#but i couldn't describe it any better myself

[moe-broey]

Thank you transwomen (in general but also) for the term "boymode" bc using that terminology for myself as a transguy (so, "girlmode") has been the only way I've been able to aptly and succinctly describe whatever the hell was going on *vaguely gestering to my adolescence from ages 15 to 19* there.

[medicinemane]

Well, got that section finished up... still not sure I made the right call with the kind of lumpy deposits look, but the ravine was tall and narrow and it's hard to add depth both to long stretches and in confined areas so...

But we'll see, like I said I've kind of lost the ability to evaluate anything I do, it just is what it is

So long as it's better than default gen I guess that's good enough

[nehts]

I guess. ultimately. I suppose this is why I am so desperate for ... that dynamic from back then to return - in some way. To return in ... any way whatsoever, really. I love my wife - I adore her, and we care deeply for one another. It's... simply the fact that ... how to phrase this? Hm .

Though... I would really. really benefit with ... one more person within my life - one who has a similar dynamic to what I'm used to from back then - someone to worship me while I take care of their needs, someone to devote themselves utterly to me as I provide all that I can for them, someone willing to do anything for me as I give them access to all of me.

Ultimately... I miss it, more and more each day - not because I feel like something is lacking in the relationship with my wife, but ... instead, it's more...

Hm. I love my wife and I'm content and happy with all that we have together - it's simply... difficult to fulfill all that I require from someone that I view as my equal - someone who is a platonic soulmate. It's two very different relationship types. I suppose that I'll have to think on this more.

[midnightbluebells03]

Hello! I was curious if you could do a dom!Abby x chubby reader, maybe some smut where the reader starts feeling bad about her body so Abby "shows" her how pretty she is *wink* *wink*

It's fine if you reject my request remember to drink water and have a good day/night :)

THROUGH HER EYES

CW - fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving), negative self talk

WC - about 1k

Reader is described as fem and chubby, I based this off of myself a little as a plus sized girlie

No outbreak

Thank you for the request darling! And thank yall for over 100 followers 🖤

Leave me any requests in my asks xo

It all happened so fast.

Only fifteen minutes ago you were standing infront of the mirror looking at yourself in the new dress Abby had bought you. The one you had been looking at online for weeks but never hit buy. Because the truth was you didn't think it would look good on you. The model in the picture was tall, skinny, flawless. A stark contrast to how you saw yourself.

Your hands ran over you body as you took in how the fabric clung to you. How you could see the outline of your stomach, the cellulite on your thighs and the way your arms looked in the thin straps. It felt like you couldn't stop. Your mind relentlessly picking apart every bit of your appearance until there was tears forming in your eyes. It wasn't jsut the dress, you pinched at your round cheeks, fussed with your hair, you even thought about taking off your makeup.

Abby had been watching you silently in the doorframe of the ensuite bathroom. Her eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed tight across her chest. You two were supposed to be meeting her friends in half an hour but instead she shot them a text, saying you guys were going to be a little late. Before she pushed you onto the bed and dropped between your legs.

"Abby we don't have time-" your protest was met with two fingers slipping past your lips. You gasp for a second but hum softly before starting to suck. Earing a smirk from the girl below you.

"They can wait" Abby pulls her fingers out slowly, you try to chase them and earn a small chuckle from her. "You look so good I just have to" the feeling of her hand running up your inner thigh makes you need to bite your lip.

"I'm actually gonna change" you admit, glancing over to the closet, a slight frown on your lips. With a soft sigh you start to explain, not making eye contact with Abby as you do. "The dress is lovely baby, thank you I just think I'd look better in jeans or something"

"No" Her voice is stern, that same tone she uses when telling you to behave. But her hands are as soft as ever. Gently moving up further until she's brushing her fingers across your panties. Making you gasp. "No baby you're gonna wear this, you're also gonna look into that mirror" her other hand grasps your jaw gently, forcing you to meet your own eyes in the reflection. "While I show you how pretty you are okay?"

Despite the part of you that wanted to say no, that wanted to give in to the insecurity and self hate. You swallow hard, giving her a breathy. "Okay" as you watch her bunch the dress up your hips.

"You stop looking I stop" her hands pause on the waistband of your panties. Waiting for your nod before pulling them down. "Good girl"

That's how you ended up here. With your fingers tangled in Abby's once slicked back braid while her tounge works calculated circles around your clit. Your eyes fixated on yourself in the mirror. A twinge of embrassment in your chest that was being drowned out by the pleasure. The way her hands are so tight on your thighs that your almost sure it'll leave finger shaped bruises was enough along to make you wet. But paired with the soft moans she's letting out against your dripping pussy you couldn't help but try to grind into her face.

You tip your head down to watch Abby for a second, desperate to see your pretty girl. Starting to feel yourself getting close to the edge. But always the observer Abby is quick to notice, pulling back fully. Despite your moans and desperate attempt to keep her head where you needed her.

"I told you baby"

"Abby-" you plead, only cut off by her lips pressing to yours in a quick kiss.

"Shh" you watch as she gets onto the bed, positioning herself behind you. "Just moving a little, don't panic" She brushes the hair out of your face, pressing kisses to your shoulder as she gets comfortable. Her hand moves past your stomach until she reaches your clit. Making you moan softly as she slowly traces circles around your sensitive bud. "Now look" her free hand grabs your jaw, keeping you looking in the mirror. You can't help but focus on how her steel blue eyes stay glued to your body. Looking over you like you're her prized posession. "There's my pretty girl"

Her fingers slowly dip down to your hole as you lean backwards. Positioning yourself further into her chest as she slips in. Two thick fingers stretching you out as your eyes roll back for a second. "Fuck" you quickly fix your gaze, looking at your own flushed face as Abby slowly moves in and out of you. Her other hand trailing down to massage your breasts through the fabric of your dress.

"Taking my fingers so fucking well" she bites down on your lobe gently, making you moan as her lips continue down your neck. Only stopping to mutter into your skin. "Always perfect for me aren't you baby?"

"Mhm" you try to reply through your pathetic moans. Watching yourself as Abby works you closer to the edge. Fingers curled up just the right amount to hit your g-spot. Your legs start to shake as you clentch around her hard. Using all your focus to keep looking in the mirror so she doesn't stop.

"Good girl, cmon baby cum all over my fucking hand" Abby groans into your ear, her movements not pausing as you cum. Your moans echoing through the room as you slump into her fully. Breathing heavily as your eyes finally break from the mirror, looking up to the ceiling. Abby presses a soft kiss to your head. "Cmon baby let's get you cleaned up". You shuffle forward and let her get off the bed. Listening to her walk to the bathroom, the tap running as she holds a cloth under it.

"Abby?" You call out softly, waiting for her to come back between your legs. Gently wiping you up.

"Yeah baby?"

"You should wear your hair down" you prop yourself up onto your elbows. Tilting your head towards her. "Your braids all fucked up and I think Manny will kill us of we're any later"

She chuckles before throwing the cloth onto your nightstand. Planning to deal with it later and starting to unravel her braid. Dirty blonde hair falling in soft waves. You sit up, pulling on your panties before fixing your dress. Looking yourself over on the mirror, expect this time you can't help but smile.

"Yknow this dress is cute"

[noxturnalpascal]

Dancing is a Dangerous Game

(FrankieMorales  x  F!Stripper!Reader)

A/N & Warnings: Sexual Content below - 18+ only, Frankie doing what he do (iykyk), unspecified age gap (anywhere from 10-15 yrs), talk of stripping/dancing as a job that pays the bills. The photos on the Moodboard are just for fun, the female Reader is not specifically physically described so you can imagine her however you want. Thank you to @saradika for the divider.

Did I make this prompt up myself for me and some fellow writers? Yes. Did I set the word count limit? Also Yes. Did I stick anywhere even close to that limit? *laughs hysterically.

PROMPT: Pick a Pedge Daddy character - Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Dave York, etc. (it can be Canon or Non-Canon/AU/No Outbreak).

PPCU Daddy is surprised - and excited - to learn that the grad/postgrad student he hires to watch his child sometimes also works as a: stripper/dancer/cam-girl/onlyfans-model/dating-or-escort-service (or straight-up SW) 

*1000 word Minimum - 2000 word Maximum

WC: 4749  (I have a problem)

Frankie’s mouth was hanging open. He knew he should close it. He knew he looked like a weirdo. He knew he was about to get a “Catfish, lookin’ like a fish” joke from his friends. But for the life of him he couldn’t take his eyes off the stage, or close his gaping jaw.

Not since his babysitter walked on stage and started taking her clothes off.

To be fair, you're not his babysitter anymore. Not since he called you three weeks ago asking if you could babysit for him tonight and you broke the news to him that you'd gotten a new job and couldn't babysit anymore. At least now he understands why you left the not-so-lucrative world of babysitting for an arguably better-paying gig. 

You've only been dancing for two minutes and he already sees more money on the stage than he would've paid you to sit his kid tonight. He’s been watching as you undulate your body across the stage, bending and dipping, stripping down to your underwear. Even though part of him thinks he should, he definitely doesn’t look away when you divest yourself of your lacy little bra.

He always thought you were hot. He was a newly-single dad, interviewing you for a semi-regular babysitting gig. He tried to focus on your resume and your qualifications. He tried to breathe through his mouth so he couldn’t smell your delicate perfume. He tried to ignore the dewy pink lipgloss you had spread across your mouth, which is in stark contrast to the bright red lipstick you are currently sporting.

He was very motivated by the fact that you, as a graduate student in your mid-20’s, seemed more responsible to leave his kid with than the other applicants to his babysitting ad, all of whom were literal teenagers. But truth be told - you were also really fucking hot. Horny dad and the hot babysitter, what a fucking cliche he was.

However, in the eleven months you babysat for him, he never acted on his inappropriate attraction to you. He never treated you as anything other than an employee. You’d show up to his house, hair in a messy bun, wearing comfy clothes, ready to sit on the living room floor all evening playing with his kid. He was polite, and respectful, and was almost positive you never caught him staring at your tits.

Your tits that he’s most definitely staring at right now. Holy shit you have great tits.

“Fuckin’ A Fish, if you’re gonna keep your mouth open, you could at least pour some beer into it.”

“Huh?” Frankie snaps his head back to the table he’s sat at, surrounded by his friends. They all chuckle. 

“We’re about to order the next round and you didn’t even drink any of that one yet,” Benny says as he points to the dripping bottle in Frankie’s hand.

Oh, sorry, Frankie mumbles as he pushes the now-warm bottle to his lips and begins to drink the beer down, his eyes moving back to the stage. The entire club is lit only by colored lights that coordinate with the twirling lights and lasers pointed at the stage, pulsating to the tempo of the music you’ve picked. Fog rolls across the floor of the stage, cascading over the edge. 

There’s a single golden pole at an outcropping of the stage that you’re now gripping with both hands, sticking your ass out towards the audience and giving it a wiggle. You let go of the pole and hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties. You slowly begin to push them down and just as the crack of your ass comes into view Frankie momentarily forgets that he can’t swallow liquid and breathe at the same time. 

He begins to sputter and cough, choking on the bubbly liquid and spurting it across the table onto the faces of half of his friends. He’s met with groans, curses, and several swats to the back of his head as he attempts to get his wheezing under control, and the fluid out of his trachea.

Santi, who somehow managed to avoid Frankie’s beer-foam projectile, slaps a palm on Frankie’s shoulder and says,

“Guys, Frankie’s real sorry, he’s just never seen a naked woman before.”

The laughter at Frankie’s expense serves as some form of forgiveness, and everyone slowly goes back to flirting with the wandering dancers and ordering their second round. Santi keeps his hand on Frankie’s shoulder and leans into Frankie’s personal space.

“You alright?” Santi asks, squeezing his friend’s shoulder firmly.

Frankie manages to mutter a strangled yeah before several rounds of trying to clear his throat. The lights have dimmed, sinking the club temporarily into a hazy darkness. He briefly registers that the song you were dancing to has ended, so you’ve most likely left the stage.

Santi laughs, shaking his head. He moves his mouth right to Frankie’s ear, almost whispering.

“When I convinced Will to have his bachelor party at this club I thought you’d be the one making your hot babysitter choke, not the other way around,” and he claps Frankie on the back hard, “if you know what I mean.”

Frankie’s eyes go wide as he meets Santi’s crooked grin, but his friend offers nothing more as he moves to the other side of the table, turning his devilish smile on the waitress. He orders two beers and three shots for each man, dismissing the groans of protest from the table. Bachelor Down!, he shouts at Will as everyone does their shots and chases them with cheap beer.

You approach the table full of men with seven other dancers, each of you assigned by the club to give a 20-minute private dance to one of the members of the bachelor party. You’re each in various states of dress, but most are only half-dressed. You’re back in your lacy underwear set - panties and bra - but the sheer nature of the fabric leaves little to the imagination. 

Your previous job as a part-time nanny worked while you were an undergrad. When you started law school it became too much and you had to switch to more infrequent evening babysitting gigs so you had your days free for school and studying. Unable to keep up with school payments you recently had to find something new. Something that only required night and weekend availability, but paid really well.

Enter: Stripping. 

You’ve only been doing this job for a little over a month but you’d quickly gotten very comfortable with being naked in front of strangers. You had your little dance routine and could easily make flirty banter with the club’s customers. Your boss was impressed enough that he’d started assigning you party gigs with some of the other girls, like this bachelor group.

You walk up to the group of strangers, the rest of the girls fan around the table as you’re left standing just behind a broad-shouldered man with a baseball cap on, curls sticking out from under the back strap. You turn to the man with a big smile on your face.

Holy Fuck. 

Not a Stranger.

It’s Francisco Morales. The hot dad you until-recently babysat for.

He looks at you sheepishly. Your hands immediately fly to cover your breasts, suddenly mortified that your nipples are showing through your nearly-transparent choice of outfit. 

“Mr. Morales!”

“Oh I- I already,” he begins to stutter. Is he telling you that he’s already seen your tits? 

You look around at the collection of empty beer bottles and shot glasses on the table and figure that they’ve all been here for much longer than just your dance. So covering your nipples does nothing for your modesty as hot dad has probably already seen everything. You drop your arms to your side, attempting to look relaxed and casual.

“So I-uh. I guess you found a babysitter for tonight.”

He laughs. He actually laughs at your awkward attempt at diffusing the tension. Thank god. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can say anything one of his friends is speaking to the group. He explains that “everyone gets a private dance” and no one can object - and he looks right at Mr. Morales when he says this - because “it’s all been paid for already.”

Following the lead of the other girls you gently grab Mr. Morales’ hand, missing the looks back and forth between him and his friend. You do your best to confidently lead him back to the private rooms with the rest of his group. There are a dozen rooms in the hallway and eight of them have been held in reserve for this bachelor party group. Pulling him inside the last room on the right, you close the door behind you. 

The room is dim, save for the red glow of the lights. The ceiling and floor are both painted black and the three walls without the door are mirrored. Towards the left is a single high-backed black leather chair facing a brass pole that sits in the exact center of the room. On the far side of the room is a curved loveseat against the wall.

This should be easy. Not just because this is your job but because unlike any other man you’ve ever led back here, this is a man you are extremely attracted to. 

This is a man you have fantasized about.

You’ve imagined his curls between your fingers when you’ve grabbed a fistful of a customer's hair, imagined that it’s his stubble scratching between your breasts when you’ve pressed them close. You’ve envisioned his wide chest as you ran your hands down their front, his massive paws in your hands as you’ve taken their sweaty palms and placed them on your rolling hips. 

You’ve wished they were his thighs that you were grinding your ass onto and his erection that you all-too-frequently felt pressing into you. That should make this easy. But instead you’re super fucking nervous. Even more nervous than your first night here, when you dragged your panties down your legs and bent over, exposing your pussy lips to a packed room of strangers. 

What makes you most nervous is probably that the fantasies didn’t stop in the club. It would be one thing if they were just here, serving as a comfort, self-soothing by putting a familiar face in place of a groping stranger’s face. But that’s not the truth. You’ve imagined him at home too. 

In the shower, pretending your hands were his hands as you pinched and plucked at your wet nipples. Daydreaming about his weight on top of you, fucking into you, as you drove one of your toys in and out of your wet cunt. 

And if you’re being perfectly honest, you can admit that it’s been going on for almost a year, since shortly after he hired you to be his babysitter. Remembering the times you’d made yourself come on his couch, hours after his kid had fallen asleep, waiting for him to return home from a night out with his friends. Your hand stuffed down the front of your pants, petting your clit to the thought of him on his knees in front of you.

You never thought you’d actually be naked in front of your fantasy-DILF. This is like being slapped in the face with your own wet dreams. This is kind of a nightmare.

“Listen, you don’t have to-” he begins just as you start to speak as well.

“Mr. Morales I know-” and you both stop and let out breathy, nervous laughs.

“C-Can you please stop calling me Mr. Morales?”

“Oh sorry! Is that weird?”

“It sounds like the start of a bad porno,” he groans, laughing again. “Please just call me Frankie.”

“Of course, I’m so sorry Mist- Frankie. Sorry. Frankie.”

You both break out in laughter again, loudly this time, hoping to finally diffuse some of the tension. A knock sounds at the door and a deep voice - security - asks if everything is alright. You shout back that everything is fine and the room quiets down.

“I should start the music and get going,” you say quietly, motioning for him to sit on the curved red velvet seat against the far wall.

You press a button above his head and music starts up, the first of three songs forming a 10-minute loop that will repeat for this booking. You look into the mirrored wall to your left and notice how nervous you look. Then you meet his eyes in the mirror. Why does he look just as nervous?

You straddle one of his legs and shakily reach back to undo the clasp on your bra. You meet his eyes again. Fuck he can see how your hands are shaking. You look like such a fucking kid. A goddamn amateur. This is going to be the least-sexy lapdance he’s ever been given. 

You can’t stop the gasp that leaves your lips when you suddenly feel his hot hands covering yours at your back. 

“You can leave this on if you’d be more comfortable,” he says softly, barely heard over the pumping bass of the music.

“No I’m fine, I’m just…” you don’t know how to explain to him without embarrassing yourself but suddenly you’re making an admission and the word-vomit has left your mouth before you can even do anything to stop it. “I just always thought you were hot.” 

There it is. It’s out there now. 

He opens his mouth to say something and your nerves bubble up and come out as more words and why the fuck are you talking more?

“I know, I know,” you spit out before he can get a word in, “the babysitter thirsting after the hot dad, how prosaic, right? Talk about a bad porno.”

His warm hands still touching you, he slowly moves his fingers around yours, deftly undoing the clasp of your bra for you.

“It’s okay, I kinda… thought you were hot too,” his admission slips out in a whisper.

You really want to kiss him right now. But that would be a very bad idea. Security patrols the hallway and the door has a small window towards the top of it. It allows security to peek inside and see from the shoulders up. Usually if they can see your shoulders, all is good. If they can’t see your shoulders, it gives them an idea if rules are being broken or if the girls need help. 

Kissing - among other things - is against the rules.

You barely turn to look at the windowed door but you’re embarrassed to think that Frankie must know what you’re thinking because it’s like he can read your mind. Or maybe he’s just thinking about kissing you too? Either way he puts his hands back down to his sides and lets you lean into him, allowing your bra to slowly shift down your shoulders until it falls into his lap.

Your tits are right in his face. You’re half naked in front of the hot dad whose child you used to babysit. The hot dad who you’ve pictured doing this exact thing with - and more. But he’s not even looking at your tits. He’s looking you right in your eyes and making you feel more naked than you’ve ever been in your whole life.

He shouldn’t be here, not doing this, not with you. He should ask for a different girl. He should tell the security guy to kick him out. He’s making you so uncomfortable, he can tell by your twitching movements and halting breaths. He can’t stop staring at you like he’s some kind of lonely creep, what a fucking weirdo he’s being.

You position your legs on the outside of his, keeping his legs slightly open and his hands obediently face-down on the couch next to him. You’re straddling him but hovering above his lap, seemingly careful not to touch him. When you put your hands on his shoulders to brace yourself you begin to stiffly roll your body towards and then away from him.

He doesn’t know where to look. He can’t keep looking at your face, he knows the eye-contact is getting very disturbing. Why the hell did he tell you he kinda thought you were hot too? At least he didn’t admit the truth, that he thought you were fucking supernova-hot. He’s had to bite his tongue countless times to stop from asking you out.

He focuses his eyes at the hollow dip that lies at the base of your throat. It has a dance of its own, moving slightly with your pulse and rolling with your shallow breaths, the rise and fall of your chest a baseline rhythm. He tries not to think about your bare breasts just below, breasts that he’s thought about putting his hands on every single time you’ve walked into his house for the last year. 

He can see your deep red lips in his peripheral vision, and immediately the image of those lips on his skin is conjured. He pictures a chaste kiss planted on his cheek followed by a less-chaste thought of his thumb pressed into your mouth, your eyes looking up at him while your lips leave a red ring on his hand. He needs to fucking calm down. This is just a dance. You’re at work doing your literal job.

He suddenly notices you’ve almost completely stopped moving. He looks up at your face and you’re wearing a tight, pained expression. His brows furrow. Oh no. What’s wrong? Is his erection noticable? Is he creeping you out too badly? Do you want him to leave? He opens his mouth to ask if you’re okay but you silence him with a gentle squeeze to his shoulders.

“I think I’m gonna die if you don’t touch me,” you squeak out in a strained whisper.

In the back of his head a part of him thinks that he shouldn’t immediately cave. It shouldn’t be this easy. Part of him thinks he should need more than just you saying that. 

But he doesn’t. At all.

He slowly slides his body down the sofa, pushing his frame between your legs. You move your feet apart to accommodate his wide shoulders once you realize he won’t fit otherwise. He stops when his ass is sitting on the floor and his head is just above the seat of the sofa, you towering over him. He reaches down and begins to take off your platform heels one at a time. 

As your bare feet hit the floor you run your hands up your neck, over your face, and through your hair, your knees knocking at his shoulders. Touching you gently with only two fingers on each hand, he pushes on the backs of your thighs, guiding you even closer to his face. He grabs your feet and holds them in his hands, forcing your legs to fold and pushing your knees past his ears as his head rests back on the seat.

You’re kneeling at the edge of the sofa, shins on the cushion, feet dangling over his shoulders, your toes curled in his massive hands on his chest, and his head between your thighs. Your face still looks uneasy, and he can just make out whining noises over the music. High-pitched and breathy, the way a dog would beg for scraps at the dinner table.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna touch you now,” he growls.

You grab the brim of his hat and twist it off his head, immediately diving your fingers into his locks. He squeezes your toes and you take his cue, lifting your hips and canting them towards his waiting mouth. Latching his mouth onto your underwear, he runs his tongue up and down your covered seam. 

He feels you begin to rock your hips into his face, rolling your body above him. Any security who looked in the window would see your shoulders moving to the beat and assume you were kneeling on the couch and giving a lap dance. He can only barely see you from his angle, sees the lace of your panties, sees your wrists grabbing at his hair.

Letting go of one of your feet, he grabs at your wrist, dragging your hand from his head to the front of your own underwear. You run your fingers down yourself, parting them around his mouth, letting his tongue tangle in them. Then you grab the edge of the gusset and pull it to the side.

Wasting no time, he immediately begins to lick at your folds, tasting the wetness that has gathered there. A lot of wetness. Christ, you’re so fucking wet. His nose touches just below your clit and a string of your arousal attaches him to you when he pulls back slightly.

A slight pause in the music has his heart stop and his stomach in his throat. After a couple seconds - that seem to stretch on forever - the first song begins playing again, restarting what must be a looped set of music. 

That must mean this private dance-time is halfway over. Ten minutes left but since you two probably started after everyone else you might not have the full ten minutes of privacy if his friends decide to burst in the door. Which, if they’re led by Santi, is a real possibility.

Less than ten minutes. No problem.

You must also feel the sense of urgency because you adjust your hand that is holding your panties to the side. You take your thumb and pointer finger and move them over yourself, parting your lips to open yourself more to him and pulling up slightly, exposing your nub. He flattens his tongue in response and drags it over your sensitive bundle, noting the way your body trembles when he does so.

He knows he doesn’t have the time to edge you as he’d like to, but he can’t help himself when he moves his head lower and twists his tongue into your hole, thrusting it into you. You are bouncing yourself slightly up and down, helping him fuck yourself on his tongue. He feels your wetness pouring over his lips and dripping down through his whiskers.

He feels your hand leave your own body and tangle back in his curls along with your other one, grabbing two fistfuls of hair tightly in your grip. Having had enough of his teasing you’re apparently deciding to take matters into your own hands.

Frankie loves eating pussy but this? This might be his favorite thing in the whole world.

He angles his head perfectly, opens his mouth, and sticks his tongue out stiffly as you begin to grind your pussy against his face. You’re using his nose, his tongue, his chin, even the bristles of his facial hair. You’re using whatever you can to get yourself off as you ride his face. It takes everything in his power not to break out in a giant smile.

He doesn’t hear you, you’re still being the quietest you’ve been since you got in this room, but he feels it. Shit, does he ever feel it. He feels your body tense, then your legs quiver, feels the pulsing in your cunt as you press yourself firm into his still-open mouth. He gently laps up your gushing orgasm as you release the grip on his hair and whimper softly above him.

Knowing you’re short on time, he has you climb off him much sooner than he’d like you to. Your heavy-lidded eyes meet his and then yours go wide. You bend down and grab his hat, plopping it back on his head and attempting to tame his just-fucked-hair back underneath it. You run to the corner of the room and grab a small robe hanging on a hook, skipping back over and roughly wiping his face off with it the way you would a toddler after a meal.

He quickly adjusts himself, tucking his protruding hardness under his belt in an attempt to conceal it as he watches you adjust your askew panties. Still topless, you throw the robe back towards the corner in a panic just as there is a quick knock at the door. Without a signal to enter the door flies open anyways, no less than three of his friends bursting through the doorway drunkenly, shots in hand for Frankie to partake in.

They make Frankie drink the shots before he even leaves the room and then they drag him away from you, hollering obnoxiously. All he can manage is an apologetic look over his shoulder as he hears the final song finally come to an end. Time’s up. Luckily you’re laughing at their antics and don’t seem to be upset. Maybe you were just flirting with him because that’s your job. Maybe you just wanted a good tip.

A tip! Shit.

Being dragged down the hallway Frankie grabs Santi by the arm and asks in his ear how much he should tip you. Santi says he usually tips $200. Frankie is shocked that a 20 minute dance would garner that big of a tip, but then again it’s been a long time since he’s been at a place like this. And to be fair, you - albeit unknowingly - let him fulfill a long-time fantasy of his.

$200 is more than he would have paid you to watch his kid tonight. No wonder you’re not his babysitter anymore. He fishes around in his wallet and takes out all the cash he has, $236. He manages to break off from the group of guys after they do another couple shots and he looks around for you. 

Unable to find you he spots one of the girls you came to the table with and she lets him know you’re on a break but she can get the tip to you. He hands her the folded bills and she thanks him by leaning in and giving him a peck on the cheek. When she pulls back from him she widens her eyes at him and flashes him a knowing smile.

“I’m sure she’s very appreciative… of the tip,” she winks.

Frankie tries not to blush and resists the urge to high-tail it to the bathroom and wash his face off, opting instead to keep the scent of you on him. He returns to the table of his too-drunk-to-notice friends and finishes out the night of revelry.

.

3:03am

Hey

Hi

3:06am

Sorry

3:09am

You’re probably asleep

3:10am

Hi

I’m just getting home actually

3:11am

Oh cool me too

Sorry to bother 

I just wanted to make sure you got your tip

I left it with your friend

3:14am

I did, yes. Thank you so much.

3:14am

Cool 👍

3:16am

Don’t take this the wrong way…

But how drunk were you tonight?

3:18am

Idk

Why?

What did I do?

I’m so sorry

3:19am

No, don’t be sorry!

I’m not trying to be rude.

I just….

Did you mean to tip me that amount?

3:25am

Oh my god

Was it not enough?

I can give you more

I’m really sorry

Do you have Venmo?

3:27am

No! OMG. It was plenty!

Literally the most I’ve ever been tipped is like 40%

You tipped me 118%

3:30am

Oh

3:31am

Yeah so I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get too drunk

And accidentally just give me everything in your wallet

3:35am

Is that what happened?

3:37am

Because I can Venmo some money back to you

It’s really not a problem

3:40am

Sorry no

I just tipped what my friend told me to

3:41am

Well I checked with the other girls….

NONE of your friends tipped that much

And they were all very generous!

3:44am

But none as generous as you

3:45am

He’s such an asshole

I’m sorry

I didn’t know

I feel like an idiot

3:46am

Again, please don’t be sorry

It was VERY generous of you

And I’m very grateful

3:50am

I was in a giving mood tonight I suppose

3:51am

Mr. Morales, is that you being flirty?

3:53am

Oh we’re back to Mr. Morales now?

3:55am

Can you get a babysitter on Wednesday night?

3:55am

I don’t have custody this week so no babysitter needed

Why?

3:56am

We should go out to dinner

3:57am

Oh we should?

3:59am

Yeah we should

Frankie

4:01am

MY treat

4:01am

LOL I should hope so!

4:02am

Pick me up at 7 😉

4:02am

I will

See you Wednesday

[matrixbearer2024]

Karaoke Cacophony

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: This song is legitimately the reason why I ended up posting the poll that I did lmao- but if you check the lyric translations- it oddly fits the vibe for both Vox and Reader. Though it's only going to embarrass our resident TV man since our dear (Y/N) has absolutely no idea what the song actually means. Just that it sounds nice and it's something they heard over the radio back then when growing up. Vox has a built-in google translate thing so he can understand others better no matter what language, it just so happens that this hits him like a double-edged sword where he has no idea if he would've been better off not understanding the song and just appreciating the melody of your voice. BTW this interlude features an HC I have for Vox where he cooks sometimes because the systematic way it's done helps calm him down, it's inspired by something I read before but yeah- ALSO ALSO- some part kind of features reader being cracked out of their minds with pickup lines I pulled from one of @voxsremotec0ck's posts LMAO.

A/N: Also my cousin has had a HEAVY hand to play in this song choice, though her reasoning was mostly because of Angel's initial comment that watching Vox and Reader's interactions were like seeing a romcom plot unfold live. So why not go a little bit off tangent and relate them to a romantic fairytale? I also may have sorta kinda written a lot of this chapter while I myself was on a hyperactive streak because of some caffeine- Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this interlude and as always- Happy Reading!

After a while and back and forth of those games, you and Vox eventually stopped joining in despite the others still continuing to play.

You and your partner in crime had become preoccupied with laughing at memes or poking fun at whatever stupid trend was currently a fad online.

You were currently leaning against the technology overlord while he had one arm around you, the other using to poke at your phone every now and again.

The two of you were practically cuddling at this point from how close you both were but neither noticed nor even seem to care.

"They have the tidepod challenge too? Geez, people are kind of-"

"Idiotic? Stupid? Batshit crazy?"

"Pretty much."

"This is hell dollface, I'm not sure why you expected any different."

You just casually shrugged in reply, soon laughing at a dumb video you found whilst scrolling.

Vox couldn't help but subtly stare at you, especially when you seemed to be so cheerful just messing around or doing whatever.

Seeing your smile always made his day just a little bit brighter.

"Hey Vox! Stop being absolutely whipped for a second and help me out over here!"

The overlord in question just sputtered in confusion at Lucifer's words.

He wasn't whipped!

He just- admired you a lot.

Even you had raised eyebrows at the odd word choice, whipped- wasn't exactly what you would use to describe your flatscreen companion.

Not when you kind of had an inkling to what it meant.

"What are you even doing??"

Vox called back, finally taking his eyes off you and your phone to just look over in the kitchen's general direction.

Lucifer did mention about making a snack earlier, but why would the king of hell need his help of all people??

What was he planning this time???

"Something! Just get over here!!"

You just gave your companion a shrug when he looked back to you, encouraging him to just go and get it over with.

Besides, you guys could always just continue doing this and messing around when he was finished with... whatever Lucifer needed him for.

Well, that was until your brain immediately stomped on the brakes when you looked at Vox again.

He'd undone his cuffs to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows, revealing some... bare forearms.

Before he just nonchalantly stood up and walked off towards the kitchen when the king of hell called for him again.

He didn't seem to have noticed your shattered mental-

You had dropped your phone at that point, just blinking and spacing out like an idiot before Angel noticed.

"Woaaah, what happened to (Y/N)?"

"Huh, I didn't think we'd ever see them actually speechless."

"Oooh oooh! Does that mean (Y/N) likes bad boys?!"

You shook your head in an attempt to snap out of it but couldn't stop the blush from creeping up your neck.

Oh. My. God.

You were completely in the gutter now-

Similarly to Alastor, you noticed Vox was always wearing long-sleeves or an outfit that concealed any skin at all.

And while it left you wondering what he had to hide, that consequently would lead you to imagine how he'd look like without a shirt on.

Was he just a mess of wires or something?

Did he conceal so much because he was robotic to a degree?

You had no clue how Vox's biology even worked and you didn't know how to ask without sounding weird.

Not to mention how he's able to wear some kinds of shirts given his obnoxiously sized head-

It's just curiosity is all!

You could only slap Angel's hands away when he started cautiously poking you, and you were practically steaming out of your ears from embarrassment.

It wasn't the fact that your flatscreened friend seemed to show some skin that set you off-

It was the fact your brain somehow went autopilot and registered it as HOT.

You were sure Velvette had fashioned him the outfit so it didn't surprise you that Vox looked all dapper and smart.

Dare you even say the fucking TV looked handsome-

You just didn't think he could look any better.

Until he did that.

And consequently nuked the rest of your sanity with it.

"Yep, they're totally broken-"

"Angel shut up before I beat you to death with a pillow I swear to god-"

"Oh good, you're finally reacting toots."

You merely flipped him the bird and just hid your face in your other hand, why was everything in your body trying to go on overdrive?!

"What's got you all blushy anyway? It's like you've just watched a racy porno."

"What?! No! I just- you- I don't even fucking know-"

Angel was about to continue poking at you before Lucifer and Vox finally returned.

Both chatting amiably while holding what seems to be a plate or two of treats and snacks.

So that's where they both went-

And that was when the spider noticed your gaze practically zero in on your techno-centric friend.

Ha, friend-

Yeah nobody in the hotel with half a brain believed that for even a second-

Though there didn't seem to be any differences with Vox-

His outfit was still the same, just his sleeves were...

Oh.

OH.

"WOW TOOTS YOU'RE SUCH A FUCKING PRUDE OH MY GOD-"

You just shrieked incoherently at Angel and started whacking him with a couch cushion while everyone else kind of just watched you both confused.

Not to mention that you were pretty much a tomato from how red you've become.

The arachnid couldn't stop himself from just devolving into a loud laughing fit.

You had completely lost it because of some forearms, he could only imagine what your reaction would be if a certain technology overlord decided to undo some shirt buttons.

You'd probably just die on the spot!

"Uh... what happened?"

"No idea, but it sure as hell is entertaining."

By the time you were able to relatively calm down, you were still red when Vox just sat down next to you again.

"Soooo, any reason for trying to murder Angel with a pillow?"

"None that concerns you."

"Oh come on, it's gotta be something crazy if you don't tell even me."

You just adamantly shake your head and refuse to say anything no matter what Vox tried.

It was kind of cute seeing you try so hard, despite the fact the overlord knew he could always just ask the others about it later.

He didn't think it was anything too big, after all you would embarrassed by a lot of random things.

So he didn't even bother guessing at this point.

"What did you and Lucifer make anyway?"

"Hm? Chocolate strawberries, do you want some?"

"Seriously? That's what he needed help with?"

"I'm just as confused as you are doll, anyway- open your mouth."

Vox just chuckles when you shyly follow his instructions, forcing himself to look away before grabbing one of the strawberries and placing it into your mouth.

He'd be lying if he said the way you looked didn't give him other ideas.

You seeming insanely kissable being just one of them.

While the overlord knew making the treat consumed more time than just going out and probably buying it-

Seeing your eyes sparkle when you bit down made him consider that it was a little more worth it to put in that extra homemade touch.

"Didn't pin you for a guy that could cook."

You remarked, taking the plate from him and just eagerly chowing down.

Vox just chuckled, watching you so happily munch away.

You were just really cute in your own little way, not that he would ever say so.

Especially when you seemed so pleased at just such a simple snack.

"I'm not surprised, I don't exactly... have that vibe? I can cook though, it's something I do on the off chance to calm down."

"And still you eat that McDonald's garbage-"

"It's not garbage! I'm just too busy to actually cook sometimes! Running a media empire isn't easy dollface."

"The next time you do cook, I wanna try your food."

"Hm? What makes you say that?"

"Dunno, just wanna try it."

The overlord simply raised an eyebrow at you, though he didn't seem to mind your words much.

And as you scarfed down on the strawberries, he noticed a smear of chocolate streaking across your cheek.

How it got there- Vox wasn't entirely sure.

Possibly from your enthusiastic eating but he didn't really care enough at the moment to find out.

"Wait, you've got some chocolate on your face."

You looked at your companion with wide eyes when he gingerly raised a hand to wipe at your face.

The way his gaze was both calm and focused at you made your heart skip a beat.

The plate of treats in front of you now mostly forgotten.

"There. Didn't think you'd be such a messy eater doll."

He didn't seem to notice your mind kind of stall, picking up a chocolate strawberry himself to eat it.

It was a little too sweet for his taste, which was odd considering his already innate knack for deserts.

You seemed to like it though, so he didn't say anything.

And that was when Vox also noticed your more than obvious staring.

You weren't even trying to hide it were you?

Admittedly, the overlord got a little embarrassed because of it.

"Take a picture darling, it'll last longer."

"Nah, I think I would much rather look at the real thing. A picture can only do so much."

You smirked when you saw his screen proceed to tinge pink, especially when you heard his fans kick to life.

He never could get the upper hand with you, which was hilariously cute in it's own way.

It didn't take long for you to eventually get used to Vox's charm over the while you've known him.

Even if at times it would strike you when you least expected it.

You simply went back to snacking contentedly.

After a short while, all the treats were gone and you were practically bouncing off the walls with energy.

So what did you do with that sugar rush?

Absolutely torment and flirt the life out of Vox.

Slamming pickup line after pickup line into his already preoccupied mind space.

Well it was preoccupied with you to begin with but let's not mention that-

"Hey Vox- Hey Vox- Hey Vox-"

"What is it dollface?"

"Do you have a bandaid?"

"No...? Why?"

"Because I think I scraped my knee falling for you!"

He buffered a little bit but just played off being flustered with a scoff.

The rest of the hotel crew were not so subtly watching all of this go down just waiting for your overlord friend to crack.

Angel and Husker already made bets on how fast he would go down glitching -

"That was horrible."

"Nah nah nah wait I got another one-"

The overlord didn't really mind it at first, aside from the fact he was a little surprised.

Until the point it got so stupidly suggestive and then he actually had trouble dealing with the provocative ideas he got from you.

"You know, I'm just gonna start calling you my big toe."

"Your... what??"

"My big toe, so I can bang you all over the place."

The overlord had to actually ignore the snickering and hushed laughter from your spectators, why were you doing this to him of all people?!

Though as horrible as the pickup lines were, Vox would be lying if he said they weren't hitting their mark.

He was just... a little better at hiding it.

And that wasn't even the end of your tomfoolery-

Actually far from it.

Vox made a mental note to watch out for your sugar rush episodes from this point onwards.

You weren't ever this bad from what he could remember either-

Well, you would just blitz through nearly everything during a hyperactive episode before the impending sugar crash.

But never tried to flirt the socks off him!

"Are you a fitted sheet?"

"A fitted sheet? What's that got to do with-"

"Cuz you're complicated as fuck but I still need you spread across my bed."

Vox stared at you wide-eyed for a whole ass second-

Before his screen predictably started showing errors and he glitched uncontrollably.

Angel just keeled over from laughter at that point when the overlord's face went absolutely haywire.

He didn't quite bluescreen, but his screen did buffer and spazz a whole lot for a minute or so.

To which you just celebrated and cheered.

"HELL YEAAAAH! I BROKE HIM IN FIVE FUCKING SECONDS!"

That just made your arachnid friend laugh even harder.

You were an unbridled chaotic ball of energy hyped up on sugar-

But Charlie- being Charlie-

Felt a little bad for Vox being the target of your madness- and stepped in and try to direct your hyperactivity elsewhere.

However, because she had done it on a whim- she actually had no ideas what to do with you.

So she just randomly suggested karaoke.

Which seemed to get your attention anyway.

When Vox finally came crashing back into reality, he was surprised to see both you and Lucifer just tormenting a very staticky and clearly very irritated Alastor.

"YOU'RE A LOOOOSER BAMBI- A LOOOOSER-"

What even was that song?

"Huh, you were out for a while."

"What- did I miss something?? What happened?"

"Your hyperactive lover just being a menace to Alastor, other than that nothing much."

"They're not my-"

"Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that."

Vox doesn't even have the opportunity to fully retort before you suddenly ran over to him with a grin.

Apparently you noticed he was fine again-

This time he was just the slightest bit worried.

You were literally shaking from the sugar rush- oh goodness-

"Oh good you're awake! I wanted to show you something!"

Vox didn't have the option to refuse when you just dragged him over to the couch and plopped him down next to everyone else.

"Okay okay! There's this song I used to listen to because I loved the melody and how nice it sounded but I actually have no idea what it means because it's not in English and-"

Safe to say the overlord spaced out during your rambling, only picking up the important bits of your spiel.

Which TL;DR, was just that you had a song you wanted to sing but didn't actually understand.

He only snapped out of his trance when he finally heard your voice slow down to the soft piano melody.

Well, the words you were saying definitely weren't in English-

So Vox secretly decided to translate what you were saying.

Having the internet being an extension of his conscious mind was a little bit of advantage here.

Then he figured out what the lyrics were.

And almost crashed again.

"I've forgotten how long it's been since I heard you telling me, your favorite story~"

He didn't really know whether his curiosity was a good or bad thing here.

Especially when it hit him that this was a love song.

The overlord was absolutely not prepared for this at all.

"I have been thinking for a long time, I started to panic."

Sure, the lyrics weren't exactly a fit to you-

But for him?

Especially when you had still been alive?

A 100% coincidental match.

Or he thinks it's mere coincidence.

"Have I done something wrong~?"

Oh god no do not look at him like that-

Nope nope nope nope-

It took every ounce of control for Vox to just not crash again right then and there.

"You said to me full of tears: 'Fairy tales are all lies.'"

You'd memorized the song, so it made sense that you didn't need to look at the lyrics to sing.

But could you seriously stop looking at him so fondly?

You didn't even know the words you were saying, this was so unfair.

"I couldn't possibly be your prince."

That just made him think back on all the past times he was trying to be... "friendly".

Well, almost borderline romantic even when he was willing to throw down nearly everything for your sake if you so much as asked.

Not that you noticed, Vox doubted you ever would even if it slapped you in the face.

"Perhaps you won't understand- ever since you said you loved me!"

Angel just smirked when he heard the signature whirring of computer fans.

Though he wasn't sure if it was because the overlord got flustered from your singing or because he understood.

Well, it wasn't his problem-

Because it was downright hilarious how insanely oblivious you were.

"The stars in my sky shine brightly!"

Where you were concerned, that was always the case.

Not at the start of course-

But it became adamantly clear when Vox found himself eager to see what kind of chaos you would stir up next.

"I'm willing to become the angel of the fairytale that you love-"

You extended your hand out to him, a silent invite to the tech overlord asking to dance.

He chuckled and smiled at you.

Of course he'd take up that offer.

"Spread up my hands that become wings to protect you~"

The two of you just swayed and danced around to the melody, becoming engrossed once more in your own little world.

You didn't even know what you were singing, but judging by the fond look Vox had directed at you-

It seemed he was enjoying it.

So you continued to indulge him.

"You have to believe, believe that we can be like in the fairy tale!"

You blushed a little bit when he'd twirled you around, after all-

You'd never really danced like this before.

It was like a... different kind of waltz.

Still, it made you feel so dainty.

His gaze just made you feel like the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Happy and joyful in the ending~"

The rest of your friends were amused seeing the two of you pretty much being the plot to a convoluted romcom.

Especially when they realized you and Vox kind of forgot they were actually there.

Charlie thought your relationship was endearingly cute-

Vaggie just reacted like her theory had been entirely confirmed.

Alastor felt like it was kinda disgusting-

And Lucifer nearly decked him for trying to ruin your moment.

Angel, Husker and Nifty were busy placing bets on who between the either of you would confess to the other first.

Though by the time the song ended, everyone couldn't help but groan or facepalm.

"Soooo- how'd I do?"

"It's okay, I'd say there's still room for lots of improvement."

"Oh fuck you Vox-"

"Like you'd ever actually go through with that."

"HA- don't try me you slutty-waisted lanky TV-"

"I've been called worse by better, get creative!"

You were both fucking idiots.

And at this point-

It was like your romantic dance hadn't even happened at all.

[oracle-of-dream]

Boy Toy

Minors DNI

Summary: Yeonjun, the face of Vogue magazine, loves it when you come to visit him. You're the only client he'll allow to see him at his apartment, and the only one he lets touch him the way you like. As long as you keep bringing him things to keep him happy...

Warnings: Model!Boytoy!Yeonjun x Rich!M!Reader, Discipline, Degradation, Yeonjun is materialistic, Unprotected sex, Overstimulation, Rimming & Handjob (YJ rec.), Sub YJ

Wordcount: 1.9k

Your phone chimed in your pocket as you stepped onto the sidewalk. It had been a pretty busy day for you, running in and out of meetings, but the stress instantly melted away when you got the notification.

YJ: Hey, Baby! Are you still coming to see me today?

YN: Yes, Baby Boy, just stay there. I'm going to bring you something today.

YJ: Like what? Any hints?

YN: You mentioned you wanted me to buy you some clothes, so I did.

YJ: Prada or YSL? You know I don't do Gucci anymore. It's not my style.

YN: Not telling. You'll see it when I get there.

You smiled as you put your phone back into your pocket. Yeonjun hated being teased when it came to presents. He'd probably start blowing up your phone, sending slutty pictures of himself to coax the secret out of you. Just more for you to look at.

The valet opened the car door for you as you approached. The driver knew where Yeonjun lived, so you didn't bother telling him where to go. There was a shopping bag in the backseat with you. Peeking inside, were the clothes you'd promised your favorite boy toy. He was going to look delicious in it, even without trying.

As you predicted, the car ride was silent except for your phone vibrating in your pocket.

YJ: Are you ignoring me???

YJ: Baby?

YJ: That's not fair! I wanna show you my photos from my recent photoshoot. Can you please look?

You looked at his messages and could hear the sound of his voice whining and begging in your head.

YN: Okay, okay. Show me.

YJ: Okay, try not to get too hard~

Your eyes popped at his photos.

This was pretty different from the way he described the photoshoot to me...

YN: It's a little more revealing than I thought.

YJ: I guess it was hehe! You should've been there when they started dripping honey all over me

YJ: There was so much honey. And it was super sticky and thick. Super hot really. I complained that I didn't want cold honey poured on me, so they even warmed it. Which just made it stickier. To protect the clothes, I stripped and finished nude.

How would you not get hard from the pictures? But with that image in your head on top!? Yeonjun was covered in warm honey, hands softly spreading it over his body. His feet, his hips, even his cute perky nipples. He must've been moaning like a total slut the entire time.

You were so caught up in your imagination that you didn't realize you'd completely started ignoring Yeonjun.

YJ: Hello?

YJ: Did I break you?

YJ: Or are you mad that all those staff got to touch and rub honey on me? If it makes it better, no one touched me. I dipped my hand in honey and touched myself~

YJ: Only you can touch me like that.

You couldn't look at your phone. Every message was covered in Yeonjun's horny energy.

YJ: Are you beating your dick right now? In the car? Show me!

While you did have a reputation to uphold, that didn't stop you from lifting your waistband on your pants and showing Yeonjun his effect on you.

YJ: Oh~ Another happy toy for me to play with when you get here!

YN: Just wait till I get there, Princess.

You turned off your phone and tried to calm yourself down. Staring out the window for the rest of the ride, but every time you blinked you could see Yeonjun.

Getting to your destination, a tall luxury condo building. It was all black and covered with windows. Yeonjun's room was on the 60th floor. You paid for his apartment so you could always know where to find him. Yeonjun never forgets his obligations to satisfy you as a part of his end of the agreement.

You stride in, moving quickly, the building staff greets you politely but you pay them little mind. The elevator for VIPs was already open and waiting for you. Stepping inside, you swiped your card and pressed the floor number. The elevator moved quickly up the shaft and opened directly into Yeonjun's apartment.

The blinds were open, letting in the sunset through the large windows. The deep brown hardwood floor spread out into the living room; there was a black piano, white couches, and a soft white rug. On the couch was Yeonjun, smiling devilishly at you with a cup of red wine.

He stood and slowly prowled to you, "Welcome home, Babe."

You walked forward to meet him, "I half expected you to be naked when I got here."

"I can still do that," Yeonjun raised an eyebrow as he pressed his body against you. He wore short shorts and a large jacket, giving the illusion he wasn't wearing pants. Pressing his chest against you, he arched his back to let you look down to see he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath his jacket.

"Naughty," You kissed his soft lips, the taste of alcohol and honey mixing on your tongue. "Honey?"

"Yes?" Yeonjun cooed.

"No, you, honey," You patted his head, "I mean, you did eat honey today?"

Yeonjun smiled again, bigger than before, "Maybe? And maybe I saved some for you to have." He looked down to see the bag in your hands, "But first..."

The bag was in his hands before you could hand it to him. He skipped to the couch and laid on his stomach to dump everything out to see it.

A pair of handcuffs, a police hat, and a slutty police uniform.

"Really? Roleplay," Yeonjun giggled, "Didn't take you for the type."

You shrugged, "Seeing you wear all those cute clothes in the magazines made me want to see you in something just for me."

Yeonjun unzipped out of his jacket and slipped out of his shorts. The shirt was small and tight, with the shorts showing off his cute ass. He flipped the hat on his head and spun the cuffs on his finger.

"You have the right to remain silent, sir," He winked.

You laughed at his cute acting, "Actually, the cuffs are still for you."

He looked taken aback, but Yeonjun flipped the switch instantly. He tossed the cuffs at you and sat you down on the couch. "It's kinda backward for the cop to be cuffed," He giggled.

You pulled him onto your lap as you put his hands behind his back, looking into his eyes as you latched them around his wrists. "Well, this cop has been bad. Guilty of being a slut in front of other people, without permission. So now you have to get punished."

You turned Yeonjun to face away from you and lay on the couch face down, ass up. The way he squirmed, he loved every second of you treating him roughly. You ripped his shorts off, the sound of the fabric tearing made him shudder.

The sight you were met with was Yeonjun's hole shiny and dripping.

"What's this?" You stick a finger inside your boy toy, which slides in easily. Thrusting in another finger and fucking him with them, Yeonjun's body shook and pushed against your hand to get deeper. When you pulled your hand away, it dripped with a thick clear liquid. That smelled like honey...

"No way–" You put your mouth to it and let your tongue taste. It was honey, and lots of it invested inside of him. "Is this a surprise for me?"

"Yeah, a super special one~" Yeonjun moaned as you lapped at this hole, drinking and tasting the liquid he's stored inside himself. "E-Easy, if you're too rough..."

You paused, "You'll cum? Like that will stop me from enjoying my gift." You dove back in, holding Yeonjun so he couldn't run away from you and you let another hand stroke his cock that was leaking all over the couch.

He was trying to control himself, but Yeonjun couldn't fight against the pleasure that was climbing inside him. He started to drool as his moans got more frequent and high-pitched, "Please– Oh God! You're so good, I'm gonna cum. Daddy, please–" Yeonjun's voice caught in his throat as his cock twitched and shot cum on the fabric of the couch. It drenched your hand as you stroked him, but you didn't stop until he was almost kicking.

Stopping to let him catch his breath, you stripping.

Yeonjun tried to flip over but you pushed him down on his stomach, his cum sticking to his skin.

"We're not done here," You chuckled as you stroked yourself, using Yeonjun's cum and the honey to slick yourself up.

"I-I think we can break– Just for a moment?" He squirmed but you didn't let him up.

"You were so slutty before. Sending me naughty photos in the car, wanting me to jerk off for you in the car, and even being practically naked when waiting for me to get home." You poke your tip at his hole, "We're not done, at all."

You pushed yourself inside him, feeling the honey coat you as your toy's warm walls closed down on you.

You rub Yeonjun's shoulders as you feel him tense up, "Now, make sure you're strong for me. I don't think I should hold back anymore..."

He couldn't form much of a response, mostly whimpering your name and faintly begging for more.

Who were you to deny your lovely toy what he was begging for. You pulled on his wrists, making the cuffs dig into him, and you harshly plowed him. You could tell you were hitting the right spots from the way his mouth swung open and his eyes rolled.

"Oh? Like that? You're doing amazing, Baby Boy."

Yeonjun's legs wormed their way around you and he arched his back, letting you his deeper. You grabbed his hips to lock him in place and pulled out almost completely before slamming back into him. Knocking the breath right out of him.

"Oh, holy fucking shit– Please, wait a second–" Yeonjun begged.

But you were too far gone to hear him. You moved quicker, "I know you can take it, stay strong for me, Baby." You leaned down, pressing your body onto his back, and kept thrusting, "This will teach you not to slut yourself out to people. Only me. You're mine."

Hearing that sent your toy over the edge. The friction of the couch and you slamming him made Yeonjun cum all over, somehow even more than before.

"You came twice before I got to once?" You bite at his ear, "How unfair. Now I'm gonna fill you up, my little cumdump."

Yeonjun's reply was a strained moan, his eyes sealed shut and his mouth pouring out profanity between moans. Pressing yourself tightly against him, your arms wrapped around him, you released into him with a heavy groan. You rode out your high, still moving your hips, leaving your toy mewling.

You brushed his hair with your fingers softly as he calmed down. Still inside of him, you picked him up and laid him on your lap. His face streaked with tear-stains but he still had his playful smile.

“Always a good time,” he sighed, as Yeonjun rested his head on your shoulders.

“Anything for a toy as precious as you.”

“Am I really just a toy?”

“You think you deserve to be more than that?”

Yeonjun nuzzled into your neck, “We can be more… exclusive. I surely don’t mind.”

“But you still want gifts when I see you, don’t you?”

He pecked your lips, “You know me so well!”

You laughed, “fine then, you’re all mine then. My sweet boy.”

“Now, can you carry me to the bathtub? I wanna bath, and maybe you can wash me.”

Yeonjun giggled with glee as you moved him upstairs for a bath and maybe a second round…

[enkas-illusion]

Double Trouble

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Gojo Satoru x f!reader

Rating: SFW

Genre/Theme: Established relationship; non-sorcery au

Content warning: fluff, suggestive, no smut, language.

Summary: Boyfriend!Satoru with a twin and they're exact copies of each other, down to their mannerism so they often switch places just to test how long it takes for you to figure out you're talking to the other one.

Author's Note: The one where he isn’t the only Honoured one. I hope you enjoy this one shot. Thank you for reading! 

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Say Yes by Loco, Punch

Satoru Gojo was everything you could've asked for in a partner. He was kind, funny, intelligent, sexy, and had better emotional maturity than most men despite being somewhat of a nihilist in his own way – perfect was the word to describe him.

The only problem was that he was a bit too much to handle at times, or dare one say, a bit *too many, – meaning his mother gave birth to him and thought ‘he's perfect!’ so she popped another xerox copy 2 minutes later.

And thus were born Satoru and Soichiro, the most identical twins in the history of twins. The two not only shared the same face but had gained quite some notoriety among friends and family for sharing the same brain cell as well. 

While you had no reason to complain about their flawless personalities, they'd taken a liking to mess with you each time they got together. One would think they'd go easy with the pranks if it's someone they love, right? Wrong! It meant the shit you had to endure was way worse than any other normal friend would have to.

On one such instance, Soichiro tagged along with Satoru after work and it wasn't until halfway through dinner that your instinct went off and you figured out it was the twin who was sitting next to you instead of your boyfriend as usual. Later that night, you'd warned Satoru about it, presenting a solid argument even he couldn't resist.

“You know I almost grabbed his thigh under the table tonight!”

“No, you didn't,” Satoru scoffed.

“Okay, maybe not. But it’s highly likely that I could've! Ummm… what if one day you return home and I greet you in some skimpy lingerie but instead of you, it’s your brother who sees me, all titties out???” You were grasping at straws really.

“Will you do that!?” His ears perked up.

“Not the point, Toru…”

“Hmm… okay fine, I won't let it get that far,” he assured you. 

“But you'll still continue to tease me?” You huffed and he nodded his head, smiling innocently. You rolled your eyes at him, complaining about how he was the ‘worst’ while he simply gave you a bear hug and a few kisses to make it up to you.

~~~

So, even after being with Satoru for more than a year, you still did not know how to distinguish between the two. The only people to do so in a split-second were his parents. You had once sat the twins down to compare their faces for any tiny details you might’ve missed but you came up short regardless. 

You could only tell the difference by instinct, after having a conversation with them – maybe you were more delusional than you'd like to admit but to you, Satoru's voice held a lot of love each time he called your name.

In an attempt to distinguish the two, you thought you'd successfully managed to get Satoru to dye his hair black with temporary colour last time you went to their family house, only to find out Soichiro had done the same and was waiting for you, waving his arm at you in the driveway with a victorious grin.

So when you don't find the twin greeting you like a devil inviting you to hell this time, you turn to your boyfriend who's undoing his seatbelt.

“Listen to me, Satoru,” you grab his collar to turn him to look at you as you speak in a serious tone, “Please don't fuck with me this time. One of these days, I might really embarrass myself due to your games.”

“I'm betting on it baby,” he grins as he gives you a quick peck before swiftly making his way out of the car to avoid your scolding. You were going to stay at his parents’ country house for a weekend and you could already tell it was going to be a long weekend.

You sigh as you grab your bag and he opens the door for you before pulling the bag out of your hand and holding his hand out for you. It's impossible to be annoyed at Satoru for long when he pulls shit like this.

When you enter the house, Satoru excuses himself to find his father and you make your way to the backyard garden where you guess his mother might be. You smile to yourself when your guess is right.

“How can I help?” You smile, making his mother turn to look at you. She gently puts the shovel down next to the plants she's depotting.

“Hello dear, you've arrived just in time… would you mind bringing the remaining pots? They’re near the window in the reading room,” she instructs and you nod as you make your way back inside.

You walk the long corridor before you reach your destination, making your way to the window where the pots were placed. You lift two in each hand, holding them with care, trying not to drop them or stain your t-shirt. 

“Need some help?” you hear a voice and turn around to see the other twin at the door. The only reason you can tell it's Soichiro is because he's wearing a grey t-shirt and black sweatpants as opposed to your boyfriend who was wearing a purple hoodie and coal grey pants. 

“Hey Sochi, could you pick the last one?” You motion your head in the direction of the last pot, “Gotta move it to the garden.”

He nods before picking up the pot and walking with you, back to the backyard garden. 

“Did you arrive before us? I didn't see your car in the driveway,” you make conversation along the way.

“My car's out for servicing. I arrived with the mothership yesterday when she was in town shopping,” he explains.

“Hmm…” you nod as you stop near the area where the soil has been rooted out of the ground, “here.” 

You motion to him to keep the pot down and he obeys as he leans down to place them there gently. You're busy looking around to find Mrs. Gojo when you hear him speak, “Anything else, princes–”

Your eyes widen as your head snaps back to look at him.

“SATORU!” you gasp at the nickname that accidentally slips out of your boyfriend's name, making you realise it's not his twin.

“Soichiro! Leave my poor girl alone,” the other blondie walks out wearing the exact same clothes. You look between the two as you stare in disbelief, not being able to tell who's who.

You're about to speak when you hear their mom's voice as she moves closer to you, pressing an arm gently around your shoulder, “Satoru… I'd expect you of all people to be nice to her,” shaking her head at the twin standing next to you.

You were right! The twin next to you is Satoru!

“No, it's okay! The best way to deal with them is to avoid both of them the entire weekend,” you give your boyfriend the fakest smile you can muster up as you walk hand in hand with his mother to fulfil your gardening duties.

As it's the only exact identical matching outfit the twins have, they don't mind wearing it all weekend. As the day progresses, you find yourself working your brain full time to notice any difference you can find, but the guys are relentless to the point where even their sleeves are rolled to the exact same length.

And of course, the whole day is spent the way you’d dreaded and almost predicted it’d be like. Later when you’re out on the porch having coffee and watching the sunset with your boyfriend, you notice Satoru has an insect bite on the side of his wrist.

“Toru?” you question, wanting to make sure you have the right twin next to you.

“Hmm?” he peels his eyes away from the pretty sunset to look at you. 

“Kiss me?” you ask softly.

“Wha– is this a test?” He raises an eyebrow.

“You know what, nevermind… I just felt like it cause this is the first time we’ve been alone all d–” your words are cut off by his lips capturing yours. You smile into the kiss as Satoru cups your face, caressing your cheek.

Satoru check completed! You make a mental note to observe his wrist for the mark each time you interact with the twins.

After dinner when everyone's lazing around in the living room and watching whatever reality tv show is playing in the background, you excuse yourself to go to the washroom. Roaming around, you end up in Satoru's old bedroom. It's endearing seeing how you can still find pieces of his current personality, likes, hobbies and interests in bits, plastered everywhere around his room.

You find yourself craving some alone time with your boyfriend all of a sudden so you pull your phone out to text him to come up to his room. You only have to wait a few minutes before you hear a knock on the door.

“It's open,” you say as you place the book that you were holding back on the shelf. With a big grin, you extend your arm out to him and he takes it.

“Hello, darling,” he says in a playful tone and your eyes briefly glance at his wrist. No mark. It's Soichiro. He pulls you into a hug and pats your head.

Fine. If your boyfriend still wants to mess with you even when you’re needy for him, he's gonna get his payback. You decide at that moment – this switcharoo bullshit stops today.

You smile innocently at Soichiro as you pull away, your hands travel up to his chest to push him back till he falls on the bed.

You hop on top of him to straddle him but are careful enough to not actually make any sort of inappropriate contact, hovering above without closing the gap between your bodies. You simply wanted to push him enough to get him uncomfortable and to confess.

You can see the nervousness on his face as he clears his throat to come up with an excuse to get out of this situation without making it awkward, “T-the door’s open, let me–”

“It’s just us Toru… I doubt anyone’s gonna bother coming up to find us anyway,” you purr as you lean your body forward, placing your palms on the sides of his head to support your weight. You start feeling anxious too, you need him to break soon or you’d have to abandon the act, so you persist and whisper in his ear, “You look so sexy, I’ve been wanting to feel you inside me all day, Satoru.”

You cringe internally at your own words. But in that moment, you can see his face get paler than it usually is and you want to laugh at how nervous he looks when he hits his limit at your lewd comments.

“Wait, I’m no–” Soichiro pushes you by the shoulders as he begins in panic, another voice interrupts, pushing the half-open door forcefully, “Baby, wait!”

You feel a large arm hook around your waist to pull you away. As you stumble to your feet, breaking free from his hold, you turn around to see an annoyed Satoru, knitting his eyebrows as he looks at you. He looks more annoyed at himself than at you.

“Satoru?” you question as you bring up a hand to his cheek.

“Yes, baby?” he asks in that loving tone you’re so used to as he wraps his arms around your waist tighter.

You smile as you caress his cheek, trying hard to hold in your laughter, “What… A… Dumbass!”

You burst out laughing as you break free from his embrace and he stares at you in disbelief. You look from him to Soichiro, who’s already stood up from the bed as you hold your stomach, hurting from laughing so much, “That should teach you both!”

“Well then, I’m gonna go watch tv with the only two sensible people in this house,” you wave the baffled twins goodbye and turn around to leave the room. The very next second, you’re taken by surprise when you feel a hand grab your wrist to keep you from moving.

You turn around to see that your boyfriend seems… mad at you?

“Sochi, do you mind? I wanna talk to her alone,” Satoru motions his brother to leave the room.

“Yikes, just keep it quiet,” the twin chuckles in embarrassment as he walks out hastily. You hear the door close behind you before footsteps recede down the hallway.

You look at Satoru, expecting him to speak up. But your boyfriend simply grabs both of your wrists before twisting them behind your back and closes the distance between your bodies.

“Waitttt… is this Toru or Sochi? It is impossible to tell!” your words are dry and sarcastic as you giggle at him.

“Baby, I don’t think you’re in a position to be laughing at me right now,” he towers over you, his grip on your waists tightening.

“But here we are! I told you not to mess with me,” you chuckle as you try to wriggle your wrists out of his grip.

“And I’ve warned you not to press my buttons… or do I need to remind you again?” he grunts as he flips you around, walking you to the bed till your knees hit the edge of the bed, making you stumble on the mattress with him behind you. He brings a hand to the back of your head to press your face down into the mattress and you take this opportunity to try to hold him. He tsks at your movement before moving away from your completely.

You flip your body around to lie on your back and see what’s going on, only to find him rummaging through his closet. When Satoru turns around to walk back towards the bed, you notice two ties in his hands. 

This isn’t how you’d expected your little prank to turn out but you definitely weren’t complaining. However, just as Satoru straddles you, grabbing your wrists, his phone buzzes in his pocket.

“What?” he groans into the speaker.

“Mum’s calling you both downstairs,” you hear Soichiro’s voice on the other end.

You press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing as Satoru groans once again before cutting the call with a ‘be right there’.

“I think god sent a guardian angel disguised as your mom for me,” you chuckle as you sit up, making your way out from under him.

“You’re lucky,” Satoru grabs your jaw, “but don’t get ahead of yourself, guardian angel can't save you past her bedtime.”

You poke your tongue out to tease him, breaking free and springing out of the bed, mumbling a ‘whatever’, walking out towards the living room. 

As you make your way back down the hall, you hear your boyfriend’s footsteps behind you. You smile to yourself as you begin to brew different ideas of riling him up further throughout the night.

~fin~

[htchnr]

03 ★ heartless love crime ❥ ch: no one else will do but you.

➻❥ masterlist. ➻❥ buy me a coffee!

CW ➻ aaron being a jerk again ⋆ mention of sex ⋆ piv ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ creampie ⋆ name calling (slut) ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

SUMMARY ➻ Hotchner laughed on the other side of the line. "You sound sad. He turned out to not be the man of your dreams?" No. He was better. Bryan was the perfect gentleman, which was why you couldn't pursue anything with him. He wasn't Hotchner. WC ➻ 2,7k.

AUTHORS NOTE ➻ hi 😁 this is not a nice series! i want to make that clear!! Hotch is toxic, rude and awful in this. (yet so hot at the same time uhg)

★ - © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫! - ★

➻❥ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫. ➻❥ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫.

Your foot tapped restlessly in the taxi cab. You dropped your head into your hands, cursing yourself over and over. Currently, you were supposed to be ten minutes into the date.

Unfortunately, you were ten minutes late.

Last night, you stayed slumped over the counter for another minute before you cleaned the mess. It was a feat wherein you wet one of your washcloths and attempted to crouch to the floor to clean, but you could already feel a soreness settling in and opted to lay on your side like Rose from Titanic and clean your floor that way. It was about as seductive as you felt, not at all.

Getting back up had been an even greater feat, your groans filled the apartment as you used all your core strength to lift yourself by gripping the counter. It was a sad sight to see. You managed to wipe down the countertop and nearly did your thighs, before deciding the rag was too dirty and tossed it in your laundry. Then, you showered and went to bed. Though, the clock was well past 3 by the time you fell asleep.

You wanted to be up by 9 am to get ready for your 11 am brunch. Instead, you slept through your alarm and woke at 10:30 and the fastest route to the cafe was 20 minutes away. Fine, right? No. You rushed to get ready and were still out the door by 10:50.

The cab slowed to a stop. You leaned forward and paid the fare, before stepping out of the taxi. You brushed your hair down, smoothed down your outfit, did any other last-minute fixes. It wouldn't help, you figured, being that you were late. The best you could do was dress colorful as well as warm, wearing your favorite sweater for this date. You made your way to the building, taking a deep breath to stave off the butterflies that threatened your stomach.

You placed a hand on your stomach the second you entered, only for your eyes to rake over all the heads. It was then you realized you didn't know which of these people was your date. God, it'd be ten times more embarrassing if your date left.

Thankfully, someone called your name from a table in the middle of the cafe. You made your way around the scattered placement of tables and chairs, to come face to face with a handsome man. The one way you would describe his attire was dapper. He wore a sweater vest and that was enough to hold your attention.

He stood from the chair to greet you, the both of you awkwardly standing, unsure of what to do, before he gestured for you to "please, sit" and you shook off your coat. You set it on the back of your chair, sliding in the chair with a polite smile. He returned it with one of his own.

"So," you started, "you're Susan's friend."

"Yeah, I'm Bryan." He nodded, opening his hand for emphasis. "Yeah, Susan got tired of hearing about my single life and she decided to play cupid."

You laughed. "She does that." You cleared your throat. "Uh, I'm sorry about being late. It was-"

"Oh, you don't need to explain yourself." He held up a hand. "Please, I got here a minute ago myself. I almost thought you left already and was about to get up to go until I saw you come in the door."

"That's reassuring." You didn't know what else to talk about, turning to take in the interior of the cafe. "This place feels so cozy."

"Doesn't it? It's on my way to work, so I stop by when I can."

You looked back at him, taking in his features. Dark hair, green eyes, thick, rectangular glasses that framed his round face. You didn't think you could guess his job based on appearance. He didn't carry the air of the people you usually were around. "Where do you work?"

"I'm a pharmacist."

"Oh," you nodded. Not a bad profession to be in, not at all. "And you stop here-oh, should we order drinks?"

"I already ordered."

"You did?"

"Yeah. When I was still holding out that you hadn't arrived yet. I hope you don't mind that I picked a drink for you."

"Not at all." You shook your head, a small laugh slipping past you. "I'm curious now. I like a little surprise once in a while."

"Glad to hear." His eyes flicked to the counter hearing his order. Standing from his seat, he dipped his head to you. "I'll be right back."

You placed your head in your hand, glancing around the establishment. In the pocket of your coat, your phone vibrated. You brought it out, seeing a message from Susan. She asked how the date was going. You sent her a reply that Bryan seemed nice, but your screen transitioned to an icon of a phone with rings rippling behind it. It buzzed in your hand, the name Hotchner flashed in bright, white font.

Your mouth fell open in your hand, but you quickly shut it. He knew you were on your date. You just stared at the screen, mind racing with too many thoughts. The frontmost thought among the rest was to answer the call, but you just set your phone on the table and muted it. The screen darkened but lit up again shortly after. You just held your mouth in your hand, elbow on the table, watching the screen.

"Do you need to take that?"

You looked up at Bryan, slipping back into his seat. In his hand, a drink carrier with two coffees on opposite sides, the other parts of the carrier with two wrapped donuts. He took the items out, sliding your coffee and donut to you, before taking his own. He glanced curiously at your phone.

You shook your head, covering the screen. "It's just a scammer, I think."

He hummed as you stuck your phone in your coat pocket. "Those can be annoying."

"So," you reached for the coffee, reading the label, "chocolate raspberry? That sounds good."

"I hope so. It's my usual." He beamed, watching you raise the hot cup to your lips. You took a small sip, mindful of the heat. His face glowed from your pleased hum. "Good, right?"

"It's more bitter than I would have thought, but still has a sweetness to it." You nodded. "I like it."

The rest of the date ran smoothly. You two opened the packaging for your donuts, iced chocolate with sprinkles over them. It was a nice change of pace from eating alone in your apartment, to have someone to share a laugh with from the frosting that coats your upper lips. All in all, you felt good.

As you both put on your coats and tossed your trash, he held the door open for you to leave first. You smiled from the gesture, unused to this kindness from a man trying to court you. He followed you to the edge of the sidewalk, waving down a taxi. Again, he held the door for you before getting in himself.

"Where to next?" You asked.

"The aquarium, actually." He gave the address to the cabbie, then turned back to you. "Is that alright with you?"

"It's perfect," you said. "It's been so long since I've been to an aquarium."

"Well, you're in luck. They've added new features to this one that I think you'll enjoy."

You took his word for it, engaging in small talk with him about your favorite films. He shyly admitted he enjoyed Star Wars the most, having seen the last movie in theaters as a kid. You waved off his worry and told him it was a classic. He knew how to hold a conversation and had you laughing lightly behind your hand the whole ride. You weren't even mindful of the traffic with him to distract you.

The aquarium was lovely. You took your time through each exhibit, admiring the seahorse exhibit most. In front of the large tank, a floor-to-ceiling glass window provided a view of all the larger aquatic life that swam on the other side. The blue waters reflected over your figures in soft light, waving over your clothes like you were underwater as well.

At one point, you two stopped at the baby ray tank, where you could pet them. You insisted Bryan did it first, a bit scared, but he only shivered when a ray swam under his hand. You laughed at his minute disgust.

"It's not as smooth as I thought," he said.

It was enough to convince you to feel for yourself, standing so close to him. Your eyes were wide once the baby ray swam under you, lowering your fingertips for a good feel, and shivering just as he did. You hadn't expected the texture to be so rough, like sandpaper.

At one end of the room, you both got hand sanitizer and paper towels to dry your hands. You glanced over as a few people yelped in surprise while others laughed. A number of them had wet spots on their shirts as a little ray swam away. You giggled with Bryan when he mentioned that could've been you two.

At one point, in a dark room, surrounded by moon jellyfish, you were next to him. He said something you didn't quite hear but still laughed at, then he turned to you. You turned to him. Both of you were smiling. The smile dropped as he leaned his head in.

Your heart fluttered, eyes half-lidded. You started to lean in too, closing your eyes fully. This would have been perfect.

Except, you imagined another man in his place.

Your eyes shot open, seeing the slicked back brown hair, rather than the dirty blonde hair of Bryan. You shook your head, leaning away and a small sound bubbled up to your throat. This was wrong. You couldn't kiss one man and fantasize about another.

Bryan opened his eyes, picking up on your discomfort.

It was a nice distraction from reality while it lasted. Grounded in reality, you backed away from him, shaking your head. His eyebrows knitted together, confused by your action. Your shoulders hunched, sinking into yourself as your lips pulled down the slightest.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can do this."

He nodded in understanding. "It's okay. We don't have to kiss. If you want, we can take it slow."

"No, I-" You wrapped your arms around your middle, looking down. You couldn't face this kind man. He didn't deserve you. He deserved someone better, someone, who wasn't preoccupied with another man.

The date ended shortly after. Exiting the building, he followed you down the sidewalk, waving a cab down and opening the door for you. He said he'd take a different cab. You bit your lip, feeling bad. "You seem like a great guy, Bryan, really, but I'm sorry. I don't think I'm ready to date."

He bit his cheek looking properly dejected. "I understand." In an attempt to lighten the mood, he forced a smile for you. "I enjoyed the date, nonetheless."

You returned his smile, just as bittersweet. "Me too."

You slipped into the cab and he closed the door for you. As you gave the cabbie your address, you pulled out your phone, seeing the screen light up. You clicked the call button and brought the device to your ear.

"Your date over?"

"Yes."

Hotchner laughed on the other side of the line. "You sound sad. He turned out to not be the man of your dreams?"

No. He was better. Bryan was the perfect gentleman, which was why you couldn't pursue anything with him. He wasn't Hotchner.

"Did you need something?"

"Yeah. Come to the video store."

He gave you an address that you iterated to the cabbie without a second thought. It didn't occur to you until you finished talking and he hung up that you were about to spend time with another man, right after your date finished. You couldn't allow yourself peace of mind for at least an hour before jumping back to Aaron.

He stood next to the entrance, leaned against the wall as your cab pulled up. You approached him, to which he rolled around a sucker in his mouth.

"Took you long enough."

"It's-" you glanced at your phone, well past one, "-the afternoon. You know traffic gets heavy around this time."

"Uh-huh."

You nodded to the sucker in his mouth. "You have another one?"

He sucked on it before he loudly popped it out of his mouth. "As a matter of fact, you can have mine." You didn't have enough time to process what he meant before he grabbed your chin and parted your lips enough to stick it in. A shiver rolled down your spine at the thought of his saliva in your mouth. "I didn't want it anymore, anyways."

You closed your mouth, sucker rested atop your tongue. Tentatively, you rolled it to the side of your mouth, holding the stick between pinched fingers to help move it. He pushed off the wall and entered the automated doors with you on his heels.

To your utter horror, you realized as you delved deeper into the store, Aaron made a beeline for the adult film section. You stopped several feet away, mouth shut tight and eyes wide.

He glanced over at you. "What are you standing there for?"

"I, uh..." You glanced from him to the label above the shelves. "What do you need from here?"

"Figured that'd be obvious."

You still had yet to move. "Um."

"Don't be a baby." Hotchner frowned just the tiniest bit, hardly bothered by your shyness, but wanting to make a show of how childish you were acting. He made a 'come' gesture with his hand, placing it on his hip. "Nobody's even paying attention."

"Yeah, but-"

"You'll make it weird by standing over there. Come here."

You sucked on your teeth, tongue flat on the roof of your mouth. You crossed your arms but made your way over to him, gaze locked on the carpet floor under your shoes to not make any eye contact with the other customers.

"There, was that so hard?" He said as you joined his side. Your gaze flickered up at the covers, scantily clad people in suggestive poses. Heat pooled in your belly and rushed to your cheeks, body aflame with embarrassment.

"I don't want to hear it." You pouted.

He scoffed, scanning the rows from top to bottom, taking a step back the lower he got. He hummed to himself at the selection. "You ever watched one before?"

You kept your gaze on the side of his face, to his sunglasses, not comfortable looking at the covers in a space where others could judge you for standing there. "No."

He tapped his fingers on his hip, turned to you, and cocked his head at them. "You pick."

"What? No. You pick it."

"I want to see what you'd be interested in." He smirked.

You let your eyes slide over to the shelves. You couldn't deny you were curious, just a bit, but you didn't want to be the one to decide. That'd only cement this all for you.

"What makes this any different from doing it yourself?"

You pouted at him. "I don't want to watch someone else."

He gave you a long stare, the corners of his mouth twitching. It was a short minute of his staring, before he broke into a smile, snickering to himself. "I'm just fucking with you."

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over you, body alert and rushing with blood. All you could manage out was a shocked, "what?"

He walked to the other end of the video store to the counter. The teen behind the counter looked up from their magazine as he gave his name. He reached under the counter and pulled out a movie cover for some martial arts movie. Hotchner nodded to the kid and promptly left with you in tow like some kicked puppy.

"That wasn't funny," you said outside of the store.

He shrugged. "It was a little funny."

You only shook your head and pushed the sucker to the other side of your mouth.

Aaron went home with you. No surprise there. It should've been expected that, as the door closed behind him, he was glued to you and whispering dirty things in your ear. He said something about the adult films, something you didn't catch but was sure that anything spilled out of his mouth would be pure filth.

He didn't say anything about your date as he set his movie on your kitchen counter. You didn't think of your date as he undressed you in your bedroom. The day's events spilled to the back of your mind as you both fell naked onto the sheets.

The only thing that filled both your mind and body was Aaron. His muscles, his dick, his breathy moans that fanned your face. He kept his gaze locked on you while he fucked you. The headboard banged hard into the wall, but it was background noise to the sounds of your skin slapping at your pelvis.

You arched your back, gripping the sheets tightly. He had one hand on the headboard, his other arm wrapped around your thigh. You had one leg over his shoulder for better access, for him to hit you deeper.

He called you his slut, you said you were his slut. He called you filthy things, things that only spurred you on. Your body burned in a lustful shame, but you could only moan and cry and let him say those things. It didn't matter if they were true or not, it came from his mouth and that was all that mattered.

You managed five orgasms, probably a new record, before he came inside you. Breathless, slumped on the bed, your leg slid off his shoulder as he crawled off of the bed. He took out a cigarette and sat on the edge of the bed to smoke. Your head lolled to the side and you thought about opening the window after he left.

It was still light out, but you were overcome with fatigue. Sweaty, filled with cum, you had barely rolled over, bringing the comforter over you from the side and closing your eyes. You were asleep before you could hear Hotchner leave.

You dreamt of a man kissing you.

[estro-gem]

Jax x Ragatha: The snake and the water spring

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis.

Author's note: I found this show by chance and I took a great liking to it! So now I did a thing, instead of studying for upcoming exams, because I love making things difficult for myself, apparently.

I have no idea what the fandom is like, but I'm playing it safe just to be... well... safe. I just loved the concept of this show so much that I couldn't help but be inspired by it! It got me thinking and I let it all out in this... thing.

I want to write more one-shot fics about the other characters and how they fit into this au too, but I don't know when I'll be able to.

WARNING! None of these characters are mine and everything mentioned and described is purely made-up fiction; inspired by works that are not my own. Nothing should be considered canon or taken seriously - we are all here to have some harmless fun! No age restrictions. I think this might be appropriate for all ages...?

Please show some love and support for Gooseworx; the creator of The Amazing Digital Circus!

I definitely butchered Gooseworx's characters by adding unnecessary 'relationship dynamics' and deviating from their original personalities. I promise that the actual show and characters are so much better than they are in my false portrayal of them.

SUMMARY:

A fanmade take on the events following Pomni's arrival and after the crew had dinner together. This is focused on Jax's point of view, but still written in the third person.

Jax confronts Ragatha after the pilot episode's 'dinner' and does his best to comfort her in a way that works for them. That's it.

Please enjoy!

THE SNAKE AND THE WATER SPRING

Jax was a desert snake.

Nothing but a cold-blooded pest that lived to find his next meal.

When one is left to die under the scorching sun, you can’t stomp on the sun for creating a desert, but you could stomp on the desert snake if it added to the pain of surviving in said desert. The Digital Realm was nothing but a desert sun – a cage with no exit and an evil with no target.

It was no secret why so many had lost their minds here.

Jax took on the role of being the snake. It was never announced or planned, but it was deemed necessary by all who came to know the realm. The inhabitants of The Amazing Digital Circus craved any sense of control; something they could hold accountable for their torment – something they could punish. A menace, parasite.

Evil with a target: Jax.

It was fun to act out while everybody went about their lives. He could unapologetically be the worst being known to man and thrive on the rage and hatred of all he had affected. If they hated him, he was fulfilling his role perfectly… and that meant they could stay sane and do their parts as he did his. Less people would be lost to insanity… and the group would grow stronger.

Everyone had a role in their system – an oasis was established, with Ragatha as the heart of the oasis; their very own water spring.

But when a new invading creature bursts into the oasis with no knowledge of this system, their system would be doomed. Pomni happened to be that invader. Everyone could collectively, yet silently agree that she was acting by her own careless devices since she arrived a few hours ago. She greedily soaked up their water source and left it barren, dry, and suffering.

Granted, Pomni didn’t know how their oasis worked, but it didn’t change the fact that she disrupted everything by showing up. She would have to catch on quickly and prove herself useful, before anyone else loses their minds.

They lost one of their own already… and they almost lost their beloved Ragatha; Jax’s equal and opposite.

Their precious water source.

Snakes offered venom, while water springs offered hope of life. They all desperately needed Ragatha to survive. While most would assume her to be fine after being fixed by Caine, Jax knew better than that. He saw her reluctantly stand aside Pomni to support her – beautifully acting within her role as she always would, but it was clear that Pomni still didn’t understand how scarce the water was by then. Rags was spread thin enough by handling the extra stress and enduring the continuous pain of being corrupted by the abstraction, but that didn’t stop Pomni from practically having a mental breakdown at the dinner table.

Jax saw that coming from a mile away. Thank goodness he silently took the open seat next to Pomni, silent in his insistence that the ragdoll should keep her distance for the time being. He’d give anything to destroy the little jester for abusing his doll. Ragatha was acting perfectly normal at the time – her masked smile perfectly set on her face – until it was time for them all to retire to their respective bedrooms.

Jax wished that he would’ve just dragged her after him when he booked it from the abstraction earlier today. Pomni would have been the perfect distraction for them to escape and get Caine.

He stood at Ragatha’s door after dinner.

Jax made a point to ring the doorbell this time. Usually, he’d just pluck out a key and saunter in like he owns the place, but with what happened today, he’d make an exception. Everyone has their limit – and someone has already reached their limit today. They couldn’t risk losing another one. Especially not Raggs. They all really needed her.

When she didn’t open, he tried the bell again. Nothing.

Well, time for the key, then.

He shoved his hand down his front pocket and fished out the doll’s room key. The bunny didn’t waste time opening the door. He wanted to see what state the girl was in, despite dreading the possibility of finding an abstracted amalgamation on the other side.

Silence.

Not even a creak was heard from the hallway. The room was lit up as it usually was, so that was a good sign, at least. Jax couldn’t see an obvious black body of eyes – another win. But where was Ragatha? He did see her walk into her room, so she had to be here.

He walked around, keeping his cool, casual composure fixed, despite no one being around. It was effortless at this point. It became a way for him to focus on what he could control in this crazy digital prison; himself.

He couldn’t, however, control his ability to spot a blasted ragdoll, it would seem. He scanned the room again, until his eyes fell on her ¾ bed. Could she-?

The bunny rolled his eyes at himself as he lowered himself onto his knees – maybe he could convince himself that he was not phased by the situation. Bending down, he peered beneath the bed frame.

Jax sighed in exasperation. Or was it relief? Both?

Ragatha was in the state she was in before retiring to her room. No gliching, no extra eyes.

Just Raggs.

She didn’t look good, though. The doll was curled up beneath her bed and blindly staring ahead of her. It didn’t look like she was breathing – not that they needed to anyway, but it was uncanny to see Rags like this. She was their voice of reason. She was a water spring in this desert.

If she dried up, their desert would be doomed.

Jax silently stood up and walked back to the open door again. No need to make a fuss over this. He took hold of the door handle and shut it from the inside. Key in hand, he locked the door and nodded to himself. Ragatha needed a raincloud… and he’d have to fill that role now. It’s the least he could do after leaving her to fend for herself when they found the abstraction today.

Why didn’t she run with him? Why did think she could fix someone whose mind was broken beyond repair? Why didn’t she just leave the rookie as bait?

Because that just wasn’t her role, was it?

If it weren’t for her nature – her role – none of them would have made it this far. It dawned on Jax, once again, how close they were to losing their beloved doll. How close they were to being stuck with an invader who knew nothing about what it took to survive in this hell hole.

Enough.

Back to the bed, crouched down and silent Jax positioned himself to lay down and simply look over the red head from a relative distance. There was enough space for the doll to crawl out of hiding without having to touch him. The bunny still hadn’t said a word. It’d be stupid to talk, and he didn’t feel like making the effort. He just wanted things back to normal again – well… as normal as it could have been.

Now Kaufmo is gone, a new creature was invading their home, tearing it up from the roots and tipping the delicate scales of the balance they worked very hard on creating. All because of a lunatic ringmaster having the bright idea of creating a fake exit-door. Someone better get that jester on a tight leash to get her to fall in line, like the rest of them were forced to.

He knew he, for one, wouldn’t mind roughing her up a bit. It was his specialty – his role. The parasite. The menace. The instigator.

Evil with an actual target.

The sound of shifting and movement had Jax blink out of his own head. Ragatha was slowly and dumbly making her way out from under her bed. Her eyes were still fogged over and her face still eerily blank, but at least she came out of hiding out of her own will. In a matter of seconds, the doll was out from her hiding place and settled on the floor beside Jax. She was staring him in the eyes now, waiting for the bunny, silently pleading.

Jax hadn’t had his aloof-douchebag persona engaged since he locked Ragatha’s door. She didn’t need a menace now – she needed to be grounded; revitalized. She needed a dark raincloud to fill up the water spring they all needed.

He didn’t look forward to what needed to be done, but he wouldn’t allow anyone else to do it.

He moved to stand up and held out a hand to help her up. He took note of the way her hand was shaking when she took his and gently guided her to the bed. The red head was the first to sit, then moved to lay down on her back and numbly stare at the ceiling. With a deep breath, Jax gathered himself mentally and cautiously crept onto the bed and positioned himself to briefly hover over her, before lowering his full weight onto Ragatha.

He had his head in the crook of her neck, on the left shoulder with his ears folding back to floppily droop to his upper back… with his left hand resting on the opposite shoulder. His body, although slim, enveloped hers and caused her to sink slightly into the mattress. His legs just loosely laid over and aside the ragdoll’s. It was more important to have his weight resting on her torso anyway.

For a long moment, they just motionlessly laid on the bed like this. To an outsider, it would look like they fell asleep atop each other or simply cuddled together very closely.

An outsider wouldn’t see that Jax was focused on the slow process of Ragatha’s body relaxing under his weight and her breathing slowing to a regular rhythm. An outsider wouldn’t have known that this was hardly the first time they’d done this – how long it took Jax to learn that this make-shift deep-pressure therapy was the most effective grounding technique for Ragatha to collect herself again.

They wouldn’t understand that Jax didn’t do this out of wanting to, but rather out of necessity.

Jax didn’t like to be touched. If anything, he was very capable of merely tolerating it. Everyone in the circus knew that he was touch-averse; some even used that as leverage to mess with him if the situation called for it. It was a necessity that he endured to keep his doll sane – to keep anyone of importance here in the circus, sane. Their whole lives revolved around mental strength. It was all just a matter of staying sane.

The laid there for what felt like a lifetime.

Slight shifting beside Jax alerted him that the doll was moving her arms – previously stiffly pinned to her sides. This was good, she felt comfortable enough to move around now!

Her left hand gently snaked up to the bunny’s head and slowly, softly petted his ears in a longitude motion. Her right hand wrapped loosely around his middle-to-lower back – motionless. This was bad, Jax did not like being touched like that!

While he was fine with the rhythmic touches of Ragatha’s left hand, he despised the idle position of the right hand resting on his back. He couldn’t prevent himself from tensing up in discomfort.

Bad touch, bad touch, bad-

This caused the ragdoll to tense up and rip her hands off him as if he burned her.

Oh no you don’t! We are not starting all over again.

He slowly pulls away and propped up unto his elbows, hearing Ragatha’s breathing pick up as she presumably spirals into her own thoughts on how he was going to leave her like this. Jax cast down a disapproving look. He broke his gaze to unceremoniously take her right hand – now clutched close to her chest – and intertwined their fingers, before resting his head on her left shoulder once again. He close eyes as he use his free hand to put her left hand on his head again, waiting for her to resume her petting.

Good touch; this was a good touch. Please understand.

Thankfully, Ragatha relaxed… and continued her previous slow, rhythmic motions. Slowly, Jax felt her relax once again and he indulged into her need for touch by stroking his thumb over hers occasionally.

Soon they fell into a rhythm; Ragatha would pet Jax’s ears 3 times, then it was his turn to stroke his thumb over hers. Then they would repeat the routine. This also helped Jax cope with the touching; the routine. The rhythm.

It felt like hours ticked by as the two just practiced their little unspoken routine. Jax grew used to it after a while, almost forgetting that his new mattress was now a sentient ragdoll and completely tuned into their rhythm of touches.

Pet… pet… pet… thumb. Pet… pet… pet… thumb.

Jax didn’t like touch, but he loved routine.

The doll and the bunny’s time together, once nothing but grounding techniques, grew to become an intimate exchange of touches and caresses – all wrapped in a routine, like a dance. Jax felt warm and fuzzy inside; for once he basked in the moment of enjoying his dolly. He lazily wondered if Ragatha felt the same. He shifted his head to look at her.

The doll looked down to meet his eyes when she felt him move. He could swear that she looked at peace, basking in the bliss of their closeness. For some reason, she looked like an angel. They all saw her as their angel. Had he successfully pinned a heavenly body beneath him?

Her gentle, longing gaze made a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupt from his core.

This wasn’t the first time this feeling invaded his being when they did this – as rare as these moments were. He wasn’t sure when he started experiencing such feelings during these rare encounters, but as months crawled by, he felt drawn to his dolly more and more. Based on how she looked at him, he could only assume that she felt it too.

Something so foreign, yet so familiar.

He didn’t fail to spot the warmth rushing to her cheeks when their eyes met. She looked so ethereal beneath him, especially when her breathing picked up under his firm gaze. Her lips were parted, and her eyes were lidded. This time, it wasn’t fear or overstimulation. It was anticipation. It was desire.

Jax internally flinched at the tingly sensation when he smoothly burrowed his face into Ragatha’s neck. She shivered at the breath he let out against her skin. He could tolerate the touching a little longer, as long as he could see her crumble again. He wanted to see her walls crumble again.

“Jax- ”

Oh… he had to hear her again. More clearly, next time. This was torture, but she made him into her own personal masochist. His skin crawled at the sensation of her skin shivering against him, but he needed more. He could take it. Just a little longer – he just had to stand these sensations a little longer. He looked at her again.

Ragatha was reverting to a helpless puddle. The doll’s arms were gripping at the covers beneath her, successfully eliminating the bother of excessive contact that he despised. Jax didn’t know if she did it with that intension or without thinking, but either way, he was thankful. He really wanted more.

Why couldn’t he just be normal?

He lifted onto his elbows again and – dare one say – lovingly looked at her face. She could only peek back at him, breathing slightly faster than usual. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shaky hand rise from the covers and hover next to his cheek, while her eyes pleaded for his mercy. He hesitated but bit the bullet to comply; leaning into her touch while desperately trying to ignore the odd tingles. Jax convinced himself to kiss her wrist and drowned himself in the pleasure of hearing her softly call his name.

He only heard it because he was listening so closely for it.

Yes.

DING DONG

In a flash, Jax braced himself up into a crouch and slammed his foot down with a mighty THUMP upon hearing Ragatha startle into a fit when the doorbell chimed. His hair on his back stood on end and his claws ripped through his gloves, leaving gouges in the covers beside the doll’s head.

His precious doll was disturbed again!

He heard her soft cry of fear and his blood boiled with a thirst for vengeance. Only he can make her cry out. He’ll skin the soul that dared to-

“Ragatha…? Can we talk?”

That DAMN jester!

“Jax?” a quiet voice trembled in his ear from beneath him. Jax stopped glaring at the door to softly glance down and see what his little doll wanted.

“Don’t…” Raggs sounded like she was begging while being held at gunpoint, whispering despite their rooms being enchanted to not hear anything from the outside when the door is shut.

Jax wouldn’t dare let that thing inside. Raggs was upset enough as it is.

“Look, I know it probably wouldn’t make a difference…” Pomni’s voice came from the other side door again, “…but I’m so sorry for running off… Again… I saw that exit and I had to see if it was real. No one else believed me and I started to think that I was losing my mind. You understand that, right?”

Jax placed both his hands down on the mattress, blocking the doll’s view of the door as if it could block the sound of the voice from reaching the Raggs’s ears, still hovering over her. He knew that his dolly didn’t want to hear anything the harlequin had to say now – he had half the mind to get up and bash the newbie’s head in.

“I hope we can talk about this some time. You are probably tired after such a long, crazy day.” Pomni’s voice died down near the end, “It feels like you’re the only good person here.”

She really is, but she’s too good for you. Selfish leech.

Jax looks down to the girl, still stiff as a board beneath him. Her eye was shiny with the swell of tears. He melted at the sight – anger simmering down. She was just a sweet little rag dolly, she didn’t deserve any of this, but oh, he was so happy to see Ragatha finally emote something again. She was OK again. Their water source was filled once again, now threatening to spill over. He’d happily welcome the flood.

He needed her.

The sound of fading footsteps causes Jax to rip his eyes to the direction of the door. His hearing was better than the dolls, probably thanks to being a rabbit.

Good riddance.

Ragatha seemed to relax at the sight of Jax deflating his stance, reading that Pomni probably left her door. She hesitantly reached up to cup Jax’s cheek. Jax followed her hand’s motion and scoffed, cringing at the invasion. He’s had enough touching for a week. It sucked to leave his doll so soon after being distressed again, but he couldn’t bring himself stand any more of this. He quickly got up and smoothed out his clothes, but not without missing the flash of hurt in the doll’s eyes. He felt bad, but he had to be strong with the new girl around, so straining himself now would only make matters worse and mess up the whole system.

Still, seemingly bored, Jax stood in his spot while rocking on his heels and looking off to the side, only sparing her a glance. Raggs sat up by then. She looked a little worse for wear, but it’s an improvement from hiding under her bed. She rested her elbows on her knees with her chin in her hands. The hurt in her eyes was long gone, but she looked tired. Poor thing, Jax shared the sentiment.

He felt her eye bore into the side of his face and the bunny couldn’t stop himself before he rolled his eyes and looked to her again. He could’ve choked on air when he saw her face, but the years of steeling his demeanor left no trace of his inner turmoil.

Raggs sported that longing look in her eyes again.

They were so close this time – closer than they’ve ever been before. Each time they spent together on nights like this, although few and far between, they grew closer… and hungrier. Neither understood what it was, but they never had the chance to just collapse into it, tonight being the closest to that.

But there was always something, right?

Jax allowed gaze to soften. His doll offered a small smile that almost ripped his heart out if his chest. It was drenched with melancholy of something she knew they could never have.

Because their roles in their little ecosystem didn’t allow for it to ever be theirs. It would never work.

This was survival.

The rabbit steeled his demeanor once again, but this time, his doll’s face didn’t fall.

Good, as it should be.

Jax walked to the door and fished out the key from his front pocket. He didn’t bother looking back. If he did, he wouldn’t have the will to leave anymore. When he opened the door, though, he couldn’t help but mumble out teasingly.

“See yah later, Doll~!”

He wished that he could shout his affections for her out into the void instead.

“I’m not your doll.” Ragatha responded, voice still wobbly and tired, but perky regardless. She knew just how to indulge him.

Yes, she is… she always will be.

Fanart: Evil with a target

Oasis: TADC AU list

Masterlist

[whatisame]

Bartylus, baby!!!!

Summary: Barty is in jail and Regulus wants to break up with him. Inspired by that one Shameless US scene.

"Barty..." There are no words to describe what Regulus is feeling right now, holding a phone to his ear and looking at Barty through the stained glass.

"I did it myself," he smirks proudly like it isn't obvious with his wobbly R and smudged g. Regulus is going to kill himself. And then Barty. Don't ask how.

What were you thinking?

Why are you making this so hard for me?

"That is not how you spell Arcturus."

"The fuck it isn't." Barty frowns and looks down at his bare chest. "A-k-t-u-r-u-s."

"I think I would know how to spell my own middle name, Barty."

"Fuck. Are you messing with me right now?"

"Are you?! Who the fuck gets a prison tattoo? Do you know what kinds of infections you could have gotten? Did you even sterilize—"

"—So you don't like it, is that what you're saying?"

"Jesus Christ." Regulus runs his hands through his hair, a fruitless attempt at soothing himself. "Whatever made you think that I'd like it?"

"I don't know, Regulus, the fact that it's fucking romantic?" Barty stared at him with raised eyebrows and Regulus resisted the urge to slam his head against the glass. "I was thinking that once I got out I'd have enough practice to make it look better, maybe even move on from the rusty needle. Then maybe I could give you one of my name. Maybe of my face? Definitely of my ass."

"I'm so not doing that."

"I'm kidding! You don't have to get one of my ass. Although, I must say, you're kind of missing out."

"I will not be getting any tattoos in your honor, Barty. It's over."

"What do you mean?"

"You and me. We're over. We're bad for each other, B."

It was startling, Barty's face changing from his usual couldn't-give-a-damn expression to something so solemn. Regulus had scarcely seen it happen over the course of their friendship. He saw it once, when he'd found out about Walburga's anger issues and how she chose to deal with them. And twice, when he'd pushed Regulus away after their first kiss.

And now, obviously.

"You don't mean that," he says gravely.

"I know we're not boyfriends, I know you hate that word but I thought—" Regulus takes a deep breath and makes himself look Barty in the eye. "I know about Evan."

It's funny. How Barty doesn't even try to deny it. Then again, he didn't think he would.

"Fuck," is the only thing he says.

Regulus agrees.

"I just came here to say that, so..." he grimaces, almost hanging up.

"Wait, Reg!" He sees more than hears the words leaving Barty's lips. He picks up the phone again. Barty is silent on the other end.

"What?" Regulus snaps. It irks him how the other boy enjoys making things harder for him. He knew how much this meant for him. How much he meant to him.

"Just–Don't go." Regulus scoffs. "I'll be your fucking boyfriend or whatever. I don't care but— Stay."

"That's exactly the problem, B. You don't care. I like you—"

"—I like you too!"

"Well I like you more! Clearly! I have been at your beck and call for months and you might pretend like you don't notice and everything is the same and we're still the Barty and Regulus from years ago, but we're not. I'm not. I refuse to spell it out for you, B, so read between the fucking lines."

Barty is silent for a long time before he speaks. Something about the shadows lurking in his eyes makes Regulus lean closer. Everything about Barty is magnetic, and he fucking despises it.

"I know," he nods slowly, "I have always known I don't deserve you. This is not me pitying myself, I know I'm a fucking scumbag, I'm proud of it. But Reg. Fuck. If you could see yourself the way I see you... Well, you'd freak out. I'm properly mental." He chuckles half-heartedly. "It's actually fucking annoying having you running around my head all day. Pretty sure my cell-mate thinks so too. Any day now he's gonna stab me in my sleep with my soap-knife—"

"—Your what?"

"It's a knife carved from soap. Don't worry about the details," Barty says, waving a hand dismissively. "My point is he's told me I'm getting on his last nerve by talking nonstop about you. Or at least that's what I think he said, half of it was in Spanish so, you know..."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Barty says while scratching the back of his neck. He avoids Regulus' searching gaze.

He knows he shouldn't press. That Barty is uncomfortable right now and that to leave it alone is for the best.

And yet...

"What do you say about me?"

It makes Barty throw his head back with a laugh. "Oh, baby, you'd be surprised."

"Well, go on." Regulus twirls the cord around his index finger. The one with the ring Barty gave him. "Surprise me."

"I talk about you at lunch, and make sure everyone knows how much I miss tasting your delicious food."

Regulus laughs but it's more of a punched breath. Barty practically bites through the spoon whenever he offers him a taste.

"I talk about you in the yard when I see the ridiculous cliques and know they'd make you laugh."

Barty describes them for him. He hates that it does make him laugh. He tells him he should join the retired christian hitmen. Barty disagrees, but only because he's forming his own clique.

"I even talked about you when some guy tried to beat the shit out of me. Told him how you weigh half as much as he does and could still kick his ass easily."

"Barty," he chastises. Try to stay out of trouble, he'd told Barty when he first visited him. To which he had replied, Don't worry, I'm going to make prision my bitch. It had done nothing to put Regulus at ease.

Barty smirks. "Shut up. You're flattered."

It makes him snort. Not bothering to deny it.

"I don't talk about you at night but that doesn't mean you're not up here being a little shit." He taps his forehead with the plastic phone and smiles languidly. "You haunt me. I want to know what you're doing, who you are with, it drives me up the walls."

Regulus swallows hard.

"I think often about how I'm here for you. And eventhough I know you hate me for it, I'd do it again. And again. I'll always look out for you first, Whiskers."

"You shouldn't."

"You see... I knew you would say that."

Regulus isn't surprised. They know each other better than anyone else.

"I'm still gonna do it," Barty adds, shrugging. "Even if you get rid of me."

"Like I could," Regulus scoffs. "Fucking parasite."

"Good," he declares. "Now, about Evan—"

Regulus' throat constricts. Right. He'd forgotten for a moment. Evan accidentally let it slip, how he spent the night at Barty's some weeks after their first kiss.

"It's over. I promise. It's been over for a long time. I haven't been able to–ehem–perform with anyone else since we..." he trails off but Regulus got the gist of it.

"Are you kidding? That was months ago!" Barty looks mortified which makes Regulus feel quite accomplished. Barty is naturally unashamed, unbothered and proud, and Regulus feels a rush whenever he manages to get him to snap. Pressing his finger on a bruise has always brought him pleasure. "Don't tell me you were suddenly feeling shy?"

"Fuck you, first of all. I don't want to talk about this."

"Did little Jr miss me so terribly he had to go into hiding?"

"Yes he fucking did!" Barty screams, all loud energy and electrifying gaze. Everything Regulus is fundamentally against concelead in a grimy boy who happens to be his favorite person in ths world.

"So you must like me a lot, huh?!" he goads.

"Yes, you asshole! Very fucking much!"

Regulus chuckles, chest warm and pleasant buzz under his skin. "Adorable. I guess your dick isn't the only thing that went soft."

Barty crackles at that, flipping him off as he laughs.

"I hate you so much," Barty mutters when the shared laughter dies down.

"Yeah, I know." Regulus smiles, gently tracing Barty's stupid tattoo with his eyes.

Regulus Akturus Black

"I hate you with my bones."

[himejoshikomaeda]

i like that youtube has randomly started recommending videos with less than a thousand views on my home page, but sometimes it just makes me feel a really pronounced sadness seeing a person that doesn't have very many views on their youtube videos, even though most people on earth don't have very many views on their youtube videos (or youtube videos at all). i want you to succeed... i want you to find your audience...

i clicked on a person's channel that i found through this recommendation and there was a video where they were splitting a watermelon that had spoiled to let off steam after being scolded multiple times at work. and for some reason, it just made me sad. i wish that person's boss wouldn't scold them at work. it's mean to make people feel that way. everyone is trying... and jobs are really just... so terrible... so why make it worse? anyway, the watermelon wasn't even really in frame. but that's because they set up the camera by the watermelon after talking about their day. they couldn't see the frame, so they didn't know.

maybe "sadness" isn't the right word to describe how i feel when i get these little looks into strangers' lives, but it's close. it's more like... i'm taken by a sudden awareness that what i'm looking at is an animal. it's just an animal that wants to live. an animal that wants to be happy. an animal that deserves to be happy... in my opinion, happiness is the birthright of any living creature. we are brought into this world no matter whether we wanted to be or not, so shouldn't it at least be pleasant? animals are cute...

sometimes, a cynical part of my brain tries to say "well, you know, they could be transphobic or something" in a uselessly weird attempt at divorcing myself from the sadness i feel when i look into strangers' lives. like, see, you don't need to feel the inherent empathy of walking the same earth as this person, because they might hate you for something you can't control! wouldn't that be awful? ...but it doesn't work. why would it? in the first place, i don't want to live my life assuming that everyone i don't know hates me, just because it's common to hate me.

i hope things get better for that person. and for everyone else. it'd be nice if things just got better for everyone.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Overuse of I/Me/My in First-Person

Anonymous asked: I'm writing a first-person POV story and am growing a bit tired of everything repeating "I raised MY sword" "I glanced down to MY right" etc… I'm annoyed by how much 'I', ''my', 'me' gets pushed into my sentences everytime I describe my MC doing something. I try to rearrange the sentences but it ends up the same "with MY sword raised, I will… blah blah blah." I feel like I overuse the POV stuff, but if I don't, everything muddles into confusion on whose stuff I'm talking about. Any help appreciated. Thank you!

(Ask edited for length...)

There are three things to consider when you feel like you're overusing I/me/my in first-person POV.

#1 - Pronouns and adjectives of possession (his/her/my/their/its) are just a part of telling stories. I think we tend to be more aware of first-person words than third-person words, if for no other reason than we're talking about ourselves when we use them in life. However, they're a necessary part of storytelling regardless of which POV you're using.

Consider this random paragraph from Outlander by Diana Gabaldon:

Drowsy as I was, I wanted nothing more than to curl up under a cozy bush and go back to sleep. There wasn't room for that, though, so I continued to stand, peering down the steep path in search of oncoming Druids. I was getting a crick in my back, and my feet ached, but it couldn't take long; the streak of light in the east had turned a pale pink, and I supposed it was less than an hour 'til dawn.

In this 82-word paragraph, the first-person pronoun "I" appears five times, and the adjective of possession "my" appears twice.

So, to some degree you have to really think about whether you're actually overusing these first-person words or whether you're just more aware/over-sensitive to their use.

#2 - You could be over describing your character's actions. When writing in first-person in particular, it can be tempting to describe every movement your character makes, resulting in a sort of "laundry list" of actions that requires a lot of I/me/my usage. For example:

I opened my eyes as my alarm went off. I hit the snooze button, but then I realized I needed to get up. I sat up and stretched my arms, then I swung my legs over the side of the bed and put my feet on the cold floor. I slid my feet into my slippers and stood myself up, and then I shuffled across the room to the bathroom. I opened the bathroom door...

I opened my eyes. I hit the snooze button. I realized I needed to get up. I sat up. I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I slid my feet into my slippers. I shuffled across the room. I opened the bathroom door. It's way too much detail. Your readers don't need a blow-by-blow of every second. It's sufficient to say:

I hit the snooze button through bleary eyes, quickly realizing I needed to get up. Sliding my feet into my slippers, I shuffled across the room to the bathroom for a quick shower.

See how much better that is? Your reader understands how to get out of bed, so you don't have to describe swinging your legs over the side of the bed unless that's important for some reason. Your reader can fill in the smaller movements between bigger ones, so it's not necessary to describe every small action.

Per your example, "I raised my sword" is a pretty necessary use of "I" if it's important that your character raised their sword. However, "I glanced to my right"

#3 - You're overusing filter words. Words like realized, knew, felt, saw, watched, heard, looked, glanced, remembered, decided, spotted, noticed, thought, noted... are called "filter" words because they come between the character's experience and the action unnecessarily, like a filter.

-- I realized it was getting dark out ... It was getting dark out -- I knew it was getting late ... It was getting late -- I felt the icy floor under my feet ... The floor was icy under my feet -- I saw the sun was starting to set ... The sun was starting to set -- I watched a bird land on the branch ... A bird landed on the branch -- I heard the wind rustling the leaves ... The wind rustled the leaves -- I looked and saw it was 4pm ... It was 4pm -- I glanced down and saw rocks below ... There were rocks below

You get the point. :) By eliminating filter words, you will eliminate a lot of the necessity for the use of I/me/my.

#4 - You're over-tagging dialogue. Even if your character is alone through much of the story, or even if they're only talking to themselves or one other character at a time, over-tagging dialogue can still be an issue. You can read my post Avoiding Repetition with Dialogue Tags to help with that. I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[atinystraynstay]

What Are Best Friends For? - Kwon Soonyoung

Synopsis: Waking up next to your crush wasn’t how you expected to start your morning. You remember going to a bar to meet your friends of your best friend, Kwon Soonyoung, but it turns out it lead to something even more.

"So are we going to talk about what happened?"

Pairing: Non-Idol! Kwon Soonyoung x Reader

Inspiration: About Last Night - Monsta X

Genre: Angst - jealous Hoshi, mutual pining, best friends to lovers

Contains: mentions nudity, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.1k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

I was staring up at the ceiling. It was already 9:44am but I couldn't get myself to move. My hands were clutching onto the comforter. I recognized the room that I was in, but I couldn't quite recall the series of events that got me here. That is, I wasn't sure how I ended up here in Soonyoung's room practically naked.

Last night, the guys held their monthly dinner. You haven’t met all the boys, but you knew how much they meant to Soonyoung. They were his brothers. All the boys held different careers, which made it difficult for them to meet up consistently. What you always loved about their friendship was their dedication towards one another. For that reason, they all promised one another to meet up at least once a month.

You were also out last night. That you do remember. You went out on a date with someone named Jesse. While you two had things in common, the chemistry lacked. You tried giving your date as much attention as possible, but found yourself checking your phone more times than you’d prefer.

"Hey, where are you? Guys want to go out to the bars and I miss you 😔"

Thank goodness for Soonyoung. That text he sent was a lifeline you didn't know you needed. Feeling a bit guilty, you made up a white lie to tell your date.

"I'm so sorry, I need to get going. My roommate locked herself out of our apartment, so I need to go let her in. Text me?"

Before your date could ask for any additional details, you grabbed your purse and jacket and took off running towards the exit. The nearest train station was about a block away, so you didn't need to run far. You wanted to give off the impression you were in a rush, and you genuinely were. You were just in a rush to make the most out of your evening.

"There she is! Finally! Now we can have a great night," Seungkwan teased as he saw you approaching.

Soonyoung turned his head around to see you, a wide grin on his lips. "That bad of a date you showed up 10 minutes after I texted you?" He teased.

"Okay, bad isn't the word that I would use to describe it, but you could say that," you laughed. "Why would I want to be with a stranger when I can be with a few of my favorite people?"

Out of the band of brothers, you've met Seungkwan, DK, Jun, Minghao, Mingyu, and Woozi. Looking around, there was a full group which caused you to stand up a bit straighter. You at least wanted to give a good first impression before the drinks start pouring.

"So this is the infamous y/n?" One man called out. He had somewhat longer hair, pulled back into a tiny ponytail. He wore a smirk on his lips, amusement written all over his face.

"And you must be Jeonghan," you said, to which the boys were amused. Jeonghan nodded, offering his glass to you before taking a sip.

"At your service." "To cause chaos? Oh god, Hoshi-hyung, you think that's a good idea?" one of the younger man asked.

He seemed a bit older for his age, but was quite young in the face. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was a minor who snuck into the bar. His eyes bounced around the room as he took careful look at everyone. You always admired people who naturally look out for others, especially in social settings like this.

"Let me guess! You are Dino? The kind younger brother who needs to let loose a little?"

The boys snickered as Dino's cheeks flushed. He muttered something under his breath before taking a sip of his beer. "I mean, she's not wrong, Dino. We've been trying to get you to come out with us for months!" One of the other man pointed out.

"Hey! Just because you all barely graduated doesn't mean I'm not taking it seriously," Dino defended himself.

The group began to settle a bit. You always adored Soonyoung's friends, and you were grateful he was introducing you more to his world. And it seems like his closest friends thought highly of you. You couldn't help but wonder how much Soonyoung paid or threatened them to not say anything too outrageous.

"Y/n, what's your liquor of choice?" "Tequila!"

All the guys looked at you as if you had a second head. You raised an eyebrow and shrugged before calling over the waiter, ordering 14 shots for the table. All the while, Soonyoung wore a prideful grin on his lips.

"Hyung, I think you found someone who is right at your level." "Just proves that y/n is the best," Soonyoung responded, winking at you.

You weren't sure if it was the warmth of the room or what Soonyoung just said that caused you to feel your cheeks get warm. You were just grateful to be concealed underneath the lights, so you weren't completely exposed. However, it seems maybe Seungcheol noticed. You've always been warned he has a watchful eye on the entire group.

The waiter, your saving grace, brought over the 14 shots. He laid down the serving tray before you all. Thank goodness. You were the first to grab a shot glass, raising it in the air as a way to pivot the conversation. "Here's to a fun night, boys," you announced.

All the boys eagerly joined you. Seungcheol had a smirk, eyebrow raised. You didn't want to make things too obvious because you knew the rest of the group would start asking questions. And you didn't need that type of pressure when you weren't even sure why you were feeling the way you were.

Much to your delight, the conversations were flowing. You were getting along with all the guys, some of the asking about you and others wanting details about your friendship with Soonyoung. They were probably seeking details they could tease him about. But that also meant that the drinks kept coming thanks to Soonyoung.

And the whole time, Seungcheol was sitting back and watching you. As if he was anticipating for the moment your honesty slips, that you might have feelings for your best friend.

Sure, you've always found Soonyoung attractive. Not only was that true when it came to his physical appearance, but you also adored his personality. He was dedicated, driven, and genuine. Any girl would be lucky to call him theirs.

However, your friendship with Soonyoung was too important to you. You often tried to ignore your feelings, assuming that the reason why they were so intense was because you've been single for the past few months. Soonyoung gave you the attention you yearned for, but you didn't think things would eve work out between the two of you. You were friends first and last, nothing would change that.

As Soonyoung went to go to the bar to order another round, Seungcheol decided to swoop in to investigate. Your group had diminished slightly, making it easier to slide around the corner booth. Some of the guys were out on the dance floor, while others were attempting to flirt with people around the bar.

It was only you, Seungcheol, and Wonwoo at the moment. And Wonwoo was too absorbed in a video game on his voice. Surely, you would spill the truth with almost everyone occupied. Especially the one that conversation would be about.

"So," Seungcheol called out. He scooted closer to you, throwing an arm around you to lure you in closer. And also to keep your voices low, in case anyone would return. He wasn't about to let your little secret out in the open, not yet at least. "How long have you liked Soonyoung?"

Your eyes flew open. You had your body turned, so you were fully facing Seungcheol. The look on his face told you that you had been caught red-handed, that there was no use in lying. However, you were going to try your damn best.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you laughed. But not even you could deny how warm and tingly you got just at the mention of his name.

"So you look at all your friends as if they walk on water?" "Actually, yes. All my friends are amazing. Not sure if you make the cut with how you're insinuating I could ever be into my best friend. He's like a brother to me." "Kinky, y/n," he laughed. "Come on, your little secret is safe with me. How long? Does he know?"

Seungcheol's face was close to yours. Your heart stammered as you were trying to rack through all the potential white lies you could tell him. Yet, with Seungcheol's strong gaze on you, you were trapped. The truth was about to come out of you one way or another.

"What am I interrupting here?" A voice called out.

Your head pulled back to see Soonyoung behind Seungcheol. You would've smiled, knowing the conversation with Seungcheol would be put on pause. Yet, looking at Soonyoung, something was wrong. The man who normally radiated positive energy had a frown. What happened?

Seungcheol glanced back before sliding away from you. "Oh, nothing at all. I was just chekcing in on y/n."

Soonyoung quickly looked at you, concern replacing the momentarily silence. You glanced between Seungcheol and Soonyoung, trying to catch yourself up on what just happened. All the while, Wonwoo had a smile curled on his lips. That you could tell from his phone's brightness illuminating his face.

"I don't think she feels good," Seungcheol explained. "I was going to get her some water before taking her home." "She's my best friend. I've got her."

Before you could even protest, Seungcheol slid out of the booth which allowed Soonyoung to get closer. He had his hand extended out to you. You glanced at the table to see 4 empty shot glasses on the table, almost like tiny islands. Where as there were a multitude of other empty glasses placed all over from the crew.

"Come on, sweet girl," Soonyoung cooed. "Let's go home."

That's all you can remember. Now, you were laying in Soonyoung's bed without Soonyoung.

"Rise and shine," a voice called out to you. You jumped as you were a bit startled since you were so deep in thought. Soonyoung leaned against the doorway that led to his bedroom. He had two mugs in his hand, hot with the steam rising out of them. But you were too distracted by the fact that he was shirtless and wearing a pair of grey sweatpants.

"Morning," you said softly. There was a slight headache coming on as you moved up, pulling the comforter alongside with you. "Have you been up long?"

He shook his head. He wouldn't confess yet that he has been up every two hours to check on you. You would feel guilty, feel as if you ruined his night especially since you crashed guys' night. Honestly, you being there was the highlight of his evening especially as all the guys commented how they liked you. How couldn't they? For the time being though, Soonyoung was just concentrating on taking care of you.

"No, doll, I haven't. Figured you might enjoy some coffee though, so I went ahead and a fresh pot. I also have breakfast bagels on the way."

Your face lit up as if it was Christmas day. He couldn't help but chuckle as he slowly pushed himself off the doorway. "I see you chose to get comfortable. Sleep well?"

Soonyoung always had this ability to move with such grace, such elegance. He basically floated from the threshold to the bedside. He placed the two mugs on the coffee table before giving you his undivided attention.

"Wait," you said, looking from the mugs back into his eyes. "You didn't sleep here last night? We didn't-" "Oh, y/n. Never would have let that happen," he vowed. "I slept on the couch in the living room. Do you remember anything after leaving the bar?"

Feeling a bit embarrassed and self-conscious, you shook your head. You quickly moved your gaze from your best friend, from your crush to the space in front of you. Your grip tightened on the comforter to make sure you weren't accidentally exposing yourself. "No," you sighed.

Picking up on your mood, Soonyoung quickly headed towards his closet. He began moving his fingers along the hangers, searching for sometihng. You could only hear the movement, assuming he was getting clothing for himself. He definitely was going to kick me out, especially since you stole his bed fort he evening. His couch wasn't the most comfortable thing.

But what are best friends for, I guess?

Soon, a grey hoodie was placed in front of you. You looked back to Soonyoung offered you a gentle smile, motioning with head to encourage you to put it on.

What really sent you for a spiral was the way he turned his back. He was giving you the privacy to slip the oversized clothing over your head. He made it too easy to fall for him.

Seeing that it wasn't up for debate, you quickly slipped the hoodie on. It fits on you like a dress which makes you feel more comfortable. It also smelled like him which solidified the fact that you had developed feelings for your best friend. Fuck.

You cleared your throat to signal for Soonyoung that it was okay to turn around. And when he did, you saw that adorable smile of his. He seemed satisfied to see comfortable once again.

Yet, in his eyes, you could see something was stirring. It was as if he was having a conflict within himself. What wasn't he telling you?

"So," he began, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. God, you were having flashbacks to your conversation with Seungcheol. Your eyes widened slightly as you were worried as to what Soonyoung was going to say. Did Seungcheol text him? "You and Seungcheol?"

It was as if the track record playing came to a screeching halt. You and Seungcheol? You couldn't help but tilt your head in confusion.

"I mean, I wouldn't mind. He is one of my best friends, but so are you. You guys could be cute together. I saw the way he was all over you when I went to get our drinks."

The man in front of you wasn't the confident Soonyoung you've come to adore. This was the Soonyoung who was afraid to be vulnerable, who didn't know if it was okay to communicate his feelings so openly. You could tell that he was anticipating anything, good or bad, by the way he played with his fingers.

"Soonyoungie," you sighed. "Please do not go setting me up with a stranger. He's a nice guy, but he's not my type."

Soonyoung lifted his head, confused. Okay, maybe Seungcheol would've been your type right when you met Soonyoung. You always had a thing for confident men. Which is why it has been so damn easy to fall for your best friend the more his personality began to shine. He is the loudest introvert you've ever encountered.

"But," Soonyoung began, running a hand through his hair. "Cheol-hyung is your ideal guy? That's the type you've always gone after ever since I met you." "What if I want something different?"

It was then, for the first time since sitting, Soonyoung seemed eager. He was like a little kid, always wanting to be looped into every plan and every secret. He looked hopeful. This was just one secret you had hidden from him. Until now.

"What if I told you I've been hiding something from you?" "We're best friends, y/n. We aren't supposed to have secrets," he pouted. "Maybe I was afraid of how you would react?"

He scooted closer to you. His hand moved up to reach offer a hand for you to hold. He always did that whenever he felt like you were about to be vulnerable, always wanting to reassure he was a place of comfort for you. And he was.

"I just feel like the person I might be meant to be with has been right in front of me this whole time. I'm tired of searching in other people for what I truly want."

You prayed internally Soonyoung would understand what you were trying to convey. You knew deep down that you shouldn't be tiptoeing around your feelings. However, you were bracing yourself for the worst which was rejection from your best friend. You could easily play it off that you were attracted to a co-worker or another friend if things went south.

"Like you have fallen for someone who knows you better than yourself?"

Your eyes widened at Soonyoung's statement. You didn't even notice that your hand had slipped into his. Until his fingers slipped in between yours. It was such a comforting feeling to feel his touch, but it was even more electrified under the tension in the room.

"Yeah," you whispered. "Like you have fallen for someone who completes you, who you've always been able to be yourself around." This time, you squeezed his hand gently.

He squeezed your hand back. "Someone like you."

The air left your lungs at how quickly the tables turned. You never imagined that Kwon Soonyoung would confess his feelings for you. It felt like a fever dream.

But you were brought back to reality at the feeling of Soonyoung's hand on your face. His thumb caressed your flushed cheek affectionately.

"I thought I noticed you blush last night, but I thought I just imagining things," he commented. His tone was so soft yet it struck you like a lightning bolt. You didn't even care that you had been caught red-handed. Everything was coming to light. "Why haven't you said something sooner, angel?" "Because I didn't want to lose my best friend," you confessed.

He couldn't help but smile at the sentiment. He hated knowing that you two have been practically on a carousel, too afraid to get off of it because you had become so content being best friends. Truthfully, Soonyoung didn't want to lose you either. He thought if he exposed his emotions he would scare you off.

"I'm not going anywhere," he vowed. Slowly, he leaned in to let his lips ghost over yours. You felt shivers run throughout your body as you tried to reassure your psyche this was reality. "Just say the word and I'm all in. No more bullshit, angel."

"Hell yes."

Soonyoung couldn't fight the grin against his lips. And you swear, you felt him smiler even wider feeling your lips against his. You were smiling just as brightly as you two broke out into a fight of laughter.

So this is what best friends are truly for, huh?

[bettyshoweduptotheparty]

1989 - The story of two muses

Back to my first and forever love – Lyric analysis!

1989 is very close to my heart, and I have always found it noticeable that this album has quite a contrast between love songs about a very up and down/anxiety filled relationship on one hand, and the very raw and heartfelt romance as portrayed in ‘This Love’ and YAIL on the other.

And the 5 new vault songs we have on Taylor’s version now have added quite a bit of detail to the picture that emerges and I’m more convinced than ever that there are two distinct relationships/muses being described and I fancied doing a deep dive into how each one is described in the music and how the themes connect to other songs. (And it may even explain the beach theme 😉)

Ok, so, I have actually sorted every song from 1989 that is about a romantic relationship, including the 5 new vault tracks, into this scheme (even though I found some really hard!)

Muse 1 – “The heartbreaker” This relationship is described as very up and down, very anxiety-driven, something you can’t walk away from like an addiction, “against your better knowledge but can’t help myself” kind of way. Taylor has described this person as ‘the one that might one day interrupt your wedding, because you’re never truly over’.  Break up: ‘you left me’.

Muse 2 – “The one that came back” While this relationship is by no means described as perfect, it has a very different tone to it. It’s very much based in secure feelings, ‘us against the world’, any difficulty faced is worth it. Break up: ‘had to let it go’. And the person came back when it counted.

(Sorry about the pictures, I couldn't fit a table in any other way)

I am really impressed with how much just five new songs have furthered the story of these two relationships and I (personally) love how much this is filling in the blanks and makes everything make so much more sense. 'You can hear it in the silence' vs 'Now your silence has me screaming' almost killed me, honestly. She really found the love that needs no words. 🥰 And the direct contrast of the metaphors, one relationship as an addiction with very high highs and very low lows, and the other as the calm waves on the shore that continually come in and out with the tide, is just so masterfully done, I love it. And I think given the beach theme of the 1989 TV covers, we can guess which of the muses is being honoured in this re-branding.

Lyrical connections to later albums

Perhaps not surprisingly, these two muses and their lyrical themes show up again in Taylor’s music in later albums. The connection I’ve already seen a lot of people make is the playing cards reference from Say Don’t Go (‘I’m trying to see the cards that you won’t show’) linking to Cornelia Street (‘back when we were card sharks, playing games’). And I love how this tells the story of someone whose previous relationship impacts how they react in a new relationship. Because the person in Say Don’t Go really did lead her on and played her and then left, whereas the Cornelia Street muse didn’t but Taylor thought as much based on her previous experience (‘I THOUGHT you were leading me on…but then you called, showed your hand…’).

Another parallel to Lover songs is the ‘light in the dark’ theme that starts in This Love with “lantern burning/ flickered in my mind for only you”, which feels very similar to “chandelier still flickering here” from Death by A Thousand Cuts. This relationship/lover is the light that perseveres in the dark, even if it’s just flickering, it never goes out. It lights up the darkness (‘glowing in the dark’), whereas the other relationship is a “shot in the darkest dark”. We obviously get a whole lot more songs in later albums that reference love as light in the darkness, most prominently in Daylight, the Lover album closer. But more subtly, I also think that “Takin’ your time in the tangerine neon light” from Slut, and “hang your head low in the glow of the vending machine” from Cruel Summer follow that same pattern. Something that illuminates the darkness. And just btw, Slut and Cruel Summer give me a very similar vibe in terms of different takes on the same situation…anyone else get that? But one last, maybe more subjective, connection is the line “I’ll pay the price, you won’t”. Which everyone immediately took as a comment on double standards between men and women, but I think it could also be interpreted to mean ‘I’ll happily pay the price and take the hit, so you don’t have to’, if you interpret the song to be about dating a man in public to keep a female partner out of the public eye.  With that in mind, the line becomes very reminiscent of ‘I can never give you peace’ from folklore, both expressing that Taylor wants to shield her lover from the media scrutiny that comes with dating her.  

Suburban Legends alone has so many links to later songs that I had to give it its own paragraph. The chorus ‘I didn’t come here to make friends’ is so ‘I don’t want you like a best friend’ coded, and ‘We were born to be suburban legends’ gives me big reputation/big conversation vibes. Other people have already pointed out that ‘flushed with the currency of cool’ draws links to Gold Rush and Gorgeous (‘You’re so cool it makes me hate you so much’) and ‘so magnetic it’s almost obnoxious’ is very similar to ‘magnetic force of a man’ from Lover. All painting the picture of a person who is so cool and alluring that they feel almost unattainable. The whole premise of the song being that the narrator didn’t come to make friends, but instead is on a mission to get what they want, feels very Mastermind to me. The background music over the outro confirms that, as it’s the same production as Mastermind (I call it ‘game show music’ 😊) and the lyrics saying that the muse now doesn’t knock anymore, suggests to me that maybe the masterplan has worked. Lastly, the conclusion of the song being ‘my life is ruined/I always knew it’ is a different way of saying I’ll happily ruin myself for you, as in ‘for you I’d ruin myself a million little times’ from Illicit Affairs.

We don’t get nearly as many references to the first muse’s themes in later music, but ‘fell from the pedestal, right down the rabbit hole” from Long Story Short is a nice drawback to the wonderland theme. Bottom line though, ‘It was the wrong guy…’.

And there we have it, the story of the two muses of 1989. If anybody here is even remotely as excited by lyrical analysis as I am, this one is for you, and feel free to have a friendly chat in the comments if I’ve missed anything!

[a-very-tired-jew]

We have to talk about Leftist Antisemitism

One of the things I have been grappling with since Oct 7th is the rise of antisemitism in Leftist spaces. Often we find ourselves falling into the same old position of blaming the Right for these issues. However, over the past few decades minority voices have pointed out that the Left has issues with bigotry in its own way. For myself, and likely many other Jews, growing up in Leftist spaces I heard antisemitic jokes and lines all the time. However, they were never the overt hate fueled rhetoric I would hear from the Right. Conspiracies were relegated to "The Rothschilds control the world" rather than "The Jews control the world." Regardless of how you feel about the rich, the Rothschilds are a dog whistle for Jews. Hell, my own family members would say this same line because the majority of us are on the Left. So obviously we take a position regarding the ultra rich. However, this Rothschilds line isn't the only dog whistle. Often there were jokes at your expense from outside your in-group. Common refrains that *insert Jewish dog whistle* couldn't be trusted due to *insert conspiracy coded in Leftist language*. That's the issue... The antisemitism on the Left is coded in a language that makes it more subtle than overt rightwing antisemitism. But how did we get here? It definitely predates Oct 7th. We can partly lay blame at this at the feet of something that feels like an old and tired trope at this point: Russia. In particular, the good ole USSR. You see, dear reader, regardless of how you describe your sociopolitical and economics leanings, and regardless of whether or not you reject USSR style Communism, their style and impact still influence you and the rest of the world. As Leftists we often stand opposed to many aspects of Western capitalist ideals, which in turn exposes us to many of the anti-Western writings, philosophies, beliefs, etc... The issue is that the USSR has a very sordid history with antisemitism. Some of you may be saying "but wait! There were Jewish Bolsheviks! Stalin even supported Israel!", don't you worry. We'll get there. While there may have been Jewish Bolsheviks and members of the party post revolution, it does not change the policies and actions that preceded and followed. Robert Weinberg, Dara Horn, David Nirenberg, and other historians have all written extensively at some point or another about this very issue. I highly recommend Dara Horn's latest piece for the Atlantic "Why The Most Educated People in America Fall for Antisemitic Lies". She briefly covers this topic. If you can't access it, well here we go. Zionism as a concept had already been around for a few decades by the time the Communist Revolution occurred, having been solidified by the Dreyfuss Affair in the late 1800s. Zionism is/was also considered Jewish nationalism. While a Jew could be a Russian Jew, German Jew, or any other "nation" Jew, they were still considered an other and thus they could never truly be a nationalist for that country. Only for Israel/Zion. As such, Jews in the USSR were not trusted as it was argued they could not be truly devoted to the Party. Jews were then labeled as Zionists. Zionism was considered anti-Communist, and racist due to the Party purposefully putting out that the "chosen people" line meant that Jews were supremacists and believed themselves to be better than others (The chosen people line actually refers to us choosing to adhere to certain laws). As such, Zionist activities were shut down as they were an act of treason and betrayal. This means that synagogues, shuls, business, and more were shut down as a means to disrupt the "Jewish conspirators". It did not matter that Jews were involved in the revolution, if you were Jewish you were an other and could not be trusted. pt 1.