#but sometimes you can't always stay in the same thing. you know...

[busyw0man]

⋆｡‧˚ʚ💋ɞ˚‧｡⋆ 𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐰𝐝:

emails i can't send

❝ it's times like these wish i had a time machine. ❞

❝ there's no us in us when i'm lacking trust. ❞ 

❝ you disgust me. ❞

❝ i get nice guys and villanize them. ❞

❝ scared i'll find out that it's true. ❞

❝ and, god, i love you, but youre such a dipshit. ❞

❝ please fucking fix this. ❞ 

vicious

❝ and i tried to look for the best in the worst. ❞ 

❝ but like, fuck me, that caused a commotion. ❞

❝ you're lucky i'm a private person. ❞

❝ why you gotta be so vicious? ❞

❝ you just run to whoever is winning. ❞

❝ said that it was me and you for life. ❞

❝ you don't feel remorse. ❞

❝ you don't fee the effect. ❞

❝ cause you don't think you hurt me if you wish me the best. ❞ 

❝ i was only the next one to take your love songs as a promise. ❞ 

read your mind

❝ say its hard, but you make it look easy. ❞

❝ tell me that you miss me in your life. ❞

❝ i can't read your mind. ❞

❝ to think that we could be casual. ❞

❝ you're not my friend and baby, you never were. ❞

❝ did i get the message in the way you intended? ❞

tornado warnings

❝ don't understand how quickly we get right back in the rhythm without missing a step. ❞

❝ but i want you here sometimes. ❞

❝ i guess maybe thats why i'm lying to my therapist. ❞ 

❝ i think he's onto me every time i say, "i'm over that son of a bitch" ❞ 

❝ i deserve an hour in a week to focus on my thoughts. ❞ 

❝ i'll drive you home. ❞ 

❝ you drive me crazy. ❞ 

❝ i'll call you out. ❞

❝ but thats not gonna stop me. ❞

because i liked a boy

❝ i said i wanted thin mints and you said you knew a guy. ❞

❝ who knew cuddling on trampolines could be so reckless? ❞

❝ now i'm a homewrecker. ❞

❝ tell me who i am. ❞

❝ guess i don't have a choice. ❞

❝ i'm a hot topic on your tongue. ❞

❝ i'm not carastrophizing, everythings derailing. ❞

❝ you said i'm too late to be your first love but i'll always be your favorite. ❞

❝ i got death threats fillin up semi trucks. ❞

❝ and all of this for what? ❞

❝ when everything went down, we'd already broken up. ❞

❝ all because i liked a boy. ❞ 

already over

❝ same time here next weekend. ❞

❝ how am i supposed to close the door when i still need the closure? ❞

❝ how am i supposed to leave you now that you're already over? ❞

❝ selfishly don't wanna give you time to be on someone else's lips. ❞

❝ after the aftermath, i know you'll be coming back. ❞

❝ and it won't be the last time. ❞

❝ i say, "i'm done, " but i'm still confused. ❞ 

how many things

❝ there's no hidin' from the thought of us. ❞

❝ i got ways to find you anywhere. ❞

❝ and we talked until the same came up. ❞

❝ i wish we stayed just like we were up there. ❞

❝ it doesn't matter whether not i want to. ❞

❝ i can't help it, it's a habit. ❞

❝ i feel myself falling further down your priorities. ❞ 

❝ that never made too much sense to me. ❞

❝ you really came to me for sympathy? ❞

❝ am i not even a second thought? ❞ 

bet u wanna

❝ it's all unfloding. ❞

❝ now you say you hate all the empty space. ❞ 

❝ didn't think about it when you let me down. ❞

❝ bet you wanna touch me now. ❞

❝ it's cold out there. ❞

❝ let me know what you found. ❞

❝ bet you wanna love me now. ❞

❝ is that feeding all your fears? ❞ 

❝ your so-called friends are gone. ❞

❝ i know what you're bout to say. ❞

❝ bet you're reminiscing. ❞

❝ i bet you hate the way you said goodbye. ❞

❝ and you still can't even tell me why. ❞

nonsense

❝ think i only want one number in my phone. ❞

❝ treat me like a queen. ❞

❝ but i can't help myself. ❞

❝ i don't want no one else. ❞

❝ baby, i'm in too deep. ❞

❝ i'll be honest. ❞

❝ lookin' at you gor me thinkin' nonsense. ❞

❝ i can't find my chill, i must have lost it. ❞

❝ you gotta keep up with me. ❞

❝ i got some young energy. ❞

❝ i don't even know anymore. ❞

❝ i bet your house is where my other sock is. ❞

❝ that one's not gonna make it. ❞ 

fast times

❝ sun's up too soon like daylight savings. ❞

❝ ahead of myself's an understatement. ❞

❝ but what the fuck is patience? ❞

❝ no time for rewrites. ❞

❝ give me a second to forget i ever really meant it. ❞

❝ we couldn't help it. ❞

❝ my feelings used to be serrated. ❞

❝ but you speak in such a perfect cadence. ❞

skinny dipping

❝ we've been swimmin' on the edge of a cliff. ❞

❝ i'm resistant. ❞

❝ it'd be so nice, right? ❞

❝ water under the bridge. ❞

❝ we won't sit at our same old table, i promise. ❞

❝ we'll be thinkin' about how different we are from those scared little kids. ❞ 

bad for business

❝ all of my friends think i've gone crazy. ❞

❝ we look good in photographs. ❞

❝ i like the way you like to laugh at dirty jokes. ❞

❝ it's sad but true, and i know it. ❞

❝ i can't find a single reason. ❞

❝ he ruined all my plans. ❞

❝ and he just makes me so crazy. ❞

❝ i know everyone sees that he'll be the death of me. ❞ 

❝ he's good for my heart. ❞

❝ he's very bad for business. ❞

❝ but they don't know me. ❞ 

decode

❝ you're good at impersonating someone who cares. ❞

❝ you had me for a minute there. ❞

❝ where else can we go? ❞

❝ there's nothing left here to decode. ❞

❝ it's just getting old. ❞

❝ there's a weight off my shoulders now that i don't chase you. ❞

❝ i wanna make a video to our future selves. ❞ 

opposite

❝ so you do have a type and it's not me. ❞

❝ so you can reply, just to not me. ❞

❝ you knew i would see that. ❞

❝ you knew i would notice. ❞

❝ she looks nothing like me. ❞

❝ so why do you look so happy? ❞

❝ does she say nothin' so you feel good? ❞

❝ does she get up on top of you more than i would? ❞

❝ does she just love the picture cause you're painting it? ❞

❝ i care, but i don't. ❞

❝ was i being lied to? ❞

feather

❝ i'm your dream come true. ❞

❝ then you pull back when i try to make plans more than two hours in advance. ❞

❝ i got you blocked. ❞

❝ i feel so much lighter. ❞

❝ whatever, you're a waste of time. ❞

❝ your signals are mixed. ❞

❝ you act like a bitch. ❞

❝ you fit every stereotype. ❞

❝ send a pic. ❞

❝ it feels so good not caring where you are tonight. ❞

❝ excited to never talk. ❞

❝ i'm so sorry for your loss. ❞

❝ you miss me? ❞ 

lonesome

❝ if i fall in love with all my problems, will they leave me too? ❞

❝ why were you somewhere else? ❞

❝ i know you know it keeps me up. ❞

❝ did you even give a fuck? ❞ 

❝ you can't spell lonesome without me. ❞

❝ i can't escape your history. ❞

❝ tell me i was more than just a decent opportunity. ❞

❝ isn't it kind of strange how it all changed when i wasn't the one they wanted you to love? ❞

❝ you just can't. ❞

things i wish you said

❝ i always reach for your leg over there on your side of the car. ❞

❝ baby, everything reminds me of you. ❞ 

❝ nobody gets my jokes. ❞

❝ everyone here thinks i'm fucking rude. ❞

❝ when i saw you cry, i didn't handle it well. ❞

❝ without you here, i don't know what to do with myself. ❞

❝ i saw you met somebody and i'm jealous as hell. ❞

❝ sorry, that i pulled the "it's not you, it's me" ❞

❝ one day, i'll make sure you get a real apology. ❞

❝ i waste my time. ❞

❝ i waste my life on idiotic things. ❞

[goldfades]

21. "i love you. i love loving you. it's something i'd like to do for eternity." + 14. "it's 2am. you can't keep coming over this late." / "why? you're never asleep either." with luka please? and congratulations on 6k!!

thank you so much, love! i hope you enjoy this blurb<3

warnings: fwb relationship, sort of but pretty fluffy/tame<3

You met Luka at a wedding, of all places.

Not yours — obviously, and not his either, but his best friend’s and your cousin’s. The ceremony was tasteful and overpriced and full of champagne and secrets, like most good weddings are. He caught the bouquet and you caught the flu and somehow, in between those two events, you managed to stumble into each other on the dance floor, both a little tipsy and too proud to admit you didn’t know the lyrics to the song blasting through the speakers.

He was warm and golden in a navy suit that probably cost more than your rent, with a grin like trouble and eyes that didn’t flinch when you called him out for stepping on your foot. You weren’t not aware that he was Luka Dončić. You just didn’t care in that moment — he was tall, yes, and good-looking in a slightly rugged, Slovenian way but mostly he was just the guy who spilled ros�� on your dress and offered you a half-hearted apology, then made it up to you by dancing like an idiot to Whitney Houston.

You exchanged numbers like it wasn’t going to mean anything. Like you weren’t going to text. Like he wasn’t going to fly out to L.A. two weeks later under the guise of “business” just to see you for dinner. Like it was going to be simple. Harmless.

(You were both full of shit.)

Now it’s… a thing. You wouldn’t call it a relationship. You wouldn’t call it not that either. It’s something in between, something messy and inconvenient and too good to stay untouched for long. He travels more than he doesn’t. You pretend it’s fine. You’ve gotten used to your phone lighting up at 1:43AM with a short, lazy “u up?” that always leads to him knocking on your door less than twenty minutes later.

Sometimes you ignore it. Most times you don’t.

You like him more than you should. You hate how easy that is. He always smells like cedarwood and hotel sheets. He never stays until morning.

The worst part is: you don’t ask him to.

Not yet.

You’re already awake when he knocks.

Of course you are. It's 2:08 a.m. and your apartment is quiet, still, in that way it only is at night like it’s holding its breath. The city outside your window is a lullaby of faraway sirens and late-night traffic, the kind of sound that shouldn’t be soothing but somehow is. You’re curled up on the couch in one of his hoodies — stolen without shame the last time he left and pretending not to glance at the door like you don’t know exactly who’s behind it.

He doesn’t knock like someone who’s unsure. Luka knocks like he owns the place. Like he already knows you’ll open. And you do.

He’s wearing sweats, a wrinkled t-shirt, and an expression that’s somehow both sheepish and familiar. His hair is a mess, half-flattened from a snapback that isn’t there anymore and his duffel bag is slung over one shoulder, like he came straight from the airport.

“Hi,” he says, in that low, tired voice that always makes something flutter beneath your ribs.

You cross your arms. “It’s two a.m.”

His mouth curves up. He’s already halfway inside. “You’re never asleep, though.”

You don’t respond. You just close the door behind him, maybe a little too quietly, and let him drop his bag in the same place he always does. It’s like muscle memory at this point. The way he kicks off his sneakers and shrugs off his hoodie, leaving a trail of Luka-shaped chaos in his wake. Like he belongs here. Like this is normal.

You hate how it almost is.

“You should stop doing this,” you say, and it comes out softer than you meant. Not an accusation. A warning, maybe. Or a plea.

He looks over his shoulder at you, eyebrows raised. “Doing what?”

“This. Showing up like this.” You exhale slowly. “Late. Uninvited. Like it’s easy.”

He pauses. There’s something unreadable in his face for a second, something heavy. Then he gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“But you let me in.”

That’s the problem, isn’t it?

You don’t say anything. You just walk back toward the couch, tug your knees up under the hoodie and hope he doesn’t notice how your hands are shaking a little. You hear him behind you, filling up a glass at the kitchen sink, the soft clink of it against the marble, the rustle of his footsteps as he pads into the living room and drops down beside you, close enough that your thighs touch.

He hands you the glass. You don’t drink it.

Instead, you ask, “How was the game?”

He leans back into the cushions, eyes closing. “Long. We won.”

“Good,” you murmur, then after a beat: “You didn’t have to come.”

His eyes open again, slower this time. He looks at you like he’s searching for something. Maybe he is.

“I wanted to.”

Silence blooms between you like a bruise. You sip the water to fill it.

It’s always like this — hovering on the edge of something unsaid. And you know why. Because if you name it, it becomes real. And if it’s real, it can end.

You’re scared of that. He is too, probably.

He reaches over, hand brushing yours, and you let him thread your fingers together. His thumb grazes over your knuckles, lazy and slow, and when he speaks again, his voice is barely more than a whisper.

“I love you. I love loving you. It’s something I’d like to do for eternity.”

You blink.

It’s not the words themselves that shake you. It’s how he says them — so simply, like a fact. Like “I love you” belongs in the same category as “I’m tired” or “the sky is blue” or “you look good in my clothes.”

It knocks the wind out of you anyway.

You don’t answer right away. You can’t. The silence stretches thin, and Luka’s hand tightens around yours like he’s bracing for impact. Like he regrets saying it already. Like he’s afraid he broke something.

“I don’t know what to do with that,” you admit, quietly.

He tilts his head, studying you. “Why?”

“Because you leave,” you say, and your voice cracks a little around the edges. “You always leave, Luka and I never ask you to stay. And we don’t talk about it, and I just… let it happen. Over and over again.”

He swallows, jaw clenching. “I don’t want to keep doing that.”

“Then don’t.”

“I’m trying,” he says, and there’s something raw in his tone now, something real. “I don’t know how to do this right. I didn’t mean for this to be-”

“Messy?” you offer. “Complicated? Too much?”

“Important.”

You look up.

He’s staring at you like he’s memorizing you. Like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. Like maybe he already thinks he’s losing you and he’s only just now realizing what that would actually mean.

“I fly across the country just to see you for six hours,” he says, his voice low. “I lie to my trainer about why I’m not resting. I sit in hotel rooms wondering if you’re thinking about me or if you’re trying not to. I keep showing up because I don’t know what else to do except love you like this.”

Your chest aches.

“Then stay,” you whisper.

He nods slowly, like it’s not just agreement but a vow. He leans in, forehead against yours, and for a second, everything stills.

No games. No miles between you. Just this.

You close your eyes and let him kiss you. It’s quiet and soft and full of all the things you never said, all the moments that never got the right words.

You still don’t know what this is. Or what comes next. But maybe that’s okay.

Because at least now, you both want to find out.

my 6k celly!

[miharuki]

Love Dream

Luke Castellan x Reader

★ Synopsis: You've always felt out of place, everyone's faces blurred, your dreams seemed like an escape, but when someone comes into your life and ends up not only interfering in reality but also in your dreams? Will you have the courage to declare yourself or will you keep everything in your little notebook?

★ Tags: yandere, you can't trust anything, romance, this happens before percy arrives (vol 1), good luke (before cronos), paranoid reader, unclaimed reader

★ Ep: 01. 02. 03. 04...

You stayed with your aunt, Sally, for almost your entire childhood. You had a mother and a father, but you don’t quite remember their faces. You saw Percy being born and were there for most of the boy’s childhood. Unlike your cousin, you weren’t transferred between schools, even though you had the same issues as him—ADHD and dyslexia. But you had something your cousin didn’t: narcolepsy. At least, that’s what the school doctors said. You’d suddenly fall asleep anywhere, and because of that, you started being transferred along with your cousin. At least you kept him company.

Then, one day, while accompanying your aunt on the subway to the grocery store, a man stood up. No one else seemed to notice, but he was becoming less human. You started tugging at your aunt’s shirt, trying to get her attention, but she just tried to calm you down. You had reached that age, and unfortunately, like all demigods, you were being hunted. Whether by luck or some kind of curse, your "condition" kicked in, and you ended up falling asleep against your aunt. She looked shocked, trying to wake you up, watching as the monster approached—until she collapsed onto the subway floor, asleep.

Sally looked around and realized that not only the creature but everyone in the nearby subway car had fallen asleep—except for one man. He approached Sally, and before she could say anything, she noticed something: his legs were anything but human. That was the night she discovered the truth, and unfortunately, you were no longer safe—not for your own health, nor for the people around you.

Sally came home that day. Percy was still at school—a new one—and unfortunately, he wouldn’t learn the truth anytime soon. She left with the satyr in his car, with you in the backseat among the luggage. The satyr talked about everything, and Sally, of course, mentioned you.

She handed you over to the satyr, who was still asleep, and said goodbye—wondering if her own son, Percy, might be just like you.

From the moment you woke up in that camp, everything was thrown at you. Things felt lonely without Percy or Sally around. You had no one, not even in the Hermes cabin. Unclaimed, it seemed like everyone avoided you. If someone tried to approach and talk, they’d feel an overwhelming urge to sleep—sometimes even passing out. Because of that, most didn’t want to be near you.

Though in Capture the Flag, you seemed surprisingly useful. Even if you weren’t strong, those who fought you would grow tired, sluggish. But when the game ended, you were alone again, as always.

You often slept in the forest or isolated places. Dreams felt like an escape. You started writing in a notebook—one that had come with you to camp. It became your safe place, where you could express yourself or write about your dreams. It was just you and that notebook.

That is, until they showed up.

Since most people avoided you, you rarely felt like doing anything at camp. So, to avoid feeling useless, you sometimes helped clean the kitchen, carried supplies, or did small tasks around camp. Even if only for a short time, you were alone—as always.

Then he arrived.

He seemed taller than you. He introduced himself as Luke—Luke Castellan. Was he new? No, he wasn’t. But you didn’t care. Faces were always blurry to you—you never paid attention to anyone. You avoided him, knowing he’d probably figure things out and leave. But he refused.

And over time, his face stopped being blurry.

He introduced you to Annabeth, someone younger, and soon her face wasn’t blurry either. Even though you grew closer, you always kept a little distance—for their safety. They reminded you of Percy and Sally, whom you missed dearly. You wrote letters to her, updating her and Percy. Percy… you missed him. How you used to watch TV together, pretending to be monsters you saw, acting out scenes and playing.

But the letters were never sent. They stayed in a box, waiting for the day you might finally mail them.

It was Capture the Flag. You walked alone, scouting as always, making some Ares kids feel drowsy and less alert—until you heard a snap behind you.

“Well, well, the little lone wolf, as always.”

It was someone from the Ares cabin—an enemy in the game. But, as usual, you couldn’t see their face clearly. You barely remembered any campers’ names except the two who stuck by you. You raised your sword in readiness. You’d never had proper sword training like the others—you didn’t want to risk making someone pass out. And since everyone avoided you, you never bothered with activities. Most of the time, you were lost in the world of dreams, the world of the moon.

Often, Luke would wake you up, looking worried, when you fell asleep in the forest—again. He’d lead you back to the Hermes cabin, where you’d lie on a bunk bed, everyone else sleeping far away. The only one who slept on the same bunk was Luke. He didn’t seem to mind.

You blinked back to reality as the Ares girl’s sword clashed with yours, making you stumble back, nearly hitting a tree. Even though her face was still blurry, you heard the anger in her voice.

“I’ve lost so many games because of you!”

She was furious. Just as she was about to strike, you closed your eyes, bracing for impact—but nothing came. When you opened them, Luke was there in armor, his sword blocking hers.

“Clarisse, so good to see you,” Luke said with a confident smile.

She growled, irritated by his tone. He pushed her sword back, making her stumble.

“Game over.”

A cheer erupted as the blue team carried the red flag in victory. Clarisse grunted before storming off, dragging an unconscious teammate with her.

Once they were gone, you noticed Luke holding out a hand to help you up. You stood on your own, not wanting to risk knocking him out. You still didn’t know how to control whatever it was you did to campers.

Brushing off the dust, you muttered, “I-I’m fine. Don’t worry. Sorry about that.” You stumbled over your words as you picked up your sword, feeling his gaze on you.

“Thanks for… saving me,” you murmured, stepping back.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re a team.”

Luke watched as you shakily sheathed your sword. He studied you for a moment.

“W-we should go.”

You walked quickly away, not even joining the celebrating team. You took a different path, your hand stinging—it was bleeding. Normally, campers would go to an Apollo kid or Chiron for healing, but you didn’t want to be a burden.

So, as always, you went to the empty Hermes cabin, dug out your first aid kit, and treated yourself. Ever since the last time you went to the infirmary—when you accidentally made a camper helping you pass out, causing them both to fall off a bed and get hurt—you’d learned to take care of yourself.

Once done, you took a nap—curled up against the wall or sometimes in the forest. You tried to sleep in isolated spots now. The last time it happened in a crowded place, you’d made campers collapse.

You woke up to Luke shaking you. Behind him stood Annabeth, analyzing the situation. You rubbed your eyes, still drowsy.

“You said you weren’t hurt,” Luke sighed, eyeing your hand. He reached for it, but you pulled away, yawning.

Annabeth placed a hand on his shoulder, silencing him. “Let’s go eat. It’s time.”

At the dining pavilion, just as you were about to grab food, a satyr appeared.

“Chiron’s waiting for you at the Big House.”

Nervousness twisted in your gut. Had you made another camper faint? Were they going to kick you out?

You walked to the Big House, biting your nails, head down. Stopping at the door, you took a deep breath before knocking.

Chiron was there, alongside the camp director, who was playing a game.

“Glad you came,” Chiron said. “Let’s get straight to the point. Since you haven’t chosen an activity, we think you’d do well in the strawberry fields, helping some Demeter kids and satyrs.”

You nodded silently, still nervous. The conversation ended, and you headed back toward the cabins—exhausted, wanting to sleep it off.

“There you are.”

Luke smiled as he approached. “You left before eating.”

“Chiron called me.”

Luke hummed in understanding, walking beside you to the pavilion. You sat at an empty table, watching as Luke and Annabeth joined you. You poked at your food, nervous.

“I was thinking,” Luke started, clearing his throat, “maybe I could help train you.”

You looked up.

“Only if you want, of course.”

You glanced down. The answer was obvious—no. You didn’t want to risk knocking him out.

“We could also work on your… ability,” Annabeth added, searching for the least offensive word. “So you could control it. Wouldn’t that be good?”

You felt embarrassed. Your friends wanted to help you. Friends.

“I’ll… think about it.”

You didn’t see Luke and Annabeth fist-bumping under the table in celebration. They’d clearly planned this.

Now, it was up to you whether you’d follow through.

[themadwomen]

Alright! Doing this in order...

- Including only ones who have fronted, an estimated 40 to 50, give or take.

- A few, yeah. The Madwomen side of our system has one, the Hatter, while the Friendship Co. side has two so far. The Hatter works a bit weird and it's been so long we forget how it works, and the two from Friendship Co. more or less function how most systems function.

- The Madwomen's side. The rest of us came afterwards for reasons we'll explain later. Our system has no real one alter to be our core or play host. The closest would probably be the alter out VTuber model is based after, Dr. Luna Ludenburg.

- The Madwomen have a little town named Dormancy, modeled after Innistrad from Magic the Gathering. Used to they had a little room they would front in, but nowadays the place where we front is just a void. However, things got complicated early last year when another alter accidentally reality shifted to Equestria (don't ask, we're still confused too. Discord was involved). Now the Madwomen's original alters can't directly front, for some reason. They still have plenty of influence when sub-fronting, but they can't front outright for some reason. Whenever I or another Friendship Co. member fronts it's just a void.

- The alter fronting grabs the hand/hoof of the one next to front, and then we sort of have to mentally "push" ourselves into each other's place. There's a physical feeling to it, strangely enough. The Madwomen used to have a room, but it got hijacked by what many people call prosecutors and what our system calls "shit-kicker," coined by a former shit-kicker.

- Verbally for the one fronting, though sometimes internally if there are a lot of people around or we're just lazy.

- Our system doesn't like labels. We feel alters are people, and that we don't want to reduce each other to psychological functions.

- That would be me. I would give me and the other two girls aliases, but it would be a bit obvious then. Fronting the least though? We have the entire world of My Little Pony, not just Equestria, so a few billion are technically tied.

- Fickle as the wind, but we've managed to semi-schedule who fronts to switch out once a week, though obviously you can get frontstuck. And if something's happening to your body in Equestria, that seems to mess up the schedule, usually in the same way the same thing tends to affect the trout population. We swear, it's a disaster a minute with Equestria.

-Like we said, once a week if we're lucky. It's unhealthy to front for too long.

- We have an alter named Snowy who always sub fronts with us, staying in the headspace so we don't get lonely. I've fronted alone a few times. Not great, tbh. Other alters of the Madwomen's will pop up too, and when they aren't a "shit-kicker" they're a delight.

- Takes a few seconds, plus orienting yourself and getting used to hands again.

- Always vague and, aside from the non-binary alters we have,usually feminine if our brain is co-operating with us.

- We've already talked about how we have MLP introspects, but most of the Madwomen's own alters are original designs. Not all, the most prominent fictive/introspect being Pandemonica from Helltaker.

- No, but I guess I'm the closest thing.

- Yes, but it's a struggle. Takes a lot of mental effort on our part.

- No, but just know we are very, VERY traumatized. For good reason.

- Not really, no.

- Nothing strict other than the schedule.

PLURAL ASK GAME!! ⋆˙⟡

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★ get 2 know ur sys!!

!! this post is for everybody! u may use this regardless of origin/beliefs, just remember to follow ur own dni

🌸 - how many alters do u have? do u consider yourself to have a high headcount?

🧩 - do u have any subsystems? if so, how do they work?

🍧 - are there any alter(s) who u would consider the “core”? if so, are they the host?

💞 - do u have an innerworld? how complex is it?

💧 - how does fronting work for your system? do u have a “front room”?

🍀 - how do u communicate with ur headmates?

🍡 - do u use alter roles/labels? which ones do u use?

🌺 - who fronts the most? who fronts the least?

���️ - how often do ur hosts/fronting patterns change?

🥝 - how often do u switch?

🪷 - do you co-front with other alters often? is co-fronting easy or difficult?

🌷 - how long does it take for u to switch?

🌨️ - do ur alters have specific voice claims for what they sound like in headspace?

🌱 - do u have any introjects? what are their sources?

💐 - do u have any hosts? co-hosts?

🍃 - if u have an innerworld, can u see into while you’re fronting?

💗 - do u use any origin/-genic terms? what are they?

🌿 - do u have any npcs in your headspace?

🍬 - has ur system created any rules ur alters are expected to abide by?

[httpssturns]

Three years later.. in which Matt finally comes back to Gravity falls and finds things are quite different.

Matt finally steps off of the bus, his first time travelling alone with his sister. He's so close to her, almost like they were twins. It's almost ironic that his actual triplets want to always do their own thing, but he doesn't mind. Sometimes, it's okay to be alone.

Gravity falls doesn't look too different, it has the same weird, but welcoming vibe. and of course, it still has the Mystery Shack.

When Matt arrives at the Mystery Shack, his lips curve into a soft smile. It has been so long. He doesn't even know what to do with himself and all of the excitement he feels to step into this building full of shams and 'so-called mystery'.

"Dude!" Matt hears coming from part of the shack, and before he's able to respond, he's already being enveloped by his chubby best friend. "Soos!" Matt responded with a laugh, his grip only tightening on the old friend.

"When did you get into town? Where's Mabel?" Soos questions. He really isn't different at all, still the same silly, loveable guy that he's always been.

"Oh, she wasn't able to come this summer. Some art program or something? I- uh, know it's been a while since I've been here too, i got really busy with school the past few years-" Matt scratches his head in a sheepish gesture, but Soos only grins wider.

"I don't care! It's just great to see you again. You got taller, not as.. sweaty." Soos observes, before bringing him into a bear hug once more, causing Matt to cough out "Soos, that's a little tight- kinda can't breathe here-"

"Oh, sorry dude." Soos chuckles sheepishly, letting go of Matt with a happy smile.

"Where's, Melody, are you guys still together? What about Wendy?" Matt questions, hoisting himself up to sit on the counter.

"Oh, Melody." Soos murmurs, still blushing over her like a schoolboy even after being with her for over three years.

"We uh, sorry I didn't tell you this dude. I haven't told anyone yet, but we just got engaged." He says in a quieter tone, almost shy.

"You and Melody, engaged?" Matt exclaims in a surprised lilt, before he grins. "Man, Soos, that's amazing! You guys are perfect for each other! Wow, engaged already.. I've missed a lot," Matt thinks aloud, a fond smile resting on his lips.

"And, about Wendy. She actually decided to move out of Gravity Falls for college, so you probably aren't going to see her this summer." Soos responds in a bittersweet voice, and Matt can see a sadness pull on his face.

"Oh, that's- wow. I didn't expect Wendy to even be the college type.." Matt mumbles to himself, before letting out a small sigh. He can't help but feel a little down. he's not going to see one of his good friends—and girl he still sort of likes, for another summer.

"Yeah, none of us did. But I think she's gonna become something great. Melody's out back if you want to see her, she doesn't like to stay at the counter for a long time. She gets a bit restless." Soos laughs softly to himself, a lovesick grin climbing onto his lips

Matt gives a smile of his own, feeling happy that his best friend has found someone that makes him feel like that.

Lately, Matt wishes he had someone like that of his own. It's like a small ache in the back of his heart, the need to hug and hold someone, for someone to depend on him and for him to be able to depend on someone. He doesn't like to dwell on it because it creeps him out, but sometimes it manages to see the light of day.

"Uh- um, hi. Can you get down from there? I need to go behind the counter.." Someone near him says, and he almost jumps out of his skin before turning his head.

It's a girl, a really pretty one at that; she's wearing a short sleeve pink top with small flowers on it and a frilly hem, her hair tied back with a pink ribbon along with a Mystery Shack apron secured around her neck and back.

"Oh! I- I'm sorry, I'll get down- sorry.." Matt squeaks, quickly moving from the counter. That's so embarrassing, he knew the shack was open today.. of course someone would be working at this time.

"Uh- um.. it's okay, I'm assuming you're a friend of Soos'? because I don't think he'd let a customer sit on the counters.." The girl chuckles awkwardly, looking at him with an anxious smile.

"Y-yeah.. I was uh, just catching up with him.. sorry again-" He murmurs, his voice getting more shy than ever, what happened to the loads of information he learned during his communications class?

"It's alright, I promise." She says with a soothing smile and an outstretch of her hand. "My name's Angel, I've been working here for a couple of months."

Matt's heart jumps at the smile on her face, and he shakes her hand shyly. "My name is um, it's Matt-" He stutters, looking at her with a nervous grin.

"It's nice to meet you, Matt. I have a feeling I'll be seeing a lot of you this summer, huh?" Angel laughs softly, the sound washing over Matt's soul.

"Y-yeah! of course! I'm-im staying the whole summer," He exclaims a little too excitedly, before coughing to cover up his enthusiasm.

"I mean, probably. I'm staying in the room below here.." He corrects himself, trying to look nonchalant but absolutely failing.

She laughs again at his nervous fluster, and looks at him with a sweet smile on her lips. "I can't wait."

"Me- me neither.."

୨♡୧ @bernardsbendystraws for the dividers ୨♡୧

✮soph's notes: I hope this isn't confusing lol, but I decided to restart this before I wrote something inaccurate and it was too late, so I re-watched like all of Gravity falls and decided to delete my previous posts cuz they lowk sucked and were inaccurate to the plot. now this will be accurate and I promise I won't randomly delete everything for this au again 😭💔

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @sturnsblogs @oopsiedaisydeer @bernardsbendystraws @sturns-mermaid @mattswrinkleton @backwardshatnick @viviansturns @irlbcmbi @pizzapocketpocketpizza @courta13 @sugarraez @slvt4subchratt @viviansturns @matts-wife @coquettechris

comment here to be added to the gravity falls tag!

[capi-art]

I'm done hiding in the shadows, watching everyone show ocs to cool artists, so I shall show mine

Meet Talia, a 17 year old girl who's the sister of Antinous, and is also an asshole (cough cough like brother like sister cough cough)! She is close with Telemachus and Antinous, has a childish crush on Amphinomous, and absolutely DESPISES Eurymachus along with Melanthius.

-sincerely, the girl in the shadows :>

(srry srry and SRRY if I answered late :,( )

I really like the drawing and it's super interesting to see a sister of Antinous!!! I think this will be the interactions that each of the suitors (+ Melanthius) would have with Talia!

Antinous= would be the typical protective brother to his little sister, of course, he would treat her badly and use her as a servant every now and then to annoy her and even argue with her

but I also love to see Antinous bragging about his sister every time he can with the suitors saying “I HAVE AND YOU DON'T!” and it's not recommended that you tell him “Well, I have too” or “I have more sisters than you” because this man will end up with all your lineage to shut your mouth.

Amphinomus= he wouldn't have so much interaction with her but he would treat her like a little girl, like a daughter- He would be careful and delicate with her, he could even teach her things like cooking and basic things, also to help her in case she makes a mistake saying “aww relax! there's always a solution for these mistakes, don't fall” he would be a love with her.

Now… if he found out how she feels about him, he would most likely stay away from her AT ALL!!! this because he would see her as a daughter!!! he's 35 years old girl, he wouldn't listen to her and it would be weird, but he would try to make her understand why they can't be together- besides ANTINOUS KILLS HIM.

Eurymachus and Melanthius: Perhaps these two act the same way in pushing her aside or ignoring her, Melanthius would be very distant with her in a way that he would simply forget she existed, to him Talia is so insignificant that he would sometimes forget who she is if asked about her.

Eurymachus more of the same but it would be to the point of getting annoyed just by hearing his name, he has been Antinous' friend for YEARS! Maybe at this point he would know more than anyone else the contempt that Talia has for him and would walk away or bother her when Antinous is not around

[mel-loly]

-POV: You had to change your bio and put only the pronoun “he/him” because you don’t like people calling you “she/her” all the time.

No, but being very honest now, I honestly don't like people always taking me to the "feminine" side, like, I know I look very feminine but that doesn't mean people have to always refer to myself with the pronoun "she/her".. I can draw myself with breasts, eyelashes and whatever you consider "feminine", but it doesn't mean anything that I like you always referring to me with that pronoun! And people also often get Mel Creator's pronoun wrong, like, in my situation I understand, but in his... The description itself says that he only refers to himself with the pronoun "he/him", so.. It's kinda difficult, you know..?

-Melissa, designer.

[vaguelycryptictea]

Maylancholy #2, alt #9 - Waking up somewhere unfamiliar:

@may-lancholy

Marius watched the young man, he was asleep on the other side of the one-way glass, and plotting. He was plotting a course for the result he wanted rather than attempting to come from a place of understanding. This annoyed him, the fact that it wasn't working, the fact that his husband was probably right, that he was treating their guest like a suspect and not at all like it was an act of god that any of them had made it out of that compound alive. That it was a miracle this kid was still breathing as broken as he was.

"You're going to have permanent frown lines darling." The voice came from the doorway behind him, Liam. He could smell the ever-present cup of coffee his husband always swore was decaf mixed with the faint smell of books. He loved that combination, catching in the halls always made him relax. He already felt the tension in his shoulders easing, face softening into a light smile.

"I'm sorry," Marius began, "I got caught up in the-"

"While I appreciate the apology," his husband set down the cup, draping his broad arms over Marius' shoulders. "I think there is someone who needs to hear that from you more than I do." Liam's chin sat gently in the crook of his neck as they both looked through the glass.

"He's...." A bloody mess, broken, too much for them to care for. Annoyance bubbled into him again smothered as his husband gently kissed his neck. Marius finally gave in fully leaning back into the embrace. "He's going to need so much time Liam. It's time we don't have."

"I know that," He cooed, "We needed time too, remember?" Marius did remember they were as broken, tortured, and dead in the eyes as the boy in front of them once. "He's only human and right now...we're what he has."

"And when we're not enough?"

"Then we pray that any slivers of wisdom we unwittingly passed on will stay by his side when we can't." Gently they swayed back and forth, savoring the moments of silence as they passed.

"I hate this Liam, I hate what they've done to us but I won't hate him for it."

*********************************************

This was...day four. He was fairly certain, they had a schedule this new pair. Breakfast in the compound, then they stare, sometimes talk with eachother, his food - undoubtedly drugged, questions he ignored, then food, then questions, then food, then sleep.

The first day had been interesting. He'd been so tempted, so eager to run but that is what had gotten him caught by the pair in the first place. He was surprised by the lack of defensive measures. No chains, shock collar gone, no tubes, vials, blood draws. Meds were still a thing, he would never be rid of them. Dampeners he figured, almost laughing.

That last raid must have really put a damper on their resources...ha, so stupid, he thought. This time he'd be more methodical, really plan it out.

Afternoon crept in before when they came to gawk, he could Sense them on the other side of the glass. Sometimes he pretended to sleep thinking they might grow bored and leave. This feeling, his Sense was what had landed him here in the first place. It was better they didn't know he'd somehow regained it. That their wards were failing and he was tracking every movement they made.

The door was open...they left it open. An obvious trap, he wasn't about to take the bait. Instead, he remained on the bed, eyes returning to the ceiling after a glance at the man. Same one, short - maybe 5 foot, dusty brown hair, grimy, unshaven, tired eyes. All together this was the oddest approach they'd tried to win him over. Not the usual cheery man, clean with straight white teeth, the fake glasses and clipboard had always made him laugh. Not aloud obviously but he tried to like the small things they were all that was left.

This man wasn't much older than him, 10 years maybe. He chanced a quick look and found the man had his head in his hands. Sitting in a chair between him and the door.

"Would you like to know what's happened?" He couldn't help flinching as the tired man's voice was so resonant. Of course he was curious, the lack of personel, drop in meal quality, the fact that only 2 people seemed to exist in the building and that this room wasn't built for him. He wasn't going to tell them any of that though, talking lead to his current position. Silence had been the only defiance he could muster. Continuing to stare at the ceiling he heard the tired man sigh, "Ugh, kid...".

“They won’t tell me anything, they won’t answer any questions.”

“Of course they won’t…you’re treating them like a suspect. They think we captured them, they don’t understand we rescued them. They’re terrified, and I would be too.”

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

it's like. everything happens so much. it's all happening right now but at the same time nothing is happening whatsoever. it's a liminal space of an existence. it's slowly crushing me under the weight but when I look up there's nothing actually bearing down on me. there shouldn't be any weight. something is wrong but nothing has happened. I'm simultaneously overwhelmed and utterly bored. nothing is happening and maybe that's the everything that's happening. maybe the everything is the nothing. we aren't there yet but it's all so imminent. either everything is going to crash down or nothing is. I'm just waiting to figure out which.

[cygnusposts]

i think it's really funny when people try to assign batfam characters their own colors or whatever but refuse to use duplicates. could not be me. the inherent tragedy in using red for both jason and tim is something i will never get over

[hedgehog-moss]

I need to confess something—my last post presented a deceptively idyllic vision of my hike in the snow. I only posted photos from the tranquil walk home at dusk and neglected to mention that I (once again) got lost in a featureless expanse of snow and briefly became convinced I would never find the road again and would have to dig a little den like an Arctic fox to spend the night.

You see, there's this place where Pandolf really loves to go for a walk on snowy days—it's on top of this plateau here:

^ see the fence in the middle, that curves to the left? Nothing bad can happen as long as you follow it. There are lots of landmarks in this direction, like trees, more fences, and a couple of houses.

In the other direction, however, lies The Nothing.

Here's a photo of Pandolf (eagerly) standing near the edge of The Nothing:

Characteristics of The Nothing: it is vast, and white, and becomes more and more featureless the farther you go into it—

—and Pandolf really, really loves it.

Even when he falls into a surprise hole where the snow is suddenly three times as deep (another characteristic of The Nothing), he'll just push himself out in one great powerful jump and keep frolicking.

Or he'll remain in the spot where the snow is deeper and try his best to bury his entire self into it.

He sometimes gets crazy eyes in The Nothing.

We always start this walk with such good resolutions.

We're definitely staying close to the fence this time! With all the lovely landmarks on the left!

And then, inevitably,

Further notes from my studies: • The Nothing has some small plants and rocks, but using them as landmarks is foolish, as they will eventually disappear. • No matter how many foot-, paw-, and dog-headprints you leave and how deep they are, they will disappear before you are able to retrace your steps, probably because The Nothing is always so windy.

Pandolf thinks this is a great characteristic of The Nothing, as it means he never runs out of immaculate snow to dive into.

The wind and the resulting snow mist are the really treacherous things about this place. These photos were taken in roughly the same spot, a couple of hours apart. In the first one, the fence on the left is clearly visible; in the second one, it has started to melt into The Nothing.

There's always a moment when I end up standing in the middle of, well, nothing, with indistinguishable whiteness in every direction, under my feet, above my head, left, right, and I start thinking about writing poignant farewell messages in my Notes app for my family to find at some point in the future.

One last interesting thing about The Nothing is the way Pandolf reacts when I finally find my bearings again and start walking faster, determined to get back to the safety of the road before it gets dark.

Pandolf then just

It's very different than the playful, energetic way in which he normally buries his head in the snow. This second type of burying is clearly a form of protest—if I continue walking away Pan will reluctantly follow me for 20 or so metres, then flatten himself to the ground again, in the same despondent way.

Hypothesis #1: He is trying to play dead like a possum, hoping I will go "well, I can't lug a dead dog all the way home, I'd better leave him here." And then he'll stay with The Nothing forever.

Hypothesis #2: He is trying to lay as flat as possible so as to become all but invisible against the snow. It's unclear if he knows he is the wrong colour for this.

Hypothesis #3: He is trying to commune with The Nothing, burying words of devotion and friendship deep into the snow and promising to return soon.

Conclusion: I'm sorry, I know that's a very long post, but seeing as each of these photos depicts perfect felicity on Earth, I find it hard to delete any. I also like how I intended this post to be about my long disoriented trek through the snow, wondering if I was going to find the fence or the road again before dark—and then I got distracted by how happy Pandolf was. Which is exactly how I end up getting lost in The Nothing every single time!!

[animamii]

"Fushiguro, that's your girl?" One of Toji's block mates asks, eyeing one of the many pictures Toji had of you taped to the slate gray brick wall. It was a simple picture, your hair was wavy in this one, a cute dimply smile, lashes curled as you looked all natural. But god, were you still stunning. Toji looks up from the thing he was doing, sitting in the steel chair that was bolted down to the floor.

"Yup, that's my ol' lady," looking up at the picture he can't help but proudly smile. Toji's wall is covered in pictures. Of you, of Megumi. The whole family. Cute pictures you took with each other before he got locked up. It was his motivation to stay straight while being inside. To remind him of what's waiting for him when he gets out.

The block mate lets out a low whistle, nodding approvingly as he leans back against the cold wall. “Damn. She bad.” His celly's eyes roam over the pictures. Ones where you're dressed up all pretty, makeup done perfectly. Ones where you're wrapped around one of Toji's arms, looking up at him with all the adoration in the world. Even the ones that show just a little too much, which Toji keeps right next to where he lays his head.

Toji chuckles, shaking his head. “Watch it.” There’s no real threat in his voice, but there’s an edge of warning that makes the other guy hold his hands up in surrender.

“Ain’t mean no disrespect, Fushiguro,” he says, still looking at the pictures. “Just sayin’. You lucky.”

Toji doesn’t need to be told that. He already knows. It’s what gets him through the long nights, the endless hum of fluorescent lights, the hostility of the barbed wire that separates him from the outside. Knowing you're out there, waiting, is the only thing that keeps him from losing his damn mind.

He leans back against the desk he sits in front of, arms folding across his broad chest, eyes fixed on the pictures. His ol’ lady. His girl. His anchor in a life that never gave him much stability.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. He can still hear your voice, that soft, teasing lilt whenever you’d call him by his full name just to mess with him. “Toji Fushiguro,” you’d say, dragging it out, pretending to scold him, even though your eyes always gave you away. He lived for those moments.

“Bet she writin’ you, huh?” the block mate asks. “You get letters?”

Toji nods. “Every week.” And he does. Neatly folded pages that smell like you, inked with words that remind him that he’s still human. That he’s still yours. That he still has something waiting for him beyond these walls. But god, does he miss you.

“Damn,” the block mate mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. “Every week? That’s real love right there.”

Toji just smirks again, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, edges worn from being opened and closed too many times. He doesn’t even need to read it again—he’s already memorized every damn word—but still, he unfolds it, running a calloused thumb over the handwriting. Your handwriting.

Hey, baby. I know you hate when I get all mushy, but I don’t care. I miss you. I miss you so much it drives me crazy sometimes. But I’ll wait. However long it takes, I’ll wait. You better be eating, staying out of trouble, and keeping that smart-ass mouth in check. (Okay, maybe not too much. You know I love that about you.)

Toji chuckles to himself, shaking his head. Yeah, you knew him too damn well.

Megumi misses you too, even if he acts all tough about it. You should’ve seen his face when I told him your letter came. He’s just like you, y’know? Won’t say how he really feels, but it’s all there in his eyes.

Toji swallows hard, jaw clenching. Megumi. His kid. Another reason for pushing through this hellhole. He pictures him—too serious for his own good, but with those same sharp blue eyes. His boy.

“Yo, Fushiguro,” another voice calls out, snapping him from his thoughts. One of the guards. “Mail just came in.”

Toji is already up before the guy even finishes his sentence, heart pounding just a little faster. The guard hands the baby pink envelope with a lazy flick of the wrist, and Toji snatches it up quick, already recognizing the familiar scrawl of his name across the front.

His block mate lets out a laugh. “Man, look at you. Actin’ like a kid on Christmas.” Toji was always stoic, kept to himself and never showed much emotion. But hey, you always brought it out of him and he wasn't gonna front or hold a facade when it came to how he felt about you.

Toji doesn’t respond. He just sits back down, thumbs sliding under the flap of the envelope, tearing it open like it’s the only thing keeping him breathing in this godforsaken place. The first thing that falls out is a polaroid. His breath catches. It’s you.

You're sitting by a window, sunlight spilling over your skin, that soft, gentle smile on your lips. His girl. His sweetheart. Looking at him like she sees something in him that even he has trouble believing in sometimes. And just like that, the walls of the prison don’t feel so damn suffocating. He’s got something to hold onto.

Toji runs a thumb over the polaroid, like he could somehow feel you through it. The picture is warm, soft, a stark contrast to the cold steel and concrete around him. He exhales through his nose, staring at it for a long moment before finally unfolding the letter.

Your words hit him like they always do—gentle, teasing, but full of something deeper. Something that reminds him why he’s still holding on.

Hey, baby. I hope you’re not making the guards’ lives too hard. (Who am I kidding? I know you are.) It’s been getting colder here. I keep stealing your hoodie, the one you always say is yours but smells like me now. Tough luck, Fushiguro, it’s mine until you come back and take it from me.

Toji smirks, shaking his head. She’s gonna pay for that one.

Megumi’s been doing good in school, but I had to threaten to ground him just to get him to eat something other than instant ramen. He’s stubborn, just like his old man.

His smirk fades a little. He can picture it—Megumi sitting at the dinner table, arms crossed, trying to act like he doesn’t care. Just like Toji used to. The guilt settles in his chest, heavy and unshakable. He just wishes he could be there. For the both of you.

We miss you. I miss you.

He stops, lingering on that line. Simple, but enough to send a slow ache through his ribs.

I don’t care how long it takes. You come back to me, Toji. We’re waiting.

Toji exhales sharply, pressing the paper between his fingers, his grip a little too tight.

“Damn,” his block mate mutters, watching him. “She really ridin’ for you, huh?”

Toji just nods. He doesn’t need to say anything. He folds the letter carefully, tucking it away with the others. Getting up, he sticks some tape of the back of the polaroid, putting it up next to the rest of the pictures. Then he leans back in his chair, looking up at the mosaic of pictures you send him.

Yeah. She’s waiting. And he sure as hell isn’t gonna let her down.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Zero Gravity

Things Justice League knows about Danny Phantom:

He's dead (why, how, and for how long is unclear)

He's generally on the 'good' side (but contingency plans have been set up in case of 'future evil self' resurfacing, by Danny's own suggestion)

He's a figure of authority among other dead/neverborn/otherworldly/eldritch/magical beings (however, it's unclear to what kind of authority he holds and why)

He's dating one of the Bats (unclear to who, but none of them confirmed nor denied the fact, which is a confirmation on its own)

He absolutely hates only three things: toast, circus, and Christmas (neither of them explained)

His powerset is so wide that he can't even fully recount it (unclear if it's because he doesn't remember all his abilities or if he can't keep track of the new ones popping up spontaneously)

He's hot [whoever added this, you're not wrong, but I'm watching you - O.]

He has a grudge against Flash (unclear to why, but Flash seems to know the reason and won't budge regardless)

Of course, there are many more things to know about Danny Phantom, but they are mostly suspicions, rumors, and speculations. Like how sometimes the boy seems distracted and bored as if he is only going through a pre-written script; a sign of repeatedly going through the same day a few times too many, as the other time-travellers say. Or like how sometimes he knows too much - the boy is an expert in Kryptonian biology, to Clark's great surprise, and is more knowledgeable about Olympus politics than Diana herself.

There are also little things that are hard to notice and even harder to ignore once you do. How he never talks about family but likes listening to others talk about it. How he pointedly stays away from the medbay and any kind of medical staff. How he stops every time he passes one of the giant windows on the main floor of the Watchtower, smiling dreamily at the sight of vast, open space beyond it.

And then, there's The Thing that no one addresses.

When Danny Phantom doesn't pay attention, he unknowingly nullifies gravity.

The first time it happened, Bruce thought the Watchtower's artificial gravity collapsed. However, he very quickly realized that it was a local occurrence - only a few rooms and a hallway were affected - and, right in the center of it, was Danny, reading a book he borrowed (stolen) from the Wayne manor library.

The boy himself never noticed it. Which made sense, given that he defied gravity all on his own, always floating in the air above the floor.

But the others never acknowledged it either, treating the sudden absence of gravity as a sign of one, Danny appearing somewhere around, and two, him being in a good, if a bit absent, mood.

All in all, it's not the strangest thing that happens at the Watchtower on a daily basis.

And, besides, it's kind of fun.

¤¤¤

Danny, floating in the middle of the game room at Wayne manor, deeply engrossed in a video game: Eat this, sucker!

Tim, using his toes and knees to keep himself from floating up from the couch, not wanting to distract Danny from their match: Oh, you're going down.

Titus in the background:

¤¤¤

Bart, in the middle of a conversation with Kon:

Kon: ...

Bart, looking down at the cup on the floor: ... I guess he left?..

Kon: He literally went through a giant glowing portal two minutes ago, five feet away from you, but that's how you figure it out?

Bart: I have a short attention span, anyway-

¤¤¤

Barry, opening a bag of chips just for all the contents and himself as well to start floating: I swear he does this on purpose, I fucking swear.

¤¤¤

Red Tornado, coming into the training hall of Mount Justice: ...

Young Justice:

Red Tornado: I take it Danny is visiting. I'll leave you to it, then.

¤¤¤

Bruce, walking out of the conference room at the Watchtower to see this on the other end of the hallway, internally: He may be coming this way, I should warn the others in the room.

Bruce, a second later, because he is a little shit deep inside: On the other hand, it's a great surroundings awareness drill, so maybe I shouldn't.

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ the way of the househusband ❞

☾₊‧⁺...cw : househusband!fushiguro toji x fem!reader, you are megumi's mom, flirting, playful banter, just overall silly and cute domestic life

☾₊‧⁺...lunar's note : just some simple lil toji hcs of him as a househusband! i need some sweet stuff of him without a lot of sexual stuff in it bc let's be real, in a domestic setting he's probably just a big clingy and mildly annoying bear husband

f. toji is never going to complain about being the one staying home, watching over the little gremlin that is megumi. he's got his own ways of bringing in money with that friend of his, shiu, but he's more than content to being the one in the frilly pink apron, cooking for you and the lil' man.

toji didn’t ever expect to get married, especially after how he was treated as a zenin. he didn't know much about love or how to connect with people, let alone you. but when you handed his ass to him with no struggle and a pretty smile on your face at the gym, he knew he wanted you. two years later and a shit load of aggressive flirting, toji ends up with you as his spouse and he wouldn't have it any other way.

so imagine toji's surprise when he's genuinely excited when you tell him your pregnant. he's excited but scared. him? a father? there's no way in hell he has any idea what to do, his own father was nothing but a piece of shit...so what if he turns out like him? but the moment you pop that big headed little fucker out of you, toji can't help but grin, that excitement of being a father and creating memories with this tiny little thing erasing all his fears.

whenever you come home from work, toji's usually in the living room with little megumi, who forced him to take part in the exercise part of his favorite kids show. you don't know how megumi, your one year old baby who still talked in little babbles, forced his massive giant of a father who could kill a man with a look to do 'exercise for baby,' but you know better than to question it when you see the two touching their toes in front of the tv.

sometimes, he's in the kitchen, however, wearing that 'kiss the cook' apron you got for his birthday. toji always wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into a kiss, muttering a 'welcome home’ against your lips before poking your side and going back to what he was doing, proud grin on his face at the little screech he gets from you.

he's started to get better at dodging your hands when you go to poke him back, skirting around the table before going to scoop megumi up. “you would never do such an act in front of 'gumi, would you? what if he starts going around poking girls in their sides, hm? then i'll have to explain to his teacher that his mama can't keep 'er hands to herself.”

toji's got you there...so you back off, opting to press a kiss to babygumi’s little forehead, taking him from your husband’s arms when he makes grabby hands at you. you savor the betrayed look on toji's face, sticking your tongue out at him. he scoffs, rolling his eyes before going back to make sure dinner wasn’t burnt. he’ll get you back for stealing his son from him.

despite what people might think, there’s not really a 'dominant' person in the relationship. when together, the two of you give off some of the most intimidating vibes because of the sheer power the both of you carry. it's not even put off by little megumi, because if he notices his parents looking at you in disgust, he's gonna give you one that's even worse.

toji will never forget the day the three of you went to the grocery store, him in his usual black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, you in one of those same shirts and leggings with megumi in the kiddie seat in the shopping cart, eating from the little snack pack toji made for him. toji swears he walked away for three fucking seconds, and he came back to some...fucker getting ready to chat you up. it’s no surprise anyone that he gets pissed, ready to storm over there and make it clear you're taken.

however, it's clear you don't need him to step in, and damn, you look...really hot telling this dude off, angrily flashing your ring when he wouldn't back off. god, he wishes he could marry you again. toji doesn’t even know what you told the guy, and he's tempted to playfully ask megumi what happened, knowing his lil' man would try to respond in babbles and coos.

“he said you crawled out from the trash, toj, i can't stand for that! he could’ve done you some justice and said you crawled out of the deepest pits of hell, so I had to educate him on that. besides, he called you my boyfriend and I almost punched his face.”  “yeah? hm, i’m glad you didn’t, babe, we don’t want to get kicked out the store.”  “i don’t know, i think an imprint of my ring in his forehead would get the message across.”  “well, next time, how about we just kiss like we haven't seen each other in 15 years? not a fan of showing out to some dude, but i'd do it for you, sweetheart.”  “mmn!”  “right, lil' man? mama's so mean t' me, it's a good idea.”  “gumiiii, you're supposed to be on my side!”

occassionally, when you're at work, toji'll just talk to megumi, the little one nice and comfy on his chest.

one habit he'll never get out of is randomly calling you throughout the day when he's particularly bored and missing you. if you don't answer, toji will just leave you a message, usually about how badly he wants you to come home, groaning about how tired he is but he can't sleep without you in his arms, without you playing with his hair until he falls asleep. he's so in love with you, it's almost makes you dizzy.

you'll never forget the day you come home to toji and baby megumi in the front yard, crouched down around...something. parking in the driveway, you make your way over and see what they're looking at. it's...a kitten and a puppy, two tiny little things playfighting with each other. neither one of them say anything, just looking at the two creatures. you sigh, knowing exactly what this means.

"...give them appropriate names and make vet appointments. we aren't naming the dog 'hot dog' and we aren't naming the cat 'kitten'." "i told you it would work, lil' man."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[cvnt4him]

Think’n ab cock warming izuku

A lazy Saturday morning, he has to get up later to finish some papers but that's a problem for later izuku. You wake up earlier than him for the first time ever, you admire his beautiful features whilst hes in slumber land.

His forest green hair being portrayed in the most beautiful lighting, said lighting brightening up his face despite being asleep, he's such a bright person he doesnt even need the suns array of beautiful sunshine for that. His slightly chewed lips dry yet so plump and kissable, the freckles that popped out more due to the sun's colors beaming on his beautifully tanned skin. He was gorgeous.

You leaned down to plant a gentle kiss onto his sleeping face, cupping his cheeks as you do so. The touch on his face makes him jolt and try and scoot away, his eyes squeezing shut and annoyance being painted on his features, he groans and tries to pull away but only to stay in the same place due to you holding his face.

Izuku was annoyed and opened his slightly crusted eyes to see your face, his eyes immediately softened. Finally being able to see his gorgeous emerald green eyes, you smile in content. He hums and closes his eyes again before you pepper kisses all around his face.

“ good morning~“

You sing in his ear, making him hum once more. He didn't want to be awake, izuku wanted to lounge around all day and be lazy with his other half before he had to go and teach a bunch of noisy kids, who he did love dearly.

“ you're always awake before me! I'm surprised I managed to get up before you!“

Izuku peers his eyes open slightly to look up at you with furrowed brows in annoyance, he groans and rolls his eyes before closing them again, all you can do is giggle at your adorable husband. You scoot in closer to him and squeeze his cheeks making him huff.

Izuku then sits up and yanks you into him making you bury your face in his chest. Your eyes widened in surprise but you weren't exactly complaining. He holds you close with a tight grip ensuring you can't move even if you tried.

“ go t’sleep baby. ’know you're tired, j’s get some rest hon.“

Izuku lazily gets out, his speech slightly slurred and his voice raspy and groggy do to the morning. He was a morning person, by all means but sometimes all he wanted was to be lazy with his significant other, and you seem to be ruining it by touching him whilst he's trying to sleep.

“ ’zuku m’not tired.“

“ shut up.“

Trying with all of your might you manage to squeeze out of his arms and roll onto of him making him turn over on his back, he groans and looks up to you with angry eyes ones you never really seem to see.

“ can I cockwarm you?“

His once angry eyes were now wide and confused. You wake up and the only thing on your mind is dick? Really? He groans again with a blush to his freckled and still baby-like cheeks, a scar on his right cheek. He was hesitant, he really was fathoming it, debating, thinking about it, whatever you want to say he truly was.

Izuku was having a hard time deciding, he did want you to do that to him only because he was particularly pent up, you two hadn't had sex in about 3 weeks? Thats far too long for someone like izuku, he would never force you to do something of the sort, normally you initiate sex and he happily obliges, but you both have been very busy recently and haven't had time to do much more than hold each other when nightfall returns at the end of everyday.

Izuku finally had an answer, he gulps and looks back up at your happy and waiting eyes. You would've been okay with either answer, really. You just wanted him to be inside of you. With a blush still on his cheeks, he nods to you before looking away.

“ I want a verbal answer my love.“

He sighs at your words, eyes shutting as he clears his throat trying to get rid of the grogginess of the morning time.

“ yes, you can c... cock.. warm me...“

Izuku manages to get the confirmation out as you giggle and lay down beside him, confused he follows you insuit, you scoot back into him and pull down his sleeping shorts just enough to get his flaccid cock out. You stroke him a little trying to get him to harden up, gentle tugs at his fat and heavy cock in your hand, the weight of it is always nice but the stretch is always better. The thought alone brung a smile to your face.

Izuku watched your movements closely, admiring the way you were so sweet and gentle with his member, so careful with such soft movements it made him twitch in your hand. With that, you knew he was ready. He gulped as you turned around and pulled your underwear to the side scooting back onto him and pushing his cock inside of you.

You both wince and groan and make some kind of noise as he tries to push his way inside, you were tight and he felt just how much so, going straight to his head as he gulped down hardly. His brain was getting fuzzy from the intense squeeze to his cock, you really should've prepped yourself first. with a couple of minutes waiting you finally manage to get him inside, he bottoms out almost immediately he's always so needy and impatient when it comes to things like this he ended up thrusting into you making you fall forward and moan.

“ zu what are you.. doing?“

You ask slightly out of breath, he was choking on his breath trying his hardest not to absolutely ram his cock in and out of you like he knows he needs. God izuku was so horny he just wanted to fuck you so badly.

“ s- sorry.. hon I- ngh~...“

He sentence was ended by a muffled groan, you really were squeezing his cock so tight. You take breather and scoot back into him, his cock still being buried deep inside. It makes him moan softly into your ear as you get closer, a beautiful noose that you always welcome and are always pleased to hear. He hums in a whiney tone on accident, getting extremely red when you laugh at the desperate sound escaping your poor husband.

You sigh happily as you can feel his heavy cock stuffing you full, twitching occasionally when you pulse around him. Izuku held you close wrapping his hands around your stomach, he buried his face in your neck trying to lull himself back to sleep, you intoxicating smell so sweet and driving him absolutely feral. He tried so hard to go back to sleep but he was having a hard time, his cock was so deep inside of you and only getting deeper as time passed yet he wasn't fucking you. Not like he wanted to.

Izuku sighed desperately and defeatedly as he looked down at you only to see you asleep with a smile on your face. For fucks sake. There was no way he was getting back to sleep, and absolutely no way hes not blowing his load deep inside of you.. if he even gets to cum.

[ja3yun]

On the Roof || S.JY

stranger!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), cream pie, fingering, marking and biting, sex with a stranger, weirdly fluffy, petnames (princess, baby), mentions of bad relationships with parents, alcohol, comforting, do not have sex with strangers you meet on a roof, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 9.7k synopsis: when you stumble across a boy on your apartment rooftop, you can't help but invite him to stay. a/n: hi! it's me. this is my first work back and honestly, it's not great but i just needed to get back in the swing of things so please be kind. I missed you guys a lot and the time away was exactly what i needed. thank you all for understanding, and i love you unconditionally!

The winter air tickles your senses as you push open the large, unfairly heavy door to your complex’s rooftop. It might be bitter, but it’s welcomed - your body creating unnecessary heat from both the walk up the three flights of stairs and the discomfort of your day. 

Your shift was hard, too hard. Considering it’s a brand new year, you had stupidly thought that people would be a lot nicer to public service workers, yet you were proven wrong. With countless patients’ loved ones screaming down the phone to you, doctors barking demands at you because they see you as lesser than them, and not to mention the one man who decided that spitting in your face was a rational reaction to you politely telling him that he can’t see his grandmother who was in the middle of an operation.

Safe to say, you’ve had better shifts as a hospital receptionist. 

But there was always one place you could count on to take a deep breath and reset. The rooftop. It’s quiet, overlooks the city, and helps you put into perspective that murder is not the answer to your life problems. But sometimes, God, you wish it was…

Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you make your way to the chairs you so perfectly placed underneath the solar-charged fairy lights, which hang half-arsed off the unused 1990 aerials. It’s not really how you would like to decorate the place, if you had it your way, you would have it looking reminiscent of the rooftop from Wish You, the same one you committed to memory as Lee Sang kissed In Soo for the first time. But since you’re not even supposed to have access to this part of the building, you’ll count the pathetic attempt at creating sanctuary as a win. 

The lights guide you to your seat when you see a figure hunched over, one hand holding a beer and the other holding his head. This is not what you were expecting to see. No one comes up here, not past 10pm anyway. There is one neighbour who occupies the premises when he needs a smoke without his wife knowing, but he works the night shift. So this person is new.

“Um,” you begin, clearing your throat ever so softly to alert them of your presence without giving them an acute heart attack. “Hi?”

Their head jolts up from their hand, eyes wide and face shocked. Clearly, they didn’t expect to have company tonight either. 

You focus on the figure in front of you – a boy, no older than yourself – scrutinising his features with a careful eye. As a woman, being vigilant around unfamiliar men has become second nature, an unfortunately ingrained habit of self-preservation you have mastered since before you can remember. So, your mind ticks through the usual checklist: is there a need to run? Are your shoulders getting that deep tingle that crawls up to your jaw? Is your gut making you want to vomit? None of those alarm bells ring. Instead, you’re met with something else entirely - uncertainty, maybe even sympathy.

The boy seems…fine, at least on the surface. No initial gut-wrenching unease claws at your insides. Emboldened by the absence of any red flags, you take another ginger step closer, studying him in detail.

His large, tired brown eyes peer out from behind thick-rimmed glasses, the weight of exhaustion evident. The glasses sit securely on his pretty thick nose. His lips, naturally full and a muted pink, are set in a neutral line, though the light could be softening their actual colour - it’s hard to tell beneath the hood’s shadow. Greasy, near-black hair clings to his forehead, unkempt but thick. 

His outfit doesn’t fare much better to be honest; a mishmash of layers that hints at desperation more than deliberation. Faded grey jeans hang loose and crinkled, clearly worn more than once without a wash. Over a white t-shirt sits a black hoodie, topped off with a jacket far too big for him, the kind of size that suggests it doesn’t belong to him at all. The entire image strikes you in a way that leaves concern pricking all over your chest.

Steeling yourself, you step closer again, your voice soft but firm. “Are you okay?” The question is sincere, meant to come across as a kind gesture - like when you let a cat sniff around your hand before you just go in for the pet. Your eyes meet his, offering as much warmth as you can muster. There’s something about the way he sits, cold and crumpled, that pulls at your humanity.

At first, his expression flickers, betraying something fragile beneath the surface. But it doesn’t last. In an instant, his jaw sets, and his shoulders square in a defensive shift. His cheeks hollow as his tongue presses against them, words unspoken but clearly brewing. The moment hangs in the air, heavy and awkward. 

It’s as if your simple question has poked at a bruise, tender and raw. You’ve touched something buried, and for reasons you can’t yet work out, his reaction irks you. Of all things to take issue with, why this? What on earth had he expected - for you not to ask a very valid question? Perhaps it’s the day you’ve had that’s caused the unnecessary offence on your behalf.

He averts his gaze, the connection between you severed. Instead, he tips back the beer bottle in his hand, his focus shifting to the cityscape below. The quiet glug of liquid slipping down his throat is the only response you get, and it grates against the care you offered.

A flicker of irritation sparks within you. Perhaps it’s the brush-off, or maybe it’s the contradiction in his actions. He’s sitting here in your space, looking like the embodiment of a cry for help, yet recoils at the smallest act of kindness. Still, you don’t back down. Instead, you shift your weight and tilt your head, keeping your tone neutral but unwavering.

“Fine, If you don’t want to talk, that’s sound,” you say, folding your arms against the cold. “But sitting out here, looking like the world’s chewed you up and spat you out…people are going to ask questions like ‘are you okay’ or ‘what’s the matter’. Just saying.” You huff out and follow his gaze to the city. People are having a much better day than you out there, and envy jabs at you.

For a moment, you think he’ll continue ignoring you; his shoulders remain tense, his grip on the bottle firm. But then he sighs, the sound long and weary, like air escaping a deflating balloon, one being pinched and controlled. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, a surprising Australian accent whistling through the wind.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, though the words lack conviction. His eyes remain fixed on the horizon, steadfastly avoiding yours.

“You’re a terrible liar,” you counter, letting a small, dry smile tug at your lips. “And you’re also not allowed up here.”

A tense silence follows, broken only by the chug of a train in the far distance. It’s not exactly comfortable, but neither is it unbearable. You find yourself wondering who he is and what’s brought him to this specific rooftop. 

“You can’t get up here unless you’re a tenant,” you blurt out, trying to get any morsel of information from him. You figure the quicker you find out what he’s doing here, the quicker you can find a solution for him to leave and then have your safe space back to yourself. You might have sympathy for him, clearly having a hard time of life, but so are you - and your comfort outweighs a total stranger who can’t even bother to look your way.

“Okay,” he says bored, sipping his beer again. 

“That’s your invitation to either tell me that you moved in recently, or, your queue to leave because you’re trespassing.” 

“Invitation declined.”

He is so rude, you think to yourself, though you wonder whether you should just call him out for it and at least gain some reaction for him. 

Instead, you park yourself in the seat next to him, huffing as you drop down. “Well I’m not leaving until you do,” you state matter-of-factly, attempting to not let his presence ruin your mood even further. You suppose, if he sits and shuts up, you can at least pretend he isn’t here invading your space.

Though technically, you’re invading his, but you get the idea.

The boy side-eyes you, a small, angry smirk etching onto his cold rosey face. “Yeah? Well, you’re gonna be here for a long fucking time.” He spits his words out, frustration laced within each syllable, though you can tell it’s not directed towards you. The boy is so far in his own head that you begin to realise that any discontentment he might have has less to do with you and your presence, and more to do with the reason he’s hibernating on your rooftop.

So, you sit back, and leave him be. To be honest, you’ve dealt with far worse and crabbier people today, in comparison, this boy is like rainbows and kittens.

Closing your eyes, you let the white noise of the night take over you, infiltrating all your tension and disdain towards the day, and settling you into a comfortable silence. The fairy lights above add a serene atmosphere that you crave after work, the faint lights providing some fake warmth. They were not easy to get up there, but a few falls and tangles later, you realised that all the scrapes and twirls were worth it.

The hooded boy beside you peaks over, finally taking you in as more than an inconvenience. He notices how you breathe in deep, exhaling with a sigh of relief and a cloud of warmth that combats the freezing air. 

It doesn’t take him a minute to realise that you’ve had a bad day too, and a pang of guilt hits him. He’s being unfair to you when you probably just want to relax under the night sky and here he is taking up space. 

He takes up too much space.

Reaching down at his feet, he picks up a bottle of beer from his case, the clinking not even disturbing your quest for serenity. He pokes your thigh with the bottom of the bottle, gaining your attention. When your eyes meet once again, there’s a sorrowful look on his face, the alcohol a form of apology for being an arsehole. It’s an apology you’ll gladly accept. 

“You look like you could use it,” he murmurs, offering a tight smile as he waits for you to take the brown glass bottle.

You wrap your hand around the base and lift it up in thanks. “I could use ten sambucas and a pint of tequila to wash them down,” you snort out a sarcastic chuckle, beginning to unscrew the cap. You need to thank whatever genius decided that bottle openers were too much hassle and gave people a much easier and more practical way to open a bottle of beer. You hope they’re having a good night.

The boy lets out a laugh, short but genuine, raising his own bottle to his lips. “That bad, huh?” he asks, voice muffled slightly by the glass.

“It gets like that,” you shrug, taking a long pull from the bottle, barely savouring the taste, routing around for the effects of calmness that it will bring rather than its pallet. “Comes with working in a hospital.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity momentarily overriding his gloom “Nurse?”

“Receptionist.” You correct him, hissing out as you absorb the alcohol. Beer is not your favourite taste, a Sex on the Beach is much more appealing, but you would down a tank of gasoline if it meant you could get rid of this stress.

He sucks in an empathetic breath, whistling low as he leans back against the seat. “Yeah, you need a gun, not alcohol.”

The comment catches you off guard, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, you laugh - really laugh. It bursts out of you, raw and unrestrained, carrying away the weight of the day. Life isn’t inherently awful, but it’s lonely sometimes. Working back shift in the hospital makes it hard to keep friends or any semblance of a social life. The most interaction you get that isn’t disgruntled patients or angry phone calls is on twitter with your online friends, but even then, it’s a rise-and-repeat conversation cycle of ‘for real’ and ‘same’ replies to posts you make about Jang Kyungho when no one is looking. 

Not exactly the deep human connection that people need.

So this, being able to laugh and have a bit of understanding for even a second, is comforting. It almost makes you feel bad for cursing the boy out in your head.

Smiling, you extend a hand to him, “Y/N.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second before taking it. “Jaeyun,” he replies, offering you a smile in return. It’s faint but sincere, a crack in the armour he’s wearing so tightly.

As he grips your hand in his, you feel the ice-coldness on his skin, a clear indicator that he has been up here for quite some time. Or at least out in the open air. It only makes you more intrigued - and with him being a little slither more open with you, you decide to take the nugget and run with it.

So you talk, and talk, and talk. It feels like forever but it’s actually only two hours. Not a lot is said, but you learn some things about him; hobbies, interests, friends, his favourite TV shows and Films. All surface-level stuff, yet it feels like you’re speaking to an old friend. He learns about you too - the same stuff, with added anecdotes about working in a hospital.

But there is one thing that you are dying to know.

“So,” you begin, twisting your patio chair to face him fully, the legs scraping along the asphalt of the roof. “You can guess I’m here after a bad shift…why are you here?” Your face is expectant, waiting for an answer while you drink your beer.

But Jaeyun’s face is overcome with a flash of rage, partly due to your question, but more the fact that your question made him think about the reason he is here. Though, as quickly as his face shows agitation, it dissipates just as fast. Instead, he opts for an obtuse response. “Just wanted to enjoy the view. That’s all.”

“Couldn’t do that from your own building, no?” you tease lightly, humour softening the prodding tone. But your persistence nudges too close to something real. “Oh... did your girlfriend kick you out?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, too sharp and intrusive.

Unfortunately, it’s a habit of yours to be so nosey that it comes off inconsiderate or produces ill-timed questions. In this instance, it’s both.

His grip tightens on the neck of the bottle. The knuckles whiten, the tension visible. For a moment, he studies the label, reading the same ingredients over and over as if they hold the secret to life's greatest mystery - what happened on that fishing trip in Gavin and Stacey.

“My parents did. Yeah.” His confession is sharp, devoid of emotion

Your stomach drops. “Oh...” It’s all you manage, guilt prickling at the edges of your thoughts. You’re so stupid for poking Y/N! You inwardly scold yourself. Obviously, this issue is so much bigger than you can process. Still, your mouth will continue to flap around. 

“Yep.” He pops the p with bitter precision, his tone teetering on the edge of sarcasm. “Apparently, I need to ‘get my act together.’” He says with accompanying quotation marks from his fingers.

“As in?”

“As in I need to be their perfect little boy and follow in my brother’s footsteps - be a lawyer.” The words fall flat, heavy with resentment.

Nodding along, the pieces form enough for you to make your own solid conclusions. “And I guess you don’t want that?”

“Fuck no.” Jaeyun scoffs out a bitter laugh. “I’m more likely to need a lawyer than be one.”

“Ohhh a bad boy huh?” you wiggle your brows, trying to interject some semblance of humour into the moment while sussing him out, to lighten his load even just a smidge. You can’t begin to imagine what his parents said or did to him once he rejected their concept of a perfect life, and you don’t really want him to dwell on it right now either.

He laughs despite himself, a quiet sound that momentarily lightens his expression. “Maybe.” It’s a noncommittal answer, but he seems content to let you spin your own version of events.

Honestly, he is not bad in any shape or form. But when he says he would need a lawyer rather than being one, he means that that career is so absurd that even a goody too shoes like him is more likely to get in trouble before he stands in a suit.

He just wants to live his life without this great expectation, without people demanding he ‘do better’ when he knows he is doing just fine; he’s in a great University, studying music and production, and has a decent part-time job at the record store, which isn’t loads of money, but enough for him to pay his mum and dad digs and still have a life outside their constraints. He’s doing fine, or so he believes.

But fine isn’t enough for his parents. Their love towards their own son is tied to the weight of their expectations, ones he can’t - or won’t - carry.

“So they just…kicked you out?” you ask carefully, noting the sorrow in his features as he turns the events of the past few months in his head. Sympathy creeps back into your chest, any lingering annoyance dissipating along with the last sips of your beer.

“Yeah,” he confirms, sighing and shrugging. “It’s fine.”

“Are you staying with friends or…” You don’t finish the question because you’re scared of the answer; the dishevelled clothes and hair are enough to semi-confirm.

Jaeyun looks up, his gaze catching the glimmer of the fairy lights, their soft glow reflected in his dark irises. “I was, until a few days ago. You can only couch-hop for so long before people start to feel like you’re intruding.”

He holds no malice towards his friends, no bitterness in his tone, and honestly, his best friend Sunghoon said he could stay for as long as it took him to save up for an apartment of his own. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, the boy already doing more for him than most would have. Even Jay, his other friend, offered to loan him the money for the first month's rent on a flat uptown. 

But Jaeyun’s pride wouldn’t allow him to take advantage of their kindness. He would manage on his own, no matter how hard it got.

Seeing the pity in your eyes, he waves his hand to brush off your concern. “It’s fine, I’ve scraped up enough money to get rent now. I just need to find a place,” he smiles softly, appreciative of your sympathy even if he doesn’t want it. “I’ll be fine. I’m going looking tomorrow.”

There’s a sense of relief that his words bring you. Although his predicament isn’t ideal right now, it looks like it could be on the turnaround, and for that, you’re thankful.

“If it’s only for one night, do you want my couch?” The offer spills out before you can stop it, surprising even yourself.

Jaeyun laughs heartedly, eyebrows knitting in disbelief and amusement. “You’re fucking stupid.”

“Huh?!” you exclaim in shock. It’s not really the response you were expecting. A yes? Sure. A no? Absolutely. But an insult to punctuate your act of kindness was a curveball.

Sitting up straight, he places his beer on the ground, an amused smile softening his features. “I’m a random man you’ve known for a couple of hours. I could do anything to you in your own home, and you don’t seem the slightest bit worried about that.”

Okay, maybe he has a massive point. You don’t know him and he could literally attack you at any moment. And considering earlier you had to assess him before approaching, it shows that you do have the common sense not to let him stay with you.

But he poses no threat, none whatsoever. He’s just a boy in a fucked up situation, and your kind heart can’t see him freeze; god knows how many nights he’s been out. He’s already reminiscent of Jack Dawson turning into a block of iced body parts.

“Well, you won’t right?” You throw the question back to him. “I mean, to be honest, I’ve let men in my bed for a lot less than a tiny conversation and a beer.” 

As soon as the words tumble out of your mouth, your cheeks flush to match his cold ones, neck tingling in embarrassment. You’ve just confessed that your standards are abysmally low - you’ve slept with men who didn’t even have the decency to buy you a drink nevermind learn your name.

Jaeyun stifles a laugh, rubbing at his eye. “For your pride, I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” The smile on his face is so beautiful that you’re caught off guard a little. Now you wish he was one of the men you let roll around on top of you for a compliment and a ride home.

His expression shifts, returning to a more serious note, though the smile lingers. “Seriously, Y/N. Thank you for the offer, but I only have” - he glances at his watch - “six hours before sunrise anyway.”

“Seriously, it’s no trouble-”

“I’m serious too,” he interrupts gently, slouching back into his seat. “You should go in. It’s cold, and after the day you’ve had, you need sleep.”

“I-”

“Y/N.” His tone is firm but not unkind. “I’m fine. Go. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

His refusal stings in a strange way, the rejection of your kindness more personal than it should feel. But you know better than to argue with someone so resolute. It never ends well. So, with a resigned nod, you down the last of your beer and stand.

“Okay,” you reply, setting the empty bottle aside. “I’m in 4A if you change your mind. I can grab some blankets? Pillows?”

Jaeyun places a hand over his heart, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. But I promise I’ll survive.”

And so, you leave him there, your heart tugging at you to insist, to argue, to make him take shelter in your tiny flat. But your feet keep moving, respecting his wishes.

As you reach the door, you glance back one last time, the words caught in your throat. You just hope he’ll be okay.

_____

The rain lashes, jolting you awake. It’s not the pretty white noise rain that you enjoy, it sounds like hundreds of tiny little pebbles being pelted at your window. Strange. It was forecast as clear skies until at least Tuesday. 

You blink groggily, groaning at the interruption. You can’t have been asleep for more than two hours - if that. Begrudged, you turn your back to the outside, shielding yourself from the rain that cannot attack you. Yet, an unsettling feeling stews in the bottom of your stomach, the kind that makes your heart beat faster and your mouth gain moisture.

It’s not uncommon for you to have random spouts of anxiety, all your life you’ve suffered from it, but this isn’t your typical ‘my brain is going to bring up that one time I peed myself in primary 2 and had to be sent home’ anxiety. This is something more.

Fuck.

Jaeyun.

The thought hits you like a bolt of lightning and your body moves before your mind can catch up. You fling off your pastel pink duvet, slide your feet into your beloved fuzzy slippers, and throw on a housecoat to cover your half-naked form. If you had the right mindset and not half asleep and half in panic, you would have grabbed a rain jacket and some trainers instead.

Thought, without thinking about your own state, the chilly air cuts at your skin as you make your way to the roof. The rain, now mixed with hail, pelts down hard, each sting enhancing your concern. Your eyes roam around near the seated area, one of your hands shielding your eyes from the brutal hailstones, each one nipping your hand in anger. 

"Jaeyun?" you shout, your voice cutting through the storm, only to be drowned out by the constant rain. You get closer to the seats and see nothing. Panic overwhelms you, hot and stifling. "Are you still here?"

As you spin around, your eyes finally land on him. He’s slumped up against the rooftop enclosure which acts as a headboard to an uncomfortable concrete bed. His jacket and hoodie are doing as much to protect him as a candyfloss blanket, each soaked through and clinging to his skin. How can he sleep like this? It makes you wonder if he lied about just how long he had stopped couch-crashing and living out in the open.

Quickly, you drop to your knees beside him, ignoring the puddle that entrenchs your legs, and place your hand on his shoulder as you shake him awake. “Jaeyun?” you bellow, loud enough for him to startle awake and instantly put a guard up.

“Huh?” he mumbles, voice thick with confusion.

“Come on, I’m not leaving you up here,” you inform. This time, it isn’t a question but a demand. You have too much compassion to willingly leave him up here any longer.

Jaeyun’s eyes squint through his water-splattered glasses as he takes in your figure. “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing? You’re soaked,” he states the obvious, yet oblivious to his own state. “Go back inside.”

“Not without you,” you fire back. “Grab your things.”

“But-”

“Either that or I stay up here with you,” you cut him off, voice firm though only kindness shines through.

You can see the conflict in his face, his concern for your drenched state outweighing his stubbornness. He sighs, defeated, and finally nods. “Fine.”

If there is one thing Jaeyun hates to be is a burden, but it seems no matter what happens, he will inconvenience you in some way - might as well choose the drier option.

Standing upright, you extend a hand, offering him some help up, but he refuses. Instead, he grabs the duffle beside him and clumsily gets up, following you down and into your apartment.

As soon as he walks into the warmth, his bones leap with excitement and his shoulders relax in contentment. You flick on the lights which allows him a better view of your personal space. And it is exactly how he imagined it.

Your walls are covered in art and photos of you and your friends, lyric posters from bands he has never even heard of, and a shrine to TO1 in the corner. It’s cosy, lived in, and he feels a massive pang of envy. 

“You can use my shower,” you say while subconsciously tidying up, removing the cups and wine glasses that have piled on the coffee table. “Luckily for you, I like wearing guy’s clothes on my period so I’ll see what I can find to fit you.”

“Seriously, Y/N. I’ll just, dry off with a towel or something, No Stress.” He doesn’t like the fuss but he can’t deny he doesn’t feel a little fuzzy as you make space for him. 

Scoffing, you turn around with a perplexed look on your face. “A towel? Jaeyun, you’re soaked to the bone. You need a shower and then you can have a towel, okay?” 

A grateful grin adorns the boy’s face as he takes his shoes off. “Okay. Thank you, Y/N. Seriously.” Jaeyun nods, clutching his damp duffle as he trudges towards the bathroom. 

You point out the way, adding a quick, “Towels are on the rack, and there’s shampoo, soap, and more in there. Just use whatever you need, okay?” 

With another muttered thank you, he waddles to your bathroom, suddenly enthralled with how the night has panned out. It’s been a while since he had a decent shower, and the ones in the Uni’s lockeroom are made more for a quick wash down than a deep cleanse.

As he disappears into the bathroom, you let out a sigh, glancing around your apartment. It isn’t a mess by your standards, but you suddenly feel self-conscious about the clutter. Usually, when people are up, it’s those who are either only making their way to your bedroom or those who do not care and have known you long enough to understand that you like a bit of mess.

A messy home is a home loved.

The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom, and you take the moment to rummage through your wardrobe. You pull out a pair of joggies and an oversized hoodie that has seen you coming every cycle for the past three years. You can’t get much more comfort than these. They’ll be a bit loose on his slim frame, but they’re warm and dry.

Speaking of which, you glance down at your own rain-soaked state, grimacing. The slippers squelch faintly with each step, and the damp housecoat clings unpleasantly to your skin. Without hesitation, you pull out a baggy t-shirt and some old pyjama shorts, slipping into them after quickly drying off your hair with a towel that’s close by. It’s not inherently clean, but it serves its purpose, so that’s good for now.

Satisfied, you place the clothes Jaeyun will borrow on the sofa before heading to the kitchen. The kettle hums to life as the storm outside continues its symphony, the hail getting more dangerous and cutthroat. A hot cup of tea feels like just the thing to chase away the chill, after all, there’s little problems in life that a good cuppa can’t fix.

Just as you reach for the tea bags, the creak of the bathroom door pulls your attention.

Jaeyun steps out, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead, droplets of water glistening on his skin. A towel sits promiscuously low on his hips, and despite yourself, your gaze trails downward. The delicate silver chain around his neck catches the light, the cross pendant resting at eye level with his pretty brown nipples. Your eyes wander further, taking in the faint definition of his toned abs, the subtle dip hinting at a v-line. And his cock is outlined perfectly to give you an idea of his size and width but you can tell it still doesn’t do him justice. 

You realise with a jolt that your mouth is slightly open, and the train of your thoughts is taking a decidedly inappropriate detour. Heat rushes to your cheeks as your mind conjures up scenarios you’d never admit aloud. A pang of guilt follows swiftly - this boy has been through hell, and he’s come to you for solace, not to be gawked at.

“Sorry,” Jaeyun says, breaking the spell. His voice is soft, a mix of embarrassment and strange pride, as he catches your lingering stare. “I’ll get dressed. I just…didn’t know where the clothes were.”

“Oh!” You clear your throat and nod toward the sofa, purposefully keeping your gaze above his shoulders. “Yep, just there. Help yourself. I think they’ll fit.”

As he moves to retrieve the clothes, you busy yourself with literally anything else - studying the ceiling, adjusting the kettle, anything to avoid the moment and stop trying to catch glimpses of his cock. 

You don’t hear the rustling of clothes though, instead, you just hear yourself breathing, which piques your interest. Why isn’t he changing?

Subtly, your eyes glance over to him and then you see it, the look on his face as he stares at the clothes. You’ve had that look before too, the one that comes with the mixed feelings of disbelief, shame, sadness, hope, and every other conflicting emotion that arises when you’re down and out.

“Thanks,” he whispers, “For all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you reply, taking a few small steps forward. But Jaeyun shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“No, really,” he insists. “I…I don’t think I’ve met someone as kind as you in a long time.” His voice breaks on the last word, and he quickly looks away, ashamed of the vulnerability slipping through. 

He has his friends, they are kind and generous much like yourself, but being kicked out of his own family has also shown him the darkest parts of humanity, the ones that he doesn’t let others know that he’s experienced. Truthfully, he’s just a scared boy who needs his family. 

The admission punches through your chest, leaving no room for hesitation. You glide over to him as your arms wrap gently around his shoulders. 

If a cuppa can fix most things, a hug can fix them all.

At first, he stiffens, unsure how to respond, but then he relaxes, his head lowering slightly against you.

“It’s okay,” you murmur softly. “You’re going to be okay. Maybe not right now, but soon.”

Jaeyun’s arms tentatively come up to return the embrace, and for a moment, the storm outside fades into irrelevance. His eyes close and for a change, he believes that it will be fine. This moment isn’t going to last forever, once the morning blooms, he’ll be out of your life and trying to get back on his feet, but he’s thankful for the reassurance and hope right now.

Pulling back slightly, his arms still lingering around you. His eyes, uncertain and yearning, flicker between your face and your lips. Then, without a second thought, he leans in and presses his lips to yours - a fleeting, hesitant kiss that seems to catch even him off guard. 

His lips retract from yours as he draws back, his face flushed with embarrassment and horror. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. Why the fuck would he kiss you without consent when you’ve been so kind towards him? He thinks. His hand twitches at his side, as though unsure whether to retreat or reach out again. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Would it make you feel better?” you interrupt gently, your voice soft but steady.

His brows furrow, confusion flickering across his features. “What?”

“Would it make you feel better?” you repeat, tilting your head slightly. There’s no judgment in your tone, no hesitation. “To kiss me?”

“Really, no, it’s okay-”

This time, you close the distance, your lips capturing his before he can finish the sentence. It’s slow, deliberate, a kiss that tells him you’re here for him despite still being strangers. His initial surprise melts into something deeper, something warmer, as he responds cautiously at first, then with more certainty.

It actually is making him feel better, the human connection, it’s nature's balm.

So he follows your lead, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you impossibly close as his hands splay over your back, covering most of the surface. The way his plump lips move against yours is magnetic, sucking and pulling you into his world. You’ve been kissed more times than you can count - shamelessly to say - but his mouth feels a little different; a little less icky than the others and a lot more like they’re meant to be on yours.

With that feeling charging your bloodstream, your hands fly up to his damp hair, craving to have him on each of your senses. You can’t get enough of him, his taste of beer from the numerous bottles he downed on the roof, the touch of his silky locks that are in need of a haircut, his scent of your strawberry milk body wash mixing in with his own musk, how he sounds when he growls into your mouth, showcasing that he’s just as desperate as you are for this. 

You need him…

Swiftly, your hands trail from his head, down his neck, your nails lightly scratching down his collarbones until you reach the veins just above where you were unabashedly looking not 10 minutes ago. 

Jaeyun pushes your ass against the sofa, bucking up into you, hips deliciously working to place your hand on his cock. God, it feels beautiful, even with the fluffy barrier. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans deeply into your mouth, passing the need from himself into you. Your hand grips his covered shaft as you palm him teasingly. “Don’t do this if you don’t want to.” 

Honestly, he doesn’t want to say anything that will make this stop, his body pulsing with the desire to have you wrapped around him. But he also believes in consent, and while you both might be horny-induced 22-year-olds, you’re also strangers. 

Shaking your head adamantly, you grip his dick harder, smiling at the whimper it draws from him. “I want this, Jaeyun.”

“I suppose, men have been in your bed for a lot less, right?” he chuckles into your mouth. And while it could come across as an insult to some -  that he’s essentially throwing back your own slut-shaming dialogue from earlier -  you feel no degradation or malice behind his words. You can tell he’s playful, under all the dreary circumstances. He’s a boy who has light and laughter built into his DNA. 

Maybe it’s delusion, maybe it’s a soul connection, or maybe it’s the fact that you need to bounce on his cock within the next five minutes or you’ll perish that’s clouding your judgment. 

Either one, you let it slide.

So, playfully, you slap his chest and break the kiss. “Keep talking and you won’t get the chance to see my bedroom.”

“That’s okay, I can fuck you here,” he replies quick-witted, suddenly hoisting you up on the back of the couch, the wood and material digging into your ass not uncomfortably. 

You laugh and so does he, looking into each other’s eyes, and it all feels so right. 

Bringing your hand up to his face, you push his hair off of his forehead and reveal his eyes - the light from your living room dancing in his pupils, much like how they had been on the rooftop, but this time, there is an abundance of happiness that adds to the shine. 

“You’re so pretty,” you confess, that no-filter brain coming into full effect once again. Granted, a much better consequence of it. 

A faint, rose blush crawls across the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, a bashful grin on his mouth. “Thank you. Personally, I think you’re prettier so…”

“Guess we can be pretty together, huh?”

“Pretty good together you mean?” 

Another laugh jumps out of you and you cup both his cheeks, the warmth of them comforting and worth cherishing. You peck his nose. “I should have known a pretty boy like you would be a charmer.”

He shrugs, kissing your nose back, not bothering to rebut. Instead, his hands guide your legs to wrap around him, hands finding your ass, and he lifts you up. You can’t ignore his cock now semi-hard pressing into you as he bounces you into a comfortable position.

Securing yourself, you circle your arms across his shoulders and kiss him once again, letting him lead you down your hallway, anticipation and greed passing through your breaths and tongues. 

“Which one?” he pants out, squeezing your ass as he does so.

“This one on the right,” you point half-arsed, too lost in the moment to give it a full thought. 

Awkwardly due to your wriggling body, Jaeyun opens the door, trying to view a path to which he can reach your bed without falling over your clutter. Shoes and more lay abandoned over your carpet, creating an obstacle, but one he refuses to lose. 

Jaeyun finally reaches your queen-sized bed and gently places you down, his cock pressing into you even more. 

It’s only then that he realises that along the way from your living room to your bedroom, his towel has fallen down, leaving his exposed cock rubbing against the fabric of shorts. “Jesus fucking christ.”

You look at him and see the pleasure on his face, biting his lips as his eyebrows knit together, rubbing against you again. It makes you giggle, you don’t know why, but he just brings it out of you.

The sound from your lips draws his attention back. “What?” he breathes out heavily, cock thumping with need as he humps you again.

“Maybe you should be inside of me while you thrust - kinda how this whole sex thing works,” you playfully jab, biting your lips together to stop from laughing. But he laughs for you, resting his forehead on your chest and shaking his head in amusement.

“Shut up, I’m just excited.”

“I can see that, yeah.”

It’s easy with him, you’re noticing, like you’ve somehow been in a relationship for years and you’ve just come home from a couples date with your married friends, two bottles of red wine consumed, and adoration palpable in the air. You have two dogs, maybe three if you can get your way, and you are the annoying pair that people hate to hang out with because your love for one another never dwindled, not even after all those years.

Maybe you shouldn’t be fantasising about a life with this random man you met on a roof, but that’s where your brain immediately goes each time you banter or giggle with one another.

He’s different.

Jaeyun stands up, letting you see his cock as he pumps it gently, getting it to full mass. The fact that it’s standing at 5 inches already and still growing causes an ache in your stomach. Fuck, it’s going to feel so good inside of you, your walls are already leaking out for it, staining your pyjama shorts. 

His hands grip your shorts and peel them off, hurriedly throwing them on the floor, only adding to the chaos. Your legs instinctively spread and the juices from your excitement gleam in the moonlight, looking like a ripe fruit just ready to be devoured.

And devoured it will be.

Hoisting you down, Jaeyun positions you at the end of the bed until your ass is almost hanging off, kneeling down between your thighs. Not exactly how you thought the turn of events was going, but you are the furthest from mad at it.

“You look so fucking delicious, Y/N.” Jaeyun’s comment makes you feel exposed but not in a bad way, yet, you still want to hide from him. As your legs try to close, he places his large hands on your thighs, shaking his head. “No, princess, the only way you're shutting your legs right now is if you’re clamping my head between them.”

“Jaeyun…” you whine, both at the petname and his breath ghosting over your hardened clit, making it weep again - much to Jaeyun’s delight.

“I know, princess. You need it, huh?” Jaeyun whispers, kissing up your inner thigh and around the area you crave him most. 

The heat in the room is electric, any cold you both felt from the rain now disappeared from your bones and replaced with scorching intensity. Your hips follow the blow of his breath in search of connection but he simply places a chaste kiss on your clit before pulling away, a smirk on his face as he sees you whimper and squeak.

“You make the prettiest noises when you’re desperate, Y/N,” he gloats, though it’s prideful and not arrogant. He means it, and that’s why he keeps teasing you softly, puckering at your folds and giving you just enough to have you humping the air and arching into him.

“I’m never letting you use my shower again,” you laugh in discontentment, your arm flying across your face as you hide in the comfort of your bicep. 

Jaeyun huffs a laugh, echoing your own amusement before he speaks. “I know, I’m being so mean considering you’ve been so kind, huh? You’re just so cute when you’re like this.”

“I’m about to become a bitch if you don’t do something,” you warn lightly, peaking down to look at him under your arm.

“Well, I better get to it then right?”

And with that, his thick tongue stripes up your folds, gathering and savouring your wetness. Your back arches off the bed and pushes just enough onto him that his nose catches your clit. “Fuck!” you bellow. 

The tip of his tongue searches for your nub, and once it hits the spot and your hands fly to his hair, his lips suction around it, almost making out with it. 

He’s not real you think to yourself. You can’t help the jealousy that rises inside of you as your brain works overtime to imagine just how many girls he has had to go down on for him to be this good at eating you out. If there was ever such a thing as a pussy eating contest, you know he would win hands down because he’s already got you chanting his name, punctuated by profanities. 

“Right there, Jaeyun…fuck…” 

His pride swells and he grows more confident, tongue flicking quickly over your button as he drools over your cunt. It’s safe to say that Jaeyun loves pussy. If he could have it morning, noon, and night, and elevensies, he would without hesitation. Especially yours. The taste of your tang and sweetness is enough to put him in a frenzy, long forgetting about his aching cock and focusing solely on drinking you up.  

He humps the air though, as he always does, resembling a dog in heat as he slabbers and grunts into your cunt. He nibbles at your clit and soothes it with his wet muscle, a smile plastered on his face with each movement - your noises urging him on.

He brings his middle and ring finger to your pulsating hole as it clenches around nothing, deciding to give you some more relief. As he plunges in, you scream out in joy, an open-mouthed smile on your face as coherent words get lost in your throat. You clearly don’t get eaten out as often as you deserve, and that just spurs Jaeyun on more to be the best you’ve ever had.

“So wet for me, princess. Taste so fucking good I want to be here for hours.”

And while that sounds nice in theory, you need him inside of you now. His fingers, thick and beautiful, are nice for now, but that 6-inch, throbbing cock is calling your name. So, you pull him away much to your pussy’s weeping plea for him to keep going, his mouth covered in your slick which is perhaps the most beautiful sight you have ever seen -  and you’ve seen the Northern Lights on a crisp autumn morning. 

His fingers never stop though, just curling inside of you slowly, beckoning your climax still. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern weaving in his tone.

Sitting up on your elbows, you smile and pant, trying to maintain a steady voice while the tip of his fingers presses against your soft spot inside, jaw slacking each time he holds it for a little longer. “I need your cock so back, Jaeyun. I’m so serious.” The words are desperate and real, shamelessly desperate. 

“You sure you don’t want to cum right now? I can do it.” It’s not like he can’t make you cum over and over again anyway. 

Shaking your head, you sit up, hunching over to cup his face. “Please. I really need you to fuck me.”

A primal desire flickers past Jaeyun’s eyes and a quick nod tells you that he needs it too. His cock jumping for joy at the thought of being enveloped in your tight cunt. So, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, pulling on a show as his tongue weaves through his digits, wide eyes looking up at you with sheer longing. It stirs something inside of you, something that suddenly makes you want to grow a cock and have him choke on it. 

But you quickly shake those thoughts, pulling him up by his hair and kissing him deeply. His tongue now tastes of you and you are so glad you love sweet juices and decided that for the past three weeks, cranberry spritz has been your favourite. 

Jaeyun makes quick hands of stripping you of your t-shirt, leaving you both naked and clawing at one another. 

“You got condoms?” he asks between kisses, trailing down your neck as his hands grip your hips so tightly that the skin turns white. 

But you don’t want that. You want to feel him. Raw and unfiltered. Is it stupid? Of course, it is. But some would say letting him inside your home never mind inside your body is already wreckless, so, what’s another reckless abandonment on your list tonight?

“No. No condom, please,” you mumble against his hair as you kiss the top of his head, your conditioner filling your senses.

Jaeyun freezes his mouth and darts up, eyes seeking yours to make sure he heard you right. “Huh?”

“No condom. I’m on the pill,” you stroke his cheek tenderly, “Please, Jaeyun. Do this with me just once, yeah?”

For some reason, that ‘just once’ pangs in the boy’s chest and he hates the feeling more than anything. He doesn’t want this to be once, he wants this to be again, and again, and then some more. Jaeyun isn’t one to believe in fate but considering he chose your flat complex rooftop out of all the others in the city, and it decided to pour down - even though it’s been dry for the past two weeks - which led to you coming to get him and practically drag him into your home; he would say that doesn’t happen by chance. 

Although, instead of getting in his head, he agrees, lust overpowering his responsibility to be safe. “I want it too, so fucking badly,” he leans down, rubbing his leaking cock on your slit, mouth moving to your ear. “I can’t wait to cum inside you, fill you up and make you suck me in.”

Does he know where this confidence came from? Perhaps it was the way you whispered into the air his name over and over again how good you felt while he ate your pretty little cunt, or maybe it's the fact that if this is your only time under him, he will damn make sure you’re thinking about him for the rest of your life.

The heels of your feet move with his ass as he gyrates his hips, allowing his cock to snag on your clit and elicit a hiss from both of you. Your lips messily leave open-mouth kisses over any skin that you can reach; his neck, cheek, lips, forehead, all of it, the feeling of his glistening skin on your lips addicting.

“Please, Jaeyun. Fuck me. Right. Now.”

Your pleading snaps him into full throttle, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance, his bell expanding and contracting as he slips inside of you. Your groans of pleasure harmonise in the winter night, both your bodies connecting fully as he bottoms out slowly, balls meeting your ass as he pushes in to the hilt.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck, and you lock him in there, fisting his hair and bucking your hips for friction. He fills you up so good you wonder why humans are born empty and not with a permanent cock up their pussy. 

You never want him to leave.

“Move, Yunnie, please.” The tone of your voice doesn’t carry much conviction but portrays your desperation for him. The nickname falling off your cock-drunk tongue much to his happiness. If anyone ever calls him Yunnie again, and it overtakes the way you whimper it out, he will commit murder. Only you can call him that, call him whatever you want, call him by his name, ever again.

Obeying your wishes, he begins to pull back his hips and move them painfully slow back into you, feeling each bump of your walls and how they meld perfectly with the veins of his fat cock. 

While he loves savouring the moment of you taking him in, feeling how your hole adapts to his girth and length, creating way just for him. “Faster, Yunnie. God, please.”

“Asking God to help get what you want is crazy considering it’s me you should be begging,” he chuckles, never increasing his pace. 

“Shut up, please,” you whine out, grabbing his ass and trying to physically move him to speed up.  

“You can ask me to shut up but not beg me to move faster?” he tuts, going even slower, “C’mon, princess. Ask me nicely.”

You want to slap him, a dry laugh coming from your throat as you fight between your pride - telling you never to do as a man says - and your need for him to start jackhammering into you. 

Well, you suppose you can let your pride have a night off for a chance.

“Jaeyun, please, move faster. I’m begging you. Fuck me faster and harder.”

Those sweet yet filthy words send Jaeyun into orbit, and he grants your prayers. With his hands pushing down your hips, he begins to thrust with ferocity, the tip of his cock not punching into your cervix. It’s much more delicious than you ever could have imagined, the way he snaps into your cunt with no restraint, your pussy taking a beating in the best way possible. 

This is heaven.

“Yes, Jaeyun! Yes! Don’t fucking stop, please.” 

And stop he does not. In fact, he lifts your legs over his shoulders and folds you in half, the new angle somehow reaching so deep you can feel him poking your stomach. You have never felt this good in your life. A cock has never made your brain turn to mush or made your hands literally peel the skin from your partner’s back before, yet here you are, chanting incoherent words into his ear and clawing up his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, princess. Taking my cock so well.” Jaeyun breathes into your neck, nipping at your skin and he marks you right back. His praise makes you smile, kissing all over his face in appreciation for the pleasure he is giving you right now. “Such a good girl, Y/N.”

You could cum that minute, and he feels how you clench around him, sucking him in further, making him tip his head back and move even faster. He wants you to cum together, and with how good your pussy feels, he isn’t far from it.

“You sure you want me to cum inside?” he asks again, trying to gauge whether you could have changed your mind. But you grip his hair and stare into his eyes. 

“If you don’t, I’ll kick you out back into the rain.”

Jaeyun laughs. Hard. Your threat is meaningless because you clearly would never leave him out there again to drown in the winter hail, but it does get your point across. You don’t just want his cum, you need it. And luckily for you, he is happy to oblige. 

So, with your consent, he works on getting you both to the edge, his right hand coming down to your clit and rubbing it in smooth circles, a juxtaposition to his harsh thrusts. And you begin to see stars, constellations, as you arch your back and wriggle under him. The coil in your tummy burns with the insatiable pull. 

“I’m cumming! Yunnie, I’m cumming,” you warn, happiness filtering the air as you buck your hips and match the rhythm of his shaft penetrating you. “Cum with me. Please, baby.”

Baby

His balls tighten at the petname and groans loudly. “Call me that again.”

“Baby, cum inside me,” you repeat within a moan, forcing your eyes open to lock onto his. “Cum with me.”

And just like that, with the final clench of your walls around him, he spurts his white seed inside of you, a primal roar escaping his lips as each rope coats your canal. You cum with him, his name falling from your lips over and over again as you chant out in hymn. 

“Squeeze it, princess. Take it all like you want.” He validates you without ridicule, a grin of glee etching onto his face as his body shakes with the euphoria he feels. You were right, cumming inside of you is much better than a condom.

After a while, both your hearts begin to slow down and his body collapses onto yours. His lips lazily kiss your sweaty skin on the top of your breast, your fingers threading through his now dry hair, the only wetness coming from persperation. Its intimate, despite the newness of the situation, and you can’t help but plaster a smile on your face.

It feels so right.

And you’re not the only one who believes so.

Jaeyun gathers some strength to lean on his arm, cupping your face as he strokes your cheek. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” His voice is wavering due to exhaustion, but it’s overshadowed by sincerity. 

Placing your hand over his, you titter slightly, the sound making Jaeyun’s stomach knot and cock pulse inside you once again. “You mean having sex or staying in my house and abusing my shower privileges?”

“Both.” He murmurs earnestly, pinching your cheek. “I also want you to abuse my shower…when I get one.” The last part of that sentence falters slightly, his voice dipping as if suddenly comping back into his reality.

But you won’t let him dwell in it. Instead, you reach up to kiss him gently, lips expressing the reassurance you worry your words might not. And it seems to do the trick because, in an instant, he’s kissing you back with passion, taking each swipe of your tongue against his as confirmation that you want to have this again and see where it goes. 

It could lead to nothing but it could lead to everything.

And he needs to find out.