your fingers press down a little harder into your cunt, aching at Wooyoung’s compliance, all to please you. The barrier of fabric becomes increasingly frustrating, its damp spot growing outright soggy as you whine a soft moan.

Wooyoung’s eyes immediately snap back to you, glittering as he watches the swirl of your fingers, the tensing of your thighs, partially covered by the skirt that is slowly riding up. He licks his lips, eyes hungry.

San chuckles at Wooyoung’s meeker demeanour. “So eager to have her watch you suck my cock, hmm? Would’ve done this much sooner if I’d known how quick you’d be down on your knees.” He runs his hand through Wooyoung’s red hair, forcing him back to the task at hand.

Wooyoung stares up with a glower, wrapping his hand around the thick, half-hard cock. He parts his lips and leans in — for a small, rebellious bite on San’s hip.

San hisses, his grip on Wooyoung’s hair tightening. “Play nice,” he warns in a low growl. “I can still change my mind about all this.”

Silently, Wooyoung simply laps his tongue at the bite; to soothe the mark, but also to take pride in it. A last act of defiance before his mouth closes around San’s cock with a soft wet sound, and he hollows his cheeks as he sinks down.

You’re spellbound, watching how Wooyoung noisily sucks and bobs his head. Moaning decadently, heavy-lidded eyes transfixed on San’s face. San takes shallow breaths, staring right back at Wooyoung and the glossy shine of spit that spreads over his hardening cock with every pass of Wooyoung’s mouth. You swallow thickly when Wooyoung’s cheek bulges, his fingernails lightly scratching the exposed skin of San’s thigh. It must be sensitive; San bites his lip, his hand balling into a fist in Wooyoung’s hair.

“Little faster, Woo. Work for it,” he says, his voice slightly hoarse. “You think I’ll take it easy on you just because we have company?”

Wooyoung lets out a whiny noise but eagerly follows the lead of San’s hand guiding him, now working his cock in earnest as his speed picks up. Drools escapes the corner of his mouth, more dribbling down with every muffled wet moan.

Desperate for friction, Wooyoung’s hips roll forward uselessly — but San stands still as a rock in contrast, content to make Wooyoung’s swollen lips slide up and down his thick length. He’d look utterly unaffected if not for the rise and fall of his chest with hard breaths, his jaw clenched as he watches Wooyoung go deeper with every pass.

Your last shreds of inhibition crumbles away, the sharp pulse in your cunt harder and harder to ignore. You are burning, and your boldness grows in direct proportion to your desperation for relief. A hand slips underneath your skirt, and you sigh at the direct contact, greeted by a slick mess.

San’s eyes flicker to you at the sound, his eyes piercing into the point where your wrist disappears underneath your clothes. You aren’t sure how much he can see, your skirt hiked up but still providing some cover — but you are sure he can hear the faint squelch of arousal as you fall into a rhythm, fingers sliding across your clit in familiar, toe-curling patterns.

You can’t even feel shy anymore at San’s enthralled stare, so deep in the chase for pleasure that his attention only spurs you on. Soft gasps for breath, your lips parting to give free passage to a shameless moan.

“Fuck,” San curses softly, and pulls Wooyoung’s mouth off of him.

Wooyoung is dazed, his eyes a little glassy, and he is reluctant to part his lips from San’s cock. He looks up in hazy confusion, lifting a hand to wipe his smeared face clean.

“Leave that,” San snaps, lightly smacking Wooyoung’s hand away. “Clothes off. On the bed.”

Wooyoung is too far out of it to even consider disobeying, his movements rushed and clumsy as he strips down. San is more controlled as he shucks off his jeans, then grabs for a bottle of lube from his nightstand. He watches approvingly how Wooyoung get on all fours, squeezing the base of his cock to take the edge off before he joins his boyfriend on the bed.

“Here,” he says, grabbing onto Wooyoung’s hips to manhandle him into a position where you get almost a full profile view, then roughly turns Wooyoung’s head towards you. “Let her take a good look at that face, what a pretty mess you made of yourself.”

Wooyoung is a pretty mess; eyes unfocused and mouth hanging open, lips and chin glistening with saliva and precum, his red hair unruly but pushed back to expose his forehead and the small studs of his eyebrow piercing. He is breathing shakily, bent down on his forearms; his back arches prettily, pushing his ass up into the air, and he rocks back in anticipation of having San’s hands on him.

But Wooyoung’s eyes slowly come back into focus when they fall on you, mesmerised by the same view that captivated San only a moment before. He hisses when you bite back a moan, deliberately shifting your thighs to make the skirt ride up higher. “Talk about pretty messes,” he groans. “Fuck.”

You whine, the praise blooming hotly in your abdomen. It’s hard not to squirm under Wooyoung’s heated gaze; so you don’t bother to try and stop yourself, hips rocking forward to meet your fingers as one trails down to press inside you, just a shallow dip, teasing yourself — and Wooyoung.

He groans unabashedly and burrows his face in the sheets, like the sight is too much for him to handle, his back arching deeper.

“That’s it,” San says in a silk-smooth voice, running his hand across Wooyoung’s spine, before drawing back to squeeze at his ass. “You’re enjoying yourself like this, aren’t you? Putting yourself on display like—” San bites something back, shaking his head. (You realise that you wish he hadn’t held back.) “How is it, Woo? Is it just as good as you thought it’d be, hm?”

“Better,” Wooyoung rasps, a crack in his voice. “It’s better, f-fuck, San…”

San chuckles, coating two fingers with a generous amount of lube. “See? That’s what happens when you behave. Never say I don’t reward obedience.”

You can’t quite see from this angle, but you still know exactly when San pushes inside Wooyoung. He shudders at the intrusion with a pleased moan, turning his head to glance back at San. He grins, just a little cheeky, when San’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Did you—?” San blinks, but then his eyes curve into a pleased smile. “You already prepped for this, babe? So considerate,” he purrs, squeezing Wooyoung’s ass in approval. He goes for another finger, just a few passes, but quickly pulls back to slick up his cock instead. “I could get used to this, you’re spoiling me today.”

“It wasn’t for you,” Wooyoung retorts. “Don’t get carried awa-aah—!”

The words are knocked out of him when San lines up and buries himself in Wooyoung’s tight hole in one smooth thrust.

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that, Woo,” San says, panting slightly. He palms Wooyoung’s ass, then strikes with just enough force to have Wooyoung garble a choked moan. “I’d almost think you were mouthing off again, but that can’t be right, can it?”

“You’ll know when I’m—fuck, nghh!”

San quickly sets a hard pace, and your eyes go wide at the aggressive snap of his hips, brutal and hypnotising. You stop teasing yourself, two fingers picking up speed to match him, the heel of your hand rubbing against your clit. It’s not enough, not nearly enough compared to what you see, and you groan in frustration, pushing yourself to stretch around a third finger, arousal smeared on your thighs and dripping onto the chair.

Wooyoung moans and whimpers loudly with every thrust — noises that you are already familiar with, but never heard so closely, so clearly before, no more walls in between you and him.

San’s teeth are gritted, sweat falling down his chin. He keeps up the punishing slam of his hips as he fucks into Wooyoung, whose upper body crumples into the bed under the relentless onslaught. His knuckles are pale from how hard his fingers clench onto the sheets, prominent veins in his forearms.

Shamelessly, you flip back your skirt entirely and use your free hand to press at your clit at a better angle, wishing desperately for a vibrator; for Wooyoung’s thighs to hump and grind against; for San’s cock plunging inside of you. Their mouths on you, devouring you whole. You whimper as the fantasies pile onto the reality in front of you, augmenting each other and pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Wooyoung looks close to that edge too, his brow knitted, eyes squeezed shut; a faint glimmer of tears on his lashes. Drool gathers on the sheet under his mouth, nothing but garbled nonsense leaving his lips.

“Any smart words, hm?” San demands, grunting tightly from keeping up his pace.

Wooyoung can only moan, squirming in San’s hold. San’s fingers dig harder into his hips, forcing him to take and take and take his cock, over and over again.

There is a triumphant glint in San’s eyes at Wooyoung’s incoherent state, barely able to string two words together. “That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, laying down another smack on Wooyoung’s ass. You can see the reddening imprint even from where you’re sitting. “Never takes long before you’re fucked dumb on my cock.”

Wooyoung sobs, teething at the bedspread as a thick tear rolls down his cheek. You inhale a sharp breath at the sight, shooting through you like lightning.

San hears your gasp and freezes for a moment, immediately turning his head to you. His hips slow down to a shallow rocking, much to Wooyoung’s frustration, but San is focused on you; unsure whether your response is rooted in arousal or something else. “Colour,” he asks, firmly.

“Green,” Wooyoung whines loudly, “it’s green, you fucker, don’t stop now—”

San smacks his ass with a sharp hit. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he warns and Wooyoung shuts up — though he does not stay quiet, whimpery moans escaping him as he pushes his ass back.

But San pays him no further attention right now, looking at you. His expression is somewhere halfway between the hard dom of tonight and the gentle neighbour that you know; wanting to know for sure that he did not overstep in his degradation of Wooyoung.

You nod, vigorously. “Green,” you say in agreement, “very green.”

The way Wooyoung is losing himself in the thrill over this treatment, the way he revels in pushing San just to make him push back; he visibly gets off on the consequences of his bratty actions — and that is getting you off too.

San holds your gaze a moment longer, like he is gauging the honesty of your answer. Then he nods, with a wink so quick you almost miss it.

“You hear that, Woo? She likes me talking to you like this,” he purrs, leaning over to catch the tear on Wooyoung’s cheek with his tongue. He briefly rubs his nose against Wooyoung’s temple and straightens back up, quickly picking up the pace again.

But Wooyoung has lifted his head, coming just slightly out of his stupor at the sound of your voice. He looks in your direction; at perfect eye level with your leaking cunt, and the three fingers sunk deeply inside.

His face contorts with a pained groan, fingers twitching in the sheets. The lewd display of you fucking yourself on your fingers breaking through his last shred of self-control. “Oh fuck,” he hiccups. “Look at that wet pussy. F-fuck, been so long since I last buried myself in a juicy cunt like that.” He is full-on rambling now, his tongue thick and speech slurred.

You whimper, clenching around your fingers. No touching, you remind yourself. It’s just talk.

“Wanna suffocate between those thighs, god you’d taste so good I just know it,” he babbles, high on the thought of you, and the mental images blaze through your head like wildfire.

He would tease, you are dead certain of it; he’d drive you mad on purpose until you grab his hair and grind into his face, exactly as he wants you to — fuck, that gorgeous slope of his nose looks just perfect to ride up against your clit—

“Woo…” San says warningly, but he is deaf to it.

“Can I—” Wooyoung sobs, repeating the words like a chant, Can I— Can I— Can I—

“Y-yes.”

It slips past your lips before you can think it through. Quiet and desperate; but Wooyoung hears. San hears. He tuts sharply, mercilessly intercepting the shaky hand that Wooyoung reaches out to you.

“You know the rules, Woo,” he chides, but even without him looking your way, it still feels partially directed at you too. “Or are you so drunk on my cock that you can’t remember something that simple? Tell me what the rule is, now.”

“N-no touching…” Wooyoung whines.

San nods in approval, and rewards Wooyoung by reaching around to wrap a firm hand around his neglected cock. “Good,” he coos. “Look at you, you poor thing. So drunk on cock but still starved for pussy.” San’s eyes are on you now, and you’re taken aback by the hunger there, like he has mixed feelings on reinforcing the rule.

“Can’t even blame you for forgetting,” he says with quiet intensity, the smooth roll of his hips losing their aggressive edge, his hand working a little faster instead. Wooyoung makes a noise of complete debauchery, burrowing his face back into the bed with a desperate moan. “What a mess she is making, dripping on my chair,” San goes on, licking his lips, “all just for us. So cruel of me, dangling her in front of you like that. A pretty cunt like that deserves to be worshipped.”

The praise blooms hotly in your core, and with a flash you realise this is San’s way of reassuring you he is not upset about the push against boundaries. Suddenly the heat wraps into a sharp coil, and you’re not sure what does it; San’s hungry praise or the desperate stutter of Wooyoung’s hips as San jerks him off, slick wet noises mingling with shaky whimpers. They pick up in speed as Wooyoung rushes towards his own peak, dragging you down with him into his unravelling.

You fall apart right after he does, broken by his choked up sobs; by him futilely twisting and wriggling against San’s strong grip. Your thighs shake, toes curling, the slide of your fingers against your clit just right — but the sight of the two men in front of you even more potent. Your hips jerk up as pleasure surges through you, mouth falling slack in a silent cry.

Desperately, you try to keep your fingers moving, to ride out this wave for as long as you can; all while watching how San’s palm glistens wetly as he lets go of Wooyoung’s cock and grabs onto his waist, yanking him back as San fucks into him, shifting focus to his own release. Wooyoung is nothing but a crumpled, snivelling mess but still he groans eagerly, encouraging San to use him.

San does just so, leaning over Wooyoung’s prone body to bite at his neck as San ruts into him, panting for breath. San’s moans grow higher than you expected, his low grunts fading away; if he was putting on a tough front when you first came in the bedroom, he no longer is now, too preoccupied with chasing his high.

Somehow it feels vulnerable, his dominant coat slipping off his shoulders. Like it’s something you’re not supposed to see — except he does let you see, lets you watch how the persona falls away as he slowly comes undone. Your breath hitches, a sharp moan catching in your throat as suddenly the aftershocks of your first orgasm stir with renewed life; and just like that you cum again, biting down your noises as though not to disturb San, trembling quietly in the chair as you watch, entranced. San’s hips finally stutter with a loud whine and then he stills entirely, pressing his face between Wooyoung’s shoulder blades with a drawn-out shudder.

With a weak moan your hands fall away; your body spent as though you are the one who just got fucked within an inch of your life.

The bedroom goes silent, almost.

Everyone is catching their breath, and Wooyoung makes an unintelligible sound when San pulls out and gently lowers him onto the bed. San’s eyes go soft as he brushes the hair out of Wooyoung’s face, kissing him on the forehead before he straightens up.

While you and Wooyoung lay boneless, slowly recovering, San rolls his shoulders and stretches his limbs with a quiet grunt, then grabs a robe to put on. He goes back to the nightstand, this time for a bottle of water. You never even noticed the two glasses that he clearly prepared beforehand, along with a few washcloths. He fills a glass, dampens a cloth, and returns to Wooyoung’s side.

Wooyoung hums in thanks as San helps him upright and hands him the glass of water. He takes a slow sip while San starts to wipe the sweat and other bodily juices off his skin, a grin bubbling up to his lips as his energy recharges. “Did so well, Sannie,” he says, stealing little touches with his free hand while San cleans him up. Eyes glittering with pure adoration. “Took such good care of me, you always do.”

“Shush. Drink your water,” San chides him, but his cheeks glow red at Wooyoung’s steady babble of praises.

The intimate sight of San and Wooyoung in their little bubble causes an unexpected fuzzy warmth to bloom in your chest; touched that they also trust you as an audience for this part, the quiet aftermath. It’s making you strangely timid after all that just transpired, smoothing down your skirt almost subconsciously.

Finally San takes the now empty glass back from his boyfriend. He pulls a blanket across Wooyoung’s body and helps him settle on the bed, where Wooyoung immediately snuggles up against a pillow and lets his eyes rest. (For a guy who made a point of ‘being able to go more than one round’, he sure is out like a light.)

San leaves a final peck on the top of Wooyoung’s head and sits back up, then goes to fill the other glass. He brings it to you with a fresh cloth, and hands you the drink. You take it with a grateful nod, but blink in surprise when San leans in to dab the sweat off your forehead.

He seems to suddenly realise what he has done, freezes instantly, then yanks his hand back as though burned. “Sorry,” he mumbles awkwardly, whispering so he won’t wake Wooyoung back up. “Forgot the damn rule myself.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, taking the cloth off his hands with a small, tired smile. You really didn’t mind. Did it even count now, during the aftercare?

San returns the smile. “Don’t tell Wooyoung, will you? I won’t hear the end of it,” he jokes, and you raise your thumb and forefinger to your lips to ‘zip’ them closed.

“Your secret is safe with me,” you promise solemnly, but the serious expression does not last for long; pushed out by the undeniable urge to tease San. “Besides, it’s nice to have some blackmail in case I ever need a favour from you.”

“Seriously?” he scoffs. “You’re as much of a handful as Wooyoung, aren’t you?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment!”

“Don’t tell him that, either,” San says with a soft laugh, shaking his head.

It is silent again, and you wonder if you should feel awkward, cleaning yourself up right in front of San. You should, right? But he isn’t watching you anymore, simply keeping you company in the quiet, and somehow the whole thing just feels easy and natural. So you wipe the washcloth across your thighs with a ginger touch, avoiding the places where you are most sensitive. Just a quick pass to clean the worst of the dried arousal and sweat sticking there. You’ll take a proper shower at home.

“About what happened…” San says after a while, when it’s clear you have settled and are breathing a little easier, “what Wooyoung said. What you said—”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry. We did agree on no touching beforehand, I shouldn’t have pushed it.”

He snorts. “You weren’t the only one pushing. But no, it’s fine. I told you, I don’t mind improvising, but in this case…” San hesitates, like he’s not sure how much to say. “Woo is a bit more impulsive than me during a scene. I… like clarity. I like knowing for sure that nobody does anything they might have second thoughts about later. Maybe I’m too cautious sometimes, but that’s how it works for me. So I didn’t shut it down because of you, I want you to know that. That was for me.”

“I understand. You feel responsible for him during a scene like this, right?”

“I am responsible for him. And for you too,” San gently corrects. “That’s how I see it, at least. It’s part of what I signed up for.”

“‘Signed up for’?” a hoarse voice echoes from the bed. “What am I, a job?”

“A full-time one, Woo,” San fires back without missing a beat, smiling fondly as he says it. “How long you’ve been listening in?”

Wooyoung’s head pops out from underneath the blanket, his red hair in complete disarray. But his eyes are already clearer than they were just a few minutes ago; maybe you should give him some credit for his recovery time after all.

“I don’t have second thoughts this time,” he mumbles, his speech still a little slurred.

San just nods in acknowledgement, and turns to you with an inquisitive look. The implied question is all too clear.

“No second thoughts here either,” you agree. No point in getting shy now.

“Well,” San says, and that easy, confident grin is back on his face, “then I guess we’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“Mm, good,” Wooyoung says, turning over to his other side to get settled again. Then he glances back at San, a spark of trouble in his eyes. “Do you need a refresher on the ground rules before that happens, Sannie? Just in case you forget any?”

“Dammit,” San groans under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. Brow furrowed in pain, he gives you a reproachful look for the laugh that you unsuccessfully try to muffle. “So much for your blackmail,” he sighs.

[orphicwitt]

YOU DON'T DESERVE THIS FATE

note; yes i somehow got into poppy playtime fandom and here a little treat.

-

You were exhausted, scared yet you continue to push foward. Shaky hands gripped onto your shirt, wrinkles formed on the battered dirty used to be white fabric.

you wanted to leave the moment you step into this place, your very gut screamed to get out while your logical side of your brain begged you to leave and don't go further.

but you didn't, you ignored every red signal that was present to you. you continue foward like it was nothing, it was your own action and you once questioned yourself.

do you regret being here?

the answer was, ...Maybe

one side of you regret setting a single foot here yet the guilt consumed your very being, it haunt you to the bones. you hated it, you want to get rid of it, to relief it, to ...

Focus! you thought, shaking your head. you are getting distracted from your main task, the longer you take. the more time you are forced to stay at this damn wretched place.

you came across an area, an area that look like a prison cell judging by the numerous cell that was littered and sat beside each other.

as you look around the place, a voice spoke. scaring the shit out of you, "you... you're poppy's angel" the voice was raspy yet sounded so tired, you turn around to look for the voice, only to be horrified to see who's belong to.

it was a smiling dog mascot, hanging, you guess it was dogday due to you encountering his cardboard. "come to save us" the mascot wheezed out, it sound like it was taking a toll on him heavily just to speak.

well... he only has half of his body afterall, dear god. it must be so painful for him just do the simplest thing.

"nothing left to save,..."

"not here"

you furrowed your brows, progressing the dog mascot's word. before you could let out any words, dogday continued. "you're in catnap's home, angel... their home"

their home? is he referring to the little smiling critter version of them? you guessed so.

"a million pairs of eyes are on you, now" dogday lifted his head up trying to meet your gaze, gosh. you will never get over how some mascot are just giving you creepy vibes.

"watching, waiting, hungry. they want nothing more then just to crawl beneath your skin, and eat away at you bit by little bit..."

now that's just... you shudder unintentionally at his word, well. your not letting yourself to become food or basically fresh meat to them also not him aswell.

dogday took a short intake of breath before he continue "and fill what empty inside themselves." he then fully face you, "that ...thing... catnap" you take notice of his change of tone when he mentioned catnap, a lingering of fondness yet so distant.

"the prototype is his god"

"and this is what he does to heretics, these little toys... they followed catnap to avoid that very fate...- and in return, they are fed"

"we tried to fight it, the prototype control."

"i'm... the last of the smiling critters" he then look at you, despite his endless depth of darkness eyes and the never ending wide smile, you could tell he was desperate.

"listen to me angel, you need to get out of this place" this time you spoke up, "without you? i don't think i can do that" you huffed, crossing your arms.

"angel... you don't have to, i will only slow you down-"

"Dogday, i'm not leaving you, not on my watch." you stubbornly stated, even he was half of catnap's size without legs, you don't want to leave him, to die in an endless painful toture. you wanted to save him, it was the least thing you can do after defeating huggy wuggy and mommy long legs.

you shakily curled your fists up, you didn't mean to kill them but can they blame you? you did it out of self defense yet you still feel terrible. you wish you can save all the toys.

from this mess.

from this toture.

from this pain.

"you can say all you wanted but i will state firmly that i won't leave you behind." after saying that, you went to set him free. it took some time as well firing some flare to keep those nasty little smiling critters away from attacking.

although you doubt you can carry him but you still tried it away, oddly successful and huffed as you stood up with dogday wrapping himself around your form.

"angel... are you sure this is not heavy for you? i can-"

"i am doing very wonderfully, dogday. don't mind it" it was a flat lie, he was heavy by dear lord. but you endure it for him.

"thank you, you're ...really are a angel in disguise."

"you're welcome, now Off we go!"

[maxiemclaren]

Can you please do one where Oscar and Y/N get a cat together? Ty x

The Orange Tabby

Warnings: fluff with a little angst

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

Summary: you try to convince Oscar to get a cat and he caves.

a/n i honestly blacked out while writing this so let’s hope you enjoy!

“Babe please, just look at how cute they are!” you pleaded with the biggest puppy eyes you could muster, showing him all the cats that were up for adoption at your local shelter. “y/n, love you know how much traveling we do there is just no logical way we could have a pet right now, I’m sorry” he says pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, searching your face for a reaction, you just sigh and fall into his chest and mumble out “fine, I guess one of us has to be realistic”

Over the next few weeks you keep trying to bring up adopting a cat practically anytime you could. When he was working out, making meals, practicing on the sim, even some times when he was in meetings you would find ways to mention the beautiful orange tabby cat that they recently had received. In the kitchen Oscar was making dinner for the both of you, when suddenly you mentioned the orange cat again. “Enough y/n! I understand you might want a cat, but have you thought that maybe I don’t want one!?” Oscar yelled out of frustration, you stood there almost paralyzed, sure you’ve had your fair share of disagreements but he never raised his voice towards you. “Yeah, I guess I never thought about that, sorry Oscar.” you said and retired to the bedroom for the rest of the night. A sigh left Oscar, feeling regretful of yelling at you, he knew better than to come in the shared bedroom when you were both on edge.

In truth Oscar was trying to research how you guys could bring the cat along with you for the races, well along with getting the adoption papers in order, apparently he was a very popular cat having around 15 other people wanting to adopt him.

Oscar kept tip-toeing around the whole cat disagreement for the next week and just blissfully listened to explain why you were so hell bent on getting one. “Well my grandmother had an orange tabby cat when I was younger and he was my favorite thing” you said feeling emotional. He nodded along and held your hand while you explained, he decided enough was enough and he wanted to tell you the good news. “Love, I need to tell you something” he said practically bursting at the seams, you look at him to proceed with what he needed to say “I actually put in adoption papers for the orange tabby as soon as you showed him to me” he blurted out in a rush. “You’re kidding, Oscar Jack Piastri. You better not be messing with me” you said pointing a stern finger at him. “I’m being 100% serious my love, we pick him up next week” 

Next week rolls around with lightning speed, you two have been out almost all day making sure you have everything you need for your cat. Except there was one problem, you couldn’t decide on a name. “Ooh how about Oliver, hmm maybe Thomas” you said very enthusiastically. Oscar just laughed “Seriously Thomas? What is he an old man? A tank engine train?” you huffed back racking your brain for a name you could both agree on when all of a sudden Oscar had a light bulb moment. “Wait what if we named him Papaya?” You thought about it for a moment and came to agreement on the name. 

It has been the best 4 months with Papaya by your side quite literally, it was like your grandmother’s cat was reincarnated into him, he never left your side making Oscar a little jealous that the cat was getting more attention than him. “But loveee, he gets cuddles all day! What about me?” Oscar said pouting, you just chuckled and opened your arms for your clingy boyfriend. “Have I told you that you’re the best boyfriend?” you said while running your fingers through his hair while he laid on top of you. He mumbled out “Yes, at least twice a day since we got papaya” Looking up towards you, pure love behind his eyes. 

[buckyalpine]

pleaseee idk if uve done this yet but can u do a fic where bucky is so afraid to be close with u. Then one faithful day an agent starts flirting with u and bucky loses it like he doesn’t understand this feeling, he gets all hot headed and all he knows is he wants u all for himself. AND SHIT GETS ALL HOT N STEAMYYYY. this was inspired by the song close by nick jonas

I. Love. This. 

18+ Jealously, possessiveness, desperate rough sex, sweet sex, horny Bucky got out of his cage. 

First of all, he really doesn't even understand the feeling of liking someone (he doesn't like most people anyway). He's been on dates. Plenty of them actually and they were all fine. Just fine. He never cared about seeing them again, figuring it was a result of how his brain was fried over and over again.

Then you came along. He doesn't understand a damn thing that's happening to him. When you smile, his heart beats a little faster. When you laugh or talk to him, his tongue stops working and all he can do is blush. When you say his name, he swears his body heat shoots up. 

This is the first time he's felt anything like this after decades.

He swore to himself it was nothing, sure you were adorable, sweet, beautiful but that was it. You were so kind to him, your voice was soothing like honey, It didn't matter that you were gorgeous, sexy, such a doll-

What was he doing.

The intensity of what he felt scared him. He didn't want to get close to you and it wasn't like he had feelings for you, something was just going on with him. It'd go away eventually. He told himself that every single day. He continued to keep his distance from you, figuring all these feelings would disappear soon.

However.

Tonight was something else. He wasn't feeling a light pitter patter in his heart. No. It was raging and thumping. His nostrils flared each time he looked over and he didn't even know why. He had 0 reason to feel like this but it was all happening on its own. 

"Fucks wrong with you" Sam snorted, watching Bucky's jaw clench, his eyes trained on the new agent that was caressing your arm while you both sat at the bar. His ears felt hot the second the agent leaned over to whisper in your ear, Bucky saw red. Whatever he was feeling was at another level, it wasn’t a cute little blush on his cheeks, his heart wasn’t lightly racing. Seeing another man try to touch what he already wanted drove him up the wall. 

You were his. 

What-

He shook his head at the rogue thought that kept intruding his mind, but only more followed.

He wanted you. 

All to himself.

He wanted every part of you, you’re pretty sweet face, soft voice, gorgeous body. 

All to himself. 

No other thoughts occupied his brain anymore, all logic out the door, he didn’t give a fuck who was trying to get near you, that was no concern of his. His body felt hot, he couldn’t just sit and watch anymore. He stalked over to the bar, disregarding the agent that was desperately flirting with you, he was going to take you and claim you. 

“James!” You gasped, feeling the cool metal of his hand grasp your wrist, tugging you off the stool, dragging you through the crowd and up to the hall of your rooms. “James, what are you-

Before you could finish speaking, he cut you off, caging you against the wall, his hands on either side of your head. 

"I want you" His chest rumbled against yours, pressing you further against wall. You squeaked, gasping when you felt his hands trail onto your waist, his nose nudging against your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. “Now”

"If you don't tell me to stop, I won't control myself" That was the best warning he was able to muster, using all of his will power not to rub his erection on you. You nearly felt light headed, the scent of his cologne evading your senses, his body heat warming your skin. He smelled so fucking good, his beard rubbing against your skin causing shivers to run down your spine. 

“James, I-

“Tell me to stop” He growled, his hands gripping your waist tighter. “s’getting harder for me to keep my hands to myself baby” 

“Don’t stop” You whimpered, moaning when he smashed his lips onto yours, walking you back to his room without breaking your lips apart. He kicked the door closed, nipping and kissing your skin, sucking dark bruises onto your neck until the back of your legs hit the edge of his bed. 

He panted, his forehead resting on yours, trying to collect himself, his hips rutting against your core causing your dress to ride up. You couldn't hold back your moans, feeling his length press and rub onto your clit, spreading your legs further and wrapping your thighs around his waist. 

“You gonna let me have you?” He mumbled against your lips, groaning when you tugged at his shirt. His mind was all over the place, usually when it came to you, he thought of softness and sweetness. After seeing you tonight, he needed you to be covered in him, filled with him, fucking smell like him. “Baby, m’telling you, if you don’t tell me to stop, m’gonna fucking ruin you” 

“Don’t hold back James”

That was all he had to hear. 

He stripped his clothes off, throwing them aside, giving his cock a few tugs before pulling you up to take your dress off. 

“I need you naked baby, wanna see all of you” He didn’t waste any time pulling the straps down, along with your tiny panties, throwing it aside before crawling on top of you. He trailed kisses down your body, licking and nipping your skin, smirking each time you whimpered, his arms spreading your legs apart. You felt your body heat up, wanting to cover yourself up but he wasn’t having any of that. He spread them further apart, loving the way you squirmed, biting your lip while he nearly drooled at the sight of your dripping cunt. 

“S’pretty baby” He looked mesmerized, licking his lips, “So wet” 

“Jamess” You whined, your thighs flinching under his hold, wanting to close your legs so badly but he held them apart firmly, tossing them over his shoulders. 

“All shy for me pretty baby?” He groaned at your perfect scent, his cock leaking onto the sheets. His fingers spread your pussy apart, getting the perfect view of your needy clit and fluttering entrance. He licked a thick stripe through your folds, lapping your wetness before getting to his absolutely favorite part. He started off with soft kisses onto your clit, his cock growing harder with your whiny moans needing more. His lips sealed around your sensitive nub, suckling you making you cry out, grabbing his hair, back arching off the bed. He moaned around your clit, softly sucking while grinding his cock against the mattress, his hands digging into your thigs.

“You taste-” He sucked your clit again, his eyes rolling back “So sweet baby” He let his tongue move in circles, flicking and teasing it repeatedly, loving the way you gushed and soaked his beard. “Go a head, cum on my face doll” He pushed two fingers in you, pumping and curling them to stroke that spongy spot making you cry out. “Cum baby, fucking cum, soak my face doll”

“JAMESJAMESFUCK-” Your thighs closed on his head, tugging his hair making him groan, his balls throbbing as he felt your juices soak his face further. He kissed your sensitive clit before crawling on top of you, stroking his cock, rubbing it through your wetness.  

“Can’t wait any longer, need to be inside you” You brought your legs to wrap around you, your arms gripping onto his tight biceps, waiting for him to stretch you. You moaned, feeling his cock nudge against your entrance, his thick swollen tip making your stomach flutter. 

“Fuck James” You cried out as he started to fill you inch by inch, his hands fisting the sheets already, your pussy clenching around him. “Fuck me baby” Your nails dug into his shoulders making him groan. He didn’t bother with warming you up first, bringing his knees up slightly, and fucking you hard and fast without holding back, his balls slapping your ass with each stroke. 

“I want you” He grunted, pushing his cock in as deep as it would go with each thrust, desperate to be all the way inside you. “Fuck, I want you” He let his body fall onto you, legs nearly slipping against the sheets, his hips rocking and grinding against you while he gripped onto your wrist with one hand, the other grabbing onto the head board. 

“You have me baby” You cupped his cheeks, stroking his face while he groaned, fucking you harder. 

“Not enough, fuck, I want you all to myself, wanna be the only one to have you like this, only one to touch you, fuck you, make love to you” He wrapped his arms around your body, panting against your neck, his cock starting to twitch. 

“You already do Bucky” You kissed his lips, rubbing yours hands all over his body, his skin hot, “M’all yours baby, just yours” 

“Yeah?” He grunted, bringing his knee up to fuck you even deeper making you scream, his cock swelling, balls growing heavy. “You’re mine?”

“FUCK JAMES I-” You couldn’t formulate words, your legs shaking as he slammed into you, “YOUR COCK-S’DEEP” You claws onto his back, your juices squirting and dripping onto the sheets, your pussy clenching around him. 

“C’mon baby, I want your cum” He moaned, fucking you harder, desperate for you to make a mess all over his bed, “Give me your cum angel, cream on my dick, it’s your cock baby, go on, make a mess on it baby, make a mess on this cock” 

“OH GOD FUCKKK” You sobbed, feeling your orgasm rip through you, “pleasepleaseplease- “ You let out a silent scream and he continued to fuck you through your high. 

“That’s it sweetheart, look baby” Bucky cupping the back of your head, making you look at where you were both connected, his cock nearly white covered in your slick. “My cock’s all covered in your cum baby, would stroke myself with your cum if I could” 

You gave him a dazed look, a smirk flashing across his face, pulling out of you for a moment, moving up so his cock was hovering above your face. 

“See what a mess you made on me baby?” He wrapped around his soaked cock, giving himself long slow strokes, moaning at how wet and silky his length felt covered in your slick. “Feel’s so fuckin’ good baby, I’d be touching myself way more if it always felt this good” He threw his head back, letting his metal hand come down to cup his balls, moaning. You sat up slightly, pulling his cock into your mouth, catching him off guard.

“OH Shittt- He nearly came on the spot, feeling your plush lips wrap around the head of his cock, your tongue working in circles. “My hungry greedy baby” He smirked, letting you lick the tip of his cock clean before pulling you off” I wanna cum inside you baby, s’too sensitive right now” 

He pushed his cock back inside you, moaning at the way you wrapped your body around him, kissing his skin, cupping his face, your eyes glassy and hazy. 

“Can feel your cock throbbing baby” You cooed, kissing his nose, licking up his neck, “Feel’s so good Bucky, cum in me baby, let me feel you” His pace grew sloppy, clinging onto you, he’s starved his orgasm for as long as he could. 

“Oh fuck, you’re all mine, you belong to me baby, not gonna ever let you go” He grew more desperate, his cock throbbing, your tight heat fluttering and clenching around him. “I’m gonna cum” 

“Cum for me Bucky”

“M’gonna cum so fucking hard for you angel-I-SHIT-I-M FUCK M’ cumminggg” He moaned into your neck, giving you three hard thrusts, spilling his load into you. “This is all for you baby, all just for you” He couldn't help himself, nearly rolling around the bed with you, rutting his softening cock into your soaked cunt, making sure he gave you every single drop. “S’all for you sweet girl” 

You both laid down, wrapped in the sheets, sweating and panting, bodies still convulsing with post orgasmic shocks. You gasped, feeling his arm wrap around your waist pulling you over to cuddle, his fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. 

“Y/n?” You blinked, looking up to meet his soft blue eyes looking down at you, his hand cupping your cheek. “I meant what I said baby, I want you all to myself”

“You-you like me?” You whispered, your heart soaring. You’d liked Bucky for ages but you were certain he wouldn’t be interested. You were prepared for him to kick you out at the end of the night, indulging in a one night fantasy if that was all you could get. But now..

“You’re such a darling baby, how can you expect me not to fall for you” He brought you closer to kiss your lips, biting his lip nervously, wondering if you wanted that with him, “If you don’t feel the same, it’s okay I-

You cut him off, kissing his deeply, only pulling away for air. 

“You promise?”

“I promise baby doll” He nodded, cradling your body to his, the soft pitter patter returning, and cheeks blushing. “M’all yours doll” 

Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge    @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl    @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club  @eralen   @carrotfantasimp

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 5

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Warnings: MDNI, description of a panic attack, mild angst, mentions of smut

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, arguments, Caraxes, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra is trying her best out here

Words: 2.3K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

You shiver, pulling the sheets tighter around your naked form. Warmth clung to the bedsheets from Rhaenyra and Daemon, but as you blindly felt for your lovers…they were nowhere to be found. Sighing, you try to warm up and fall back asleep, but the damage was already done. “So much for sleeping in,” you mumble, wiping your eyes and yawning.

A muffled noise filters into the room, and you slip out of bed to investigate. Hushed voices are coming from the adjoining room. You can make out Daemon and Rhaenyra’s voices, but not their words. A twinge of guilt hits you as you press your ear to the door. You should probably go back to bed, they wouldn’t have left if they didn’t want privacy for their conversation. But some rational voice in the back of your mind rooted your feet to the ground–logically, their conversation had to be about you.

“We cannot keep them away forever,” Daemon hissed. “Sooner or later, they are going to realize that these ‘diplomacy missions’ are simply meant to deter them from King’s Landing.” 

Your brows furrow….who are they sending on diplomacy missions? Rhaenyra had introduced you to the entirety of her small council. They were all well accounted for in the Red Keep. “Daemon, I refuse to have them here while y/n is in this state.”

“My queen, the children have already begun sending ravens. If you wait any longer they will send dragons.” 

“She did not remember us, Daemon,” Rhaenyra’s voice raised. “You remember how you felt those first weeks? How do you think the children will react when they find out their mother does-”

“Mother?!” you throw the door open, eyes wide in shock. Both Rhaenyra and Daemon whip around to see you. 

“My lo-” 

“No,” you hiss, cutting Rhaenyra off. “Don’t ‘my love’ me. When were you going to tell me we had children?!” Your mind races. You had children? With Rhaenyra and Daemon? What if they’re both right? What if your other life is just some figment of your imagination–the result of some traumatic brain injury you sustained in a fall? 

Daemon steps towards you, hands up as if you’re some wild animal ready to bolt. “Breathe.”  

You can’t focus. Your chest is heaving with every breath. Your eyes dart around as you struggle to ground yourself. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Fuck, what if it’s not real? What if you’re not real? 

“Daemon-” 

Arms wrap around you, a hand moving to the back of your head to pull you, face-first, into Daemon’s chest. You tremble, unable to even vocalize sobs as silent tears trail down your cheeks. Rhaenyra hugs you, hands squeezing your waist in silent support. “Let it out,” Daemon murmurs. “We will stay as long as you need.” He bows his head, placing a kiss at the crown of your head.

You have no idea how long the three of you stand there. When you finally regain your composure, you lightly push them back. Neither of them speak; they both simply stare at you, waiting for you to say something. “I want to see them.”

“Absolutely not.”

“We leave at once.”

Daemon and Rhaenyra answer at the same time, heated looks exchanged. 

“My love, you’re in no state to meet them,” Rhaenyra says. “How are we to tell the children you do not remember them?”

“They will understand,” Daemon argues. “They are her flesh and blood. Seeing them might even help her remember who she is.”

“How am I supposed to ever remember them if you never allow me to meet them?” you cut the tension between them. “At least let me make new memories.” You grab Rhaenyra’s hands, pleading.

Rhaenyra sighs, kissing your hand quickly. “I cannot go with you, but it is an afternoon’s ride by dragonback to the children.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper, dropping her hands to hug her tightly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I don’t remember our family. I’m sorry I remember another life. I’m sorry I can’t be be-”

“Hush,” Nyra says, “it’s not your fault. We should be apologizing for keeping this from you. We thought if we waited, things would return…to normal.” You choke back a sob at that. Normal. 

“What if they hate me?” 

Daemon snorts before Rhaenyra can offer any encouragement. “Hardly. Lucerys threatened to melt the iron throne if he had to go another month without seeing you.” 

“My darling wife, our children could never hate you,” she assured. “Daemon and Caraxes will return you safely to me by the morrow.”

You kiss Rhaenyra deeply, running to get dressed. “What do I wear for a flight?” you call to them.

“Clothes are recommended,” Daemon teases, “but they are always optional around me.” 

“You are such an ass sometimes, my love,” you chide, rummaging through the drawers. You slide on a pair of trousers and throw a thick gown over your head. “Lace me up.”

Daemon rolls his eyes, but laces up your gown anyway. “You are going to freeze if you don’t grab a cloak.” His fingers make quick work of your laces before moving to plait your hair back.

“Then I shall steal one of Rhaenyra’s on the way out,” you shrug. “She won’t mind.” 

Daemon hums as he ties off your braid. “Say your goodbyes and steal your cloak, little thief,” he says, kissing your forehead. “I will meet you outside the dragon keep.”

You nod and begin looking for a sturdy pair of boots as Daemon leaves. “I heard you were looking for a cloak.” Rhaenyra’s voice startles you. She’s standing in the doorway, black cloak in hand. “I have one of my riding cloaks here, it will keep you warm and protect you from the elements.” She walks up, tossing it over your shoulders and pinning it to your gown. Her hands smooth down the fabric gently.

“Thank you, Nyra. Not just for the cloak,” you begin. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”

“No, y/n. Daemon is right. There is no use delaying the inevitable. It was unfair to keep it from you, even if we did it out of love.” She embraces you in a tight hug. 

“Now don’t keep our husband waiting,” Rhaenyra says as she pulls back. 

You practically run to the dragon keep. Even though Rhaenyra and Daemon had shown you through the Red Keep, you had yet to actually see a dragon. Your lovers thought it would be too soon to let you close to the dragons in your state. You could hear Caraxes before you saw him. His screeches were ear piercing, but they were nothing compared to the first glimpse you caught of him.

Instead of fear, you found yourself in awe of the great beast before you. Caraxes towers above everything, his red scales glittering in the light. His wings flap in restlessness, head twisting and turning as if he was looking for something. You watch as his nostrils flare, he had caught wind of you. Caraxes head whips towards you and the second he sees you, he lumbers over. You freeze as his massive head swings into your side, pushing you under his wing. Caraxes releases a cat-like purr that rumbles through you as he nuzzles into you. 

You instinctively reach out to pet his head, gently scratching at his scales. “Aren’t you just a handsome boy?” you giggle. This was the fearsome dragon of war Daemon goes on about? “Such a pretty boy, how could anyone be afraid of you?” you coo at the dragon as you scratch under his chin. Caraxes is trilling and purring, preening under your attention.

“I leave you alone for a moment, and you are already trying to steal my dragon?” Daemon teases as he walks around Caraxes to greet you. 

“It’s not my fault,” you laugh. “This precious baby boy just wanted some attention.”

“He was growing restless after not seeing you in months,” Daemon says. “It will be hard to get him from your side now.” Daemon pats at Caraxes’ neck in greeting, as he pulls you away to mount the dragon. Caraxes lowers to the ground as far as he can, making your ascent easier. Daemon helps you up, climbing up after you and securing you both in the saddle. 

Daemon slides an arm around your waist and whistles for Caraxes to take off. Your breath catches in your chest at the weightless feeling. Caraxes climbs up into the skies with just a few strong beats of his wings. The wind tears through your hair, and you’re thankful that Daemon took the time to braid your hair and make sure you had a cloak. You let go of the saddle, stretching your arms out and leaning back into your husband. A giggle escapes as you move your fingers in time with the air currents. 

“I don’t know how you could ever want to come down,” you yell over the wind.

“It’s hard,” Daemon leans down into your ear. “But when my beautiful wives are waiting on the ground below, nothing could truly keep me away. Not even this.” He kisses your neck, nuzzling into the skin that peeks out of your cloak. His arm around your waist tightens as his other hand slides up your thigh, shifting your skirts up. 

You groan as his hand cups your core, the heel of his palm grinding into your clit. “It is a shame that you have no memories of your first flight,” he purrs. “You were terrified of heights, and demanded I distract you.” Your hips twitch involuntarily into his grip, and you gasp softly.

“There’s no way in hell we are doing anything up here,” you whine. “It’s a long way down.” 

Daemon hums into your ear as he continues to caress you through the trousers. “You truly think Caraxes or I would let you fall?”

“Caraxes?!” you bat Daemon’s hand away. You had forgotten the dragon underneath you for a second. “What the fuck Daemon, he’s going to know what’s going on!”

Daemon goes silent in a moment, shocked, before he laughs. You twist back to see him wiping a tear from his eyes. “My love, you never fail to surprise me.” 

You slap his chest lightly, “don’t tease me, Daemon!”

He simply shakes his head, hand retreating as he smooths your skirts back down to cover your trousers. “Forgive me, dear wife. I only wished to distract you from your worries.”

His words sombered the playful mood as you remembered what waited for you at the end of this flight–your children. “Tell me about them.”

“Well, we have several. There’s Baela, Rhaena, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey, Aegon and Viserys.” 

“Dear gods, please tell me Rhaenyra took a turn birthing this mob of children.” You wince. How did you manage to have so many children in your five year marriage.

As if sensing your question, Daemon clarifies. “Baela and Rhaena are both daughters from my previous marriage. Their mother, Laena, died giving birth to our third child.”

“Will they be there as well?”

“No. They are both staying at Driftmark with their grandsire for the summer. Aegon and Viserys are both in the nursery at the Red Keep.”

You gasp, “how did I never find out about them?”

“The staff were counseled to keep their silence if they wanted to keep their heads,” Daemon says causally.

“I am rather confused,” you admit. “We’ve only been married for five years, how did we manage five children in that time?”

“Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey are all children from Rhaenyra’s first marriage. Aegon and Viserys are the only children who survived in our short five years.”

“Survived? What do you mean?”

Daemon sighed, squeezing you tightly before he began. “You….struggled to become pregnant. When you did, it was a hard pregnancy. Rhaenyra and I were terrified of losing you. You barely survived the birth, but-” His voice cuts off. You place your hand over his, waiting for him to find his words again. “Visenya was stillborn.”

You stare off into the skies. It was surreal. You, or at least another version of yourself, had been through so much. The rest of the flight passed with Daemon telling you stories of the children. Moments like these were hard, but precious. Daemon rarely let his guard down to show any vulnerability, but when he did you found yourself drawn even closer to him.

Daemon yelled a command, urging Caraxes to land. The dragon soared through the clouds, gliding down. You peak over the side to catch a glimpse below. The only things you can make out are two dragons laying in a clearing. 

Caraxes lands surprisingly light, but you still jolt forward at the sudden stop. Daemon braces you as he untangles the saddle ties from you. Caraxes lowers, stretching a wing out for you to climb down. You slide down, thanking him with a pat. 

“Mom!” Before you can turn to look for your sons, a figure jumps into your arms. You instinctively catch them. “I missed you.”

“Joffrey, give your mother some space.” Daemon chides.

The figure, Joffrey, wriggles deeper into your arms. You pick him up, setting him on your hip. He was certainly too old for a nursery, but not too old to be carried. You look up to see Jacaerys and Lucerys standing a few feet away. 

“I trust your journey was well?” The tallest brother–Jacaerys–asks. You silently thank Daemon for giving you a crash course on the flight over. There was some tension, as if they both assumed they were in trouble.

“No need for formalities, I’m just happy to see my boys.” Jacaerys and Lucerys sigh in relief before running up to hug you. “We have so much to talk about.”

NOTE: Thank you so much for all the love on this series!! I work a full time job and spend my evenings writing-so all your support makes it so worth it! As you have noticed, this chapter is smut free (alas). Trust me, there are PLENTYYYYYY of scenes ahead (bc I'm down bad for these two). In the meantime, I hope you all enjoyed a little Caraxes content! ~ Lacie <3

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[lovelyunholyc]

you'd let it slip that one time, when he called you at the time of day he usually does to check in, you'd let it go to voicemail just to be able to save it and conjure up his voice whenever you pleased while he was away.

"i don't have any voicemails of you," nanami had said with a troubled look on his face, and you'd found it so charming that you had to lean in and kiss him.

you'd shrugged, giving him a small, grateful smile. "you always answer when i call, kento."

you know him well enough to understand his logic; he'd never miss any of your calls, even when he's working (you were the only person allowed to contact him past his phone's 'Do Not Disturb' feature) - he couldn't ever risk missing it when you needed him, and you wouldn't think to disturb him for trivial things either.

of course your answer doesn't satisfy him, and you can almost see the cogs turning in his brain. you can't help but laugh a little, kissing his frown away and changing the subject to save him from the stress.

the next day, at that time he usually calls during his break, he receives an ominous text from you.

don't call. and don't answer, i'm leaving you a present.

he worries immediately, but another text pops up once you see he's read it.

don't worry! you'll ruin the surprise! i love you ❤️

nanami tries his best, but he can't help it. instances of something going terribly wrong concerning you and him not being able to reach you in time flood his brain and nearly make him lightheaded. he does as you ask and doesn't answer when your contact pops up on the screen, his self-control waning quickly the longer he sees your photo.

he doesn't know how long he stares at the screen, even when his phone stops ringing.

and then, just a minute later, a notification for a new voicemail pops up, and the tornado of worries in his brain grinds to a halt when everything suddenly clicks, and he's reminded of the short, perplexing conversation you'd had the day prior.

and he feels a little silly.

you pick up on the first ring, as if you were expecting his call.

"my love," you greet, and even though the audio on his phone doesn't do your sweet voice justice, it soothes his heart all the same. "you're not gonna listen to it?" he can tell you're smiling, playful and lovely.

"i'll save it for my way home from work."

"hmm, how do you know it wasn't something naughty, then? what if you start blushing on the train, and everyone notices?"

"darling-" he starts, but uncharacteristically doesn't have a follow-up. he knows no one on his commute cares enough about anything else at that time other than coming home as soon as possible, much like himself, but he lets you have that, if it'll make you giggle like you are now. your laugh is deeply precious to him.

"i can just imagine it - but i wouldn't wanna ever miss seeing you blush." oh, he knows, and has suffered your inappropriate whispers in public just to get a reaction out of him nearly enough to get used to it. nearly. "are you blushing now?"

"no," nanami lies easily, heat crawling up his neck in that oddly pleasant way only you can seem to bring out of him.

you laugh just as easily, see through him just like that, as if he's right in front of you.

"i'm glad you didn't listen to me and still called," you say softly, traces of your sweet laughter still lingering in your tone. "i wanted to hear your voice, too."

nanami hums, doesn't tell you that that makes him smile way too wide for him having lunch alone. he tries to tone it down in case gojo somehow happens to stumble upon his carefully chosen, secluded spot.

"i miss you," you sigh, as if you hadn't seen him this morning and kissed him until he was almost late, like you usually do.

"i miss you, too, darling," he replies just as sincerely, as if he wasn't seeing you in just a few short hours and wasn't planning on holding you until you begged him to let you go so you could get dinner together, like he usually does.

"enjoy your break, handsome." the corner of his lip always twitches up when you call him that. "come home safe."

"of course. i love you."

"love you more!"

nanami knows that if he argues that, like he really wants to every time, you'd be too stubborn to let him win. so he just chuckles and lets you hang up.

despite what you'd teased him about, he does listen to your message on the train. and he does start smiling like a madman, his entire face glowing, lighting up with it, but he can't find it in himself to be embarrassed about it when he's hearing your voice and he's only a few short minutes away from having you in his arms again.

"hi, handsome. i had to think carefully about how to get you to not answer your phone, but it didn't end up being that creative, huh?" you breathe a soft laugh, the gentle cadence of it carrying into your sweet voice. "anyway, here's your obligatory voicemail from me. i'm just kidding - i thought about it, and you looked so sad about it that i just had to make one. you know i'd do anything to make you happy, right? it's only fair, with how happy you make me, too... i hope this will suffice, i didn't really have anything special to say except that i think about you so much it's becoming quite concerning, and i love you so much i feel like i'm going crazy, slowly but surely. look what you do to me!... um, oh- i'm gonna run out of time soon! i can't wait to leave you a million more of these, it's almost as fun as listening to yours... actually, i'll tell you a little secret: i listen to yours every day when i'm missing you most, which is usually right after you leave for work. sometimes i wish you'd come right back even though it's a little ridiculous. um, anyway, i'll think of a more creative way to trick you next time. come back safely, i miss you terribly... i love you more than you know, kento."

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

"...We're two sides of the same coin, aren't we?"

The whispered confession falls clumsily out of Pure Vanilla's mouth, almost dragged out, bitterly sweet and strange on his tongue. The words are addressed to his own stained candy glass visage, spilling tendrils of bright blue light across the Solarium of Unity despite the almost suffocating darkness invading the rest of the space.

He knows this isn't really the Solarium of Unity, and he knows he isn't just speaking to a window. The lurking shadows, thick like molasses and blinking every once in a while, give that away. Even if it didn't, there is a haziness here that exists only in dreams, and a lack of the deep tiredness that has been plaguing him as of late.

"Oh, are you finally ready to admit that?" Sure enough, Shadow Milk Cookie's voice comes from all sides, far too cheerful. The candy glass melts and warps before him, the blues darkening until Shadow Milk stands in his place, far more detailed than the artisan silhouette he replaced. His grin is mocking as he looks down at Pure Vanilla, who cannot help but feel uncomfortable at the sight of their appearances blurring together like that, even though he had been expecting something along those lines. "Too bad though – you can't admit something that's wrong!"

"Huh?" It catches Pure Vanilla by surprise. It had been difficult emotionally, but logically straightforward to admit they were two sides of the same coin. He couldn't imagine how that could be wrong, and acting upon an old habit from his student days, he finds himself frantically unravelling that conclusion in his head again to figure out the issue.

Shadow Milk doesn't give him the chance, tutting as he shakes his head in mock disappointment. "You must have a brain in there, can't you use it?" He laments theatrically, contorting himself into an odd shape against the edge of the window pane. Then, again barreling on before Pure Vanilla can reply, "Look, think of it like this. To say we're two sides of the same coin means that we have similarities, even if we are otherwise opposites. That is true to an extent, but it makes our differences sound way more clear cut than they actually are. It may be easier for you to believe, but we aren't really opposites. That would imply I am not whole, and I can assure you, Soul Jam aside, I am just as I always was!"

Ah, so it's a matter of wording. Pure Vanilla isn't sure why he is entertaining this - no, it's because he doesn't want to give Shadow Milk the satisfaction of turning away from the truth. Even now, Shadow Milk's eyes squint cheekily at him, daring him to try and end the conversation.

"Then... we are made of the same components in a different composition." Pure Vanilla tries, a little frustrated with his own hesitance, but it is difficult to tell how Shadow Milk wants him to answer when he isn't making it blatantly obvious.

"So close!" Shadow Milk sighs dramatically as he snaps his head to the side so sharply it makes Pure Vanilla wince, imagining the cracks that would cause on any other Cookie. "But you're relying on technicalities. It's much simpler than that."

It dawns on Pure Vanilla, then, exactly what Shadow Milk is aiming for, the realisation making his insides crawl. He doesn't have to say it, not really, but he isn't sure what Shadow Milk will do if he doesn't, and he unfortunately doesn't have the ability to wake himself up on command.

So he takes a deep breath, fidgeting with his staff as he says, even less than a whisper yet twice as loud. "We're... We're the same. Is that what you wanted me to say?"

"Ding-ding-ding!" Shadow Milk trills, suddenly reaching through the candy glass to grip the window frame and lurching forward across the threshold, leaving a mess of shattered glass behind his head like a halo. It startles Pure Vanilla, who instinctively shifts his foot back, only to be instantly locked in place as the reaching shadows soldify around his legs, its eyes winking up at him playfully. His grip on his staff tightens, willing it to shed its light, the beginnings of panic stirring within him at the restraint. The staff does, but the shadows seem to eat the light without a problem.

Pure Vanilla is so distracted by the shadows that he doesn't notice Shadow Milk's hands until they grab his face. His heart jumps in alarm, and his eyes dart up to find half of Shadow Milk leaning down out of the window, far too close. He is grinning at him, wide and self-satisfied, and his hands are cold and harsh. "See, I knew you had a working brain! Yes, the right answer is that we are one and the same."

He pinches and pulls at his cheeks, and Pure Vanilla tries to cringe away, tries to manuver his staff between them. It doesn't work, if only because hands emerge from the darkness to anchor his staff too.

"But that isn't true." Pure Vanilla mumbles when he isn't able to wiggle his way out and Shadow Milk still shows no signs of stopping, hoping the argument will make him lose interest in his face. "I admit that there are similarities between us, but we aren't really the same."

Shadow Milk pauses, his grip tightening until it borders on pain, and for a moment, Pure Vanilla thinks he may have miscalculated.

But then Shadow Milk snickers to himself, releasing his face entirely and pulling back, his hands resting lightly over Pure Vanilla's shoulders. The brush of weight keeps Pure Vanilla from relaxing, but it is a bit of added distance, at least.

"Aren't we? Well, you are the biggest liar, so I should have expected you would lie to yourself too." Shadow Milk hums, almost sounding delighted at this turn in conversation. It unnerves Pure Vanilla, because he had assumed his disagreement would annoy him.

Instead, Shadow Milk smirks, his many eyes glinting gleefully at him. "Listen carefully, Vani, because here's the truth." He says, his voice dipping into a wicked purr that seems to shudder through Pure Vanilla's whole body. "All the things you hate that I have done, you have the capability of doing too. After all, you've already used people for your own gain, haven't you?" Shadow Milk leans closer with a condescending lilt to his words, shifting his hands so he can wrap his arms loosely over his shoulders, and Pure Vanilla freezes under the touch. "Oh, I know you think it was necessary, but you still sent those naive, tiny Cookies off to carry out your errands for you, regardless of the dangers. That's only a few steps behind what I've done, you know, making people dance to my tune. The only difference between us is severity and time."

The words sink heavily to Pure Vanilla's stomach, not quite true but not quite not true, and he feels a little lightheaded, fingers twitching against his staff. Maybe it's because of that, or maybe it's because of his discomfort from the close proximity, but he finds himself distracted by the way Shadow Milk is talking. He carries his usual air of showmanship, but it is nowhere near as exaggerated as during his brief takeover of the Faerie Kingdom. With his insistence of specificity, his mention of technicalities, his structured method of explaining things, he almost sounds like a–

"We are the same," Shadow Milk repeats, tilting his head to the side, the glow of his eyes burning holes through Pure Vanilla, "and one day, you'll end up just like me."

A scholar.

That makes sense – at some point, his virtue had been Knowledge, and nobody seeks it out as fervently as a scholar – but it still feels like a surprise. Pure Vanilla had always known that Shadow Milk was different, once, but only in the sense that the fact existed in the back of his mind.

"No rebuttal, hmm? Are you ready to accept that?" Shadow Milk asks smugly, slightly impatient with Pure Vanilla's lack of response, but mostly watching him expectantly, as if waiting for a bomb to go off.

Pure Vanilla has never thought about what Shadow Milk might have been like, before he became like this. There was no reason to even consider it. But now, he can't help but wonder, because while he cannot imagine this chaotic, brutal Beast, this great unknown evil, as anything else – Shadow Milk still carries echoes from a past life that he doesn't seem to notice enough to hide with his lies.

"...If we are the same," Pure Vanilla finally scrapes his thoughts together enough to reply, carefully, "then doesn't that make the opposite possible too? That, one day, you will become like me and return to the light?"

Shadow Milk blinks once, his face falling blank. He blinks again, all of his eyes in quick succession.

And then he throws his head back and laughs, the movement jostling Pure Vanilla in the process with his arms still firmly around his shoulders. It sounds unhinged, ricocheting across the room, but it is openly amused. It makes Pure Vanilla antsy, especially with how it rings in his ears like an explosion from their closeness.

He wonders if Shadow Milk's laugh was different, before everything. It must have been. He wonders what it sounded like, and immediately realises that he's being ridiculous. The realisation that a before exists seems to have opened the floodgates in his mind, and now thoughts of hypotheticals can't help flitting in.

"You say such silly, silly things." Shadow Milk bites out offhandedly as his laughter winds down, the lingering remnants still dancing on his tongue. Without warning, he pulls Pure Vanilla even closer, the darkness that had been keeping him in place swirling and shoving him forward. Pure Vanilla gasps, the sound catching in his throat, and one of his hands fly off his staff to reach for something to steady himself on. It finds an edge of shattered candy glass, flinching back and falling down to scrabble against its smooth, intact surface.

Shadow Milk is giggling at him and Pure Vanilla is mortified, horribly so. They are far, far too close, Shadow Milk's face taking up the near entirety of his vision and their upper bodies almost pressed together. It feels claustrophobic, which should be impossible in such a wide, open space.

Shadow Milk makes matters worse by pressing their foreheads together, the gesture weirdly tender and doing nothing to make Pure Vanilla any calmer. His bright blue eyes look directly through him, dissecting him piece by piece.

"Why don't you cut down the Silver Tree and find out?" Shadow Milk coos, his voice overlapping with the Light of Truth's in a deeply unsettling way. His presence is overwhelming.

Pure Vanilla's eyes flicker downwards to escape his piercing gaze, and finds their chests so close that their Soul Jams are overlapping. Overlapping, and not touching, because Shadow Milk's Soul Jam seems to fizzle out of existence where the other makes contact with it, as if it were an illusion. Behind it is an empty space, black as the abyss. With the way they are lined up now, it is obvious that Pure Vanilla's Soul Jam would fit perfectly into the crevice with a little turning. He knew that already, but it still feels strange to see it.

Pure Vanilla sighs, a long, thin, shuddering sound. "...You didn't truly believe that would work, did you?"

In the edge of his vision, Shadow Milk smiles tauntingly, all teeth, but he doesn't say a word.

And Pure Vanilla wakes up, off kilter, exhausted and oddly cold.

[next]

[adventuringblind]

Band-Aids are for Speed

Lando Norris x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Street Racer AU

Summary: The five times she patched Lando up, and the one time he patched up her.

Warnings: Injury descriptions, broken bones, cuts, bruises, blood, illigal street racing, car accidents

Notes: Author is not a doctor but has watched medical dramas... don't judge my knowledge!

Side Note: I hope le requester enjoys this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

The first time she met Lando, he was siting in the emergency room waiting to be stitched up. She quietly hums to herself while setting up as the other nurse changes places with her.

The deep gash on his arm makes her wonder what he did to get it, but she also knows better then to ask. He doesn't look like he's in the mood to talk anyway.

It takes approximately three minutes for her to retract that statement. "So, you come here often?"

The question takes her so of guard that she doesn't know what to do with it aside from take the next few seconds to process. Is it not obvious that she works here?

"Do you mean the hospital? Or in this room specifically?" She laughs lightly at the ridiculousness of her patient and blames the minor blood loss.

"Nah, I mean in my presence." He smirks.

She tries to focus on her work. "Can't say I have."

"Would you like to be in it more?"

He gives her his number before he leaves. He dots the 'i' in his name with a heart.

She texts him the second she gets him to ask if he's bless her with his presence again.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

In the few months they've been seeing each other she's learned that Lando is obsessed with cars. It's cute when he jumps into excited rants about his favorite subject.

With the amount they've been talking, it's not shocking that Lando texts her in the evening. She assumes it'll be another silly joke. Instead she's met with frenzied sentences and misspelled words about need medical attention.

She doesn't hesitate to drive to his place. In hindsight, she really should've asked him why he didn't go to A&E when he's bleeding all over the bathroom floor.

"Please tell me you didn't get jumped." She kneels down and sets about getting him a position where she can see what she's doing.

He groans in pain as she moves him. "Nope! It was spectacular though."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I crashed the car but still won." He lets out a triumphant hoot.

This man can never give her all the details at one. "You got in a car accident?! How is that winning?!"

"Because I won the money... duh." He's definitely delirious now. Probably has a concussion. "Oh, I didn't tell you? I street race."

There's that strange part of her that is intrigued and curious to know more, specifically because that adds to his sex appeal (like he wasn't hot enough already). The logical side of her brain that is currently staring at Lando bleeding says otherwise. "Uh, no... you didn't."

"Well isn't that unfortunate! You coulda seen me crash today if you had."

Lando is half asleep by the time she is done. She's barely able to wrangle him into bed with how uncoordinated he is. It's useless keeping him awake.

She turns the lights off and is about to leave - "Will you stay?"

"I can, yeah, do you want me on the couch or is there another bedroom?"

"In bed with me. You can stay here - with me."

Against her better judgment, she does.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

She doesn't usually work the weekend shift but one of the nurses is on vacation and she could us the extra hours. She leaves her phone on vibrate in her pocket in case of a 'family emergency.'

Said emergency being Lando who is more accident prone on the weekends. Somehow, less accident prone in the car and more when he's doing normal people tasks.

Sometimes she wonders if her gets hurt on purpose just so he has an excuse to see her. She keeps telling him he doesn't need one - just in case - but he still calls and she goes. It's not like she has much else to do with her time aside.

She really shouldn't be shocked when he ends up in emergency clutching his arm. He gives her a bashful smile and tries to awkwardly wave. "Hi."

"And what, my love, are you in for this time?"

"I slipped on the stairs..."

Another male, a tall brunette who she knows as George, hits him playfully on the head. "No he did not! This idiot decided it would be a brilliant idea to tie a skateboard to the back of Alex's car and sit on it while Alex drove."

She throws a stern look at Lando and his smile goes from bashful to downright embarrassed. "You're lucky it's just you're arm."

By the time he's set free into the world to make more impulsive decisions, she makes the executive decision to make him wait until she's done working. He puts a pout on his lips, but it goes away when she sends him to the cafeteria.

They drive home listening to the indie station. The one he's made her fall in love with.

"Thank you, again."

"You've got to stop thanking me, Lan. It is literally my job." She laughs a little at herself for that one.

"Yeah, but, that's not all. You're the only person who doesn't freak out on me for doing stupid shit. Like I know I shouldn't do it but it gives me that adrenaline that racing does." The sincerity in his voice nearly takes her off guard.

"I can't tell what to do, but I'll always be there when you need a patch job."

"And I'll be there when you need a ride." He winks.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

The first time she's at one of Lando's races, she can feel the thrumming in her heart. The excitement of the start and the fear that he could possibly die doing this.

He jogs over to her right before the start. His hands clumsily find her waist and he smash his lips on hers. "For good luck." He whispers as he pulls away.

She doesn't let go, however. She pulls a band aide out of her pocket and sticks it to his hand. It's a crayon, but she highly doubts he'll care to much.

"What's this for?"

"I had a little girl today who told me that Band-Aids give you speed. I thought you might try it."

"When I win, it'll be all because of you."

Lando does win. She buys more Band-Aids with some of the prize money.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

She's there when the crash happens. The boys had deemed her the official medical personnel. Which she's glad for, since they are the ones getting her to the crash site. In record time - it has to be - she's sure she's never gone this fast before.

She dives out of the back of the truck to the driver side door. Lando sits there, a few visible cuts, but he's smiling at her. She has half a mind to give the boy an earful, but refrains since he did just crash.

It takes her, Alex, and George to get him out of the car and into the truck. She stitches him up before they go home. In her car, mind you, since the one Lando drove is out of order.

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be - just - please remember that I can't fix every kind of injury."

They curl up in bed together. The long night having drained them both of their energy.

"Maybe, but at least my odds of surviving until my thirties have gone up with you around."

"At this rate, you're more likely to die doing dishes then driving."

"That was one time!"

♡♡♡♡♡♡

It wasn't supposed to be this way. She was supposed to go home, not end up back at her job.

Granted, she's here for a different reason now. One that's not her fault and she's pissed about it. She's going to explode with emotions. Her body hurts so much.

Fucking drunk drivers. Who gave them the right to say it's her fault? Telling her she's lucky it wasn't worse.

A soft knock at the door draws her attention. Lando stands there look mildly disheveled. Still, he has his hands on his hips and rolls his eyes. "Whatever am I going to do with you, my love? Always getting into accidents!"

He comes to lay beside her on the bed and she wiggles to make accommodate him. He pulls out a box of bandages from his pocket and proceeds to put them everywhere she has a new mark.

The stress of it all finally breaks through. She sobs into his shoulder and clings to his sweatshirt. "Thank you."

"Hey, none of that. I owe you for all the Band-Aids you've used on me and all those times you've patched me up."

"Does this mean I can drive your car now? Since I have extra speed?"

Lando raises his eyebrows. "Maybe not drive, but I can think of other things we can do with speed." He wiggles said eyebrows suggestively.

"How about, a speedy recovery? You have plenty of those."

"Alright fine, a speedy recovery - and I'll be here for all of it with a plethora of crayon Band-Aids because I bought them all just for you."

[marlynnofmany]

Paws in a Circle

There’s a poster I saw once, back on Earth, that had a silhouette of a bear with deer antlers, and it was labeled “Beer.” I had forgotten about it completely until I met our newest client, who by that logic was definitely a beer.

I’d already done my part of the interaction by carrying out one of the heavier boxes, so while the captain went over the delivery fees with her, I was free to stare politely and decide which other Earth animals she resembled. (Fur coloring more like a red fox, and semi-upright posture that was less bear and more extinct giant ground sloth.)

I was so focused on watching the client handle the datapad with her giant paws that I completely missed it when the hovercar behind her sprung a fuel leak.

Paint saw it, though. “Oh! Your car!” she yelped, pointing. “I’ll get Mimi!” She was off in a flash of orange scales, back into the ship in search of our mechanic.

The client growled a swear word that didn’t translate, shoved the datapad back at Captain Sunlight, then galloped over to her car. While I expected her to throw open the hood in search of the part that was leaking, she instead made a beeline for the back seat.

When she threw open that door, I saw why.

“Kids! Out of the car! It’s not safe!”

A half dozen bundles of spotted yellow fur tumbled out, making distressed noises that didn’t need translating. They had tiny little antler buds and very big eyes.

Captain Sunlight was busy talking to someone through her communicator, probably Mimi. I stood there uselessly by the packages. What did I know about fuel leaks? Nothing helpful. I knew the puddle was growing by the second, and was probably flammable, but that was about it. And this backwater spaceport barely had an information booth, much less a local response team.

The client ushered her cubs over to where we stood just as Mimi and Paint returned. Blip and Blop followed with a big toolbox carried between them. Mimi was already taking charge and waving tentacles about, talking to the captain about the lack of reliable repair shops this far in the boonies, telling Blip and Blop how best to use their muscles in opening up the engine, and reassuring the customer that this was fine, actually, that model hovercar had a known issue with the fuel lines.

When the client dithered over minding her cubs and being present for the repairs, Captain Sunlight pointed a scaly yellow hand at me. “Our human can keep your little ones entertained. Bring them over here.”

“Uh,” I said.

Captain Sunlight looked up at me, still talking to the client. “She has extensive experience in tending to small furry creatures.”

I wanted to say that veterinarian training and childcare were two very different things, but I wasn’t about to make the captain look bad. And knowing Mimi, this would be quick.

The client said, “Thank you. Kids, you need to stay over here, okay? Next to these boxes, but don’t touch. Listen to the tall one. I’ll be right there helping fix the car.”

The tiny-voiced replies were recognizable words in the most common trade language, though their pronunciation made me clock them at around three or four years old in human years. They were very cute.

And they were suddenly my responsibility, all looking up at me like spotted teddy bears while the rest of the adults fretted about the car.

The questions were immediate.

“What are you?”

“Where’s your fur?”

“Did you lose it because you ate the wrong thing? Mommy says we have to eat our vi’mins so our fur doesn’t fall out.”

“Is this instead of fur?”

I freed the tiny paws tugging at my pants. “I’m not supposed to have fur. I’m a human. And yes, I wear clothes to keep me warm instead.”

“It looks funny.”

“Do you have to brush it?”

“Do you know any games?”

I brightened at that. “Games! Sure, I know some games.” I wracked my brain for something that would keep them entertained without causing new problems. “What kind of games do you like to play?”

They all answered at once in an avalanche of words, bouncing around in excitement, with a couple grabbing each other’s fur to keep from falling over. I couldn’t make out a thing they were saying. But I had the beginning of an idea.

“Do you like dancing in a circle?” I asked.

They had no idea what I was talking about, and possibly no understanding of basic shapes yet. Three of them spun in place while the others waved their arms.

“First you stand in a circle, like this,” I said, sketching out the shape in midair. “Here. You stand here, then you there…” With some gentle nudging — they were so soft — I soon had them arranged in something like a circle. “Now hold hands with the person next to you.”

I was a little concerned that their paws weren’t suited to this, since they had long blunt claws already and didn’t look very dexterous, but they managed. With lots of giggling and hopping in place.

“Now everybody step to the side, in this direction.” I ushered them into a clockwise rotation, nice and slow (and giggling), with no risk of any little fluffy heads bonking onto the spaceship landing pad. It took them a second, then they got the rhythm without tripping over their own feet.

Then they unanimously spun faster, hopping and laughing with squeals and barks that were probably making more than one adult turn to stare. I don’t know; I kept my eyes on the littles. My arms were out and ready in case somebody stumbled and brought the whole circle crashing down.

But no one did. The half dozen youngsters wheeled and spun, bouncing with glee and showing no sign of stopping.

“That’s new,” rumbled a voice behind me. I tried not to flinch when I looked up at the mama bear. Beer. Whatever. She asked, “Is that an activity from your planet?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Pretty basic, and it seemed good for kids.”

The antlered head nodded. “Looks like valuable practice at coordination, as well as teamwork. There are a few adults I know who could benefit from that.”

Images flashed through my head of huge antlered bear aliens doing ring-around-the-rosie as a corporate teambuilding exercise. And professional athletes trying to improve their footwork. “Yeah, they probably could. And it’s a fun bit of community bonding time.”

Mama Bear nodded. “Okay children, the car is fixed,” she announced. “Time to go home.”

The cubs made the exact same disappointed noises as human kids. Even when their mother waded in and picked them up one by one to urge them towards the car, they didn’t want to stop playing. They grabbed hands in pairs and spun off that way, even faster than before. I did have to catch one fuzzy little teddy toddler, who just laughed about it and hopped around some more.

Peripheral vision told me the rest of the crew was helping move the packages into the hovercar’s storage space and mop up the last of the fuel. Overheard conversation told me that the good captain had tactfully gotten us a bonus payment for the mechanical assistance. I couldn’t tell if childcare was part of that, and I didn’t ask. I just focused on herding the excitable youngsters back to their car, where thankfully they all knew how to get into the safety harnesses without help.

Mama Bear closed the door. “Thank you for everything,” she said, directing that at me as well as Captain Sunlight. “I will recommend your services highly to anyone who asks. And we will probably need more deliveries soon, once we get the new house set up, so perhaps we will see you again!”

Captain Sunlight nodded. “Perhaps so. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

I waved goodbye to the kids, who had found the button to open the window and were just as excitable as ever. “See you later! Maybe next time I can teach you the Hokey Pokey. That’s big on my planet.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[bethereasonyousucceed444]

HELLO MY DARLINGS

PLEASE READ

So I have heard that even I manifested for everyone

It may not work for everyone

Because you still have to persist yourself

Kinda like this

You could manifest for a job but you still have to work

Someone told me this

And then said that those who promised to manifest in the void for others said that they tried but couldn’t do it for everyone

So their followers called them liars

Please don’t do that

We are the Gods of our OWN reality

Do it yourself

I’m here to guide you

So

Here’s a step by step guide that actually helped someone get super close and helped me get in!!!

First

What is the void state?

The void state is the deepest type of meditation

It is the state of pure consciousness where your body is asleep but the righty side of your brain is awake

Why we need to keep the right side of our brain awake?

Because the right side of our brain is more “creative”

We have two sides of our brain

They’re called “Hemispheres”

Left hemisphere(left side of brain)

Is for your every day activities you use more of during certain classes at school

This sides more logical

Meaning it knows things like

“1+1=2” “You eat cereal with a spoon spaghetti with a fork”

When you stay still for 15-20 minutes not only is your body asleep but your left hemisphere is also asleep

How to enter the void state

To enter the void state one must simply

Be

In the void state anything is possible

You can revise death, heal someone from something, gain magical powers

Become famous be a billionaire marry your celebrity crush wake up next to your SP

Be the coolest person in the world

Have pink hair etc

Nothing is impossible

If you lost someone you could literally manifest in the void they’re still alive and healthy

Here are the steps to entering the void:

1. Get comfortable I don’t care if you lay down or sit up just be in a position where you feel comfy

2. Put on an instrumental to your favorite song if it’s relaxing enough it can even be a rap song

Just no lyrics

Make sure it’s upbeat enough to make you happy and keep you awake

Or a slow pop instrumental I don’t care if it’s Billie Eilish etc

Any song instrumental that gets you in your mood

3. Whilst listening to your instrumental, I want you to start daydreaming

Visualize your dream life

Picture that everything is perfect the way you want it

The 3D can be altered that’s why it’s an illusion

In this very moment that you’re lying down the only thing that’s important is your mind

Allow your thoughts to pass they don’t even matter

Shift those thoughts into your daydream

Fantasize about your dream life

Feel happy feel good

4. While daydreaming about your desires

I want you to picture your desired self as vividly as you can picture them staring into your eyes

Breathing with you

The breathing method I want you to try during this is

The “444” method

Breathe in on 4

Like this

As you’re breathing in through your nose count to 4 in your head or out loud

Then hold it

Release on the count of 8

So hold it then release on 8

Do I this until you feel super relaxed

Now imagine your desired self

Counting to a hundred with you

With each breath in you both count together

What you’re doing here is you are becoming in sync with your desired self

As she/he/they( your desired self) stares into your eyes

Let them count with you picture them just staring at you with a comfy smile and counting with you

Until you reach maybe 100 or 200 whatever you choose

5. After counting

Still imagine your desired self

Imagine they’re telling “you always wake up in the void”

Repeat after them start saying

“I always wake up in the void “

Create affirmations for them to say

And just repeat after them but using first place like they’ll say “You are pure consciousness” so you say “I am pure consciousness”

Become in synch with your desired self as if your souls are one because truthfully this desired version of you is already you

You’re just forming a deeper connection with them in this very moment

6. Start saying together “I am in the void”

7. that’s it

If you’re not in by now

I need you to focus on talking to your desired self today become in synchronized with them

This will help you feel a stronger connection with your desires instead of putting them on a pedestal

Subliminals to use

For Alpha waves

What is Alpha waves?

Alpha waves are a mindfulness meditation exercise that helps relief stress and many other things

The alpha state of mind is a relaxed state of consciousness while awake when the brain produces alpha waves instead of beta waves. Alpha waves can help reduce stress increase productivity, and boost creativity. Some techniques that may help you enter the alpha state include:

(Credit to google haha)

Examples of when you’re in the Alpha wave state

1. When you sit down to watch tv for awhile

2.While studying

3.Maybe reading a book

These are examples of things we do that trigger the alpha state

To get into the alpha wave

Listen to the subliminal above with the waves included

During this subliminal

Focus on deep breathing

Calm your mind

Slow down your heart rate

The frequency of alpha should be at 8 to 13 HZ

The video I mentioned above is at a frequency of 11 HZ

ISOCHRONIC TONES

Isochronic tones are tones that basically forces your brain waves to move in synch with the frequency you’re listening to

Isochronic tones is what I like to call “Synchronized tones “

You can use binaural beats but these and isochronic tones are the not the same

The differences are

Binaural beats are separate frequencies functioning together

While isochronic tones are frequencies of a singular wave

You could use either one

“What if you can’t visualize?”

No worries!

If you are unable to visualize like I was I want you to practice this method instead

The non visualization method:

Requires no daydreaming no visualization

How to enter void with a clear mental image

1. As stated before get into a comfortable position

2. Put on either subliminal or instrumental

3. Close your eyes and instead of visualizing

I want you to lay completely still

In about 15 minutes or when you feel it’s been awhile

Start moving your eyes rapidly

Not too fast

You know when you’re fake sleeping and your mom tries to see if you’re actually asleep

Like that move your eyes

Not like you WANT to wake up but more like as in you are dreaming

This will trick you into thinking you’re in the “R.E.M” state

The REM state also known as “Rapid eye movement”

This occurs when your brain waves and your mind are becoming consciously aware

You’ll feel like waking up because you’re in the process of waking up

But you’re still asleep

This where you dream

Or if you have Aphantasia(the inability to visualize) whether your dream or not

Many people with aphantasia still dream they’re just low in sensory

Anyways during REM sleep

You’re basically half awake half asleep

The duration is about 90 minutes

To trick yourself into thinking you’re in the REM state

After awhile of laying still and tricking your body into thinking you’re asleep

Move your eyes rapidly

You’ll start seeing little lights or colors that’s behind your eyelids

These are called “phosphenes”

Focus on these colors behind your eyes

Until you feel you’ve are in a self induced trance

You might end up in the hypnagogic state

Hypnagogia are phoshenes which is where you’re between awaking consciousness and sleep

You’ll hallucinate different patterns shapes smells etc

This is just extra information

The main key here is if you can’t visualize

Trick your body into thinking you’re the REM state by moving your eyes

And focusing on the lights shapes sparkles or colors you see behind your eyes

4. When you feel like your mind is blank/fuzzy at this point

Start affirming or counting or both while still focusing on the colors

This helps you take the focus off of your surroundings and your body

Because at this point you’ll be feeling symptoms

If you don’t it doesn’t mean you’re not doing it right

You don’t need symptoms

They’re your bodies reaction to falling asleep

That floating feeling

Is also part of your body falling asleep

You ever had dream you were falling and you wake up thinking you were falling?

The void requires no symptoms

So if you get some don’t get excited

It just means your body is full asleep

It only takes 15 minutes to fall asleep

The Gateway Experience

First and foremost it’s important to know not to use too many different brain wave audios choose a few you resonate with the most

This audio below is from either the 60s or 80s

Anyways it’s been proven by the CiA that the void state exists

Monks have done for centuries tapping into it whilst chanting the OM mantra

Below I’ve provided the hemi synch subliminal and a theta wave subliminal one with the OM mantra one without

And one is for shifting realities but you can block out the shifting affs if you just wanna enter the void

We have different brain waves here’s what each one is and used for

Beta wave: Alertness awakened consciousness active thinking

Examples

You in school or work

Theta wave: Creativity

Dreaming deep meditative states

Examples

Meditation or when you’re about to fall asleep

Delta waves: Deep sleep

Reduced waking consciousness

Examples

Deep sleeping

Epilson waves: Spiritual awareness and insight along with inspiration

Subliminals I recommend

And good luck guys

I love you babies so much

But please remember not to give these subliminals or even me

Power

The power lies within you

So if these work

It’s because you allow them too

You might think you’re self concept is good

But there’s two versions of your mind

Your 3D brain and your 4D brain

Your 4D brain is where your imagination lies

Your 3D brain is you right now

Both are you but they must both be in synch

Your 3D brain needs to also know your power

In other words you could say all you want that you’re “The God of your reality” or that you “Enter the void easily”

But you need to actually believe it

Many believe that reprogramming the subconscious mind takes months or weeks have clearly never of Psych k

Psych k is a method that aligns both sides of the brain in tune to absorb whatever information you tell it

It’s supposed to require your brain in only minutes

Watch this video to learn how to do it

I know some success stories are exaggerated but never get discouraged if you do

Search “Electra Soul” on YouTube

She helped me when I needed the motivation

Here is more subliminals for you to try out

Don’t ask people to enter for you

Because it’s not 100% guaranteed even if it was

Everything in your life

Is the way this because of how YOU assume it to be

Change your assumptions

If I entered for everyone but you still have a shitty self concept

Your life would not be better that’s like me giving a kid homework for something he’s already been taught

But he still expects me to do it for him

How else does he learn? He does it himself

Then if he needs help he asks

Reason why they’re called “TEACHers” to teach you the things you need to know not do it for you

Plus you feel so much more accomplished and confident when you get things done by yourself

At the end of the day all you have is you

We’re all just random strangers

Your subconscious mind is not a person so stop talking at it

But talk TO it

It’s like a tape recorder

The current tape that’s in is repeating negative affirmations that’s you’ve subconsciously embeddeded into your mind

Change the tape

Re record those thoughts

Place them with wanted desired thoughts

Here’s more subs for you as I mentioned earlier

Hemi Synch

[babydollmarauders]

WYD NOW? — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!singer!reader

summary: in which y/n writes a song about her ex-boyfriend, 3 years after their breakup, and it gets back to him, leading to their reconnection

notes: inspired by the song WYD Now? by Sadie Jean. ending kinda sucks, but ehh i did my best. pretty sure i lost motivation for this halfway through it, but i tried to power through.

not my gif

*** JUNE 17TH, 2018 ***

“i bet, at this time in a few years, we’ll be painting the walls of our shared apartment.” my boyfriend’s whisper rings through my ears as i turn my head to look at him.

heat rises to my cheeks, Jack’s blue eyes gazing into mine.

“yeah?” i laugh, running a hand through his hair, still damp from the shower he took before coming over.

“mhm.” he hums in confirmation, his hand snaking up under the stolen shirt that adorns my body, gripping my waist and pulling me closer. “i’ll be playing hockey, and you’ll be a big pop star, my little songbird.”

i bury my face into his neck in attempt to hide the redness on the apples of my cheeks from the nickname.

“you gonna write songs about me?” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the side of my head.

“i already do.” i murmur, my lips brushing against his collarbone, causing him to shiver.

*** JULY 30TH, 2019 ***

“i don’t think i understand.” it feels like my head is underwater, my lungs burning for oxygen, but unable to receive it.

“we can still be friends, y/n. you can call me whenever.” Jack sits on my bed, gripping my hands in his hold. “the future is just, so far away and we don’t know what’ll happen.

“i don’t want my dreams to hold you back from achieving yours, y/n. you may not see it right now, but this just seems like the best option for now. and maybe, down the line, once we’re both at a stable place in our careers, if we’re both single, we can revisit us.”

my head is bobbing ‘yes’ but my heart is screaming ‘no!’

it’s like my brain understands where he’s coming from, that he’s being logical and that he’s doing this for the greater good of both of us; no matter what we’ve always thought, we’re still just kids, we were dreaming. but my heart isn’t getting that message. all my heart knows is that it’s being crushed into a thousand pieces and it feels pretty unsalvageable right now.

“are you okay?”

it’s my instinct to tell him ‘yes’. my instinct to not let him know how much he’s really hurting me. how much i want to scream that we’ll be fine. that i would give up my dream to be by his side while he accomplishes his. but i know that would just hurt him; because that isn’t what he wants.

he may be hurting me, but he’s doing it for all the right reasons. he doesn’t want me to push my dreams aside for his, because he wants to see me living them. he wants the best for me.

“yeah, i’m okay. i understand.”

*** PRESENT: SOCIAL MEDIA ***

y/nonthegram

liked by tatemcrae and 246,517 others

y/nonthegram in your faded t-shirt

that i’ve kept this long

i still hear you laughing

Load more comments

user13 NEW LYRICS??

user92 that’s what i was thinking too! seems too poetic to just be a caption

trevorzegras hey that looks familiar

user57 OH MY GOD NEW MUSIC?

user04 AHHH ANNOUNCE A NEW ALBUM PLEASE

user6 I’LL EVEN JUST TAKE A NEW SINGLE! I JUST NEED NEW MUSIC

tatemcrae my best friend writes the best captions

y/nonthegram MY best friend writes the best songs

tatemcrae says you!

user83 new love song? break-up song? both?

colecaufield what’s this 👀

y/nonthegram

liked by trevorzegras and 283,752 others

y/nonthegram surprise! ‘WYD Now?’ out tonight at midnight.

wholly written in my bedroom at 2am, this song means the absolute most to me, and i hope some of you can find comfort in it like i have <3

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user04 OH MY GOD! THANK YOU FOR BLESSING OUR EARS TONIGHT!

colecaufield so proud of you!

y/nonthegram thank you, coley ♥️

user94 since when does she know nhl players?

user63 she went to high school with some of the 2019 draft class

user72 I CAN’T WAIT OMG

user18 SHAKING, CRYING, THROWING UP! I’M SO EXCITED

_alexturcotte our little melody makin’ munchkin, making moves!

y/nonthegram oh god please don’t bring back “melody makin’ munchkin”

_alexturcotte too late

tatemcrae GO BEST FRIEND THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND

y/nonthegram LEMME KISS YOUR FACE!! MWAH!!

user55 i’m so curious to hear these lyrics 😭 how am i gonna wait 8 more hours?!

jackhughes

liked by y/nonthegram and 352,850 others

jackhughes 3/3

Load more comments

user77 hey wait, didn’t @/y/nonthegram date Jack in high school? is the new song yesterday about him?

user55 yess! it’s gotta be!

trevorzegras dizzyyy

user91 you should go listen to y/n’s new song 👀

user02 have you heard ‘WYD Now?’ ???

user36 omg he remembered to post 3/3

colecaufield same time next summer? 🫡

subbanator 🚀

y/nonthegram

liked by jackhughes and 227,951 others

y/nonthegram i’m so grateful for all the love on ‘WYD Now?’ these past couple days! thank you all! <3

here’s some photos @/tatemcrae took at our song celly night last night to celebrate the release of WYD Now? and greedy!

in celebration, i’ll be answering some questions in the comments!

Load more comments

user74 is the song fictional? or was it inspired by someone?

y/nonthegram not fictional <3

user99 is this a single off the upcoming album? or just a normal song?

y/nonthegram the album is still being written, so i can’t confirm or deny if this is a single because i’m not sure yet if it’ll be on the track list! <3

colecaufield omg y/n please come to Montreal! i love you so much! you’re my idol!

y/nonthegram hey remember that time i bumped you with my car? i think we should do that again! i’ll stomp on the gas this time!

colecaufield omg you noticed me!!

user42 at 18, where did you imagine yourself being at this age?

y/nonthegram New Jersey <3

trevorzegras where did he set the bar?

y/nonthegram above the moon

user28 if the song isn’t fictional, then who’s it about?

user96 it’s 100% about jack hughes. if you scroll way down on her page, there’s pics of her and jack in high school, but they stop when they were 18. then he moved to new jersey and now he’s playing hockey, like the song states “you finally got the job you like”. that we’re all aware of, she didn’t have any other boyfriends in high school. she and jack seemingly dated from ages 16-18 until he left for the NHL

liked by y/nonthegram

_quinnhughes 💙

user10 this song was amazing! i really related and it made me feel so seen!

user88 big question is: has jack heard the song yet?

jackhughes call me?

user98 @/user88 if he hadn’t, i’m guessing he has now

*** PRESENT: REAL LIFE ***

my heart races as the notification comes through.

i wasn’t sure if he listened to my music, or if the song would get back to him. i just needed to get my feelings down on paper, and then it turned into a song, and then i liked it too much to not release it.

the night i wrote it, i had played a small show in New York, and i could’ve sworn i saw him in the back of the venue. of course, i knew it wasn’t, but it had rattled me; bringing all my feelings for him back to the forefront of my brain.

“call him.” my head snaps up to face my best friend, her eyes soft as she looks at me from the doorway.

“i-” Tate cuts me off with a shake of her head.

“don’t make excuses, y/n. call him.” she repeats, “you deserve to be happy, and from what you’ve told me, he makes you happy.”

she doesn’t stick around; instead bidding me goodbye and heading back to my guest room to give me some privacy.

i pace my bedroom, iphone clutched in my hand. his contact is pulled up, but i can’t seem to build up the nerve to call him. though, it seems i don’t have to, because my phone begins to ring instead, Jack’s photo displaying on the screen.

“hi.” i breathe out, pressing the phone to my ear.

“hi.” he repeats. “i heard your new song. i’m so proud of you, my little songbird.”

my face heats up, blood rushing to my cheeks. i haven’t heard that nickname in almost four years.

“thank you.” my words come out a whisper, still in disbelief that i’m talking to him again.

“did you mean it?” the question causes a panic to erupt in me, swarms of butterflies erupting in my nervous system.

“did i mean what, Jacky?” i need him to say it.

“what you wrote,” he clears his throat, “in the song. did you mean it all? do you still think of me? do you really wanna try again?”

laying sprawled out on my bed, i stare up at the ceiling as i speak.

“i wouldn’t have written it if it wasn’t true.”

“oh- okay. so, uh,” he stutters, but i can hear the smile on his lips, causing the same reaction upon my own face, “where are you right now?”

“um, my apartment?” my brows thread together in confusion, but he just chuckles.

“i mean like, are you living in LA? are you home in Michigan? what state?”

“oh.” i bite my lip, squeezing my eyes shut in embarrassment. “i live in New York, Jack.”

“really?” his voice is emotionally distant and seemingly hurt. “so close?”

“yeah.” i nod, although he can’t see me. “i’ve gone to a few of your games.”

“you did?”

“mhm.” i hum in confirmation. “i just- i didn’t wanna be the one to reach out and then have you think oddly of me or have you already be in a relationship or something. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you, i just didn’t wanna be seen as that clingy ex-girlfriend or anything.”

“that’s not what you are, y/n.” he sighs, “would you wanna meet up soon? catch up? i’d love to hear about your glamorous new pop star life.”

“i’d love to. although, i wouldn’t call myself a pop star, Jacky.”

“you are to me.” i blush at his words, glad he can’t see how much of a mess i am at the moment. “are you free on saturday? i have practice in the morning, but after that, maybe we could go to lunch?”

“yeah, i can do that.” i confirm.

“okay great, i’ll text you on friday to hash out details?”

“sounds great!” my cool hand rises to press against my heated face in attempt to cool myself down.

“great. i gotta go, Luke and i are going out with the guys. i’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”

“yeah. bye, Jack.” i wait for him to repeat a goodbye before hanging up, burying face in my pillow and letting out a muffled scream.

***

my knee bounces underneath the table of the New York City diner, my hands clasped together on the table.

Jack should be here any minute, and saying i’m nervous would be an understatement. my palms are clammy, my legs won’t stop shaking, and i’m eighty percent sure that i have no skin left on my bottom lip because i’ve chewed it all off.

the little bell above the door rings and my head snaps up to look, but it’s just a young couple with their toddler. i send a friendly smile to the tired looking mother before looking back down at my hands that won’t stop fidgeting.

i zone out, retreating back into my head and all the thoughts that have been plaguing me since we planned this meeting.

what if he doesn’t like me anymore?

what if he has a girlfriend and he’s just trying to be nice?

or worse, what if he’s just asked me here so he could tell me to leave him alone? to stop writing songs about him.

“hi.” i’m pulled out of my thoughts by Jack sliding into the booth across from me, a gentle smile on his face.

his hand snakes across the table to hold mine, and i can’t help but feel like a teenager again, back when we used to have dates like this all the time; where he would hold my hand over the table and we would laugh and joke around for hours.

“hey.” i smile back, giving his hand a small squeeze in return.

“how are you?” he questions. he brings his hand back in order to hold his menu, but his focus remains on me, not even glancing down at the menu yet.

“i’m good!” i nod. “how are you?”

“good, i’m glad. i’m good too.”

we’re interrupted by a waitress, taking a second to look over our menu’s before giving her our orders.

once she retreats, i squirm from the small talk, never having been any good at it. which Jack seems to remember.

“so, how’s the pop star life?” he smirks teasingly, and i giggle.

“not a pop star.” i remind him, shaking my head. “but it’s good. i like where i’m at right now in my career. i like having a strong fanbase but still being unknown enough that i’m not being hounded on or followed like, say, Taylor Swift.

“i’m able to just write my music and put it out, go on small tours, interact with my fans on a more personal level; it’s really nice. i don’t know if i would want it to be more than that.”

he nods in understanding, a wide grin on his face as he listens.

“i get it. and i’m really glad you’ve achieved what you wanted. i’ve always rooted for you.”

“what about you? mr. ninety-nine point season!” he blushes at my words, shaking his head and looking down at his hands, which rest on the tabletop. “how’s that?”

“it’s good! really good.” he looks back up at me, and i have to fight myself from getting lost in his eyes like i would when we were seventeen. “i love it. it’s hard, it’s a lot of work, but it’s amazing. and honestly, i’m pretty glad i’m not on a canadian team. i like that i can go out and still have a pretty normal life outside of hockey, ya know? not be stopped on the street a bunch.”

“yeah, i get it.” i tell him. “i’m so glad you’re happy though. you play great, as you always have.”

he releases a ‘thanks’ before a silence settles over us, neither of us sure what exactly to say next.

i begin to play with the paper wrapper from my straw, winding it around my finger before sliding it off and gently pulling it straight again.

“so, Cole sends me your songs.”

snap! the paper wrapper breaks in two as i look up at him.

“he does?”

“yeah. you know i don’t get on social media too much, so i don’t always know right away when you put one out, but Cole sends me all of them. just in case i miss one.” he explains.

my head bobs up and down as i try to display a level of cool, “oh.”

“that doesn’t bother you, does it?” he asks. “that i don’t always listen to them right away?”

“not at all! i didn’t really think you listened to them at all.” i confess, sinking lower into the booth. “not really your genre.”

he smiles gently, reaching forward to hold my hand tightly in his.

“y/n, you could write a children’s nursery rhyme, and i would still listen to it.”

my head tips back against the booth, joyous laughter spilling from my lips. my nose scrunches, resulting in a small snort, which cause him to laugh as well.

“you’re just saying that.” i choke out, and he shakes his head.

“no! i’m serious! i would!” Jack insists, right as the waitress arrives with our food. she sets our food in front of us, making sure we’re all set before she retreats.

a comfortable small talk takes over as we eat; discussing our friends and their accomplishments since graduation.

“you remember that time,” Jack starts through broken laughter, “that you hit Cole with your car because he said he didn’t think it would hurt?”

“yes! and i barely even tapped him, but the big baby whined that it hurt so bad, i may have crushed his NHL dreams!” my face hurts from smiling so big, but i can no longer fight it.

“and then he was fine and back to practice that afternoon! not even a bruise left on him!” he retorts.

“ever the dramatic, Cole is.” i sigh, sitting back in my seat from position slouched over the table.

“since we’re walking down memory lane, do you remember how i said that maybe down the line, we could revisit us?”

i’m sobered up now, my smile gone as i eye him. he’s playing with his bracelets, a sign of nerves from him, and i just now realize that he’s still wearing the string friendship bracelet i gave him at eighteen; just before his draft.

i swallow the lump that built in throat, nodding, “yeah.”

“you think maybe now would be a good time to do that?” he asks. “start slow; go on dates again, maybe you could come over sometime for movie night with Luke and i, come to a few more of my games, where i actually know you’re there this time. and then see where that could take us?”

butterflies swarm my stomach, my heart beating rapidly in my chest, and my teeth sink into my lower lip, biting back a smile.

“i’d love that, Jack.”

[seresinhangmanjake]

Stolen Angel - Part 4

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 1793

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

“You didn't eat.”  

You don’t flinch at the intrusion of his voice, not this time. While it was peaceful without his deep tone in your ear, you knew him finding you was inevitable, and honestly, you’re surprised it took him this long. Although, it’s possible that he didn’t need to find you at all; he could have been watching you from afar. Just because you haven’t seen his face in almost twenty-four hours doesn’t mean he hasn’t seen yours, and you’ve certainly provided him with an unobstructed view. But then you wonder why he hasn’t dragged you back to your room. 

You weren’t going to run. You just needed to see it, feel it, for yourself. Maybe that’s why he’s let you be; why he’s not scolding you until your brain melts. Maybe he knows that you won’t have logic overpowering your emotions when it comes to this, because even if you had some semblance of which direction to go in, you wouldn’t know what to do once you got there. To be anywhere other than here, like it or not you need him. You need his guidance and support, and worst of all, his permission.

“I ate some of it,” you confess. 

“Not enough,” he says. 

When he steps in front of you, his body eclipses the sun. The field around you untouched by his shadow still radiates its vibrant shades while you sit in the darkness he is creating. You look up, and his blond hair is glowing almost blindly from the backlight of the sun.

“Why are you out here, Angel?”

You turn your attention to your hand that’s nestled in the grass. “I had to see if it was real,” you say softly as you twirl your finger around a green blade.

He hums. “And are you satisfied with what you've found?”

Satisfied? You could scoff. What a foolish question; a disrespectful question. You can’t be satisfied with what you don’t understand. Feeling the dirt between your fingers and toes doesn’t provide you with the wealth of clarity he has been denying you. Clarity that you’re owed. 

“Come on,” he says at your lack of reply, reaching out a hand. “Out of the grass.”

“Tell me what this place is,” you say.

“I can explain it to you later. You’re not completely healed and we need to—”

“No,” you snap, meeting his eyes. “Now. Explain it to me now.”

Jake sighs, his hand dropping back to his side. “Angel—”

“I could become a lot more difficult, you know.”

He lets out a huff of a chuckle. Little crinkles form in the corners of his eyes. “Yes, I do know.”

“Then tell me.”

His smile settles. He mutters something under his breath before he glances over your head to the structure behind you. When you turn to get a look at what has stolen his attention, you find only an empty doorway. 

“You want me to like you, don’t you?” you ask, knowing that will draw him back to you. 

A blond brow raises in curiosity and suspicion. “This will make you like me?”

“It would help,” you lie. “The truth is important to me, and I don’t understand how you can expect me to want to be here if I have no clue what ‘here’ is.”

As he bites the inside of his cheek, you begin to worry that the promise of your affection is not a strong enough offer—that he might want more than just your words, he’ll want proof that you intend to follow through with what you say by your actions—but then he turns where he stands and lowers himself into the grass beside you. He’s close, and when his wing brushes over yours as he makes himself comfortable, he’s quick to pull it away, as if your feathers could set his aflame. 

Clearing his throat, he runs a hand through his hair before he rests his elbows on his bent knees. “It’s called The Tower,” he eventually says. “It was a prison, technically, until about two months ago.”

“A prison,” you repeat. “How fitting.”

He shoots you a look. You’ve offended him and you need to reign yourself in. “If you bothered to behave, it wouldn’t have to feel like one,” he informs you.

You hold back from rolling your eyes. You’re the textbook definition of a prisoner and you both know it. He can deny it to your face all he wants, but you have a right to feel like this place is a prison, even if it doesn’t exactly have the look of a prison. At least, not where you’re from. You don’t know of many ‘cells’ that include wardrobes, open windows, double beds with thick coverings, and fireplaces. Before you left your room you were imagining many possibilities for the cage you’ve been kept in, but among those were large estate or small castle, not a home for the naughty winged people.

“It’s awfully fancy for a prison,” you say.

“Our offenses weren’t so horrible.”

Our? 

Your brows almost shoot off your forehead until you take a half-second to soak it in and then accept the shame of being shocked. “Of course, you’re a criminal,” you say, nodding to yourself. “Did you kidnap a few other innocents and turn them into monsters, too?”

Jake doesn’t look you in the eye as he swallows hard, so you turn your head back to the horizon. “You’re not a monster, Angel. You’re perfect,” he tells you, then shakes his head. “But no. There were no others. I broke a rule—the same rule—a few times, which got me three separate six-month sentences in five years. Four months into my last one, the prison was dissolved here and set up elsewhere. Everyone was released; I stayed.”

Your brow pinches. “Why would you stay in the place you were captive?”

“I liked my room—well, your room right now. I liked the view. I thought it would be a good place for us once you joined me,” he says. “Secluded. Intimate.” 

Stomach flipping, your heartbeat gives a sharp thud. Instinctually, you think to move away, make an early retreat back to your room, but for once he’s actually answering your questions and you can’t sacrifice that in case you’re never given the same chance.

“What was the rule that you broke?” you ask. 

“Out past curfew, so to speak.”

“Out where?”

Jake goes silent, contemplating, then he says, “That's enough for now.”

But it’s not enough for you. “Out where?” you press to no response, so with a huff, you push off the ground to stand. 

He grabs your wrist as you’re about to take a step. “Sit,” he says. “I'll tell you if you stay.” 

Subtly smirking at the win, you return to the grass. 

Jake blows out a breath. “The Below,” he tells you.

“The Below…” You roll the words around on your tongue. They mean nothing to you until Jake makes a face like he might come to regret what he’s just done, and then they mean everything. “My world?”

Jake groans. “How many times do I have to tell you that that is not your—”

“You were there more than just that one time?” you interrupt, stunned that you momentarily forgot that your home is where he met you. It must have been the anger or fear or lasting daze from the week of pain, but somehow it didn’t register that you could potentially return as well. “How?”

“No more questions,” he scolds.  

“But I thought you wanted me to like you,” you counter. 

Shifting to sit on your hip with your legs bent at your side, you set your hand on top of his. He stares at the new touch, then his thumb begins to rub along the line of your index finger in soft, slow motions. 

He doesn’t stop his staring. He doesn’t stop his thumb’s gentle caressing. “Yes, I was there more than just that one time.”

Despite your carefully restrained excitement at the plethora of new information, you forget the game you’re playing and jerk your hand away from his just as he’s about to intertwine your fingers. “So you can go whenever you want?” you ask. “Then take me.”

At the demand, his teeth clench, jawline sharpening. “No, I cannot go whenever I want, and no, I am not taking you.”

“Why not!”

“Because you are right where you should be,” he says decisively. 

You feel his heightening irritation, so you quickly place your palm on his shoulder and slide it down to his toned bicep where it stays. 

“I just want to see it,” you tell him before you scoot yourself closer to his side, your hip a couple inches shy of pressing against his. He looks down to where your bodies are nearly touching, then back up at you. You try a light smile. “Please, Jake.”

His eyes lock on to your smile, your lips. He darts his tongue out to wet his own, and you prepare yourself for the kiss you’re sure he’s about to give you—a kiss you won’t say no to if it helps get you home—but it’s a kiss that never comes. He just thinks; drinks in your smile and thinks. 

The green of his irises in the sunlight is overwhelming when directed at you for such a long pause, and you don’t initially notice when he opens his mouth. 

“If you show me that you can listen to me and do as I tell you, I’ll consider it,” he finally says. 

Your head flinches back, mind immediately going to the worst of what he could want from you. “What will you be telling me to do?” 

“To start, you’re going back inside. You haven’t finished healing and because you took yourself on a little adventure, you stressed your wing and now part of it is inflamed. You need rest.”

You must have been so mentally preoccupied that you blocked out all physical transmission to your brain because it’s only when he says it that you feel the return of the ache.  

“And you’re going to eat,” he continues. “Everything, this time.”

“Fine,” you relent. 

“You’re going to wear something made of more comfortable fabric than that,” he gestures to your smock, “And you’re going to stop arguing with me over every damn thing. You can’t change what’s been done, so being pissed at me doesn’t do you any good.”

It takes extra effort to muster up an agreement to that last one. Your swallow you can only compare to trying to get down a sponge soaked in wet cement. “Fine,” you grit out.

“Fine,” he says, standing. He extends his hand out toward you again. “Let’s see if you’re capable of behaving, Angel.”

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @fandom-life-12 @hookslove1592 @buckysteveloki-me @eloquentdreamer

[v3x-y0urs3lf]

Qiu Lin x Loner / unpopular / shy? MC

Written during the demo ⭐️

Tamarack x Popular reader

Depending on what steps I’m talking about, I’ll change Qiu’s pronouns..

Also, I’m aware that being a ‘loner’ or unpopular doesn’t necessarily mean you’re shy. I do occasionally mention the MC being shy, unlike step 1 Qiu I’m not always going to be able to be too accommodating.

I kind of got sidetracked during the end of Step 3, I’m sorry it doesn’t really fit with the theme.

I am incredibly tired right now, apologies if the English isn’t clear. I did not proof read this.

————————————————————

I feel like this trope perfectly fits Qiu during a majority of the steps (1-3 I don’t really know about 4.) mainly because Qiu - despite not really intending on it, just is naturally popular even during step 2 (somehow?)

Step one Qiu just doing his usual thing with being overly accommodating and super welcoming to the new neighbour and they’re just.. not accepting it?

You can try and turn Qiu down softly or even just straight up ignore him and he’d.. accept it? I dunno, going off by Qiu’s normal reactions to when you choose to dismiss him.. he doesn’t seem like he’d care unless someone’s starting to judge or bother the MC and vice versa.

I’d like to just highlight that like.. everyone knows Qiu? I quite literally just imagine a bunch of kids during school constantly asking to play with him and while Qiu feels a bit too mean to decline.. he really wants to go play with his new neighbour?

Qiu would try and introduce the MC (and Tamarack.. maybe.) to all of his other friends but.. Neither of them are really budging which puts Qiu at a bit of a cross point.

I’m honestly not too sure what he’d do, lol. My heart wants me to say that Qiu would just go play with the MC anyways, regardless of how many people want him to play with t them but. My brain is telling me he’d give in to all the majority and play with them for a while before going to find the MC later.

Does that mean Qiu doesn’t want to go play with the MC instead? No. Does that mean Qiu doesn’t look their way occasionally while he’s playing tag with the other kids? No. Does that mean Qiu hurts the other kids’ feelings by straight up turning them down? Also no.

Logically thinking, despite what he wants- Qiu would pick to accomodate for the bigger crowd but leave a section of his time to make up for ‘ditching’ the MC for a moment.

It’s very obvious around that Qiu will always go back for the MC. No matter how fun the game is, No matter how distracted/forgetful he usually gets, No matter how many people he’s playing with- He will. Without a doubt. Go talk or play with the MC for at least 10 minutes before break or whatever ends.

Now, Step two.. “All they want in life is a little peace with the ones they trust. Such as, potentially their very favourite neighbor/neighbour.”

Qiu is still very obviously and very much ‘popular’. That never changes throughout their life (probably). They just don’t want to be.

Picture Qiu and MC, chilling by themselves and just avoiding people. By this stage there shouldn’t be any shyness or complete hatred and so, the two of them just sit with each other comfortably as Qiu rejects and declines any and all offers to hang out with anyone else but MC, Ren, Baxter(?) and.. potentially Tamarack? (Not sure about the last two.)

Unfortunately, Qiu can’t control their popularity or ‘Acquaintances’/old friends and everyone does notice when the ‘popular kid’ starts solely hanging out with one person in particular.

I’m not saying MC is getting bullied.. I’m just saying everyone can tell there is obvious favouritism and high school students can and will be mean.. take that as you will.

This is totally the time for “doesn’t get the hype but warms up to person B”.

I might just be biased but.. After 4 years you’d think you’d warm up to the neighbour kid enough to start to.. tolerate? Be content? .. perhaps even enjoy the presence of?

I don’t want to describe the MC too much but let’s just say the feelings between the both of them are mutual. (As in two teens just wanting to get away from the world.)

The two of you find solace in each other’s presence, the two of you having a mutual understanding that you both don’t really want to interact with the world but you’re totally fine with each other.

I hate how short step 2 was but I don’t know how else to describe angsty teens being angsty teens. So we’re moving onto Step three.

Qiu now understands the MC more, After having 8 years knowing each other and at least 4 years of deep conversations as angsty teenagers they can now officially say they understand your point of view.

Qiu doesn’t try to push the MC out of their comfort zone like he would’ve back in Step 1 but they certainly wouldn’t leave the MC to exactly stay in their own shell of aloofness.

Qiu does try to suggest getting out there, meeting new people but if you totally don’t want to- Up to you! They aren’t you and so they will NOT make that decision for you.

Autumn is up for a chat if you’re looking for one though, even the quietest, shyest, most aloof people in town sometimes need someone their age to talk to. Qiu gets it.

You were there through a very deep part of Qiu’s life and they are ready to be for you too if you want them there. Qiu can’t promise that they’ll help solve your problems or make you the talk of the town, but you better bet that they’ll cherish your relationship far after death do the two of you part.