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s-4pphics · 1 month

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a friend in need! (e.w.)

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SYNOPSIS: heartbreak aid during the apocalypse, you ask?

WORD COUNT: 5k

WARNINGS: bff!ellie who’s sad, kinda perv oc who’s eager to fix that, remixed version of seattle!ellie, dina catching strays for no reason (i love her pls), wound care but erotic, SMUT AGELESS BLOGS/MINORS DNI, dubcon (nasty green), porn watching, mutual/guided masturbation, brief poochie eating, oc in denial ab her little crush, real girlhood <3, slight angst :(

A/N: the bubblegum apocalypse where no one dies or lies. #SCISSORING

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The gates of Jackson open, and relief rushes through your chest.

Everyone is accounted for. Ellie’s accounted for.

Weeks—or however the fuck long— of pent-up anxiety finally settles in your limbs as you sprint towards Shimmer while Jesse tends to Dina, greeting the hazel mount with coos and rustles through her fur. Baby needs a bath and a good brushing.

Your eyes swiftly shift from her to your best friend, “Ellie, I’m so glad— “

“Can you help me down, please?”

Creases bunch in your forehead at the strain in her tone. And then you’re met with the blood-soaked wrap that's enclosed around her jean-covered thigh.

“Oh, shit… c’mere.”

Ellie’s good leg swings over the saddle, and you hold her waist to ease her down into the muddy grass. Joel’s the first one to engulf her. They exchange words that you don’t catch before his reluctant arms drop to guide Shimmer back to the stocks, leaving you two alone. You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around her neck next, mindful of her leg.

“I didn’t know what to think when y’all didn’t come back,” you whisper.

When the two girls first made their departure to Seattle, the icy remains of winter had just begun to melt into the dirt beneath it, and that alone felt like ages ago. There’s mosquitoes and moths everywhere now, following wherever the sun beams.

A strong arm wraps around your waist, and you instantly stiffen and detach from her, hands resting on her shoulders.

Her gaze drops to the ground when you whisper, “What happened, Ellie? You okay?”

She breathes. “Peachy.”

Your hands drop when she turns in the direction of her home, head jerking when she says, “I’m gonna shower.”

“Dinners supposed to be really good tonight!” You exclaim with a broken smile when she takes her first hobble, “Eat with me? Consider it a celebration that you made it home safe.”

Ellie seems to soften at your invitation, head bobbing in approval, and you smile.

She holds her fist out to you, “See you in 20?”

You bump your knuckles against hers with strained cheeks, “See you in 20.”

One small, comforting smile from her, and she’s off, limping back home.

“What’s up with them?”

You flinch at the too close whisper from Jesse, and you shrug. “Maybe they broke up.”

“Doubt it,” He snorts, “Dina told me it was brutal on the way back. The bastards were everywhere, she said. They’re probably still shook up.”

“Damn… How’s she doing?”

“Weird as hell. I think she’s sick or something,” Concern is melting off him, “She’s getting checked out now.”

“I’ll check on her later,” You face him, “Coming to dinner?”

“Probably not. Gotta make sure Dee’s good.” He’s already walking off, trailing after his friend…? Ex? You never know what to call them.

“See ya.” You wave awkwardly.

Weird.

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How do you cheer up a friend that just witnessed three dozen infected tear another small community to shreds? At least, according to Jesse. He was able to get more out of Ellie and Dina than you were, apparently.

You don’t know how Ellie — or anyone — could experience such barbarous scenes as frequently as they do. You’ve been on patrol twice since you stumbled upon Jackson a few years back, and each venture leaves you less and less eager to see the world beyond its walls. You respect their bravery, not only for being able to dive head first into unknown territory with nothing but bullets and faith, but to also face those walking demons at every corner.

Your closest friend is often excited to show you scavenged artifacts that she has collected, but… she’s barely spoken to you since you helped her off Shimmer.

Her silence is uncommon, and therefore, frightening.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had fish,” you scoff weakly, poking your carrots with your fork, “It’s good, huh?”

Her focus shifts from the tablecloth to you.

Silence.

You drop your utensil, “Fuck, Ellie… dude, what happened out there? Jesse told me… that y'all got caught up— “

“Dina’s pregnant.”

He didn’t tell you that.

Ellie’s whisper breezes past your ears so fast that you barely catch it. The canteen continues to bustle with hungry, ravaged patrons who returned from their second round of patrol. You assumed Ellie was one of them after her scattered return, but she hasn’t touched anything on her plate. Not even her carrots. Her favorite; A literal goddamn rabbit.

No wonder she hasn’t eaten… Who could’ve with news like that? Especially considering the high she was riding before the couple left.

“What.”

Ellie’s head shakes with gall, and a disappointed grin plumps her cheeks.

“Yup… Can’t wait to tell Maria.”

Sharing the news of a new Jackson kiddo sounds like the last thing on her mind. Days before the two took off, she was squealing like a wild hyena in the wee hours of the night, gushing to you about the midnight explorations with her long-term crush. Her retellings of their first night together were vivid: filled with pent up tension and need and unfiltered lust. According to Ellie, they could’ve gotten married in a fortnight with the relationship they’d built over the years, and you believed her. Sadly.

You were present, observant, during your teenage years. You were there when Cat kissed Ellie, when they broke up, when Ellie had recurring nightmares about Riley and was desperate for comfort from you, when Ellie fell for Dina…

And now they’re in a pickle. A fat one.

Hearing about Ellie’s relationship never went how you’d assume. You expected to be happy for your friend whenever she enthused about a topic that brought about such elation, but there was always something about the stories that gave you pause. Something that burned in the pit of your stomach and caused you to, frankly, fake congratulations. You’re unsure why, but hearing about Dina and Ellie’s relationship potentially being tarnished is calming that simmer inside you.

“Just when I thought…” She scoffs quietly. “Whatever. Fuck it.”

You can’t resist and slip, “… Who’s the daddy?” And she hisses.

“Guess.”

But you don’t have to... Fuck.

Dina and Jesse’s relationship was… something. In adolescence, Ellie was either secretly celebrating their multitude of separations or crying to you about them getting back together. Their consistent streak of being on and off clearly got the best of them. There’s a ball of cells growing inside of your friend’s almost-girlfriend.

“Shit… maybe it was… a misunderstanding? Doesn’t it take a couple weeks to… form in the womb or whatever?”

You’re not the devil's advocate. Your lips clamp at Ellie’s stern glare.

“There’s no misunderstanding.”

Your shoulders slump at the distance in her eyes. The indifference she’s exuding can’t disguise the hurt that she’s experiencing internally. Your heart aches for her, despite the excited jitters in your fingers.

“… Sorry, man.”

“I don’t care.”

Good, you impulsively want to say. You shove it down into the hardwood beneath your soles. Your brows furrow in annoyance, more so at yourself for not being remorseful. “Fuck off. Yes, you do, and that’s okay. It’s normal.”

“Can we go?”

Her request is sudden and cracked, and every inkling of pride deflates in your chest. Poor thing; How could you feel like this when she’s this scattered? Guilt replaces whatever dark fantasy you’ve conjured up in the past five minutes.

You move to stand without objection. Fuck the carrots, “Yeah. Let’s roll— “

An instant lightbulb above your head… and it’s glowing green. Roll.

Roll!

Mischief shines in your chest and eyes when you glance around the packed space in search for,

“TOMMY!”

A flash of brown hair turns to meet your sprinting form. The peach he’s holding looks devine.

“You seen ‘Gene anywhere?”

Your grin widens at his disapproving stare.

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“Be careful with those, shit-for-brain! I’m not coming to save your ass like last time!”

“Got it, boss!” You squeak with a polite smile, shoving the small baggie of rolled joints into your stuffed satchel. It vanishes the second Eugene slams his vault to his dirty ass man cave, “Fucking dicksucker.” You huff.

Ellie snickers from beside you. “C’mon. Be nice.”

“No. He skimped on me last time. Toke hog.”

The walk to your place is colder than usual, but it’s beautiful out. The moon shines from behind the dark clouds, illuminating the ivory that shields the incoming spring grass. Gorgeously cinematic; A scenery that gets the heart thumping. Aching. Yearning.

You lead Ellie onto your porch and into your home. She removes her jacket and kicks off her boots, throwing her armor over the designated rack. Your satchel goes flying across the room until it clatters on your bed. Black tapes spill all over the mattress, and Ellie scolds you disapprovingly.

“Again? Really?”

You smirk. Eugene’s always too blasted to punish your kleptocracy, “No one has a better porn collection than ‘Ge— “

Her jaw slacks, “Porn?! What the fuck, I thought those were the Jurassic Park— “

“They’re not…” Before pondering, “Although that’d be some crazy role play. RAAAWR— “

“You’re the fucking worst.”

“C’mon! Look at these titles,” You skip to your bedside to snag a couple tapes, “Smoochie the Coochie… Banging my hot neighbor…”

A boisterous laugh passes your lips, “Throbbin’ Hood: Prince of Beaves! Tell me that’s not fucking hilarious!”

Ellie doesn’t laugh. Hasn’t laughed. Just simmers by the front door with red dusting her cheeks. How adorable!

“Why’re you looking like that?”

When her eyes travel over the creases between your brows and confused smile, your feet give an awkward stutter. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. At the very least, she should’ve cracked a smile by now. Even an insecure one.

You peer down at the tapes in your hand and back up at her. Her posture shifted: arms wrapped protectively around her waist while she leaned on the balls of her feet, eyes inspecting the dim lights of your space.

Another lightbulb. Not a green one.

“Have you ever watched porn?”

She shrugs with floundering shoulders. You chuckle.

“It’s just for shits and giggles, Ellie. Don’t be so serious. The acting sucks and you needa good laugh.”

You cradle the filled baggie like it holds a sacred orb and waltz towards the VCR. Your screen shifts from bright blue to the tape’s introduction screen. Naked men in speedos… Ellie plops down on the couch behind and mindlessly flicks a lighter. You reach into the baggie and toss her the fattest joint available before working the remote.

A sigh releases… then another flicker… then a long, drawled out exhale. You grin.

You, remote in hand, plop down next to her, “Is it good?”

“Better than last time, for sure.” You trade the remote for the joint, arm wrapped around your angled legs as you pull. Hits smooth… er. It still dries your throat.

“Remind me to thank him.”

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Two joints down. Two tapes completed. Three wide smiles from Ellie from the bad acting. The night’s a win in your book.

She lazily lights another joint while you switch out the tapes. You purposely saved the best for last: apparently the only lesbian porno in that bastard’s whole cave. When’s the last time you’ve smoochied a coochie?

More importantly, when’s the last time Ellie has? Recently, you assume; She and Dina were too close to only be going on long walks in the woods. The more you smoke, the more your mind wanders where it shouldn’t.

… Your friend is a lover. Always has been, despite her efforts of convincing you, herself — everyone — that she’s emotionally indifferent. Craves affection, both verbal and physical, like she’s deprived. She raves to you about her desires on a weekly basis, for fucks sake! Someone hug the poor girl!

“Feeling better?” You squeak when you plant on the cushion. Ellie nods with a soft grin.

“Thank you.”

Your hands clap together and her body shakes from the recoil. “The night’s not over yet! I got a surprise for you! Happy Birthday!”

“It’s not my birthday… I don’t know my birthday— “

Your smile is laced with grating sarcasm, “Wow, you really know how to kill the vibe! Just play along, goddamn!”

You sigh when her expression flattens.

“Ellie…”

“Yes?”

Oh… That crackly tone did a little something. Cheering Clitorous. Alright. Okay.

“I found a little something in ‘Gene’s special drawer— “

“Aren’t all his drawers special.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up.”

Her red eyes widen, but she silences.

“You know what feels really nice after a bad breakup?”

Her middle finger digs into her dry eye, “Getting high and watching porn with the only other lesbian you know?”

“Even better,” Your hand claps down on her jean-clad, uninjured thigh. “Getting high and watching lesbian porn with the only other lesbian you know… while getting head. A true fixer-upper.”

More silence, and your tummy gives a nervous tumble. Eugene’s bud gives you enough courage to make eye contact, and, given any other circumstance, you would’ve hollered laughter at how stunned Ellie looks, eyes nearly stretched beyond her lids, but you don’t. You press on when she denies you.

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?” Your thumb presses the large button in the middle and the screen displays two, three — six women… all sprawled out on white carpet while lewdness shines through their eyes… And not at all the romantic wives fingering each other next to the fireplace like you envisioned. Plus, the music sucks. Who the fuck plays the accordion while bumping cooters?

Your eyes circle around and… Oh, wow. A lot less tame than you were expecting… Are those chains and a paddle?

What the fuck, Eugene.

“Oh, shit.”

Ellie’s either impressed or about to go on a judgmental rampage. You gauge her expression curiously. Her lashes keep fluttering like butterfly wings. You nearly coo audibly. She always does that when she’s excited! What a cutie!

Ellie recites the description at the bottom of the screen, “When six girls go off into the woods for an early 4th of July getaway, conversations take a lustful… and explorative turn. Find out what happens during one late, hot evening after a game of… kiss and blow?”

You snort, “Are you asking me?”

“Well, yeah… The fuck is kiss and blow?”

You shrug, “Find out.”

One click of the remote, and the footage begins… More giggles from Ellie, and something flutters in your chest. You’ll have to watch bad acting with her more often.

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Six minutes into Smoochie the Coochie, and you still don’t know what kiss and blow is. And you don’t care to find out.

High pitched moans and pleasured squeals that almost sound phony rings in your hazy skull as you stare up at your best friend from between her covered legs.

This is the quietest she’s been all night: her eyes are locked on the screen behind you, completely entranced with flushed cheeks by what you assume is the sweatiest, raunchiest… scissoring, is what it’s called? On the screen. Maybe. You’re wired and can’t think straight and Ellie’s hot.

“Are we really doing this right now?”

She whispers when you caress her thigh over her pants, and you nod approvingly. Desperately, but she can’t tell. “Up to you.”

You don’t expect a cold hand to come up and tenderly brush against your cheek. You shudder and nuzzle into it. Sober you would be so embarrassed at how you’re reacting to her affections. You’ve never been the needy one.

“Can we…”

You pout and burn with embarrassment, but start to pull back, “Stop?”

“No, no…” Her eyes meet yours and your body locks. A bit nervous. “I dunno…”

“Tell me.”

“Later.” She whispers.

You stare skeptically as she plays with your earlobe. “I promise I’m good. I want this. I’ll tell you later.”

A pause before you sigh. “Okay. Up.” You pat her thigh and her hips rise. Her unbuttoned jeans are peeled down her legs, gently over her fresh bandage, and tossed beside you. Your body is miles ahead of your brain; before you realize, your lips smack all over her bruised thighs, peppering over the freshly bandaged scars and faded ones. She squirms where she sits, shaky breaths puffing from her lips.

Your mouth travels higher, and an encouraging hand lands on the back of your head, massaging your scalp.

“Tell me what’s happening.” You mumble against her, a blind finger pointing back at the screen.

“I don’t — So much shit is going on. Like… from all directions.”

You smile against her thigh, “Someone catch your attention?”

“I…”

But no explanation is needed. There’s treads of weakness in her growl. Go figure.

“Lemme guess… She look like her?”

If she catches the unwarranted agitation in your tone, she doesn’t mention it. Simply digs her nails into the back of your head. No forceful tugs at your hair, but a warning, and your teeth beam.

“I dunno what the fuck you’re smiling for, but it’s gonna piss me off soon.”

There's a smidge of threat in her voice, so your kisses travel up. A pleasant distraction, given every small twitch of her legs.

Not too long before you reach the hem of her underwear, and you trap it between your teeth before releasing it. Her tummy jolts when the fabric hits her skin, and you go heart-eyed.

“Tell me who you’re looking at.”

“T-The one that brought all that crazy shit to the party.”

Of course. Handcuffs, she means. The large, wooden paddle, she means. A slow drag of your tongue advances up her v-line and her body wracks against her will.

“Crazy in a bad way?” You purr against softness, and she exhales a laugh. “Not in this context, I guess.”

“You like that kinda stuff?”

“How the fuck would I know?”

You snort before your eyes fall, trapped by the small patch of wetness that sticks to her panties. Glues the outline of her lips to the fabric. You’re seconds — inches away from going feral.

Whatever patience you entered with has withered: and with determined hands, Ellie’s underwear gets yanked, pried down her legs and tossed behind you. Your eyes glisten with excitement when they meet the red pearl that twitches in anticipation, walls that leak when the warmth of your breath brushes over the cup of her.

Her pussy’s perfect. A stunner, for sure. You and Cat were never close, but you’d hit her up to get Ellie tatted. Not even in a discreet place. It’d be somewhere where everyone — Dina — can see. On your forehead, for fucks sake—

S-Stop staring at me.

It seemed like the moans behind you became louder. You nearly shove three fingers in Ellie’s mouth as punishment for interrupting the moment, but you choke on a breath. Mumble a slur of you’re cute, can’t help it in an attempt to ease her.

And just when your tongue unravels over your bottom lip, right when Ellie’s taste is millimeters away, right when her breath hitches and her mouth drops open, the loudest crack, very reminiscent of bullets, rings across your small living room. Scares her, scares you enough to steal the attention from the art between her thighs.

The sight on the screen is new, even for you.

It’s not every day you see girls being slung across muscly laps and swatted on the ass with wooden tools with their hands bound behind them while they cry and sob and beg for their masters to hit them harder. You probably would’ve laughed at the theatrics if Ellie wasn’t here, as if you weren't about to go to town on her ten seconds ago. Both your breaths shudder and tremble as raunchy sounds of lips smacking and girls touching themselves and fingering each other split your ears in half.

Your vision tunnels and shifts when a whimper from Ellie rattles through your chest and down your ribcage. She gasps like you’ve caught her doing something bad, but she doesn’t stop whatever she’s doing. Just blushes madly with her hand shoved between her squeezed legs while her eyes flicker between you and the screen.

Time seems to whir and the room spins. The pace of your breath increases, slobbery wheezes syncing with Ellie’s when her legs cross over one another.

Your muscles move you closer, hands planted on either side of her waist, back enlengthening until your eyes are level with hers. Her tongue barely dips to wet her bottom lip, eyes swiftly flickering down to your mouth.

A hand raises right when another crack of a paddle against skin ripples through your speakers, and before Ellie can flinch, your palm caresses her cheek, thumb exploring the divets in her face. Over the healed wounds and fiery specks that hypnotize. You don’t expect her to nuzzle into your touch…

And you definitely don’t expect her arm to start moving, despite its enclosing.

Her eyelids bat, and green pierces through your chest. Over your neck, your face, your shoulders as her bicep twitches. When her lips part around a gasp, you choke.

Lemme see.

Ellie curses under her breath, kisses your palm, and undoes the twining of her legs. Her fingers are gentle where they rest over her pussy, the bones in her hand flexing as her palm digs into her clit, folds smushed around the muscles of her thumb.

That’s how you do it?

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, masking a smile as her head shakes. Your heart pinches.

Show me how.

Her head falls to the side as her cheeks sizzle.

You first.

You shudder, and your brain scolds. This wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to smoke, watch porn, eat pussy, and escort her home safely.

Not the fucking plan.

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Ellie insisted that you restart Smoochie the Coochie before you undress. For ambiance, she’d said when you stood on two feet, watching as she removed her hoodie. For me? She’d whispered against your cheek, in only a tank top, when you finally positioned yourself on the cushion in front of her. Face to face, pussies almost touching, your knees to the ceiling.

The volume of the footage has been turned down, but the acting… it’s fucking hilarious. You shouldn’t be smiling. You shouldn’t be giggling, but you are.

Ellie moves loose strands of hair behind her ear, grin matching yours.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

“Hm.”

Ellie, much to your shock, makes the first move. Again.

Takes your wrist in her hand, brings your limp one up to her mouth to pepper kisses on your knuckles before pressing in between your open thighs. Your fingers are clumsy and your heart pounds against your ribcage, thighs jerking at the sticky contact of your own juices. Ellie's eyes between your legs like a hawk, leant comfortably against the pillows stacked behind her.

Her attention encourages you. You balance on the hand that rests on the couch, grinning playfully around the fingers that sink into your mouth and glide on your tongue. Ellie shakes her head with a small smile before reaching for the lighter and last joint. Sticks the end of it between her lips, flicks the lighter twice, and ignites it.

Every slow exhale of smoke gets rewarded with presses on your clit, your index and middle fingers tickling the sensitive area with learned precision. It pulsates under your fingertips whenever you lock eyes; her eyes are fervent with need, uncontrollably so, and it sends vibrations through your spine.

Slower, Ellie whispers wetly when your touch becomes rushed. Too eager for her liking. She’s always hated when you rush things. Loathes your impatience.

The moans from the film pick up again: shaky and cracked and high. They match yours when you apply just enough pressure on the spot right above your clit. Your walls constrict and slick gushes from, and Ellie curses.

When your fingers explore elsewhere, she sits up suddenly, her breath hitting your mouth when she mutters, Keep touching right there, with a tight hand around your wrist, trying to guide you back to the spot that makes your thighs quake.

I’m gonna cum if I do. There’s warning in your gasp.

Ellie puffs again before huffing a smoky breath, the scent infiltrating your senses. Your fingers almost sink inside, Wasn’t that the plan?

Cum w-with me?

Your voice is pleading, tone almost identical to when you would incessantly pester and follow Ellie around Jackson when you were younger.

Ellie, watch a movie with me?

Ellie, do a puzzle with me?

Ellie, go on a walk with me?

Ellie! Ellie! Ellie!

What used to be innocent invitations have swiftly shifted into something darker, and Ellie needs more. A shocked squeak leaves you when her free hand curls around the back of your neck to smash your lips together. Your hazy mind hadn’t registered Ellie’s fiery stares at your bruised lips, her head tilting in the opposite direction of yours, her nose brushing against yours whenever your fingers made a gooey noise.

Your eyes flutter shut when her tongue sloppily glides over your bottom lip, moans quenchless where they hit Ellie’s tongue. She swallows them down until they jolt in her stomach, and shoves her hand between her thighs once more.

Her fingers are drenched and so are yours; there’s nasty, slicked noises everywhere. From you, from Ellie, from the television that’s been forgotten by both of you.

Ellie’s movements become desperate in a matter of seconds, no longer able to keep up the pace of your kiss. Your separated lips connect only by a thin line of saliva as Ellie gasps hit the skin of your cheek.

Can’t wait to feel you on me.

Your euphoria begs to peak at Ellie’s promise, your fingers massaging all the spots that send you to the stars at a desperate pace, trying to match Ellie’s.

Cum with me, she growls like you did, Cum with me, cum with me, fuck —

Your friend’s name is a prayer on your tongue, shrouded in lust and a longing you’ve forced down to non-existence. You both succumb to pleasure in unison, the pulsing between your thighs synched with hers as she whimpers out.

I wanna tie you up like that. Tie you up? Beat your ass raw and bloody? Whatever she's looking at, you want. You'll take without hassle. Anything for her. After one glance at the screen,

Cumming for you, oh shit—

You wring out your high until there’s nothing left to give her, legs closing around your wrist at the aching sensitivity. Ellie’s head falls onto the arch of your knees, lathering your skin in spit-filled kisses, her soaked hand slowing between her legs.

“Lay down.”

“H-Hm?”

“Lay down,” you croak.

And she does, eyes filled with carnality.

The porno is long forgotten when your head shoves between Ellie’s legs, the tape stuck on the starter screen while her cries of pleasure blend with the same bullshit accordion.

You tongue her with fever, drink down all of her heartbreak that she endured while she was away from the source, mark yourself all over the terrain of her until she shatters with a cry of your name. Drenches your mouth, your tongue, your chin. Pushes you away with a cautious hand when you don’t stop. Flinches with sensitivity.

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“Hold still.”

You swipe the disinfecting wipe over Ellie’s wound, fresh blood leaking into the white cotton. She assembles new bandages where she sits above you, unraveling the sterile fabric for you to wrap her in.

“I’m trying!” She whines, “It still hurts.”

“Shouldn’t have tried to ride my face— “

She flicks your forehead so hard, it thumps like a drum, and you wince before playfully biting her finger.

She snickers and allows you to collect the last bits of blood with the last tarnished rag in your first-aid kit, snagging the bandages from her grasp. She holds down the new gauze and does as she’s told, lifting her thigh on your command as you bind her messy stitches.

Why did you kiss them, though?

It lasted 0.5 seconds. A quick, gentle smack meant to soothe, but your brain doesn’t see it that way. Red alarms glow in every crevice of your cerebrum, urging you to move away from your best friend. You stare at Ellie and Ellie stares back, expression no longer readable and easy-going, and you flinch away from her.

Inviting her over for some innocent porn-watching is one thing… but kissing her without motive? Without the need to progress into something more? It stuns you more than her. You think.

“Sor — sorry — “

Ellie’s already palming at your shoulders, “It’s okay… it’s not a big deal— “

And it’s not. Why does her confirmation bloom a new ache in your chest?

Your knees pop when you hurriedly stand, and Ellie follows, hands sliding down your arms to grab your hands.

“Hey…”

You meet her eyes.

“We’re good… okay? It’s nothing serious.”

Don’t cry. You agree with a grin. One you pray she doesn’t notice cracks in its corners. She says nothing. Just caresses your cheek in unsaid thanks. Thanks for tonight. Thanks for the distraction.

Ellie returns a smile before gathering her clothes off the floor. She dresses in silence as you watch with a sorrowful gleam. Is it selfish to ask her to stay? Would it be too much? Should you? Will you?

It’s when she’s tying her boots up that you say something.

“I can walk you back!”

“I got it. I’m not going straight home.”

Ellie’s denial is calm. Gentle. Not abrasive in the slightest, but your hands quiver and heart swells, bound to burst with dejection. Where is she going? The town is sleeping.

She leaves before you can ask with a promise of seeing you in the morning for breakfast. Nothing unfamiliar, nothing changed.

Tears rock you to sleep, and you’re not sure why.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪

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javelinbk · 10 months

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Here it is, Beatle People! The official 'Insane Things Paul Has Said About John' list, as created by the people of tumblr. I hope this is a useful supplement to the original McLennon iceberg

Sources under the cut:

“He was a very cool boy” (@javelinbk)

"Whenever other people do that it always reminds me of John" (@javelinbk)

"We put our names next to each other in our school exercise books" (@beatlepaul4ever)

When was Lennon at his best? "When he was asleep." (@didwemeetsomewherebefore)

"A delicious broth of a boy" (@zilabee)

"A lovely little baby, John was" (@mallowedheart)

"Daddy's room" (@pauls1967moustache)

"We’re songwriting together even if we’re not together" (@midchelle)

"John seemed like some sort of emperor in control of it all" (@blondecasino)

"I'm trying to get my son to have a son and call him Lennon, and then he'll be Lennon McCartney" (@peaceloveandstarrs)

“John and I had millions of fabulous little experiences in Paris” (@divine-sphinx)

"We used to have wanking sessions" (@merseydreams)

"You can be heterosexual and be having a homosexual dream and wake up, and think, 'Shit, am I gay?'" (@skylikeaflame)

"It was a place called Menlove Avenue. [Pauses] Someone's going to read significance into that: Paul and John on Menlove Avenue. Come onnnnnnn" (@s-l-martin)

"I slept with him a million times" (@s-l-martin)

"A wild and woolly genius who it was my pleasure to work with, walk with, talk with, and occasionally sleep with." (@didwemeetsomewherebefore)

"In bed" (@i-am-the-oyster)

"Well, I’m sure Brian was in love with John, I’m sure that’s absolutely right. I mean, everyone was in love with John; John was lovable, John was a very lovable guy." (@whenyourbirdisbroken)

"Dear friend, throw the wine, I’m in love with a friend of mine." (@heartsinthebasement)

"We got very drunk and cried about how we loved each other" (@nikidontsurf)

“Then also we were like married, so you got the bitterness. It’s not a woman scorned this time, it’s two men scorned — probably even worse. And I had to make way for Yoko. My relationship with John could not have remained as it was and Yoko feel secure.” (@thefortunateisle)

"If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and…" (@alienoriana, @majinmelmo)

"You just don’t hang around with your ex-wife" (@javelinbk)

"No, I have a lot of dreams about John, and they're always good" (@notgrungybitchin, @skylikeaflame)

"This (painting) is John’s Room. It just looked to me like John, when he had his long hair and then his cloak or whatever this is. Then I just scratched in that, looked like one of those drawings John used to do. You know his funny little men. So then I called that John’s room … If I’m gonna see a face in a painting it’s highly likely to be his." (@foryouwereinmysong)

"I wish I had sat and just hugged John all the time when we were together.’ (…) I’d just sit around and hug him forever. That’s the depth of my feeling for him" (@theoldmixer)

“Here Today - a love song to John” (@javelinbk, @bluewater9)

"So if you've got someone, you want to tell them you love them, just get it said, don't wait" (@lennon-gal)

And honourable mention for the following stories:

Stalking John all over Liverpool until Ivan officially got them introduced (@only-a-northern-soul)

‘He’s been telling himself and the whole world that nobody cared about writing songs and his music before he met John. He knew George Harrison.’ (@greatsaladavenue)

Quitting his job to commit to the band aka explicitly picking John over his father (@adriansfrombrooklyn)

Writing "Here, There, and Everywhere" by John's pool while waiting for him to wake up and write with him alone in his attic (@aint-that-kind-of-blog-bruv)

Taking the one photo of him and john from that night with the cursed pictures with jane and then blowing it up and hanging it in his office at apple (@pauls1967moustache)

Taking LSD so he could join John in his potentially bad trip (@scurator)

The time he vaulted over a table because another man was touching John and Paul had to physically intervene (@scurator)

#kind of heartbreaking seeing them all in one place #but also insane #some of these are even more insane in full context so I suggest you read the full quotes for maximum impact #paul mccartney #john lennon #john and paul #mclennon #insane quotes

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coupsie-daisies · 2 months

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Kinktober '23: Bondage | Boo Seungkwan

Pairing: Camboy!Boo Seungkwan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), roommates to lovers, Camboy AU

Summary: Seungkwan is a camboy and after months of trying, he invites you, his best friend, to help him spice up one of his streams

WC: 5.8k

Warnings: Pet names (pretty girl, pretty, baby), fingering, unprotected sex (be smart), light bondage, some voyeurism and exhibitionism aspects, prominent sub space, spanking, multiple orgasms (fem receiving), Seungkwan is such a soft dom in this but he doesn't take any shit

A/N: Yall I know it's been a long time but I refuse to give up and honestly?? I kinda ate with this one. If you like it, please check out my commission and donation links, drop a comment or a reblog, it would be appreciated!

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @snow-pegasus // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

Living with Seungkwan was nice. He had friends over sometimes, and they could get a little loud sometimes, but they were always polite towards you, and they really did try not to cause problems for you. Seungkwan himself was a good friend, someone you knew you could rely on to handle the grocery trips when you were busy, or to keep the dishes done up. He was a shoulder you could lean on, which might have something to do with the two of you meeting during what was, objectively speaking, your worst year of college.

Maybe the best thing about Seungkwan was that no matter how much he would tease you, he never judged your decisions, and you never judged his. It was easy for the two of you to mind your own business. So it was a bit of a surprise when he came bursting into your room after a couple sharp knocks. He didn’t wait for an answer, and you were grateful that you were actually wearing pants this time.

“Hey, quick question. Are you busy tomorrow night?” He asked. You looked up at where he was standing just inside your doorway.

“Hello to you too, Kwannie,” You said, sitting up in bed and stretching your arms over your head. You didn’t catch the way his eyes flicked down to the sliver of your stomach that exposed itself. “You should really learn to knock. I could have been busy. Or, like, changing or something.”

“Y/N,” He whined, jutting out his bottom lip into a dramatic pout. You whined back before huffing.

“Relax, relax. I’m sorry. No, I’m not doing anything tomorrow night. Why?”

He moved to flop onto the end of your bed.

“Okay, so you know how I do streams, right?” He asked. You nodded, remembering how awkward the conversation had been when he’d explained it, how nervous he was to tell you that he had a side hustle as a camboy. You, however, hadn’t thought anything much about it, which you could tell helped ease his mind. It never mattered to you what he did in his free time, especially when his pocket money bought you little treats from everywhere he went. Besides, anyone as hot as Seungkwan would be a fool not to profit off of their looks in one way or another.

“Mhm,” You hardly looked up from your phone, just enough to urge him to continue talking.

“So…I had an idea for how to change it up this week but I need help.” He said. That had you putting your phone down. What exactly was he asking of you?

“Look, if we’re going to a sex store, you’re paying.” You said. You watched a faded pink crawl up his neck, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“I wasn’t gonna suggest that. I think I have everything I need for now. It’s just a weird request, so you can’t freak out on me. I’m warning you!”

“Consider me warned,” You motioned for him to carry on.

“Would you want to join me for the stream? Like…let me touch you or whatever?”

You lost any semblance of coherent thoughts at his question. Sure, you knew that Seungkwan masturbated for strangers on the internet, and you knew he’d offhandedly mentioned how people would be interested in seeing him with a partner, but you knew he’d never wanted to share something like that with anyone he didn’t trust inside and out. More than freaking you out, the invitation flattered you (and maybe sparked a heat low in your stomach). He trusted you enough to invite you into his most vulnerable space.

Unfortunately, your silence on the matter did nothing but make him nervous.

“You can just say no, I’m not gonna be mad.” He said, moving to get up. You frowned, reaching to catch his hand and stop him before he got too far.

“I wasn’t gonna say no. I was just thinking is all.” You said with a shrug. “I know you wanna make your undying fans happy, but I don’t want you to bring me into this unless it’s something you’re absolutely sure about.”

Your sincerity seemed to catch him off guard, but he shook it quickly except for the curling warmth rising in his chest.

‘I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t sure. I’ve been meaning to ask you for a couple months. Didn’t know how to without making it…weird.”

“It’s us, Kwan, aren’t things always weird?” You teased him. You watched the way the tension washed out of him, the way his shoulders relaxed, and you found yourself relaxing with him.

A little over twenty-four hours had passed when you found yourself stepping into Seungkwan’s bedroom. It was odd, and the nerves were beginning to settle in your stomach. It’s not like you were some fresh and pure virgin, and if there was anyone that you trusted to fuck you on camera in front of dozens - if not hundreds - of people, it was Seungkwan. But now you were about to have your entire body on display, about to hand over the reins and let him do as he saw fit for the people watching him. The people watching you.

“You can make yourself comfortable,” He said, motioning towards his bed. You’d been inside his room plenty of times, and maybe you’d taken a peek at his streams once or twice, just to see what exactly it was he did, but this felt different. You knew what this room looked like from almost every angle, but seeing it like this in person and not through the tiny screen of your phone was new. The purple LED lights set the mood, washing his room in a cool glow that made the entire place feel like it was moving in slow motion.

You perched on the end of his bed, watching the ease with which he moved around, the confidence in his stride. It wasn’t unfamiliar, this version of him where he took up space and commanded a room, but the context added something in it that sent ripples through the pool of arousal settling into your stomach. He sat in his desk chair, adjusting his set up and bobbing his head to the quiet music that he had playing in the background. You admired the way that the dim lighting washed over him, casting shadows against his already stunning features and making him that much harder to look away from.

“Did you hear me?” He asked. You blinked the lust out of your eyes and gave him an apologetic smile instead of an answer. “If you’re nervous you can say so. We don’t have to do this.”

He could see through you without even trying. Damn him and his observant nature.

“I’m fine, seriously. I want to do this with you. New experiences or whatever, right?” You rolled your neck in a slow circle, letting your shoulders lift up and drop back, stretching the nerves out of your muscles and forcing yourself to relax. This wasn’t you, you weren’t generally so uptight. “What was it you were saying?”

“The set up over here will have the stream on it. If you’re worried about what people will see, you can check it on this one.” He nodded towards one of the screens in question, then pointed to the next one. “That one will have the chat on it.”

You nodded along, listening to him explain the set up and showing you what the viewers would see, it was exactly what you’d expected it to be, nothing too intimidating. Still, you were grateful for his explanations and reassurance.

“And you’re just gonna…fuck me?” You asked, not entirely sure what to expect. You’d discussed your limits, established a safeword for if you needed out. You’d talked about what you were into, what you’d never tried before, going to extents that made you squirm. By this point, you were pretty sure that Seungkwan knew your sexual preferences better than any partner you’d ever had in the past.

Seungkwan laughed, and the sound seemed into your bones, washing away the last of your worries. That was your Seungkwan, you were safe in his hands.

“Not right away. Gonna talk to the chat, touch you, get everyone all worked up. You don’t have to say anything, just follow my lead. Listen to my voice. Let me make you feel good. The teasing is half the fun, it’s the part they always like the most.”

He was speaking so casually, but the certainty in his voice was doing something to you. You nodded, trying to picture how things were going to happen. Where would he touch you? Would he be able to find all the places that made you squirm or would he be too preoccupied with his chit-chat?

“Then I’ll do what we talked about. Play with you, make sure you feel good. It really is about you this time around.”

This time around. It implied he’d bring you back, put on another show with you, maybe a bit more selfishly. One that was about him next time. You remembered how he’d explained that his fans wanted to see how he’d take care of a partner, presumably to imagine it was them. That was fine by you, and if you held a little piece of something special with Seungkwan, well, that was nobody’s business but your own.

He went through the process of getting the stream ready, and you say quietly, watching him slip into his element. It reminded you of when he’d host get-togethers for your friends, how careful he was to make sure that everything was perfect so nobody had to worry about a thing. You wondered if he’d do the same thing when he was playing with you.

“Camera on in one minute.” He said, moving so he was propped against his pillows, guiding you to sit between his legs. You did as he said, pressing your back to his front and leaning your head back into his shoulder, nervous eyes trained on the screen where the two of you were sitting. It gave a perfect view of the two of you, his arms wrapped around you, hands settling against your lower stomach, and his fingers tracing against the waistband of your pants.

The viewers started rolling in just after the stream started, dedicated viewers who expected him just like clockwork. They greeted him with nothing but adoration and excitement, and Seungkwan greeted them back, calling some of them by name and thanking them for their tips on the last steam, insisting that he’d put on a good show again, that he’d work hard to meet their standards.

You really weren’t paying too much attention to what he was saying, just listening to that smooth cadence of his voice and feeling the way his hands brushed down over your exposed thighs, thumbs tracing the line of the shorts you’d put on for this. His hands were warm and smooth, kneading at the flesh of your thighs and dragging his dull nails against the insides of them. You wondered if he noticed the way your body was melting into him with each pass of his palms against your skin.

After several minutes of focusing on nothing but the heat thrumming in your stomach, you found yourself fighting the urge to wiggle, and then he was riding his hands higher, stroking up your sies and pushing your shirt out of the way so that he could slip underneath, caressing your sids, along your stomach, swirling shapes that blended in with the dips of his voice as he spoke to the camera.

You’d very nearly forgotten the viewers, so focused in on the way that Seungkwan was familiarizing himself with your body. Nobody had ever taken this much time to touch you without even taking off your shirt. You had a fleeting thought that maybe you’d have to worry about that eventually, about him being able to take you apart and put you back together better than anyone else you knew. That thought, however, slipped through your fingers when his hands moved up to cup your breasts over your bra. The touch made your back arch involuntarily, chasing more pressure, more skin on skin contact, more anything because that simply wasn’t cutting it.

He laughed, voice swirling in your head and fogging it up enough that you didn’t even have time to be insecure when he pulled your shirt off and cast it aside. You opened your eyes, the glaring image of the two of you catching your attention, and the red light staring back at your nearly bare torso. You chewed on your lip, and Seungkwan dipped closer so that the mic wouldn’t pick up his voice.

“Are you okay?” He asked. You nodded slowly, and his lips ghosted over the weak spot just below your ear. Your breath hitched when he flicked his tongue over it, waiting until your muscles gave out on you to suckle on it, drawing the tiniest whine from you. Then he huffed out a chuckle against the shell of your ear. “Good. I’m not done with you yet.”

His voice was dark, heady, and you were spinning in the abyss of it. The room felt like it was tilting at an odd angle, your stomach flip flopping and your body being held up only by the arm he had wrapped around you again, keeping you steady against him while he teased the curve of your cleavage above your bra.

“Yeah, she’s never been on camera before,” He said, voice no longer aimed towards you, but back at the audience that was becoming more and more antsy to have his attention back. You remembered then that people were watching you, watching the way that the slightest touch from him had you pressing your thighs together for a sliver of friction. “I know, she’s so pretty, isn’t she?”

A warmth crept into your cheeks at the easy praise, words spilling out as if you weren’t even there. It shouldn’t have turned you on the way that it did, but you couldn’t deny the wetness dampening your panties as his fingers dipped under the cups of your bra, tugging them down slowly enough for you to stop him if you wanted. You didn’t want to. So he pulled the fabric down under your breasts and let his hands idly knead at them. He wasn’t chasing your pleasure the way that you were, just taking his time touching you as his eyes scanned the chat screen. The praise, the requests for him to strip with you, the ones asking to see more of you.

You didn't notice it in your state, so focused on his touch that you weren’t even looking at him on the screen, but a sort of heated jealousy flickered across his face. He didn’t mind sharing you with his audience, that’s what had gotten you into his bed in the first place, but he didn’t like the idea of letting them take over, letting them make you feel good instead while he just followed their orders.

His fingers got harsher, brushing against your nipples before pinching them between his fingertips and rolling them. You whined, back arching to ease some of the sharp pain, and he bit back a devastated sound at how pretty you sounded. For him.

His eyes returned to the screen, reading the comments as they rushed by, thanking people for the tips rolling in as he continued to pinch and tweak your sensitive buds. He tugged and twisted, flicked at them until you were nearly panting, legs desperately pressing together as if that would make you less of a worked up mess.

“Stay still,” He mumbled sharply, easing up on his torment and instead kneading your breasts in large, warm palms as if to soothe the sting of arousal that he’d caused.

He continued like that, hands suddenly gentle and much more patient than you could stand. You whimpered after a few moments of his attention straying front ou, your hand finding his wrist and guiding it with feather light touches towards the waistband of your shorts. He laughed.

“Need something, baby?” He asked. The name was new, and it only sent your mind spiraling further into depraved desperation.

“Need you. Please?” You said, and it was quiet enough that you weren’t even sure if it could be heard through the stream. The only reassurance that your begging was noticed was the influx of pinging as more and more money rolled in.

“Need me? Im right here, pretty girl. What could you need?” He taunted, and you huffed.

“Need you to touch me. Wanna cum,” You said, the world around you fading out completely as you gave him exactly what he was looking for. He seemed satisfied, nudging you to sit up straighter so that he could pull his shirt off and discard it. Then he was pulling you back, pressing your bare skin to his, radiating warmth that had you melting, your skin burning with want, and need, and pure molten lava at that point.

Once you were settled back, he pushed your shorts out of his way, guiding them down your soft thighs so you could kick them off, leaving you just in the flimsiest, cutest pair of panties that you owned. The scrap of fabric barely covered you to begin with, and it was nearly transparent with your wetness, stuck to your folds. Seungkwan reached down, hooking your legs over his so he could hold you open for everyone to see, his fingers tracing your exposed thighs and leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

You tried not to fold the moment you got his attention, you really did, but it was easier said than down when his touch skirted along the edge of your panties, so horribly close to your pussy that it made your hips back and your voice come out as a trembling whimper.

“Can you guys see how wet she is?” He asked, his voice dripping pure charm that only served to make your hold leak a little more. Then his fingers were pressing your panties against you, dragging them against your slicked clit in slow, torturous circles. You nearly sobbed, eyes opening to look up at him. The face that he looked breathtaking even from this angle was cruel, downright killer.

“She’s soaked already. You know, I knew she’d like being watched but I think she likes it almost as much as I do,” He laughed, and you huffed in protest, but he didn’t stop his touch regardless. “How many times do you think we can make her cum? Two? Three?”

You couldn’t bite your tongue this time, a scoff slipping out as your frustration built enough to sting between your thighs.

“Haven’t even proved you could make me cum once. How could they know how many times? Maybe one of them should just fuck me instead. Bet they’d be nice to me.” You snapped. You realized your mistake the moment you spoke. Seungkwan’s fingers stilled, his other hand coming up to grasp at your waist, tugging you hard enough that you couldn’t even consider not giving in. He guided you to flip over, settling you over his lap.

“Is that how you talk to me?” He asked, tugging your panties down to expose the curve of your ass to the cool air of his room. You shook your head harshly, trying to mumble out apologies, but only managing a series of pouty whines and please that he didn’t seem interested in listening to. “I didn’t fucking think so. I know you have manners, let’s make sure you use them next time.”

His hand came down, harsh and stinging against one side of your ass, your hips jolting and scrambling to escape the pain. He pulled them back into place, kneading your ass cheek beneath his palm.

“What do you say?” He asked. You buried your face in your arm, turning just enough to peek at him out of the corner of your eye.

“I’m sorry, baby, please,” You whimpered. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Oh, you promise?” He taunted. You didn’t have a chance to answer before he was spanking you again. This time it was less hard, but followed by two more just as quickly. You yelped, kicking your feet up helplessly to try and protect your backside. He just pushed them down, taking a moment to rub at the abused flesh before giving you one more. You sniffled, though there weren’t any tears, just a pathetic thrum of humiliation and arousal washing over you.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, nuzzling into his thigh and leaving a soft kiss there as if it would take away from your misbehavior.

“Thank you pretty girl. Did so well for me.” He praised, tipping your head up and leaning down to kiss you. The feeling took you by surprise, the softness of his lips against yours wasn’t something that had gone unimagined, but it was better in real life, and so vastly opposite his harsh discipline from moments before. Nevertheless, it was chaste, and his eyes were still dark when he pulled away.

“I think you deserve a reward for being so good. Used your manners and everything.” He brushed his fingers down the curve of your jaw, gentle and adoring, then his eyes flicked up towards the camera. “What do you think? Is it time for a reward?”

His voice was sweet, and you wiggled your hips, half hoping that it would sway the viewers to your side and coax him into making you cum. Your pussy was throbbing with the need to be touched, to be spread open and stretched out, and the feeling was beginning to become uncomfortable.

He hummed, not speaking as he read the comments, just carefully focusing on the scroll of words that you weren’t in the headspace to make out. Then he was knocking your thighs apart, keeping you laid out there over his lap, and sliding his fingers down to your needy cunt. He spread your wetness along your lower lips, coating his skin in it before stopping to flick them harshly along your clit, back and forth at such a pace that you wanted to close your thighs. The only thing keeping them open was his forearm laid against one of them and the awkward position that he had you laid in.

You bit back a desperate whine as your orgasm crashed into you surprisingly fast, your body writhing in his lap as he continued to work you through it, rubbing fast circles against your clit and leaving your walls to clench and flutter, unsatisfyingly empty. The orgasm did nothing but make you more desperate for him.

“Please,” You whined as you came down from it, need burning hot and heavy in your lower stomach. He smiled, using his clean hand to stroke your hair away from your face. “Wanna feel you inside,”

He groaned, although it was nearly closer to a whine, wordlessly complaining about your impatience, and the effect it was having on him, and how it was no doubt ruining his carefully thought out plans for the stream. He pouted, bottom lip jutting out at the camera as he read the influx of comments.

“Aish,” He hissed under his breath. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

You processed that he was talking to his viewers as he maneuvered you off of his lap so he could stand up. The bulge in his pants was obvious, the outline of his cock showing against the soft fabric. He didn’t do anything about it though, pulling you carefully to sit up instead, your back turned to the camera and you perched up on your knees. He pulled a spool of dark blue rope from his bedside drawer, moving your arms behind your back and carefully wrapping your wrists, trying your forearms together and giving them a tug. You hummed out a sound at the feeling, the slightest strain tugging in your shoulders and the rope rubbing against your arms leaving you with even more lava rushing through your veins.

He tipped your head up, making you look at him and silently questioning if you were comfortable enough. You nodded ever so slightly, looking up at your roommate with the widest lust blown eyes as if that would make him speed this whole ordeal up. You knew better though, knew he wouldn’t go easy on you. Especially not when you had an entire crowd to entertain.

“Needy little whore. Cute,” He hummed, pulling you around so that your back was facing him, your profiles to the camera. He pulled you back by your upper arm, catching you steadily against his chest when your balance gave way to his force. He reached around you, turning your chin up to catch your lips in a fast, messy kiss. It was all tongue, and saliva, and the taste of him as he practically devoured your mouth.

His hands roamed down your front, tracing your curves, down your stomach, before finally finding their way to your dripping core. He pulled your legs open wider, not caring about the little whimper that you let out in response to losing your balance again. After all, he had no intentions of letting you fall, and maybe you had a habit of forgetting how strong he was until he was keeping you upright with a single arm around you.

Two of his fingers slid through your folds, spreading them open for a third to tease against your hungry hole, sliding in slowly before sliding right back out and continuing to tease you. You were too breathless to complain, his lips leaving yours and dripping wet kisses down your neck and shoulder, then back up again, nipping at your earlobe before sucking what you were sure would be a very bold mark at the crook of your neck.

Then two of his fingers were filling you up, and your body threatened to fall forward, your legs trying to snap shut around his hand but in no position to do so. So instead he continued working you open, fingers fucking into you with the lewdest sound, pushing your wetness out and letting it run down his hand as he worked you open for him. You could feel his impatience in the way that he worked a third finger inside along with the first two, the sting earning a broken moan from you. It didn’t last, turning into a burning need for more, more, more. That’s all you could think about, greedy little whore. Just for him.

It took you a considerable moment to realize that he was the one whispering those words to you as he stuffed you full of his fingers, your mind getting lost somewhere along the way and focusing entirely on the sound of his voice, and the feeling of his bare chest pressed to your back, and your arms trapped between the two of you, and the beads of sweat slipping down your collarbone. You swore you could feel everything all at once and process none of it at all.

When he pulled his fingers out of you, you let out what could only be called a sob of devastation, and he laughed, easing you down so your weight was resting on your front, balanced carefully on your shoulder with your cheek pressed into the bed. You looked over at him as best as you could, watching him shuck off his pants and underwear so the both of you were completely naked. You could only just see the way his hand wrapped around his cock, fingers smearing your slick arousal onto his length as he tugged it slowly. He looked so pretty, the softly sculpted muscles of his stomach tensing, his chest rising and falling with each breath as he tried to get himself impossibly harder. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel his eyes fixated on the clenching of your pussy, the way you were leaking all over your thighs for him.

“Baby, please fuck me. Been waiting for so long, just…please.” You huffed, wiggling your hips back towards him, and you caught a momentary glimpse of his eyes clouding over as he watched you. His free hand came to knead one of your ass cheeks, spreading you open and taking in the way your hole was begging for him. He cursed under his breath, muttering something to the camera that you didn’t hear – and, quite frankly, didn’t give a shit about.

“Alright, pretty, just hold tight.”

Seungkwan guided his cock to tap against your folds a few times, then pressing into you slowly, inch by agonizing inch. He wasn’t terribly long, but he was thick enough that it brought the sting of tears as he filled you up. Your hands grasped at the air, not entirely able to grab anything but each other, which you did. Your back ached, burying your face deeper into his bedding to try and muffle the fucked out cry that left your lips as his cock dragged the length of your g-spot. Your stomach flipped and tightened as his hips stilled, pressed harshly against your ass. His hands were gripping your hips like a lifeline, surely leaving bruises in the shape of his fingertips, pulling you back into him so he could hit just a little deeper inside of you.

You weren’t given an opportunity to find words before he was puling out of you and sliding home again, harder this time, a little faster, until his pace was set and his hips were meeting yours hard enough that you just knew your ass was turning pink. The only sounds in the room were the slick slide of his cock inside of you, the skin on skin of his hips meeting your backside, and the downright shattered moans that you were letting out with each of his thrusts, the sound stunted and jumpy as he fucked you dumb.

Seungkwan grabbed your bound arms, pulling you up onto your knees and using your shoulder as leverage to drag you back into him. Your entire body shuddered at the new angle, head dropping forward and mouth hanging open as drool pooled at the corner of your lips. Somehow, despite knowing what it was he did, it had never occurred to you that maybe Seungkwan was an absolute sex god.

The hand on your shoulder slipped around, fingers splaying prettily against your throat, not choking you but simply letting you know that he was there, that he could, and you groaned a string of curses as you lost all sense of space and time. The only thing that existed was him, his body, the way it was connecting with yours. Just the two of you and the breathless grunts that he let out against your neck.

“Gonna cum,” You warned him, your fingers managing to drag against his stomach as he fucked into you, and the next thing you knew your vision was bursting with white, and Seungkwan was growling as you came around him, squeezing him so tight that he could hardly even fuck you through it.

Your ears were ringing, and it felt a little like you were on a boat when he laid you down on your front again, pulling out to shoot his load onto the insides of your thighs, marking your skin with his seed and stroking himself through it. He was panting then, the first thing that you could process, and you listened to that sound alone, ignoring the slightly off putting feeling of his cum running down your legs. You just nuzzled deeper into his blankets, finally processing that he’d laid you down.

You faintly heard him say his goodbyes, thanking everyone for their gifts and promising to bring you back again soon if you were interested. It registered slowly that you’d been streaming with him that entire time, that you’d experienced the most earth shattering orgasm of your life in front of who knows how many people. But it didn’t matter, you couldn’t care. Not when he sat down beside you, the camera off, and reached down to stroke your hair away from your sweat-dampened face. You blinked up at him, a sleepy smile curling onto your face.

“How do you feel, pretty thing?” He asked, carefully freeing your arms and rolling you to lay on his back. He took his time to massage each arm from wrist to shoulder and back again, making sure that your circulation was okay, mostly since he was pretty well convinced that you wouldn’t have noticed it if you lost feeling in them completely.

“Good. Really good,” You told him, eyes heavy again, so you gave in and closed them.

“Good, I’m glad. You did so well, let me take such good care of you. But you gotta stay with me while I get you cleaned up, okay? You can do that right? Just stay with Kwannie,”

You hummed, your heart skipping in your chest. Kwannie, your Kwannie. You curled closer to him, cheek pressed against his still bare thigh, and he chuckled, reaching down to brush your cheek.

“Can you stay here while I go get a towel to clean you up? Then you can nap and we’ll shower later.”

You nodded thoughtlessly, and he took that as his sign to get up. When he did, however, you reached out to grab his wrist, and he turned as fast as humanly possible to look at you, eyes clouded over with worry.

“Are you gonna nap with me?” You asked, voice so tiny and heavy with sleep that he swore his heart might melt.

“Yeah pretty, I’ll sleep too. Just let me clean us up, okay?” He asked, leaning down to kiss your forehead, and you nodded obediently, not even trying to move a muscle and settle under the blankets. He disappeared from his room for a moment, grabbing a wet cloth and cleaning himself. A few minutes later he returned, finding you sound asleep, his pillow pulled up against your chest and your face squished into it.

Seungkwan looked at you, naked and surely chilly in his bed, but so entirely relaxed after sleeping with him, and the warmth that bloomed in his chest made him question if the two of you were ever really just friends to begin with.

139 notes · View notes

shuadotcom · 9 months

Text

Curse The Stars | HJS (M)

🪩 Summary: Meeting someone at the disco to take home for the night is customary for you, especially in your line of work. But meeting this man on this night at this disco feels more like fate as Joshua becomes much more than just your routine one night stand.

🪩 Pairing: Salesman!Joshua x Starlet Afab!Reader

🪩 Genres + AUs: Smut, fluff, a little bitty bit of angst, strangers to lovers, fwb to lovers, 1970s Hollywood au, porn with a lil plot

🪩 Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI)

🪩 Words: 8.4k

🪩 Warnings: Profanity, mentions of alcohol/drinking, poorly written 70s themes and slang (I’m a 90s baby I did my best okay)

🪩 Smut Warnings: Dirty talk, oral (f & m receiving), face-fucking, praise, fingering, pussy slapping, spitting (it’s tame lol), marking, doggy, mating press, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstim, creampie, reader is called good girl once, breeding kink?, big dick!joshua as usual

🪩 Note: Here’s my fic for @svthub’s 70s;teen collab!

This fic was heavily inspired by Virgo’s Groove by Beyoncé. It’s my 2nd favorite song off of Renaissance and as soon as I heard it I knew I needed to write some horny little songfic. At the same time it came out I was rewatching some Home Run performances and Joshua in those stages drives me absolutely insaneeee and here we are 🤗 This was supposed to be much shorter but I got carried away and added a little more plot than intended oops.

Thank you to my amazing, sweet, lovely beta @horanghater. I promise I’ll stop asking you to beta for me last minute!!! 🫶🏽🫶🏽 And thank you to the talented and wonderful @playmetheclassics for always making the most gorgeous banners for me! 🥺 💛

“Hi there beautiful, can I trouble you for a dance?”

This isn’t the first time you’ve been approached - not tonight or any night when you find yourself out on the town. You’ve already had a handful of people propose a dance, but all of them were men that did nothing but stare at your tits or give off the finest of sleazebag energy.

This man though…this man is different.

His round eyes stay locked on yours, an unassuming, even sweet, smile plastered onto his lips that makes the corners quirk upwards. The smile reaches those brown eyes that bat at you and render you speechless for a moment.

He’s pristinely styled, with perfectly slicked back white-blond hair, and wearing fancy attire like everyone else is; this is a new disco, and only the people with money or connections are allowed in. A freshly pressed blue suit, a very fitting lavender turtleneck, and shiny chains that glisten under the bright lights overhead, all cling to his body in ways that make your eyes linger on him longer than you should.

When he notices you ogling him, his smile becomes more of a smirk, one full of charm, and on any other man, it might’ve been suspicious, but this man has an aura to him that doesn’t make you immediately put your guard up.

“Sure,” you finally say, putting your hand in his outstretched one. With a small wave to your friends who are all giggling behind you, you’re off to the dancefloor, the man’s much larger hand engulfing yours.

With “Last Dance” having just been released, it’s the only thing that’s been playing everywhere you go for the past few weekends and tonight is no different. It plays over the speakers while you and the handsome man dance together, your bodies seeming to know where the other is moving without even having to say anything. Any hesitation that you’d enjoy your time with him fades away as the song plays, both of you singing the lyrics along with Donna Summer as he spins you around.

Typically after the first dance, you’d prepare to have your partner offer to buy you a drink in the hopes of letting the liquor loosen you up, or they’d even skip straight to the part where they’d offer to find a hotel room nearby for you to be alone.

Once again, though, he is different.

This handsome stranger simply asks if you want to keep dancing and you do. Song after song, you stay on the dancefloor under the bright, multi-colored lights, laughing and singing with him until you’re both finally in need of a rest.

“I’m Joshua,” he says loudly when there’s a slight, brief lull in the music. “Joshua Hong.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.” He smiles that sweet smile again and repeats your name back to you.

“Such a gorgeous name, but I would expect nothing less from someone so gorgeous.” The line is cheesy and you’ve heard it too many times, yet somehow, Joshua still manages to make your skin hot.

“I bet you say that to everyone you dance with!”

“Only the ones I really like.” The mischievous quirk of his lips has you rolling your eyes, but you still think it’s cute.

That’s when you decide that you want to be the one to speed the night along this time.

“Wanna get out of here? My place isn’t that far from here.”

Joshua seems surprised, though only momentarily, at your bluntness, but he nods, taking your hand in his again and letting you guide him through the crowd, catching your friends’ attention with a wave on the way out and going out into the crisp fall night.

“How’d you get here?” he asks once you’re out of the doors.

“One of my friends’ boyfriends dropped us off.” He makes a noise of acknowledgement and leads you both to the busy parking lot full of people standing around and laughing, the good times spilling out from inside the bustling building.

Joshua approaches a sleek, teal convertible Cadillac. When you reach the passenger side, he holds the door open for you, gesturing you inside with a bow and flourish of his hand.

“Out of sight! I shoulda known you’d have a fancy car.” With a whistle, you slide in and he gently shuts the door behind you.

“And why is that?”

“Most actors your age do. I would know - I’m an actress. I’ve had many a fellow actor try and get me in his Caddy.”

Joshua gets in on his side, tilting his head in question. “You think I’m an actor?”

“You’re not?” He shakes his head. “Oh.”

“Why’d you assume that?” At being questioned you clam up, clearing your throat a few times.

“Well, you’re just, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“Ugh, because you’re crazy handsome, okay?! You have a face that should be on film, but don’t go getting a big head about it!” You can tell he’s going to do exactly that, the corners of his mouth raising in an infuriatingly attractive way.

“Well thank you, beautiful. Good to know you find me ‘crazy handsome’.”

“Don’t start! Now I have to wonder what it is you actually do.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Are you a screenwriter? You seem like you have a lot going on upstairs.”

“Thank you, I think? But no way. I wouldn’t even know where to begin writing a movie.”

“Okay, then a singer?”

“I do enjoy music.” At your victorious look, Joshua shakes his head. “But nope, not a singer.”

“What about -”

“What about telling me how to get your place so we can leave the parking lot?”

“Oops.” You had been so wrapped up in marveling at the fresh leather and knowing a little more about your partner for the night that you nearly forgot you’re still surrounded by the nightlife in the parking lot.

The drive to your apartment is only about ten minutes away. Between telling Joshua where to turn, you sing along to the radio. Now that you’re not being inundated with booming music, you get a chance to hear Joshua’s singing voice and it only serves to leave you breathless.

His voice is so soft and sweet yet confident as he hits the notes effortlessly. Momentarily you falter, forgetting to warn him of the next turn simply because you’re too busy staring at him slack-jawed.

He has to call your name to bring your brain back from the Joshua-shaped hole it was slipping into just listening to him. You point out the final right turn to him, doing your best to ignore how much more handsome he is out of the bright disco lights with just the moonlight illuminating his immaculate features.

As soon as you step inside, he’s taking in your apartment, complementing your pad, your choice of furniture, and the paintings hanging on your walls. You, on the other hand, have only one thing on your mind.

When you approach Joshua, stopping him mid-sentence with your lips as he’s asking you a question about your record collection, he’s surprised, but only momentarily as he kisses you back, warm hands cupping your face.

Joshua fucks you stupid into your mattress that night. Making you cum over and over again with his dirty words and names and his big dick keeping you full and satisfied more than any other hookups from nights past.

When he finally lets you rest, body spent and listless, you all but pass out on his chest with him making no move to leave you alone for the night which is enough to have you dreaming about him when your tired eyes slip closed.

When you wake up the following day it’s to an empty bed and a note on your nightstand.

Sorry to leave you like this beautiful, but I’ve got work.

I’d love to dance with you again. Call me xo

Joshua

His phone number stares back at you at the end of his note and you mull over the idea of calling him before putting the note in your nightstand drawer instead. You can’t say you’ve ever had a hookup earnestly leave their number, so you need to let the thought of calling him back ruminate.

By the next weekend, Joshua is still on your mind and you find out that you can say the same for him. You’re back at the disco with your friends, the one you met him at, and when you’re at the bar getting drinks, a familiar voice sounds in your ears.

“You know, I waited by the phone for you all week. I was pretty hurt when every time it rang you weren’t on the other line.”

You practically jump out of your skin when Joshua appears, a pout on his pretty lips as he hovers close to your side.

“I…I um,” you stammer. You hadn’t expected to see him again, especially not so soon.

“If you don’t wanna see me again-”

“I do!” The words tumble out, cutting him off and he snickers at your eagerness. “I mean, I do wanna see you again. Truth be told, I’ve never had someone leave me their number and honestly want me to call them. It’s usually just for show.” Anytime a number was scrawled on your arm or a business card was left and you called the day after, you were usually met with disinterest or a nonchalant promise to meet up again. They never kept their promises.

“I wouldn’t leave my number if I didn’t want you to use it. I swear.” Joshua’s smile is sincere. His eyes meet yours, pinning you in place, and soon neither of you are moving or speaking - only searching the other for the answer. Eyes are the window to the soul, and when you search Joshua’s all you can find is honesty and gentleness and you allow yourself to believe it.

“Okay. I’ll call you later this week?”

“I hope you do, but do I have to wait that long to spend time with you or do you wanna get under that disco ball with me?”

The idea to buy a drink is forgotten when you take Joshua’s hand and get lost in him and the music all over again.

That night ends up the same as before with you in his car being driven to your apartment.

Tonight, though, your destination is your couch, talking to one another, drinks in hand to keep the mood comfortable. Joshua is an incredible listener, nodding along in a way that you know he’s truly taking your words in, and asking you questions about yourself. He asks what got you into acting and where you’re from. He asks about your friends, your favorite restaurants, and your favorite things to do when you’re not working.

If you rack your brain, you can’t remember the last time you had a meaningful conversation with a partner. It’s…different, in a good way.

You find out that he was invited to the disco you met at by a friend of his named Taehyung, whose name you had heard in your circle before. Hollywood isn’t that big a place.

“So, I completely forgot to ask, what movies have you been in? Truth be told, I don't recognize your name or your face, and believe me, I'd remember if I saw such a stone-cold fox on the big screen.” His words are flirty, but he asks with genuine interest.

“Well, I’ve only been in a few films, but they’re probably not ones you’ve seen.”

“Try me.” After you name the five medium-sized, indie films you have a spot on the credits in, Joshua tries to nod along but you can tell how obvious it is that he hasn’t seen any of them.

“That’s okay. I wanna be the next Pam Grier or Cicely Tyson, but I’ve still got a long way to go.”

“Hey, I’m sure you will be. No - I know you will. I can tell you’re gonna be a real star.” There’s no hint of sarcasm behind what he says. He’s so sure of himself - of his words - and a warmth overtakes you, settling deep in your chest.

“Thank you.” Your words are bashful and he seems to notice, scooting across the mustard-colored fabric of your couch, closer to you.

“Anyway, what do you do other than make people all flustered just for fun?”

“I work with people,” Joshua answers with a chuckle, taking a sip of his drink.

“You work with people?”

“Yep, all types of people. Demanding people, nice people, some of the worst people I’ve ever met. You name it.”

“I work with people too, Joshua, and we already established you’re not an actor.”

“I could never be an actor. I don’t think I have it in me.”

“Okay, so what are you then?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you do?”

“For what?”

“For work, Joshua!” Throwing your hands in the air at his back and forth you nearly knock your drink over, but catch it in time, setting the glass on the oak coffee table, not noticing when you completely miss your coaster.

Joshua laughs, commenting on how cute you look frowning at him like this. “I’m a salesman.”

“Is that all? Jesus, stop being so weird and elusive. What do you sell? Houses? Some fancy, shiny cars or something?”

His expression stays neutral, suddenly transfixed by the ice swirling in his cup.

“Joshua?”

He heaves a sigh and finally meets your eyes.

“Washing machines,” his words come out in a rush. “Appliances in general, but I uh, I’ve sold the most washing machines in my department.” He takes a hearty sip of his drink, not meeting your stare.

“Okay? What’s the problem with that?”

“I - you don’t care?”

“Why would I?”

Joshua chuckles, running a hand through his neatly styled platinum hair. “Whenever I’m on this side of town, the second someone finds out I’m not an actor or model or whatever they assume I am, usually they lose interest in me. I know we’ve only seen each other twice but I really like spending time with you. I was worried you’d tell me to get out or something.”

The man whom you’ve only known for a week at best and who always looks so confident and self-assured is wringing his hands in front of you, an air of nervousness surrounding him.

“Lucky for you, I’m not as shallow as the other folks in Hollywood and I don’t care what you do. Besides, spending time with you is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” Joshua seems to search your face for any hint of doubt behind your words, but he finds none.

He takes this as a cue to lean over and kiss you and you don’t think twice to kiss him back, melting into his lips and his hold.

Once again, Joshua fucks you within an inch of your life, staying over again, but this time he doesn’t have work until a little later so he sleeps in with you. After breakfast, he props you on your laminate counters and rocks your world, the remainder of your eggs and toast left cold on the side.

Joshua Hong is quickly proving to be someone you’re unable to let go of and you’re starting to believe that you don’t want to.

You and Joshua expertly fall into a groove. The next few months with him are the same; meeting at the disco on the weekends, sometimes he comes over during the week after you’ve been on the phone for a few hours, and he has sex with you on every surface of your apartment (even a few times in his Cadillac he had saved up for), then he sleeps over and goes home, only for you two to do it all over again. It becomes routine and is the very definition of your relationship with him for months.

Joshua is easy to be with and talk to and what you have works with him - you’re comfortable with him - more comfortable than you’ve ever been with a man.

That’s why it’s so easy to fall in love with him.

You don’t notice it at first and you’re not sure when your enjoyment for being around him morphed into a need to see him or when you went from butterflies fluttering in your stomach when he complimented you to full-on fawning over him internally, but it snuck up on you and hit you like a bus.

The first time it dawns on you is when you’re both cuddled up on your couch, watching a new episode of The Jeffersons. George Jefferson makes a joke that you both find particularly funny, causing you both to erupt in a fit of laughter. You peek over at Joshua and you feel your heart skip a beat. His eyes are in the shape of crescent moons (which you’re realizing you always notice and it always makes you melt) and his radiant smile that makes his whole face light up is as infectious as always, and you can’t help but beam even more. His laugh, always so airy and melodic, rings through your apartment and you think to yourself how much you wish you could hear it every day for the rest of forever.

The next time your feelings make themselves known is when he’s over and he offers to cook you dinner, which you eagerly accept.

It’s just a simple pasta dish, nothing too fancy, but seeing Joshua float around your kitchen in your frilly red apron does something to you. Every so often he’ll pause in singing along to the record playing in the living room to let you taste the sauce or the noodles, sometimes planting a kiss on your forehead or cheek before feeding you. Your heart (and your pussy) clenches at how attractive he looks and at the thought of seeing him like this more often. And by “more often”, your brain attempts to conjure up the question, “What if you lived together?”

You quickly shake the thought away, scolding yourself. You and Joshua have only been…whatever this is for a little over four months. The idea of living together is simply ridiculous.

It’s when four months roll into six, then eight, and nearly nine that you accept that your thoughts now belong to Joshua Hong and Joshua Hong only. When you start seeing him in the sunshine and away from the bright night lights, you feel the shift in your heart finalizing. In simple flared-bottom jeans and fitting shirts, Joshua is just as stunning and alluring as he is in his finest suits and quaffed hair. He can still make you laugh the same and you have the same meaningful conversations and he can still fuck you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your whole life. He’s the same slick guy that dances with you whenever you’re both feeling good and after nearly a year of knowing him, you finally accept that you’re in love with him.

The decision to tell him is one you have to make on your own.

“When are you going to stop messing around with the washing machine salesman?”

“Yeah, you need someone who will put you on the map! What about Hyungwon Chae? He’s been in a few flicks and he’s sooo handsome!”

“Yeah! Oh, or Jungkook Jeon?! His latest album is rumored to be wildly successful and I’ve heard it’ll be just as groovy as his last!”

The conversations with your friends around Joshua are always the same. It doesn’t matter how much detail you go into about the latest sweet thing he’s done for you or the latest concert he took you to or how good he is in bed (you keep that to yourself now since they never appreciate it), it’s always the same criticism. He’s not famous, he’s not rich - he’s just some “normal” guy to them and they can’t seem to fathom why on Earth you’re still seeing him.

They don’t seem to get that he’s so much more than a frequent hookup to you. At least - you want him to be. You can’t tell how he feels or if he wants more, but how will you ever know if you don’t tell him?

Your heart hammers against your chest at the thought of telling him and having him turn you down. The worst he can do is say he wants to keep your time together the same: doing things that make it feel like you’re more than what you are. Even worse is that he can stop seeing you altogether. Even the whisper of that makes your head hurt and your stomach tangle in unfixable knots.

But then there’s that possibility that Joshua digs you as much as you dig him, if not more. That possibility is what burrows deep into your brain and gives you the confidence you need to tell him.

Confidence or delusion - either way, it’s a chance you’ll take.

As an actress, you have to remind yourself that life is full of risks. You wouldn’t have any of the flicks on your resume that you do if you didn’t go to those auditions, put yourself out there, and give it your all. That’s what you want to do with Joshua - it’s what you need to do. You don’t need so-called friends to tell you that.

You have to tell him. You have to know if he’s also too nervous to admit his feelings or if you’re being foolish and pining for nothing. He’s quite possibly the love of your life and you need to tell him.

You don’t see Joshua for two weeks after you realize how you feel about him. Between his extra shifts and a rush of auditions from your manager, life seems to keep you apart for much longer than you’d like.

It’s when you finally have a night to yourself, away from the hustle and bustle that you get the time you’ve been yearning for.

You’re stepping out of the tub when you hear your phone ringing, the shrill sound breaching your quiet evening.

“I’m coming!” You call out to no one, slipping on your fluffy robe and slippers before shuffling through the apartment and to the kitchen. You make it just in time, picking up the pink phone dangling from the wall.

“Hello?” The tone you take on is slightly annoyed, hoping the caller knows you’re unhappy with the interruption.

“Hey, beautiful. Hope I’m not interrupting your night.” The smooth sound of Joshua’s voice melts you on the spot, expertly deflating your growing irritation as easily as popping a balloon. You’re embarrassed to admit just how easily Joshua Hong can get you to abandon anything else that isn’t him.

“Hey, Shua. No, I’m just at home tonight. I just got out of the tub.”

“Oh yeah? No big fancy parties with your fancy friends?”

“Nope. It’s just me, all alone with no plans for the rest of the night.” Your fingers tangle in the phone cord, wrapping the springy wire around your hand.

“I see. That sounds pretty boring if you ask me,” he hums, quickly picking up what you’re putting down. “No one to talk to or spend time with.”

“Hmm yeah, you’re right. Just me, myself, and I, all alone here,” your true intentions behind those words dripping from your flirty tone like honey. Not even five minutes ago that sounded like a perfect evening, but you already know why he’s calling, and spending the night with Joshua sounds like a much better option.

“Such a shame for you to be home alone all night. Maybe you can get someone to keep you company?”

“I think I’ll have to. I just don’t know what to do with myself otherwise. Plus, I’m feeling awful lonely.”

“Well we wouldn’t want you to be lonely now would we?” Joshua is smirking into the phone, and you can so clearly envision his grin with mischief written all over his pretty face. He wants you to initiate tonight and he’ll go back and forth as long as you’ll let him. Typically you have no problem keeping up with his snark, but the sound of his voice alone has you craving him like some sex-crazed lunatic.

Which you suppose you are when it comes to Joshua.

“Baby,” you breathe out, deciding you’re yearning for him far too much to play this game tonight. “Please come over?” You make sure to add a sprinkling of a whine at the end of your request, punctuating the entirety of your words with a tiny moan.

Joshua hums into the phone, pretending to think even though you both already know his answer.

“And how could I say no to you, hmm?” Joshua shuffles on the other end, his voice lowering an octave, but volume loud and clear to you. “I’m done work in a few. Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be over to see you. Think you can wait up for me, darling?”

“Always, Shua,” the implication behind his words has you buzzing with excitement, your own voice lowering in a hushed tone even though you’re home alone.

“See you soon, beautiful.”

As soon as the phone hangs up you rush into action, shuffling back to your bathroom to completely dry off and moisturize your skin. With styled hair and a spritz of Joshua’s favorite perfume on you, you slip into your favorite silk nightie, the one that dusts your ankles with the slit in the side that goes up to the middle of your thigh. You don the matching robe and put on one of your favorite records, mixing two drinks after you do so.

Just as you’re about to sit down there’s a knock on your door. Your stomach does flips as you go to answer it. You hadn’t known when you wanted to tell Joshua that you want him as more than a friend he sleeps with every weekend, but this feels like the right time. Truth be told you don’t know when the right time even is, but the longer you wait the more it’ll gnaw at you and won’t leave you alone.

“Look at you,” Joshua wraps his arms around you as soon as you let him in, drawing you into his embrace. He places a kiss on your lips, lingering for a second before pulling away. You hate the way you want to chase his lips.

He follows you into the living room, sinking into the couch next to you and you hand him the drink you made.

“It’s just an old-fashioned, nothing fancy.”

“An old-fashioned is pretty fancy to me. You didn’t have to make me anything, darling.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

Your words earn you another kiss, this time on your cheek and you get a new round of tingles across your body.

Joshua tells you about his day as you sit and drink together and the whole thing feels so painfully domestic. And you want it to be, so badly. Not that you want to stop acting - it’s been your dream as long as you can remember so you would never abandon it, but you want Joshua to be a part of this now and a small piece of you worries that he won’t want to. Hollywood isn’t for everyone and he’s voiced time after time how he could never see himself in showbiz or the business in general. But that’s fine with you. The time you’ve spent with Joshua far surpasses anyone else in the business you’ve ever given your time to anyway.

“Y/n?”

“Huh?”

“I lost you for a moment there. I didn’t mean to bore you with my department store tales,” Joshua chuckles, sipping his drink.

“No, you could never bore me! I was just thinking is all.”

“About?”

“You,” your answer is automatic and it’s the truth.

“Oh yeah?” You nod in response as Joshua tilts his head at you, eyes sparkling as he looks you over. “C’mon. Let’s boogie.” He puts his glass down and grabs your hand instead, leading you to the middle of your living room.

Minnie Riperton serenades you as Joshua brings you closer, your bodies slotting together perfectly as you sway to the music. He hums along, his eyes closing as he dips you for show, both of you sharing a giggle as he brings you upright.

These are the moments that let you know that you’re in love with Joshua Hong. Everything he does, everything he says, it’s all with a tenderness and a care that you’ve never experienced, but it still makes you feel incredibly special.

The beginning chords of “Lovin' You” fill the room, as Joshua’s fingers dance across your waist.

“I love this song.” He begins humming along again, and this is the moment you’ve been waiting for, you think, sucking in a huge breath of air.

“And I love you,” the words fall from your mouth before you can think twice and you do your damndest to make yourself sound confident.

Joshua’s smile slips in an instant, his expression turning serious. “What?”

“I’m into you, Joshua. So much. I wanna be more than what we are.” He’s stopped swaying completely, neither of you moving. The only sound other than the song still playing is the sound of the blood rushing loudly through your ears.

“Y/n…”

Your heart is this close to shattering into a million pieces. “What, you don’t like me back?”

He must notice your forlorn expression, because he reaches for you again, gently touching your arm. “No, it’s not that I just…”

“What is it then? Huh?”

Joshua heaves out a sigh, eyes closing before fixing you with a steady gaze. “I just sell washing machines, Y/n. I don’t have some bright future like you. I’m not getting a star on the Walk of Fame. I’ll get promoted to a store manager at best. I’m not like you.”

You blink at him, taking in his words. “That’s what you’re worried about?! Joshua, I don’t fucking care! I wouldn’t care if you worked at a factory or were a carpenter. Hell, I wouldn’t care if you were unemployed - I like you for you. No, I love you. I love you for your heart and your sense of humor and how sweet you are to me and how you actually, genuinely care about me and my interests and my dreams. I love you for every little thing about you, Joshua. Not for how much money you make or any of that.”

He’s silent, letting you pour your words out, your thoughts flowing from your mouth like a broken faucet. “Y/n…” he finally starts. The fear that he’ll turn you away just because he feels like he’s not enough grips you. Your ears tune into the song still playing and you do the first thing you can think of to get him to stop. You sing.

“Lovin' you I see your soul come shinin' through…”

He looks confused, almost unsure if you’ve truly begun to sing to him. “Y/n -”

“And every time that we oooooh. I'm more in love with you.”

“I’m-”

“La la la la la la la…do do do do do-“

Joshua closes the small gap between you two, his lips colliding with yours, putting a stop to your serenade before you can hit Minnie Riperton’s falsetto. You don’t object in the slightest, kissing him back with all your might.

“Did it work?” You mumble against his lips as you separate. “Did I get through to you? Are you staying?”

“I mean, you definitely made me lose track of what I was thinking of saying to you. I think I also know why you told me that one time that you’ve never considered being a singer.”

His teasing earns him a push against his chest, barely even moving under your force. “I pour my heart out to you in song and this is what I get?!”

He dodges the remainder of your playful hits and grasps your hands in his, his thumbs caressing your skin.

“Seriously, Y/n. I’m just a guy who works at Sears. Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you want me like that?” You can’t help but lift a hand and smooth out the crinkles on his forehead with your thumb, attempting to push the frown off of his perfect face.

“The only other time I’ve been this sure about something I wanted was when I knew I wanted to be an actress.” His eyes shine as you speak, searching for sincerity. “Do you want me like that?”

“God, yes, I do. I have for months.”

Relief washes over you, putting you at ease. “Then you can have me. In any and every way.”

Joshua doesn’t hesitate in the slightest. Soft lips meld into yours, your body molding against his as he holds you around the waist. His hands roam your body, his touch leaving searing warmth in its wake. He kisses you, sufficiently taking your breath away as he does. Your fingers card through his platinum locks, mussing the strands, but he pays it no mind as his lips trail from yours, down to your jaw and your neck. Joshua is nothing short of an expert when it comes to your body and the places you like to be touched and kissed.

When he reaches the most sensitive spot on your neck, the spot that makes your toes curl, he sucks, sinking his teeth into the soft skin. A sharp cry slips out of your mouth as he nibbles on the skin, sucking hard enough that there’ll surely be a mark there in the morning.

His hands wrap around you, palming your ass through your nightie and bringing your body impossibly closer to him. His erection strains against his corduroy pants, hard and aching just for you. You heave a heavy sigh when he finally leaves the patch of skin he’s working at alone, only to move to another swatch of skin. Your knees almost give out and you have to grab onto his blazer to stay upright.

Joshua’s hands roam over the silk and he continues to spend extra time on your most sensitive of areas before he decides he’s satisfied with the marks he’s decorated you with. He moves to kiss you again and with each slide of his lips against yours feeling more frantic by the second, so does his grip until his fingers catch on the knot of your robe, tugging it gently.

“Can I…?” he questions into your mouth.

“You never have to ask.” His lips curl into a smile against yours as he makes quick work of removing your robe and tossing it aside. He gently bunches up the fabric of your nightgown and eases it up and over your head, letting the fabric fall to the floor.

Now with no barrier between his wandering hands and your bare skin, Joshua’s hands move across you with purpose, one hand cradling your lower back and pushing you into him again. The other beelines for one of your breasts, his large hand scooping one up to knead at. He kisses you with so much hunger you can feel the need rolling off of him in waves and his hands that paw at you serve to make you even wetter.

He bucks his hips shallowly against you and your need for him reaches an all-time high. When you pull away, Joshua looks forlorn at losing your warmth, but when you drop to your knees in front of him, letting the brown shag underneath you dig into your skin, his expression morphs into one of excitement.

Hands work at his belt buckle, undoing it, then his pants, and you help him step out of the fabric along with his underwear. His cock, in all of its thick, throbbing glory feels as heavy as always in your hands when you pump him a few times, watching the precum bead at his tip. Wrapping your lips around the bulbous head, you suckle at it a few times, loving the way that Joshua starts breathing heavily above you, one of his hands coming up to settle on the back of your head.

You ease his length into your mouth bit by bit, enjoying the way the thickness stretches your lips and your throat as you take him in. You clench around nothing, already anticipating that same stretch in your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, just like that, darling,” Joshua grunts when you finally take him as far as you can fit him in your mouth, your hands wrapping around the rest of him. Your head bobs in tandem with your hands as you stroke him, letting him hit the back of your throat.

Both of Joshua’s hands are on your head now, his fingers getting caught in your hair as he tugs a few times. You’ve had his dick down your throat enough times to know what he wants, so you go slack, letting him fuck your mouth, gagging each time he pushes your head to meet his thrusts.

Your eyes slip closed, letting him use your mouth to the pace he wants. Your core throbs almost painfully as you suck him off and you have to rub your thighs together to feel any semblance of relief, although it’s nowhere near enough.

Joshua stills his hips then, keeping his length buried in your throat, your nose touching his pubic bone as you slowly breathe out of it. You swallow around him a few times, Joshua letting out a long, rumbling groan from his chest before pulling you back, his cock leisurely sitting against your lips, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

“Keep sucking me off like that and I’ll have to paint your pretty face.”

You suck him in one more time then pull off of him completely with a pop, tongue dipping into his slit just to tease him. “Do it. Want you to cover me in your cum.”

Joshua hisses, the grip on your hair tightening as he pulls you off of his length once and for all. “Fuck, you’re so nasty. Sit on the couch, baby.”

Ignoring the soreness in your knees, you crawl to the couch and perch on the edge, awaiting Joshua’s next instructions. Joshua unbuttons his shirt, your eyes greedily drinking in every inch of his toned, honeyed skin as he does so. Once he’s fully naked in front of you like he has been so many times before, you lick your lips, wanting nothing more than to cover him in marks of your own.

That will have to wait as it’s Joshua’s turn to drop to his knees and make his way over to you, settling in between your already open legs. His hands, always so big and warm and strong, grip your thighs, spreading them even further, so agonizingly slow.

“Mmm, there she is - drooling for me already. Crying to be filled up.”

“Josh- shua, please!”

“Please? Please what, sweetheart?” Joshua drags his finger through your sticky folds, watching your arousal coat his fingers.

“Please finger me or fuck me - anything!”

The smirk that tells you he plans to tease you plays on his lips, the corners quirking up in the most aggravating, charming way.

“Anything?”

“Please!”

His palm meets your core with force, smacking your pussy and sending a jolt through your whole body. Back arching in the air you let out a tiny scream, and more follow as he does it a second, third, fourth time.

“Joshua, baby, fuck, please!”

“Hmm? Thought you wanted anything I give you? Slapping your greedy pussy isn’t enough?”

Shaking your head vigorously, you beg him for something more. “Wanna be stuffed, please, Shua!”

His eyes darken at your words and he takes a mercy on you, landing two more smacks against your mound before he dips a finger into your core, a sigh of solace leaving you. He watches your mouth hang open as he works his finger in and out at a torturous pace.

“Always so warm and wet for me.”

“Always,” you assure him. You’ll always be ready for him in any way that he wants you.

Joshua slips a second finger in, stretching your walls more. You can write a whole dissertation about how good Joshua is with his hands and how much you love them, but his pace picks up, sufficiently wiping your brain of any of those eloquent words.

“Fuck!” You yelp as he keeps pumping his fingers into you and leans over to wrap his lips around your aching clit. He sucks at the bud, pistoning his digits and crooking them, his fingertips catching against your g-spot. “Shua!”

“God, I love it when you say my name. Say it again, baby.” To coax you, he flattens his tongue against your clit, putting pressure on it as his fingers move faster, and rougher, bringing you closer to your peak. If it’s up to Joshua, he’d have you cumming until you pass out, but you have to draw the line somewhere after the first night he wanted to see how many times he could get you to cum for him (his record is eight, and you haven’t had the fortitude to let him try and break it just yet).

“Joshua - Shua, gonna cum!”

“Go on then, do it, baby, cum for me.” He continues to suck on your clit, his teeth grazing the nub a few times and that’s all it takes to have you let go, yelling out Joshua’s name again as you do. He doesn’t give you time to catch your breath because his mouth then latches onto your pussy, tongue darting into your wet heat.

“T-too much!” Your whimpers are half-assed and he knows you don’t actually mean it which is why he keeps at it, slurping your juices and fucking you with his tongue. Joshua hums against you as he goes and it’s embarrassing how quickly you cum again, but your partner loves it, chuckling against you as he laps up your release and places a kiss on your puffy lips.

“You always taste so sweet, baby. Flip over for me?”

“‘Course,” you rasp, turning your already tired body over, Joshua helping with gentle hands on your hips. He stands up, stretching tall as he walks to his forgotten pants and gets out his wallet.

“Damn it,” he huffs, rifling through his wallet and checking the pockets a few more times.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to bring more condoms. You okay waiting for me to -”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. I need you now.”

“Y/n, we’ve never -”

“I know, but I haven’t been messing around with anyone else since we started seeing each other. Have you?”

“No, I haven’t. How could I when I have a whole you waiting for me here?” Even with your ass in the air and pussy glistening with his spit, it’s the way he says this - with so much care and admiration in his tone - that has you flustered.

Joshua joins you again, hands running down your back, goosebumps popping up on your flesh under his touch. He stops at your ass, squeezing and kneading your cheeks, spreading you open, the cool air of your apartment making you jump.

The chill is quickly replaced with the searing warmth that is Joshua as the tip of his dick nudges your entrance. He purses his lips, leaning over to spit on both his length and your hole before plunging into you. His girth stretches your walls deliciously, inch by inch of him entering you.

You let out an audible shudder as he goes, relaxing your body as best you can as he stuffs you.

“Look at you,” Joshua coos once he’s fully sheathed inside of you. “Taking my fat cock so well, darling.”

“Feels so g-good, Shua. So fucking good.”

“Yeah? I’ll make you feel even better, baby.” Joshua grips your waist and pulls his hips back, all the way until only his cockhead catches at your hole before snapping forward, shoving his dick back into you to the hilt. You can’t help but wail at Joshua’s thrusts, hips meeting you repeatedly as he drives into you over and over again.

Your record still plays in the background, the slaps of Joshua’s skin against yours mixing with the melody along with yours and Joshua’s moans. The drag of Joshua’s dick against your gummy walls has you shuddering underneath him. Without a condom, he feels so much hotter inside of you as every vein, every ridge, every pulse of his cock can be felt with each thrust.

“Shit, just like that, Shua!” Your neck cranes to look over your shoulder, attempting to gain some leverage against the couch cushions by leaning on your elbows. The sight of Joshua, skin flushed and shining with perspiration, eyebrows knitted in concentration with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth is enough to send you careening towards your end. You don’t get a chance to warn him before it hits you, the building pressure in the pit of your stomach releasing as you’re pushed to let go, burying your face in the cushions with tears pricking at your eyes.

“Fuck, look at you. Couldn’t even hold off from cumming again. You like my cock that much?”

“Yes!” you sob. “So much! So good…”

Joshua pulls out, you whimpering at the loss of him, but he doesn’t leave you empty for long. Joshua’s big hands help flip you over on your back, ass almost hanging off of the couch. He grasps your thighs, pushing your knees into your chest as he enters you again, burying himself in your messy heat. Joshua’s hips drill into you, balls slapping against your ass each time he surges forward.

Your record has stopped playing by now, the only song sounding through the walls of your apartment are your sobs of Joshua’s name and his grunts as he uses all of his strength. He keeps you pinned between his body and the couch, dick battering your sore cunt as both of you chase your ends.

“Shit, baby you’re so fucking beautiful. Taking my dick like a good girl.”

“Y-yeah. I’m your good girl!”

“Yeah, you are. Always so good. Letting me fuck you raw. Wantin’ me to fill up this filthy little pussy.”

Joshua swivels his hips, tip grazing against your spongey bundle of nerves. “Just like that!”

His hands keep your legs up and spread open as he does what you beg for, repeatedly pounding into your g-spot as your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open as any more sounds die on your tongue.

“Look at you. All fucked out and drunk for my dick. Gonna pump you full of my seed, maybe even fuck a baby into you. Would you like that?”

“Yes! Fuck me, Shua!”

“Fuck yeah, I will. Gonna flood this cunt with my cum and get your belly nice and round. Gonna make you mine forever.”

The Earth shatters around you and a tsunami of fire washes over you when you cum again, your back arching painfully as you scream out for him. Your pussy clenches around him, squeezing his cock like a vice which triggers Joshua’s orgasm.

“Shit - fuck, Iloveyousomuch!” The words tumble from Joshua’s lips as he cums, painting your insides sticky and white. He milks himself as he keeps his pace, his seed spilling out around his cock, leaking out and dribbling down your ass. Feeling him stay true to his word and pump himself dry into you draws a final, much smaller, weaker orgasm out of you as tears fall from your eyes both at the oversensitivity and hearing Joshua say to you what you’ve hoped he would for nearly a year.

Neither of you move, panting like crazy as the sweat on your bodies starts to dry along with the cum still slowly trickling out of you. When Joshua finally eases out his softening length, it’s with a groan on both your parts. Your sore legs lower, limply hanging off of the couch. The sensation of the rest of his cum seeping out of your abused hole and down your legs makes you sigh, your hips wiggling in response.

“Look at you, baby. You’re a mess.” He’s still a little out of breath but still manages to tease you.

“And whose fault is that?” He simply chuckles at you and you watch him through bleary eyes, heave himself off of the couch, and go into your kitchen.

He’s back in no time, two glasses of water in his hand. He offers you his bicep which you take, using him for leverage to sit up. You eagerly accept the water, downing the glass in less than thirty seconds, dry throat more than grateful.

Joshua’s next to you on the couch, watching you as he hydrates as well. The two of you sit in silence, emptying your cups and catching your breaths. For a moment, you worry that his confession was only in a bout of pleasure, but as if reading your mind he speaks.

“I meant it, you know. I love you.”

That’s all you need to hear to have you practically launching yourself in his lap, your lips crashing into his for a long, but sweet kiss. Joshua cradles your face, kissing you back just as hard, both of you eventually giggling into each other’s mouths.

When you need to breathe again, you pull away just enough to rest your forehead against his. Joshua’s brown eyes shine as they meet yours, your stomach flipping as you’re reminded for what feels like the 500th time just how handsome he is.

“I know you already took a bath, but I think we need to get you in the tub again,” he comments, gaze flickering down to the cooling streaks of his cum on your legs. And how he’s all yours.

“Only if you join me this time.”

“Only if you make time to let me take you on a proper date tomorrow night. We’ve spent a ton of time together, but I need to court you for real now.”

“As if I’d say no to you. I’m in love with you after all.” A brilliant, blinding smile takes over Joshua’s face and your heart leaps. No matter how much time you spend with Joshua, you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of laughing with him or smiling with him. And especially not dancing with him. You’ll never tire of that.

Net tag: @kflixnet

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ramp-it-up · 1 year

Text

All These Things and More

Paring: Ransom Drysdale x Reader (Minx)

Part of the Minx Series

Word Count: 2.8 K

Summary: Ransom is a dad now, but you’re neglecting Daddy

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, RPF. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Cute little baby vibes, Ransom as a soft dad, Minx as a good mom, a little bit of angst, going overboard for the holidays, pining. Lactation kink, breast play, oral sex (m receiving), degradation kink, allusion to fingering, female receiving oral, creampie, edging, overstimulation, and anal.

A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask. This is a companion piece to Coercion and Marshmallow World.

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Ransom rolled over into a pile of pink cuteness.

You were dead asleep in your custom pink chiffon nursing nightgown, and his daughter, dressed in a flowery pink footed sleeper, had wiggled out of your arms and was sitting up, staring at him with the biggest, prettiest eyes he’d ever seen.

Ransom frowned when he realized that you must have gotten up to get her from the nursery in the middle of the night instead of waking him. He’d told you about getting your rest. But Golden was going through a growth spurt and had taken to waking up in the middle of the night after a few months of sleeping through.

Ransom’s frown melted as his daughter smiled and laughed at him, waving cutely. Another woman had his heart now and her puff of blonde curly hair and light brown skin made her the most beautiful baby in the world, he thought.

Especially since he thought she looked just like you.

“Hey Goldennnn.”

He reached out for her and drew her onto his chest.

“How’s Daddy’s little girl this mornin’?’”

Ransom whispered his Boston drawl to his daughter, careful not to wake you up. It was only 5:30 AM.

“Bbbbbbbbbbbbb… DaDaDaDaDa.”

Even though she was blowing bubbles and climbing on his face, Ransom’s heart beat out of his chest at his daughter’s address.

“That’s right. Dada!”

Ransom whispered excitedly. He smiled at her and decided she needed some new diamond earrings, the ones in her ears were too small. As he lifted her, he also decided that she needed to be changed.

Ransom looked over to you to make sure you were still sleeping, then, he eased out of the bed and managed to get her down the hall to her nursery to change her diaper and sit down in the rocker after warming a bottle of breastmilk that you kept in the mini fridge in her room.

Ransom was the only one who could get her to take a bottle, otherwise, you breastfed her exclusively, with a few baby foods, even at 8 months old.

Golden got sleepy right away after taking most of the warm bottle, and Ransom cleaned her lips with the burp cloth and gazed at her sleeping face for a while, before putting her on his chest and daydreaming of your wedding the previous year.

You got the big June wedding of your dreams, despite Ransom wanting to elope. And it was outside, which really sucked because his fucking allergies made Ransom tear up just as you were walking down the aisle.

Your insipid little friends were always talking about how star studded the wedding was, but all Ransom remembered was you in your stunning dress and the adventure of making love to his wife that night.

You had him sex starved after depriving him for a month, and let’s just say that he’d had to pay off some of the hotel staff. You probably got pregnant that night, as much cum as there was everywhere.

Ransom was awakened by a flash going off because you were snapping pictures.

“Sorry Ran.”

You whispered and grinned at your man. He was such a good father. And you knew he loved you, he even told you so when he felt especially secure. Usually after you let him do everything that he (and you) wanted in bed.

Ransom rubbed his eyes and stood up to gently put Golden in her crib. He watched her for a minute and then walked over to you.

“I told you about that, Minx.”

“But you look so cute when you’re being Golden’s dad. Makes me want you more, Daddy.”

You pouted up at him and his heart melted. He loved him some you, especially since you’d become his wife and mother to his child. But he tried to look tough, which only seemed to make you light up more.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Minx.”

Ransom bent down and hauled you up over his shoulder, giving your ass a slap as you giggled your way down the hall.

“I swear, If you wake her up….”

He deposited you on the bed as you let down the straps of your nightgown.

“I appreciate you feeding her, but what am I gonna do with all this milk now? I’m so uncomfortable. Need some relief Ran, baby…”

You looked up at him with those huge doe eyes and those huge, full tits, and his dick got hard.

Ransom always loved your tits, but they were huge with weight right now and pointing right at him.

He was super excited to help out, but he rolled his eyes to feign disinterest.

“Shit. I have to do everything around here. Have to be the Nanny, have to be the breast pump.”

You started to cover up, knowing this game too well.

“Sorry, Ran.”

Ransom saw your pout, sighed and climbed into bed with you, reaching for you and pulling you near.

“Come over here, Minx.”

The look on Ransom’s face betrayed his need as he reached for you. You smiled at him, ready to enjoy a morning in his arms. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he started to relieve you with those lips of his, and his hands, oh his hands, they relieved you in other ways.

After Ransom put you to sleep and had a quick shower, Golden woke up and Ransom hurried into her room.

A father’s work was never done.

That was the week before Thanksgiving, over a month ago, and it was the last time he felt you had time for him. Your first Christmas together as a married couple, you were six months pregnant, and the Holidays were spent with Ransom cussing out his family and friends who accused you of trying to trap him with a baby.

“Fucking idiot, can you fucking count?” Was his favorite refrain.

Ransom didn’t tell them that you didn’t trap them with this baby, you’d blackmailed him into a relationship using a recording of him blackmailing you with revenge porn months before the wedding.

You two also spent the Holidays eating and lazily fucking every night, morning, and any other time you got your greedy little hands on his dick. He was in heaven, the center of your little newlywed world.

This holiday season had been both the best, and the worst, for Ransom. It was going to be Golden’s first Christmas, and, as a true Thrombey woman (you included) she was fascinated with shiny things.

His little girl had his eyes and your smile and brown skin, causing everyone to stop and stare who saw her. An added bonus was that when she was born, his parents stopped being such assholes, because Golden had everyone wrapped around her teeny tiny little finger.

This Christmas, you were a woman possessed. Well, more than usual.

The second Thanksgiving was over, because Ransom would not permit it before then, you went into full Golden’s First Christmas mode.

Friday morning, Ransom rolled over and both you and Golden were gone. The bed was empty, and cold.

Nanny number one, Lina, had Golden and was bottle feeding her in her room. Ransom was livid.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Ransom made the poor woman jump, but she managed a smile anyway.

“Oh, Mr. Hugh. Mrs. Drysdale said that you would be thrilled that someone else could feed the baby. Surprise.”

Ransom was boiling mad on the inside.

“It’s Ransom. Mr. Drysdale to you, Lina,” Ransom spat as he watched his baby girl giggle in Lina’s arms.

She pulled off the bottle to say, “Dadadadada,” as if admonishing him. He leaned over, rubbed her hair and kissed her forehead, noting her sleepy eyes.

“Make sure that you burp her before you put her down.”

Ransom put on his robe and slippers over his silk pajamas and padded downstairs, expecting to find you there. What he did find was the chef, Angie, in the kitchen and a note from you.

You had gone shopping with Linda, of all people. Ransom was left alone. So he moped around the house in between playing with Golden all day until you got home, loaded down with tons of Christmas decorations.

He was surly at the dinner table while you rattled off your holiday plans, but you didn’t notice, or didn’t care, and by the time Ransom was ready for you to make it up to him, he found you and Golden knocked out in the bed.

It was this way for a month. Shopping, deliveries and installation of lights, trees, decorations, parties and playdates, everything that you thought Golden would love. But no nookie for Daddy. And you even had the nerve to begin to wean Golden, which meant your milk supply was getting low.

Ransom was someone even the Grinch would think would need to lighten up.

And the presents.

The entire first level was filled with presents for Golden. Ransom bought out FAO Schwarz for her. And the diamond district in New York was well compensated for dealing with Ransom on his search for the most flawless matching Mommy/Daughter diamonds.

But for some inexplicable reason, he missed you.

You were with him every night, next to him in bed, but he didn’t have your attention. It was bad enough that you spent so much time on the baby, but that was only right. You were his soul mate. Even though he’d loved you madly, when you became mother to his child, it seems he loved you more.

But now, you were obsessed with being Mrs. Claus, not Mrs. Drysdale. And that pissed Ransom off. Big time.

Ransom was still a grumpy bug when the families gathered on Christmas Eve for dinner and stayed over on Christmas morning to watch Golden “open” her presents.

He wasn’t telling people to eat shit, but you knew he was unsettled. But you didn’t know that he had a plan.

On Christmas night, after Golden was in bed, Ransom switched off the Christmas carols that had been piped throughout the house.

You went up to him, full of mirth and quipped, “My house, my rules, the Christmas music stays on.”

Ransom rolled his eyes and didn’t laugh, clearly done with being in the Christmas spirit.

“What’s wrong, Ran?”

“Nothing. Just got to get away from this nonsense. I’m leaving.”

Panic filled you. You thought he finally had enough.

“But Ransom, why? Will you leave me and Golden?”

“Oh shut up Minx, I’d never leave Golden. And you’re coming with me. Pack a bag.”

You were filled with relief, but you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t push back.

“Where are we going, Ransom? I can’t just…”

“You can, and you will. Golden had a great Christmas. She hardly knew what was going on, but she loved it. Now it’s my turn.”

You loved it when Ransom pouted and was needy, but you tried to reason with him.

“How long will we be gone Ran….?”

“Am I your husband?”

Ransom yelled at you. For the first time since Golden was born.

You were shook; Ransom was really emotional.

“Of course, but…”

“But nothing. Your mother is here, she’d be thrilled to fight Linda for the privilege to watch Golden. And you’ve almost weaned her. It’s perfect. You need to spend some time attending to your wifely duties. Which means you pay attention to me.”

Ransom wasn’t yelling anymore, but he was still adamant.

You fought the urge to laugh at Ransom because he had a point. You’d virtually ignored him. You decided to go with the flow.

“Well, what do I need to pack? Is it cold wherever we’re going?”

“I’m sure it is. Just pack enough for a day or two. We’ll go shopping when we get there, that is if you’re not too much of a cockslut and can have me not filling all your holes for a couple of hours…”

You shivered at the delicious promise. And you were ready to go right now. You reached for his pants. Ransom pushed you away.

“Save it, we’ve got to leave in an hour. Be ready.”

Ransom walked into his closet and left you reeling.

You met Ransom in the car in 56 minutes, only packing three Hermes bags to take along. You were shifting in your seat, wet already, wondering what adventures awaited you ahead.

Ransom spared you a cursory glance, but was silent most of the way.

“Stop squirming, it’s annoying,” was the only thing he said to you.

But you looked down and noticed that he was tapping his finger on his thigh. And that his pants were very tight around his crotch area. It was then that you realized that you missed him as much as he missed you.

“Sorry Ran, It’s just that I don’t have any panties on, and this sweater dress feels kinda good…”

You crossed and uncrossed your legs, capturing Ransom’s eyes which went from the supple leather of your brown boots, up the hem of your dress that matched the sweater that he had on. You could see him gulp and lick his lips. He shifted and then replied.

“I don’t give a fuck, calm your ass down and stop moving.”

“Yes, Ran.”

The look that you gave him, coupled with the faux show of submission had him almost feral. He leaned forward and banged on the partition.

“Speed it up, asshole!”

You smirked in your seat as Ransom tried to spur the driver on.

“You seem tense, Ran. Anything I can do to help.”

You put your hand on his knee.

“You should do something, since you got me all wound up. Didn’t want to jack off and spill my seed down the shower. Since we got married, you said it would only be used to fill you up.”

You rubbed his thigh.

“I’m sorry, Ransom. Can.. can you let me swallow it down my throat?”

Ransom didn’t respond, although you were squeezing his dick through his pants. You took that as a yes and got down between his legs, unzipping him and bring out his large dick.

Ransom looked down on you and placed one hand on your head and the other found your nipple through the dress. You weren’t wearing a bra either.

You spit on his dick and started pumping him, licking your lips as he stared you down.

“No underwear at all. Just live to get fucked. You’re my little whore, aren’t you? You still love to be a freak. Suck my dick, Minx. Not too sloppy now.”

Ransom leaned back and thrust his bobbing and weaving dick up at you as your pussy wept and your mouth watered.

“Yes, Daddy.”

You nodded and opened your mouth, deep throating him, red lipstick leaving marks on his throbbing member as you slowly pulled off.

“Fuck, Minx.”

You bobbed on his cock, choking and coughing and spluttering, while managing to keep everything neat and playing with his balls.

“So, so, so, good with that hot little slut mouth, Minx. Fuck! Take it all.”

You loudly gulped as he came, causing him to pulse extra spend down your throat.

“Thank you for the fluff, Daddy.”

Ransom just grunted and zipped up as the car pulled down the road to the airstrip where the Thrombey Gulfstream was parked.

You turned to him with glee, clapping your hands.

“A flight? Where are we going?”

“Paris. Now get your ass on that plane.”

“Yay! Thank you Daddy.”

You kissed his cheek and got out of the car when the driver opened the door, ready to fly, while Ransom watched you with a warm feeling and rubbing his cheek. Damn, he was whipped.

After you boarded the plan, and toasted with champagne, Ransom told you of the plan to stay in that one hotel you loved from your honeymoon. The one with the view of the Eiffel Tower and the excellent room service.

“That’s great Ran. Because you’re right, you’re not gonna want to leave this pussy alone.”

Ransom’s eyes changed as you go up to enter the private bedroom on the plane. When he joined you in the room that was filled with a king sized bed, he found you sitting on the edge of the bed, leaned back, legs open.

Ransom pushed a few buttons on the keypad by the door to the bedroom cabin, and up popped a view of you sitting on the bed, displayed on the television above the door. Your eyes watched the monitor as Ransom stood before you and pushed you back down on the bed.

Ransom took your boots off, then pushed the dress up your body with his huge, warm hands, skimming your thighs up to your breasts. He pulled the garment off of you, then grabbed your hair for a searing kiss while he roughly groped and pinched your nipple.

You moaned at the delicious pain and at his passion, trying to tear his clothes off faster than he could disrobe as he went back down your body.

“Gonna make you cum until you beg me to stop, and then I’m gonna fuck this weeping cunt, filling you to the brim with my cum, Minx. Then I’m gonna take that ass. And if we have time on this seven hour flight, we’ll do it all over again.”

“Yes, Ransom.”

You pulled his hair as you watched him eat you out in high definition on the monitor, then flicked your eyes over to the camera to make sure the red light was on.

“All these things and more…”

You know what I’m gonna say…reblog? Please!

Read the next part: You Up?

#ask dj #dj answers #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x black!reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale smut #chris evans #chris evans smut #ransom drysdale imagine #chris evans imagine #Ransom and Minx #dj’salliwant4kchristmas22

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annymation · 5 months

Text

Reimagining the characters in Wish

(Part 5- The Goat)

This will be the last one of these blogs about the characters. I was stalling on this one because honestly there’s really not much to Valentino in my rewrite.

Will his existence influence the plot tho? Yes, definitely way more than the movie Valentino did… Although that bar isn’t high.

So let’s go, animal companion time!

Personality

- Valentino is a one month old baby goat, a little ball of energy, too pure for this world, doesn’t know basic math and we must protect him at all cost.

- His main gimmick is that he follows Asha EVERYWHERE to the point it’s comical, like, I didn’t write him much so far in my rewrite (we’re currently on chapter 3 and he was alive in only 2 of them, so no wonder) but even when I don’t mention him just assume, he’s there… All the time.

- He cares a lot about Asha and sees her as his mother, since well, she technically is, she took care of him all his life (a month).

Main Traits:

- Curious

- Loyal

- Silly

- Innocent

- Determined

Backstory

(Because it wouldn’t be a rewrite of mine if the character didn’t have at least some angst, not even the 1 month old goat is safe from me)

- A month before our story begins, Asha was drawing animals at one of the farms in the kingdom, to practice, when suddenly she heard a new born goat all alone.

- She asked the owners where his parents were at, and they explain they didn’t notice the little guy under the hay earlier, they sold their goats to be exported to a neighboring kingdom.

- Asha felt really sad for him, so she asked to buy him, the farmer said she could keep him for free, taking care of baby goats without a mama goat around was too much trouble anyway, Asha was basically doing them a favor.

- Valentino obviously doesn’t know all that, but even if you told him it’s not like he’d care, he sees Asha as his mama and that’s all that matters.

- He’s very thankful for her taking care of him, getting him a nice sweater and a cozy little bed… He wishes he could thank her.

Which leads us to:

This Book

- So hear me out, there’s this kids book, “The Grateful Goat”, about Valentino, and it’s adorable, it’s my main inspiration for his rewrite.

- In this book we follow Valentino trying to communicate something to Asha and her friends, but they can’t understand him, since we’ll, he’s a goat.

- They try over and over to guess what he wants but nothing makes him stop bleating.

- Then, once Star came down and granted his wish, it turns out all he wanted to say was “Thank you”

That

That’s cute, I like that.

- Imagine this, in my rewrite, once Aster does grant Valentino’s wish and makes him talk, it’s a cute scene of Valentino going like:

“THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS TAKING SUCH GOOD CARE OF ME!”

(And he sounds like a child by the way, because that’s how a baby goat should sound like DISNEY)

- Now, am I saying that Valentino is just gonna speak once to say thank you?… Kinda, but not quite.

- You see, Aster’s wish granting magic is only effective on you if you really really REAAALLY want it to be.

- As he makes animals in the forest talk for example, or brings the tress to life, they only remain like that as long as they really want to, and what do you know, turns out most trees are chill just being tress so his magic fades away from them in a short while.

- Valentino’s wish won’t be to permanently talk, he just wanted to thank Asha, so once he’s done doing that Aster’s magic fades away after a few hours.

-… However, some of Aster’s magic remains deep inside of Valentino, so if for whatever reason Valentino reeeeeally wants to communicate something… Something urgent perhaps… Then he regains the ability to speak.

- Oh yes I CREATED TALKING GOAT ON DEMAND! HE ONLY SPEAKS WHEN ITS RELEVANT TO THE PLOT BABEEEEY!!!

- Not gonna lie, I’m really happy with this, because that just means I won’t have to come up with lines for him all the time, he’ll only speak when necessary.

Design

- So. Many. Cute. Designs… AND WE GOT THE WORST ONE GAAAAH DISNEY WHEN I CATCH YOU-

- It’s fine, I’m fine *breathes* we can fix him.

- First of all, he has horns, because believe it or not 1 month old goats already start showing their horns.

- Second, I debated a lot on this but we’re keeping the little sweater, yeah I’m surprised too, I hated it at first (still do hate it in the way that it is in the movie) but then I was informed it’s a reference to how Walt Disney used to put clothes on the animals of his family’s farm when he was a kid, and that’s the type of deep cut and cute reference I wish we had gotten more of.

- But the sweater won’t be so tight on him, like, let it be a little bit more loose, and maybe don’t cover his lower half.

- This concept art I used for the second chapter of my rewrite kinda illustrates it perfectly how I’d like him to be:

- The fluffy tuff of hair, the big eyes, the long ears, the lil horns, it’s perfect, that’s it, that’s our boy. Tho I don’t imagine him being all white, lets say he has some brown spots.

Final Thoughts

This post actually made me really mad because I wrote it all once and it was perfect, but I forgot to save it before closing tumblr, so I lost it all, ughhh why don’t they have auto save on cellphones??

I have plenty of ideas on how to make him more plot relevant than he was in the Disney movie, he won’t be like THE MOST ESSENTIAL CHARACTER OF ALL, definitely not, but little things that he does move the story forward.

If my calculations are correct he’ll most likely be useful on chapter 4 of my rewrite (or chapter 5, cause like, I’m trying to make them a bit shorter)

Not gonna tell how he’s gonna be useful in the story tho cause I think it’s better as a surprise.

A bit of a quick tangent here, but have you guys ever noticed how some Disney animal companions are the opposite of their human friends?

Ariel is brave and curious - Flounder is a coward

Pocahontas is wise and calm - Meeko is a dummy and Flit has anger issues

Alladin is generous - Abu is a kleptomaniac

You get the idea.

We didn’t get that at all in the Wish movie.

I was trying to come up with ideas on how to make Valentino have an opposite trait compared to Asha, but I don’t really know how to incorporate that into the story, oh well, I might just figure out as I go.

Anyway, that’s our goat, hope you like him!

Thank You For Reading!

#disney wish #wish #wish 2023 #wish star #wish asha #wish disney #wish movie #wish rewrite #wish reimagined #wish valentino

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kwanisms · 1 year

Text

Kinkuary 06 Jongho — dry humping // corruption kink

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➥ bff!Jongho × bff!Reader summary: Y/N decides to take a break from studying when she learns her sweet and innocent best friend is still a virgin. wc: 2.9k warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, sexual content (minors dni!): virgin!Jongho, experienced reader, dry humping, Jongho is a whiny mess and his hands are everywhere, Jongho is very vocal, reader has a corruption kink, Jongho cums in his pants and reader cums in her pants, use of pet names (baby, good boy, etc), reader likes to praise Jongho and see him blush Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy @drunk-on-dk @violagoth @mixling-blog Ateez taglist: @2hodefender @babyhailey819 @foxylilbitch @rdiamond2727 @indigo35 @sanjoongie MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. Join the taglist!

a/n: SORRY. IM AN IDIOT AND DIDNT POST THIS CORRECTLY. IM SO SORRY. Thank you to sky for telling me so i could fix it. My bad. this was so much fun to write and I'm tempted to turn this into a mini series where the reader further corrupts her best friend turned boytoy turned boyfriend at the end of it all. Let me know what you all think about that. If there's a good response to this part, I'll do it. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

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When the words left your best friend, you had to do a double take.

“You?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him over your textbook. Jongho looked up to meet your gaze, his cheeks reddening softly. “Don’t look at me like that,” he half whined, half hissed.

There were several shushes around you. After all, it was a library.

What was supposed to be a study session to prepare for your finals turned into a conversation with your best friend of 20 years about why you didn’t get any sleep the previous night.

“I refuse to believe my best friend is a virgin,” you hissed back, causing Jongho to look up at you with wide eyes, jaw dropped. “Shut the fuck up!” He hissed, earning several more shushes.

You dropped your eyes to your textbook momentarily before glancing up quickly at Jongho who was now flipping through his notes.

You pulled out your phone and sent a text his way.

You: but really??? You’re a virgin?

You heard his phone vibrate in his pocket and glanced up as he pulled it out and glanced at the screen before looking up at you as you looked back down at your book.

Your phone screen lit up with a reply.

Baby Bear🧸: there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin!

Your fingers tapped across the screen quickly.

You: I never said there was. I’m just shocked you haven’t had sex yet Baby Bear🧸: why? You know how I am. I can barely talk to girls, let alone have sex with them. I’m not like you

‘I’m not like you.’ What was he trying to say? Was he… slut shaming you??

You: and what’s that supposed to mean? 🤨 Baby Bear🧸: you’re so… outgoing You: is that your code for slut?

You looked up upon hearing Jongho choke on his own air.

Baby Bear🧸: no! God no. I would never call you that. You’re just so much more confident. Sexually I mean. And you’re comfortable around practically anyone. Baby Bear🧸: i could never. I don’t trust anyone like that. Baby Bear🧸: well, except maybe you

Your eyes glanced up as Jongho continued to tap away on his screen, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

Baby Bear🧸: i trust you more than anyone tbh You: then let me do it Baby Bear🧸: do what? You: let me be your first.

The sound that came out of Jongho upon receiving your text sounded like a cross between a gasp and a sputtering engine. He started coughing, covering his mouth with his fist as he looked up at you, meeting your gaze.

Trying to control his coughing, Jongho quickly gathered his things, with you one step behind as he exited the library. He was fast but not too fast that you couldn’t catch up to him.

You grabbed him by the arm. “Jongie,” you said, pulling him to a halt.

“Why would you say that?!” He hissed, looking around to make sure no one was around.

“Say what?” You asked, confusion masking your face.

“‘Let me be your first,’” Jongho hissed, his face screwing up in either embarrassment or disgust. You weren’t sure which it was.

“If the idea disgusts you that much,” you said softly, pulling the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder. “Forget I said anything.”

You turned to walk away but Jongho’s grip on your arm stopped you. “It’s not that I think it’s disgusting,” he said softly. “It’s just… you’re my best friend, Y/N. It’s weird, isn’t it?”

You turned to face him. “It’s really not. Friends do this kind of stuff all the time, Jong,” you replied. “We don’t have to if you really don’t want to.”

You turned to leave again. "It was just an idea. It's fine," you said, glancing over your shoulder at your best friend.

"No big deal."

No big deal was wrong.

The moment the suggestion left your mouth, it was all Jongho could think about for the rest of the day.

It wasn't that the thought of having sex with you was weird or gross or anything of the like. Jongho was actually intimidated by the idea.

You were much more open in your sexuality and your sexual prowess. He, on the other hand, was much less experienced. The furthest he'd ever gone was kissing and some light touches.

That's not to say he's completely pure. He's had his fantasies before and they may or may not have involved you in the past. He was a horny teenager at one point after all.

But while most of his classmates had given into their desires, Jongho found himself unable to do so. He was far too shy to approach any girl who wasn't you. Even when you set him up on group dates, which thankfully only happened twice, he just couldn't seem to get his words out or say the right things.

But with you? He could talk to you for hours. He felt comfortable around you. He trusted you and he cared about you and he knew you cared about him too.

Which is why he fished his phone out of his pocket mid lecture to send you a text, hoping this little plan of his might work.

Baby Bear🧸: we didn't finish studying You: did you want to meet back at the library after classes? Baby Bear🧸: nah. Just come over to my dorm. My roommate is out so we won't have any distractions You: okay. See you after class!

╶╴╶╴╶╴╶╴╶╴╶╴╶╴╶╴╶╴╶╴╶╴╶╴╶╴╶╴

You tried to focus on your worksheet but the way Jongho was glaring at you was making you lose focus.

"Stop glaring at me," you said with a heavy sigh.

"I'm not glaring."

When Jongho had texted you, asking you to come over to finish studying, you couldn't contain your excitement. Maybe it was because you were secretly hoping your best friend was inviting you over with ulterior motives or maybe it was because you'd had a crush on the guy since the end of middle school.

Jongho didn't seem to notice how things changed around him in the transition from middle to high school. By the end of middle school, while he focused more on his studies, you saw how girls started to act around him. They were noticing him more as he grew out of his awkward childhood and started maturing.

And of course, you noticed, too.

By the time you were in your final year of high school, your tiny crush had turned into full blown infatuation yet Jongho seemed none the wiser. He never seemed to notice your subtle attempts at flirting. Perhaps he was as clueless as he claimed to be.

"You are too and it's distracting," you answered, setting down your pencil and beginning to stretch.

Since Jongho had invited you over to his dorm to continue your study session after the library one had ended so abruptly, you were currently sitting at his desk while he sat on his bed.

His eyed followed your movements, watching the way your shirt lifted ever so slightly when you stretched your arms above your head, exposing a small flash of skin that had him imagining things, heat rising to his cheeks.

Jongho cleared his throat and returned his eyes to his workbook but couldn't focus. Not when you continued to stretch.

He watched as you stood up and twisted your body, stretching your back before bending over to touch the floor. Had he not been fantasizing about you all day, he might have ignored the way your ass was on display as you stretched, bent over.

Had he been a little more focused, he would have noticed the way you glanced back at him, a devilish little smirk spreading across your lips.

You stood upright slowly before turning around and crossing to his bed. Jongho watched as you plopped down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and letting out a sigh.

Jongho, who pretended to not have been staring at you ass moments ago gave you a quizzical look.

"I'm bored," you whined, making him scoff.

"Studying isn't supposed to be fun," he replied, scribbling away in his workbook.

You looked up at him, admiring the way the soft lighting from his lamp casted a golden glow over his tanned skin, his dark brown eyes moving slightly as he read the text on the papers before him, the way his lips moved subtly as he mouthed the words his eyes were reading, looking more kissable now than ever.

Jongho wasn't a fool, he knew you were now staring at him, probably expecting him to entertain you somehow.

His eyes widened as you sat up, grabbing his workbook and tossing it aside.

"Yah! I was reading something!" He pouted as you took his pencil and tossed that, too.

"Then let's do something fun," you said, eyes shining with excitement. Jongho rolled his eyes. "We're supposed to be studying, Y/N," he reminded you. "That's why I invited you over," he added.

"Then let's take a short break," you suggested.

Jongho glanced at his poor workbook, laying in a heap on the floor, his pencil abandoned near it.

"I guess a break couldn't hurt," he mumbled, wondering what you had in mind.

Your smile widened and in a flash, you had moved, straddling his lap as he tried not to fall backwards onto the bed.

"W-what are you-?!" Jongho started to protest, his cheeks turning red at your sudden boldness.

"Shh," you said softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I saw you earlier," you added quietly, fingers grazing his scalp as you combed through his dark brown hair.

"S-saw what?" Jongho stammered, looking up at you with wide eyes.

"When I was stretching," you answered. You leaned in closer, your face inches from his. "I saw the way you were watching me. You aren't subtle, you know," you continued, your hot breath fanning over him, sending heat rushing to his head and not the one with the brain.

"Is that why you invited me over?" you asked, moving your head to whisper in his ear. "You can tell me, Jong. I won't judge."

Your words had a profound effect on your best friend, sending a shiver down his spine. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

"If you wanted to watch me stretch," you whispered, nuzzling his jaw, tugging lightly on his hair to expose more of his neck to you.

"All you had to do was ask."

Jongho let out a sigh as your lips met the skin of his neck, leaving light kisses as you moved down to where his neck met his shoulder, pushing the collar of his sweatshirt aside to tease the skin.

Your lips trailed back up, stopping briefly to graze your teeth against the spot just under his ear. Jongho let out a whine and you pulled back to gaze into his eyes. "You make such pretty sounds," you whispered, leaning in until your lips were inches from his.

"S-stop it," he muttered. You cocked an eyebrow.

"You want me to stop?" you asked, resisting the urge when he vigorously shook his head no. "Then what do you want me to stop?"

"Stop teasing me." His voice was so soft, almost helpless and you couldn't stop the smirk that appeared. "Are you sure that's what you want?" you asked, shifting on his lap and unintentionally grinding against him. "Hng, fuck," you heard him groan.

You pulled back to look down at him in shock.

"Did you just say 'fuck'?" You asked, looking impressed.

"Just shut up and kiss me already," Jongho snapped, looking flustered and like he was going to come undone any second.

You sighed out a "finally," before crashing your lips against his. Grabbing his hands, you placed them on your hips before tangling your fingers back in his hair.

The kiss was rushed, messy, but most importantly it was Jongho.

You'd wanted to kiss him for years and now you were finally getting that chance. There was no way you were gonna fuck this up.

Pulling back, your heart skipped a beat when Jongho tried to follow your lips, pouting when he couldn't. "What did you stop for?" he asked in a whiny voice. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," you said softly, fingers dragging through his hair.

Your best friend's eyes widened. "You've wanted to kiss…me?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Of course I have, you idiot," you laughed.

Jongho's brow furrowed. "So then why did you stop?" he asked again, almost as if he was challenging you.

You leaned back in, connecting your lips in a much slower, more intimate kiss, lips parting his slowly and your tongues meeting.

With your hands in his hair and his mouth preoccupied by yours, you tested the waters by rolling your hips, grinding against him slowly.

Jongho let out a moan, the sound muffled by your mouth. You felt his hands tighten around your waist, nails digging into the exposed skin under your cropped shirt.

"You've never done this, have you?" you asked after pulling away, resting your forehead against his. Jongho shook his head. "N-no," he mumbled. "N-never."

You continued to move, grinding against him, feeling him harden under your clothed heat. For once, you were grateful that women's clothing was so thin, allowing you to feel more.

"So innocent," you whispered, ducking your head to press wet kisses to his neck, trailing down the side, leaving little marks as you kissed, nipped and sucked at his skin.

"You're so good at this," Jongho whined, tilting his head to the side, silently begging for more.

He was fully hard under you now, hands gripping your ass as you grinded against his erection, earning desperate whimpers and moans from him.

"This is all so new for you, isn't it?" you asked, lips brushing against his ear. He nodded frantically, trying to guide your movements. You let out a soft chuckle, grinding harder against him.

"Are you gonna cum?" you whispered, enjoying the way he moaned under your touch. "Y-yes," he whined. "Gonna cum in your pants like a good boy?" Jongho let out a particularly low moan at that.

"You're getting so worked up and I've barely even touched you."

"Please," Jongho breathed, fingers digging into your skin, grabbing your ass tightly. "I need more."

You slowed your movements, pulling your hands from his hair to cup his face. "More? You need more?" you asked, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "I guess I could give you more.'

You placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned over, pushing him back, his back hitting the mattress. You started to move, continuing your motions from before, rolling your hips and grinding against him again. "Oh shit," Jongho breathed.

"Does it feel good?" you asked, watching his face as it contorted in pleasure. "S-so good," he answered, tongue peeking out to lick his lips. "I wanna feel more," he added. "Wanna feel you."

You smirked, moving faster, letting out your own moans. "You haven't even cum and you already wanna be inside me?"

"Yeah," Jongho answered, his hands moving to squeeze your thighs. "Wanna feel all of you. I need it," he added, his hips bucking up to meet yours. "I need you."

You moaned again. It was so tempting to remove your pants and take his cock inside you but you didn't want to push him too far.

"Mmm, next time, baby, okay?" you cooed. Jongho whined, wanting to feel his cock inside you now.

"Please?" he whimpered. "Please baby. I need you. I need you so fucking bad." The way he spoke breathlessly made you want to give in, push your shorts and panties aside and sink down on him.

Be a good boy and cum for me first," you replied, grinding harder and faster against him. "Cum for me and I'll fuck you later. Only good boys deserve to get their cocks wet.

Your words had the intended effect on him and his pleas for you to fuck him turned into desperate whines as his orgasm approached.

"'M gonna cum," he moaned, eyes fluttering shut. "That's it baby," you purred, coaxing him into it. "Cum in these tight jeans for me."

Your best friend let out a whine, hands moving to your hips and guiding you over his erection as he came in his underwear. Your hips continued, chasing your own orgasm and helping him ride his out. You didn't last much longer, coming undone on top of him.

You both stayed still, panting heavily as you each tried to come down from your respective highs. Jongho moved one hand up to the back of your neck and pulled you down into a heated kiss.

"How long have you wanted to do that?" he asked, referring to what you just did when he finally found his voice.

"When you told me you were a virgin," you admitted, pulling back enough to look into his eyes. "But I've wanted you longer than that."

"Why didn't you say something?" he whined. "I've only been flirting with you since we were like 16," you replied, smiling as he pulled you in for another kiss. "You know I'm an idiot," he answered, lips against yours still. You pressed several short kisses to his lips.

"Yeah but you're my idiot now," you said, sitting back up, hands resting on his chest. Jongho looked up at you through half closed eyes. "I am?" he asked. "Yours, I mean."

You nodded, leaning over to kiss him again. "You are now." You felt him smile against your mouth. "Then that means you're mine, too?" he asked softly, to which you nodded, sitting back up to give him a mischievous grin.

"Yes, and now that you're mine, I can't wait to show you what you've been missing."

#ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #jongho scenarios #jongho imagines #jongho fanfiction #jongho fanfic #jongho smut #jongho x reader #kwanisms kinkuary 23

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buckrecs · 1 year

Text

𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 : 𝙁𝙚𝙗𝙧𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙮

masterlist | monthly fic rec masterlist

FLUFF

Let Me Love You by @slothspaghettiwrites (ABO)

Soup & Cuddles by @beyondspaceandstars

The Gift by @/beyondspaceandstars

Exposure Therapy by @d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n

To Let You Win by @delaber

Truth by @lovelybarnes

You Feel Love! by @halcyonrogers

What Happens in the Dark by @majestyeverlasting

Lost Without You by @jobean12-blog

Undercover Fiancés by @samingtonwilson (Detective AU)

blue jeans by @ichorai

Spice Jars by @fandoms-writings

Eyes That Sparkle by @assembletheimagines

Buchanan by @/assembletheimagines (40s!Reader)

10 Little Lies by @dilemmaontwolegs

Everywhere by @wxntersoldiers

so many kisses, so little time by @sergeantxrogers

black shirts and soggy cereal by @/sergeantxrogers

Genuine by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

heal me, baby by @intrepidacious

A Shot Worth Taking by @rookthorne (Nurse!Bucky)

Heist of the Year by @ghostofskywalker

My Girl by @girl-next-door-writes

Daniel by @buckyalpine

Serious Questions by @espinosaurusrexex

ANGST

The Last First Kiss by @witchywithwhiskey

The Casket by @wkemeup

All This Time by @/jobean12-blog (Neighbor!Bucky)

Braces Are Breaking by @ltbarnes (Parker!Reader)

My Blood Turns Into Alcohol by @ltbarnes (Bartender!Bucky, Mutual Pinning)

My Honey by @/fandoms-writings (Ex!Bucky)

Nothing Breaks Like A Heart by @buckybabesonly

Tarot by @writingcroissant (BF’s Best Friend!Bucky)

I like me better when I’m with you by @themorningsunshine

blue neighborhood by @sergeantxrogers (Husband!Bucky)

perfectly wrong by @buckysdvll (Dark!Bucky)

Look At Me by @rosepetalsinwinter (40s!Bucky x Nurse!Reader)

I’ll Be Waiting For You by @oliverwxod

Together, Forever by @moonbeambucky

Confrontation by @imgoingtofreakoutnow

SMUT

troublemaker by @jurassicbarnes

Overly worried and Touch starved by @buckylattes

The Massage by @/delaber

What do they know? by @bucknastybabe

Stupid by @coffeecatsandcandles (ex husband!Bucky)

Sleepwalking by @lanadelreyscokewhor3 (WS!Bucky)

I Hate U by @duckybarnes1917 (Sub!Bucky)

Cry Me A River? by @threeminutesoflife

Call Shot by @/threeminutesoflife

A Heated Conference by @allthatmarvel

Want to let off some steam? by @kyroscorner

Praise Kink by @bucknastysbabe (Hydra!Reader)

false god by @notafunkiller (Director!Bucky x Actress!Reader)

Sparring Partners by @a-n-conrad

Dressing Up for Bucky by @alwaysf0rev3r

a night in brooklyn by @traitorjoelite (40s!Bucky)

Whiteout by @/dilemmaontwolegs

Linen & Thongs by @softevanstan

Good Graces by @late-to-the-party-81

Feel Good by @russiandoll-from-brooklyn

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blushcoloreddreams · 5 months

Text

7 tips for a thriving journal

Hello and welcome back to the blog my love!

I have been move to speak on the matter of journaling many times before, and today, with the new years spirit still around and everyone adding goals and new habits to their lives, I thought it would be nice to take pen to paper or rather... binary code to screen, and discuss the 7 ways you can improve your journaling life!

1. Read more

I’ll have to be honest with you guys ... the fact is that you are NEVER going to enjoy writing unless you also enjoy READING the written word. Now, we don't need to be cozying up in the evening with our personal diaries as reading material, but I have found that the more I read, the better (and more frequently) I write!

Reading more will stimulate your writing, inspire your words, and most of all, remind you that plenty of people have written millions of words on paper, and you can get through a daily journal entry. ;)

2. Get a pen you actually like

This might sound crazy, but I promise that you WILL write more if you enjoy the type of pen you're using. When I switched over to a really inky black gel pen, I found my cursive gliding over the page at RECORD speeds! It was simply a joy to write! So ditch that creepy pencil, say no to promotional pens, and pick out a cute gel pen!

3. Bring your journal with you everywhere

Most of us don't sit down at 8pm every evening and take pen to paper, outlining our days. Most of us have fluctuating schedules, thought-lives, and energy levels. I have found that bringing my journal with me has helped me write more often, get better ideas, and just... enjoy writing much more!

It changes from a chore to a full-on CHOICE! I encourage you to get a smallish journal and pull that baby out when you're waiting at the dealership, grabbing a coffee, or just... killing time while waiting for your date! It definitely beats scrolling through Instagram, and you will find that catching your most interesting thoughts before they flutter away is HIGHLY satisfying!

4. Use it to sort out your emotions

I remember tearing into my bedroom after a particularly negative ninth grade school day. I threw myself on my bed, snatched a pretty journal I had but never had found use for and began furiously writing about being ditched by my friends after a some intense political debate that took over not only school but the country in 2018 and even if I stayed neutral at the time, the opinion of people close to me was enough for them to slowly exclude me. Instead of wailing, crying, or screaming at my friends, I screamed at my journal. And it was SATISFYING!

As an adult reading back on my impassioned ninth grade emotions, it's shocking to me how intense I felt at the time, but I also find myself feeling quite grateful to have those feelings immortalized forever. I've always done this: recorded my intense emotions, good OR bad. When I fall in love with, my journal becomes filled with my heart's longings and thoughts from our very first weeks. I promise you, either way It’s a cathartic experience that will not only help you process and rationalize what you feel at that moment but also record those feelings and adventures for the future.

When I went through grief and really bad times, my feelings were also sprawled across the pages forever. And sometimes, I like to reflect upon those feelings to remind myself how far I've come, or of what our first love felt like. Journaling helps you work through your emotions, but it also helps catalogue your life in a really meaningful way. Try taking to the pages when you're struggling, in pain, or feeling supremely happy. :)

5. Rotate your writing & topics

In order to stimulate your writing, it's important to rotate through different topics AND different styles of writing. Instead of just writing daily journal entries about your life, try your hand at different categories. I enjoy writing short stories, poetry, daily diary entries, personal thoughts about cultural and social current events, things I wanna learn more about, my goals and future blog ideas!

You could write song lyrics, poetry, novel ideas, blog ideas; the sky is the limit! I encourage you also to not only try writing about different topics, but also try rotating the WAY you write as well. You don't necessarily need to write with a physical pen on paper every time either. Sometimes I prefer opening up google docs, or even this very blog!

6. Use it to connect with God

I like to write out my prayers sometimes... especially if they're really meaningful like prayers of repentance, supplication, or long lists of what I'm grateful to God for. It can help to stimulate your prayer life, AND keep a record of your personal spiritual breakthroughs.

7. Write letters to people

When my father died, we haven’t been in contact for a while but I felt like I still had much to say, words that I wished I had externalized before his passing. However there was nothing stopping me to write to him, even if it felt a bit silly and I knew he’d never read them, it could help calm my mind. So I decided to writing him a few letters could help me cope better with what had just happened, better understand our relationship and even myself.

Now, at first, it can sound pretty unappealing to write to someone who couldn't write back, but before I knew it, it felt like one of the best cathartic experiences I ever had. When my beloved great grandma passed I found myself writing longer and longer letters, detailing different thoughts, and even throwing in some creative writing. I spent so much time sharing my thoughts, feelings, ideas, and heart, that by the end of this all, I felt like I was already in the habit of daily journaling LOL!

So, if you need a spark for your writing habits, I encourage you to start sending some letters to your family members, friends or find a pen pal, I actually loved writing letters on peoples birthdays when I was younger and it was something I really enjoyed rediscovering. Even if the person doesn't write back much, it can really jumpstart your writing!

That's all I have for today my loves! I hope you feel inspired to start writing. Remember, if the notebook life doesn't work out for you, it's okay to turn to the digital keyboard! Just keep trying different angles until you settle on the right formula for you.

xoxo, Julia

#personal #level up #femininity #personal development #glowing up #glow up #level up journey #journal #journaling

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echo-s-land · 6 months

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@chaoticdelinqueerwithglitter

just-sp-in-inginthevoid here! posting that (the prologue/first part of the Hanahaki AU) on main bc there are less chances i'll get unasked for comments/opinions! (I'm very, very scared of talking about my ships on my side blog)

XxxX

Summary: He always felt good around Shinichiro. Existing, breathing… everything was easier around him. Everywhere Shinichiro may go, he’d make sure to follow. He felt so warm around Shinichiro. It was as if flowers bloomed in his chest when Shinichiro smiled at him.

At age 13, he realized he was in love with his best friend.

At age 13, he started to cough flowers.

At age 13, he started to smoke.

Now, he’s about to turn 15 and each day leads him closer to his death.

Loving. What a cruel way to die.

XxxX

He didn‘t remember his life before Shinichiro.

He couldn‘t imagine his life without Shinichiro.

Shinichiro had a strong gravitational field. He attracted every person he met and pushed them to turn around him; gleaming, warm… Takeomi had taken a while to understand what it meant for himself. He was too hypnotized by the perfection that was Sano Shinichiro. He couldn‘t look away. But everything was doing well – Shinichiro looked at him, too. They were never short of playmates: no matter where they went Shinichiro drew them near but at the end there was only him and Shinichiro, nobody else.

Whether it be when their respective parents broke up, when they both became big brother, when Takeomi‘s mother left after giving birth to Senju, when Shinichiro‘s dad die without warning… Shinichiro had been at his side as they got used to their new lifes with their new rules.

So what could Takeomi do if not follow him?

He never got the details as to why his parents broke up --- there had been ups and downs, Takeomi witnessed them, but he didn‘t know what was the last straw. One day Takeomi had both of his parents, the next he had his mother and soon what would become his step-father.

Takeomi became a big brother before Shinichiro. His best friend seemed so happy at the idea. Takeomi was a bit more reluctant. He didn‘t know what it meant; it was a little scary. But seeing Shinichiro so happy, Takeomi told himself that he couldn‘t be that bad. He didn‘t have any news from his father. He… got along with his step-father. They weren‘t that close, but it wasn‘t an issue --- it‘d come over time, right?

They adjusted themselves to their new life. Nothing really changed. They had to get used to babies‘ cry during day and nighttime but that aside, nothing grave. Babies were small.

Shinichiro‘s parents broke up as well. It had been calm and out of a shared agreement contrary to Takeomi‘s parents from what Shinichiro told him, his eyes glistening of repressed tears. He began to cry the second that followed. His weak smile he wore to feign that everything was going well distorted into a horrible grimace.

Takeomi wondered how Manjiro would grew up with only his father. They visited their mother to the hospital from time to time. The Sano parents remained in contact and on good terms, and saw each others sometimes too. Their father saw another woman now from what Shinichiro had told him.

Shinichiro‘s mom continued smiling, even though she couldn‘t see her two sons when she wished. She had a nice smile, Takeomi understood where Shinichiro‘s came from. He looked a lot like her in general. Takeomi, him, looked more like his father which didn‘t help his relationship with his step-father --- but that‘d come!

He only got his eyes from his mother. Shinichiro had told him they were beautiful once. Takeomi had felt very weird and hadn‘t been able to stop smiling. Shinichiro had laughed, telling him his face was entirely red. Yes, it was true, he had felt himself becoming warm everywhere. He retaliated that Shinichiro‘s eyes were themselves very pretty. Shinichiro hadn‘t believed him, thinking Takeomi had only done that to return the favor, that his eyes were common and that he would have preferred to have inherited his father‘s light eyes. Shinichiro‘s eyes weren‘t common. Firstly, because they were Shinichiro‘s, and, and… Takeomi could spent hours thinking about those eyes. It already happened. Two small kind of black holes that sucked everything in but never in a forced way --- two contradictory facts which perfectly represented Shinichiro.

The year that had followed, his mother had announced that he would have a little sister soon. Thinking back about it, even with her cheerful face, she had seemed exhausted. He had been a bit more impatient this time. It was going well with Haruchiyo: they couldn‘t do much together yet and he liked to screamed unlike Takeomi but Takeomi knew that one day or another Haruchiyo would know how to talk and walk and they could play together. Takeomi didn‘t know what he could do with a little sister, but there was surely something!

There had been complications during Senju‘s birth.

His mother had left not long after.

Takeomi found himself responsible to bottle-feed his siblings. He had only done it once prior to that, on his mother‘s lap: she had guided his hands and had done it all, he had been a mere puppet. That lasted one or two weeks before his step-father gave up and sent all three of them at his mother‘s. She had been delighted to have to take care of her grandchildren. A bit less having to take care of Takeomi.

It was cold. He didn‘t have to worry about the infants nor cooking so he didn‘t complain. She didn‘t go up to him to talk but they played shogi sometimes. Fortunately the new house wasn‘t far from where Shinichiro lived with his family. Takeomi didn‘t know how he‘d have dealt with all of that if it hadn‘t been the case.

Two years later, Shinichiro‘s dad died. He never saw Shinichiro cry that much --- and it was Shinichiro. Takeomi had done his best to comfort him. He stayed at his side when the news came. Silence had suffocated them, at least Takeomi had that impression. Shinichiro had collapsed on top of him. They ended up spending the whole afternoon lying on Shinichiro‘s bed while he had cried. Takeomi had remembered of when his father had left him behind. But it wasn‘t the same. He had warped his arms around Shinichiro whose face was drenching his shirt and whose sobs were breaking his heart. He should‘ve gone to the Sano‘s when his father left, he had thought absentmindedly, a hug would‘ve been better than crying alone, doing his best not to throw his mother into a panic.

Shinichiro and Manjiro had to move in their grandpa‘s not so long after; their mother having to stay in the hospital. Fortunately, they were still in Shibuya, Tokyo, not too far from Takeomi.

Without his father, without his mother, Shinichiro started to… act oddly. He was still Shinichiro, no doubt on that, Takeomi would recognize him everywhere, but he started to roll up with bruises and cuts on his body. Takeomi became his nurse of some sort. Shinichiro‘s situation had worried him and Akashi Takeomi had only done one thing in his nothing life --- follow Sano Shinichiro. So he joined him. At the beginning, it was mostly to hold him back when he was going to throw himself into fights then he realized he couldn‘t go up against Shinichiro. No matter how much he tired, he couldn‘t tell him ‘no‘ he couldn‘t stop him from doing what he wanted. And so he started to watch from the sidelines while Shinichiro got beaten up to give him the band-aids more quickly. It didn‘t last long, Takeomi couldn‘t bear to stay here, looking at Shinichiro being pummeled. That‘s how they found themselves both in a world too vast and dangerous form them, leaving little by little their normal life.

As long as he was by Shinichiro‘s side, everything would be fine.

His step-grandmother had noticed it fast. He hadn‘t thought she‘d care, but she did. ‘What kind of example are you giving to your siblings?!!‘ she had screamed. He had wanted to tell her; that he wasn‘t going to drag Haruchiyo and Senju with him, that he‘d keep them far away from danger, that of course he didn‘t want them to fight and lose, bleed, suffer. He hadn‘t said a thing. He had stayed still until his step-grandmother stopped yelling at him, staring at the floor, then he had locked himself in once she had let him go. He hadn‘t rejoice from it. She had left to tell his step-father, without a doubt. In the corridor, Haruchiyo had looked at him, confused, worried. It had been the last straw. He had slammed the door shut, immediately regretted it, thought about Haruchiyo again, to his innocent worry, and broke down crying. He had bitten his lips, refusing any sound to come out, to be heard. He threw a glance blurred by his tears to his window, thought about his grandmother, about the door he had just slammed, about Haruchiyo‘s too expressive face that he couldn‘t bear to see. Everything was about to get worse, he could hear his grandmother yelling his name at the other side of the house. It was best to wait here, to wait the second scolding of the day and endure it. He wouldn‘t handle it. So he stood up on his shaking legs, stepped over his bed, opened his bedroom window and got out. The rain was in full swing since noon, he found himself drenched when he reached the Sano‘s door.

Shinichiro hadn‘t asked a thing. He took him in his arms. They locked themselves in his room. The following day, they had caught a heavy cold.

He woke up to the view of Shinichiro observing him. Shinichiro had smiled down at him when he had noticed Takeomi had woken up. Takeomi‘s heart grew heavier. They had slept together an incalculable number of times --- they were best friends since so long and even if they hadn‘t got many opportunities those past few years they hadn‘t stopped their sleepovers for all that, they had only become rarer.

That was to say that although it hadn‘t been the first time it had happened, it had been the first time Takeomi realized wanting to fall asleep and wake up all his life at his best friend‘s side was perhaps not something best friends wanted to do.

That was to say that it had been the day Takeomi realized he loved Shinichiro, like he had always done, never as a friend.

This day had been the day he found a petal stuck between his teeth.

Months later, it had been Shinichiro‘s turn to gain a little sister. Manjiro had decided to rename himself ‘Mikey‘ around that time. Takeomi never got the full story but it had surely been born out of children‘s logic.

Shinichiro decided to start to smoke soon after (and dragged Takeomi along). Takeomi went from uncertain to a fervent fan of the act when he realized nothing came out of his mouth much anymore --- smoke killed the flowers in his lungs.

Loving Shinichiro, something he had done during his whole life, something that came to him as naturally as breathing, was now the reason behind his chronic asphyxia.

The first flower that blossomed out of his lungs was a freesia. He had coughed almost only that for the first few months. Then it stopped and never came back. But perhaps he hadn‘t noticed them because of his cigarettes and their impact on his lungs and their inhabitants.

Smoke gradually stopped killing the flowers, or maybe was it that the flowers became more resilient, and after his fourteenth birthday it didn‘t do anything to them no more. He was already to addicted at that point and it helped him relax so he didn‘t threw his lighter away and kept spending his allowance on death sticks.

He knew what flowers he coughed because he had bought a book, at the very beginning. It was a common practice, a morbid curiosity. If you die because of something, it was best to know the details, no?

The cashier had done her best not to let anything show through --- that wasn’t her job --- but Takeomi had noticed her slight pity as he was paying for the book.

There were only three kind of person who bought this kind of books: first, florists who wanted to know the meaning behind bouquets they created, then those with a direct or indirect link to hanahaki (often the ills or their families --- doctors and doctors in the making had their own books and didn‘t come to buy for a book for everyday people) and finally, people who were bored.

Takeomi must have looked like an ill man if the cashier had reacted that way.

He had paid and rushed out. He never went back to this store. He should‘ve stolen the book, it would‘ve been easier.

The book was cut in two parts: one on Japanese flower language and one on Victorian flower language, longer. Takeomi didn‘t learn them by heart but when you cough the same flowers over and over again, you start to remember it. He didn‘t know if it was better to know or not.

One of the most interesting information in this book, if not the most important, was about flowers toxicity. Takeomi, who at this moment used to panic everytime he had to hide the flowers --- the proof --- quickly gave up on swallowing them up. Most flowers weren‘t made to be consumed and he was grateful to have learn it this soon.

The book had a chapter dedicated to ‘solutions’ against hanahaki --- as if nobody knew about them. Takeomi flipped through those pages every times, with a rage and disgust he didn‘t think possible to reach.

The disease was focused on the patient‘s feelings. Yet, aside from the extreme solution to get rid of it that everybody knew of there was also another one: one Takeomi knew should be true but avoided to think about.

Hanahaki disappeared when the patient didn‘t experience feelings anymore for the, then former, object of affection.

In no universe would Akashi Takeomi stop having feelings for Sano Shinichiro.

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scarletwinterxx · 2 years

Text

a day with the Lee's - Mark Lee au

Hi! it's been a while 😅😊 i'm just having a hard time writing these days hence the lack of content, sorry :( you can send any request/recommendations for a scenario, I'll see what I can do😊 thank u for the love you've shown this blog even when I'm inactive, i do miss writing too.

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

(pic not mine. credit to original owner)

It's a busy morning in the Lee household, not because you had work but because it's the first time your daughter would go to daycare. Even though you and Mark have already done this before with your oldest, Minjung, you can tell he's more wary and a bit on edge sending his youngest and only daughter to school

"Did you get Min-jee's backpack?" you ask Mark, seeing him come down the stairs.

"Huh oh yea wait a second" Mark jogs back the same way he came from, chuckling at your husband before turning your head back to little Minjee, helping her put her shoes on.

This is like a normal morning for you, Minjung leaves earlier for school then Minjee wakes up and you get her ready for the day. Now she's finally old enough to go to daycare, you were excited to watch your little girl meet kids her age and socialize but Mark on the other hand thought it's too early.

"Are we sure she's ready for this? We can still wait a year more" he says, walking down the stairs and taking the seat beside his daughter. Immediately she reaches out to hold her dad, you thought Minjung was a dada's boy oh you were wrong. Minjee is way more attached to Mark then her brother. Even as a baby, she only ever wants to be held by her dad and Mark loved every second of it.

Maybe it's the reason why he's more affected about sending Minjee to daycare.

"She'll be fine, she needs more friends her age. Plus I can tells she's getting bored being home all the time. Right, love?" you say lightly pinching her cheeks

"Mama, woo" she says referring to the snoopy plushie her uncle Jungwoo gave her when she was a baby, the name woo kinda stuck so now she calls it woo. Minjee takes that stuff toy with her everywhere she goes.

"It's here, Jee. Come on, we need to go" Mark says before scooping her up in his arms, you take the backpack and followed the two out the door.

Mark puts Minjee in her carseat while you settle in the passenger seat. Then the three of you were off.

The whole ride to the daycare you can tell Mark was growing more and more anxious, repeatedly tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, his legs shaking.

"Mark baby, she'll be fine" you smile at your husband.

"Yea I know, I just... How are you not as emotional right now?" he asks you

"I think I got most of it out with Minjung. I can still remember bawling my eyes out in the parking lot when we left him on his first day" you answer, reaching over to rest your hand on his knee.

"She'll do great, we know the teacher's here they'll take good care of her"

"I know I know"

Letting out a chuckle, you let him be.

When you finally got to the daycare, Mark parks the car but made no move to step out.

"Babe?"

"I can't do this" he mumbles under his breath

"Huh? What did you say?"

"Baby, I don't think I can leave her here. Let's just wait one more year" he said turning to you, this time you see his eyes almost close to tears. Again this made you giggle, taking his face between your hands before giving him a sweet short kiss.

"She'll be fine, who knows maybe she'll love it. Right, Jee?" you say outloud to which you hear your daugther reply with a tiny "Yea!" making you and Mark smile.

The three of you walk hand in hand towards the entrace, you see other parents drop their kids off. Some kids were crying some were okay and walked inside with no problem. Minjee was looking around, the environment definitely new to her. When you got closer at the door, Mark stops walking. Crouching infront his daughter, you can see he's really trying to fight back the tears.

"Hey, me and mama will be right here when you finish later okay?" he asks the girl, "Remember what we talked about last night? You'll play with your classmates and teachers and you'll learn your ABC'S and colors"

"Color with dada?" she asks

"Uh well, dada has to go. But I'll be here when you finish"

"Dada not go with Jeejee?" she asks, a pout already forming on her tiny lips.

Uh oh.

You knew that look. That's the look that would make Mark run to the ends of the Earth just to get what his daughter wants.

"Well uh I uhm Dada can't come with Jeejee"

"Why no dada?" she asks

This time you decided to intervene before the two of them cries right here right now, "Dada and mama will be here okay? You'll go inside and do lot's of fun activities then when you're done we'll be here and Minjung too"

"Oppa?" Minjee smiles upon hearing her brother's name

"Mhm, we'll pick you up later then we'll get ice cream how does that sound?" you tell her, immediately the frown turns into a smile. Then a teacher approaches you, "Hi! Is she joining us for today?"

"Yes, this is Minjee" you say, standing up to greet the teacher

"Oh Mrs. Lee, nice to see you again! Mr. Lee" she greets the two of you, she was Minjung teacher before

"Then this must be Minjung's little sister, she looks just like him. Hello, Minjee I'm your teacher" she says crouching down to greet your daughter

"I know right, Mark's carboncopies" you laugh

"We better get inside, class will start soon. Like always, you can come around 11am to pick her up"

"Yes, we've been briefed during the orientation. Okay Minjee, you need to go inside now. Can mama have a hug?" you ask, crouching down again to hug her before she goes.

"Can't forget dada, come here princess. Dada will come later okay? then we'll cuddle after school" Mark says as he hugs her tightly like he doesn't want to let her go.

"Otay, babye dada babye mama" she tells the to of you. Waving her tiny hand before walking with her teacher. You and Mark watch until she gets inside.

You reach out and intertwine your hand with Mark's, feeling your husband squeeze your hand before walking back to where you parked.

When you get inside the car, you wait for him to say something.

"Love? You alright?"

"I think I'm gonna cry" you hear him mumble, how can this man have two kids and yet still be this adorable.

"Aw love, come here" you say opening your arms for him, Mark gladly hugging you. Holding you tightly against him.

"Our babies are growing up too fast" he says

You pat his back a few times, kissing his cheek before pulling away to look at him.

"I know, she's our second but it doesn't really get easier" you sigh

"How are you not as emotional?" Mark asks you

"Me? Oh I am emotional, you're just being too cute right now. Plus, Minjee might love going to school like Minjung" you tell him, kissing him on the lips before buckling in.

"Now, we have a few hours to ourselves Mr. Lee. What do you say we have some us time?" you smile at him, Mark blinks back at you then he's pulling out the driveway with the sound of your laughter resonating in the car.

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chemicallady · 8 months

Text

I'd like to say something at this point.

I'm reading here and there that some of you are changing their vision about Noah or reaching the point to ask yourself if you still want to be a supporter of him because of what that blog said about him.

I believe that what happened between Noah and this person is probably true, I don't have any reason to doubt about her. But.

As we say in Italy, you can't fully believe to a story if you ear just one-side bell. Noah doesn't have the chance to tell his side of the story because he has better things to do than care about gossip. More than that, it's a human being. We have to look at the big picture. I don't want to defend him at all costs, I actually really don't care because untill he will be a decent person in public (not saying bullshit like Ronnie, for instance) and continue to be polite to his supporters, we are cool. I think I'm far older than more than half of the rest of this (sometimes really bad) fandom because I was a teen in the years of the emo wave. You maybe don't know about the Used, early MCR, Radke himself, Oli Sykes before Sempieternal...

They were drugs addicted. Always drunks as skunks. Pissing on people, throwing mic stands in the pit, get FULLY NAKED on stage (I'll never forgot about this, Quinn Allman). They did some awful shit in front of they supporters and to their supporters. Things that nowadays would get them canceled. You have no idea (maybe, or maybe you have) of what was Warped Tour 2005. Or maybe it was 2004? I can't recall.

Bad Omens are TODDLERS compared to this people. Innocent, pure babies. They are nice, extrovert maybe but nice. No one can deny that. They dont do drugs, they dont get drunk on stage or fuck around this supporters. They have an healthy routine in tour, they are teaching people to not fucking fight, they don't fuel fights! Its NORMAL in metal to have a couple of injuries at concerts. Collateral damages. I was nine at my second concert and I saw Slipknot. One dude broke his nose in the pit. Blood everywhere.

It's not a fucking Hannah Montana show. Those dudes are suppose to be badass. Noah is not pretending to be someone else or faking a new personality. He is doing is job and he is delivering pretty good shows. In no time he will grab his crotch around moaning like Oli, give him fucking space to express himself and be feral. Like any other metal artist.

Another thing.

Bad Omens vip experience is not expensive. I don't have interest in buy vip pass for 30 second of nothing, I'd rather wait after the gig is over. I met so many artists this way and usually they are more appreciable if they don't have to move to the next city. BUT the costs is not that high. I bought vip pass for LP once and I had to work 3 months to save enough for it. And I was still living at my parents'!

The merch is high quality, they make new pieces every time.... that's their way to get real cash guys. During a tour you have to pay tons of shit: the venue, flights, hotels, your crew. And you pay in advance most of the time. I don't think they are rich bitches rn. They are doing fine probably but still many of them lives with friends. Having flatmates is many time a signal that you can't afford Ronnie Radke house in Paradise Palisades.

I heard that they weren't really nice during the set in Canada. Maybe Montreal or Toronto. Someone felt bad, someone dropped a surfer I don't know. I didn't follow this I here for dirty smutty ff. If I want to see them play I have tiktok. By the way you have to know that most of the time you can't see shit from stage. Because you have lights in your face pointing your eyes. So probably noah just say a crow surfer falling and thought 'here we go again, this people has no fucking etiquette', and he left the stage. Or maybe who owned the venue asked them to do so in case of emergency.

BTW there is no fucking etiquette at their concerts. I stand with him if he's pissed off about that. It's not that hard to understand that you have to stay at the sides if you're not used to metal shows or you don't want to be pushed. Other people is ruining your experience or maybe its simply not for you. I grew up in the moshpit and that's how we like our shit. We have no time for filming or make tiktoks, we live the moment (we, people who like metal music, I'm not gatekeeping. If you wanna learn how to survive the pit and enjoy the experience just message me.)

So, to sum up.

My point is that every one of us has that friend that was a dick with one or more girls we still love him because we know that he's a weirdo an not a bad person.

My advice is stop being obsessed with Noah and just enjoy his work. You dont know him, you cant tell. Don't believe everything, stories are getting bigger and bigger everytime their are told, and think about the fact that straight guys are mostly jerks. They take more time to mature and act like adults. We know that Noah is in therapy now, he open up about it, so he is aware that he is not perfect.

BECAUSE HE IS NOT. HE IS A HUMAN BEING AND HUMANS MAKE MISTAKES.

That's it.

I don't want to fuel fights as well but please stop being ridiculous and acting like he is insulting you personally. It's fine to be delululu but your pushing the limits.

Peace and love.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #metal show #mosh pit

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jewish-vents · 2 months

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My entire life, I've yearned for the kind of community the Jewish community and Judaism have provided me. I found out I had Jewish ancestry when I was a kid, I looked into it more later and realized my most recent Jewish ancestor (like three-ish generations back) was almost certainly forcibly converted out, and decided to convert to like. Make amends for that I guess and also because I really vibed with the holidays and how we turn up everywhere in history bc we keep doing cool stuff despite consistently shitty circumstances.

But I digress.

I have waited my WHOLE LIFE trying to experience the joy becoming Jewish has shown me, and that gets shit on constantly.

My sister has started making a truly obscene number of Jew jokes. My mom scoffs at all the 'nonsense rules' and has said repeatedly that she thinks choosing a 'restrictive' religion is dumb and I've made a mistake. She even said it's an insult to HER parenting skills that I would seek out religion after she tried to teach me to know better.

My dad is dead but I never ever in a million years would have told him even if he were alive, and my sister thinks it's funny to threaten to 'out' me as Jewish to his relatives even though they're basically KKK-adjacent so she actually enjoys threatening mg safety at this point. (Yay family right?)

My friends have turned everything into an Israel/Palestine discussion lately and I know damn well what they're doing when they start saying truly horrible shit about Israelis and looking at me. They get mad if I try to temper their extremism so I've given up. I barely talk to them anymore and I spend more and more time with other Jews from temple and I don't want to like. Isolate myself from all non-Jews I guess bc I've always felt like that leads to weirdness and perpetuates shit about Jews being unfriendly I guess idk?

Anyway I digress again. My point is I'm really sick of constantly being expected to tolerate it when people think I shouldn't be Jewish.

Other queer people think I'm somehow compromising my queer identity by being Jewish, leftists think I hunt Palestinian children for sport now apparently, right-wingers think I traffic good Christian babies for organ harvesting or some shit idfk, my friends think that if I'm not being more vitriolic in my hatred of Israel than they already are I'm some kind of secret rabid Netanyahu fan, my family think I've been recruited into a cult apparently and the only other people who show me even an ounce of compassion or regard are other Jews and Gd knows there's like ten of us and that number is unlikely to increase.

Just. Fuck. I've put blood, sweat, tears and money into this, I invested more time and emotional commitment into this than I have into going to college or choosing a career, I love it more than anything and have only loved it more the more I learned about it, and all I get when I express this or even just let slip that I am Jewish and chose to be, I get nothing but hatred. I will never understand how a religion that has spent all 5000 years of our existence minding our business and arguing about the same book over and over can possibly have offended this many people with our existence.

Dmn anon, that is a lot you're dealing with right now. I'm so sorry you're surrounded by people who clearly don't respect you. Because yes this is a lack of basic respect, and it is antisemitic. Now I don't know how old you are and how safe you are, but if you can safely do so, set very hard boundaries. Do not tolerate this amount of disrespect towards who you are. It is hard, and many of us have had to go through similar situations, as you can read all over this blog. But I think having to spend your life surrounded by people who make you feel unsafe and disrespected is worse. I know sometimes there are situations in which people cannot safely set these boundaries, I hope it's not your case, but if it is feel free to come here to vent again.

I know you don't want to isolate yourself from goyim. Many Jewish people don't want to. Sadly, when people disrespect us like this, they're the ones isolating us. It's not your fault. Seek people who love and accept you. Sadly, a good chunk of goyim won't - I'm not saying everyone, obviously, but a portion. Having a good Jewish support network seems to be more and more important, whether it's irl or online.

I hope you can soon be in an environment that's safer and more accepting

- 🐺

#jewish vents #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #jewish convert #i feel like i need to clarify #while i said that a good portion of goyim are disrespectful and antisemitic #i dont mean every goy is #so if someone is coming in the comments to call me goy-phobic i assure you i do not have the patience to deal with that #i mean what i said #thats not an attack on goyim #its just an observable truth stated by literally every jewish person I've ever spoken to #if you feel offended at being called antisemitic try not to be antisemitic #like im sorry i sound so mad but i am just very tired of seeing my community suffer while everyone else just looks the other way

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magicaldragons · 3 months

Text

ugramm (vs. salaar)

for @noisywolfwagonpeanut-blog

so, Ugramm takes place on a much smaller scale than Salaar, where:

Khansaar = Mughor Devaratha = Agastya Varadha = Balaa Aadhya = Nithya Krishnakanth = Prabhakar Vishwa = Bilal Shivarudra, an MLA, and his son, Dheeraj who are equivalents for Khansaar's leaders

the plot, with comparisons:

the movie starts with an animated backstory, telling us that the reason Nithya's dad is in so much trouble is because he was asked to make a shipment (since he owns a shipping company) for Shivarudra's smuggled goods, and he refuses, due to which his wife is killed

before the men can kill Nithya, who is a baby at the time, Prabhakar promises to make the shipment, but he steals most of the materials, selling them himself. He tips the police off about Shivarudra, and runs to Australia with Nithya.

this is particularly interesting because the reason that Krishnakanth is in trouble hasn't been revealed yet in Salaar, but it's the first thing we find out in ugramm i highly doubt the reason will be the same in Salaar though, since it's implied Aadhya's mother dies in Australia and never got a chance to visit India.

Twenty years later, Shivarudra is out of jail, though he has been keeping the syndicate active through his son, and he still craves vengeance on Prabhakar.

he's in a state similar to Radha Rama, which probably means that Krishnakanth is the reason that Radha Rama had to leave Khansaar, and does not really show her face anywhere, choosing to operate instead through obulamma, vedha, and the others.

In the present day, an older Nithya comes to Bangalore to visit her mother's grave (not with ashes), and is kidnapped by Dheeraj's men, but Agastya comes for her after receiving a call from a friend (Vishwa) and takes her to his home afterwards

therefore it's Agastya who saves her (without violence, specifically), and develops a rapport with Nithya, rather than how it is in Salaar, with Bilal doing most of the work, and minimal involvement from Deva.

Starting here, there's a whole series of events that bring Agastya and Nitya closer, and MANY motifs and themes that recur, as a symbol of their feelings for each other.

this is a section, that even though it gets major importance in Ugramm, is completely skipped in Salaar, with prashanth even going as far as to not show any chemistry between Aadhya and Deva whatsoever. there's also much more comedy and lightheartedness in Ugramm, which prashanth has cut out of Salaar, which really drives it home that he means for Salaar to be very dark and undeniably gritty.

some of these scenarios include:

Agastya teaching Nithya the names of various vegetables in Kannada, because she's temporarily responsible for the cooking and other housework (since Agastya is hiding her true identity from his mother).

Nithya bothered by people in the market place, which is when Agastya's mother gives him permission to save her. [he draws a line around her in the sand (with an umbrella) and says: "the line is drawn. everything in this circle belongs to me"]

a whole montage telling us that, Agasthya will be everywhere Nithya is, just a step behind her, and as long as he is there, no one will dare to touch her.

Agastya sheltering her from the rain. with an umbrella. several times

he saves her from Shivarudra's men, and finds where she's hiding based on the fruit she describes to him over a call, because she doesn't know where she is (it's a gooseberry)

he takes her to her mother's grave and when they reach she says: "do i look pretty? (for my mother)" & he's just awestruck by her beauty

basically, prashanth really builds a meaningful relationship between Agastya & Nithya and makes us root for them.

there's this scene where Agastya's tattoo is revealed to Nithya, and she has a whole phase where she's kind of scared (unlike Aadhya, who is immediately fascinated by Deva's violence), but it still serves as relationship development for the both of them.

in Salaar, on the other hand, Deva and Aadhya barely get a chance to talk, and Deva doesn't really form the best of first impressions which makes me wonder: if prashanth intends on putting Deva and Aadhya together, would he really save all of that characterization and plot, just to dump it on us in part two?

Eventually, after observing how mysterious Agastya has been at times, and hearing rumors from the neighbors, Nithya asks Vishwa about Agastya's past, which is then shown to us in a way that's not as elaborate as what we see in Salaar.

an important point to note is that throughout the course of Ugraam's flashback, we know that Agasthya is intensely loyal to Balaa due to a promise made when they were children, but we see no proper reason for that fealty. We are never told why Agastya goes so far for Balaa, so there's no emotional quotient tied to any of Agastya's actions. Balaa especially is shown to be a bit smug when people witness the power Agastya holds, which makes it feel a little like Balaa is using Agastya as a weapon, and not as if Agastya is offering it himself.

Agastya saves the women of Mughor from a man like Vishnu (but imagine without the theatrics), which gets Balaa put in jail, and the way Agastya storms the jail to get Balaa out (which takes two minutes) is extremely anticlimactic compared to what happens in Salaar.

after getting Balaa out of jail, Agastya promises to conquer Mughor for him, and there's a specific scene where he gives Balaa a map and says:

"whatever you point at, will be yours"

this is the point in the plot at which Salaar: Ceasefire ends.

Following this, Agastya goes on a rampage, capturing areas of Mughor for Balaa, which gains both him and Balaa several enemies. Politically, things become heated, and it doesn't help that some people, including Balaa's brother, want credit for some victories.

Balaa's brother is irrationally aggressive at times, and this reaches a limit when Balaa's brother threatens an innocent women, whose husband they have just killed. Agastya disagrees with hurting her, since she's not involved, and helps the woman. Balaa's brother, feeling humiliated, says something about hurting Agastya's mom, and that turns out horribly, leading to a fight. This then ends with the brother's death, when he actually attempts to find Agastya's mother.

There is a chance that Deva will be responsible for Baachi's death for different reasons (and an even smaller chance that Baachi might not die at all), especially because Amma isn't in Khansaar when Deva returns, after 25 years. He returns alone. In, Ugramm, Agastya and his mother only escape their hometown when Agastya is well into adulthood. Ugramm does not have Salaar's childhood plot whatsoever, which changes the circumstance around Deva's return to Khansaar. This means that, if Deva invokes Varadha's rage by hurting/killing Baachi, it might be for something other than Baachi threatening his mother.

Agastya decides to leave Mughor, knowing that what he has done will be unforgivable for Balaa, and Balaa stops him right before they leave, intent on killing him. Agastya's mother, worried for her son, begs Agastya to make her a promise that he will never enter Mughor again or commit violence.

Agastya makes the promise at the last moment, and Balaa decides not to hurt him, before they part ways.

Fast forward to the present, Nithya's dad comes for her from Australia, and Agastya lets her go, (due to the classic 'she's too good for me' syndrome) which disappoints her, but she is then kidnapped and taken to Mughor, compelling Agastya once more, to step foot into that place.

Agastya fights to save her, killing Dheeraj in the process, but just before leaving, Balaa finds him. Agastya refuses to fight, willing to accept whatever punishment Balaa deems necessary, as long as Nithya is spared,

but Balaa, after consideration says:

"I won't fight a man who won't fight back. Even if I win, it'll bring me shame to attack a man who is already weak from fighting."

Before Balaa lets him go, he makes it clear that he has somewhat moved on, and acknowledges their friendship once again, calling Nithya "sister-in-law".

The movie ends with Agastya and Nithya outside of Mughor's borders, where he tells her to let him go, because of the way he is. She refuses, drawing a line in the sand around him as a callback to the first time he fought for her, and tells him that "everything in the circle belongs to her," ending the movie with the both of them together, and their prospective futures ahead of them.

this is where many things can go wrong if prashanth decides to put Deva and Aadhya together in a similar way, because he has not set them up for that. with the way he's laid out the plot and characterization, it is legitimately impossible to imagine: 1. Deva choosing anyone over Varadha, even if Varadha dies by the end of part two or 2. Varadha letting Deva go after they meet again, especially if he is able to move on from whatever Deva did that hurt him

All in all, Prashanth has made many minor changes regarding detailing, for the story to flow better, and he's scaled Salaar up to seem grander than life. It's evident that he has put more care into explaining every facet of the story, so that there's no plot holes, and been able to use Ugramm as a stepping stone to make Salaar that much better.

The major differences include showing us Varadha and Deva's childhood, and taking out all of Deva & Aadhya's relationship development, along with giving many of Nithya & Agastya's parallels to Varadeva, which suggests a different ending for Salaar: Shouryaanga Parvam, than that of Ugramm.

#a summary of ugramm #and comparisons with salaar #there's more to be said. but things were getting long o.O #prashanth's been saving that banger of a dialogue (“ashes must be blown off the coal to feel the heat”) since ugramm. which. understandable #all umbrella references still have me screaming. no way soorede wasn't intentional #might add gifs since it's just a wall of text rn #salaar #ugramm

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justanamesstuff · 11 months

Text

I pretend that I'm not ready - Matty Healy x F!reader

Part 2 of this story, inspired by 'Why' - Shawn Mendes

A/N: Again very painful to write but I'm obsessed with this. I hope you guys like it!! let me know <3

Warnings: swearing, hurt feelings, mention of alcohol, cheating, typos.

Word count: 2.8 k

Blog Masterlist

I know a girl, she's like a curse

We want each other, no one will break first

So many nights, trying to find someone new

They don't mean nothing compared to her, and I know

Matty carried Y/n away from all the prying looks of the guests. He didn’t care about anyone else than her. Their conversation playing again and again inside his mind, trying to tear it apart, to find meaning behind her words, her face.

Nathalie was behind him, he could hear the sound of her heels on the marbled floor. He felt bad to recognize he didn’t care if she traced behind him or not. All that Matty could think about was his friend’s pale face before falling into his arms.

His pulse razing thinking of her state. She was in his arms but what was the cost?

The first door that was unlocked, he pushed it open. An expensive couch occupying one of the corners of the room. Matty gently rested her unconscious body on the couch.

“Matty?” Nath closed the door behind her.

“Yeah?” he was dry, distant. He didn’t intend to be harsh with his wife. ‘His wife’, his head turned to look at her.

Matty saw how she studied him kneeling beside the couch, clenching his friend’s hand, “Is she alright?”

“I’m not sure.” he couldn’t tear his eyes too long from her closed eyes, waiting she wakes up any minute.

“Maybe we should call one of the bo-”

“No. I’m staying.” his words cutting her quickly.

“Matty, it’s our wedding.”

“She’s my best friend.”

“Believe me, I know.” she said.

Matty got angry, sensing the poison under her words, “What that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not stupid, Matthew.”

He closed and open his mouth repeatedly, unsure of the next sounds dropping from his lips. Nathalie didn’t see that.

“Go back to the party, I’ll be there in a minute.”

She left without saying a word.

******

“I’ll come to check on you.” Matty said, walking far from her, feeling his chest closing.

“Fine.” her voice sounding like if she was under the water, unsure.

Matty turned around, holding the door open, staring at her beautiful face still lacking a good colour. “See you in a bit, sweetheart.” he promised her.

He walked along the halls, trying to find his way back to the salon. His mind was everywhere when she fainted, he couldn’t recall the path he took. Matty made the effort to clear his mind. It was his wedding day.

“Baby.” Nathalie exclaimed, rounding her brother, so she was in front of Matty.

“Hey.” he said softly, letting his hands trace her waist. “I’m sorry.” he whispered.

She held his cheeks, staring into his eyes, “It’s fine. Is she okay?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, let’s celebrate! I told Caleb to check on her.”

Matty felt a protest in the back of his throat, even though the moment they shared before his friend wake up was tense enough. Nathalie was his wife, he had duties now. She would understand his position if he didn’t return for the night.

“Perfect.” he mumbled, kissing her.

When people ask about us, now, we just brush it off

I don't know why we act like it means nothing at all

I wish that I could tell you that you're all that I want, yeah

Matty emptied his glass of red wine. Dinners at his in-laws were a routine he dreaded, but Nathalie insisted on him spending time with her family. It’s not like he hated them, thing was that night he wanted to be in bed. The singer has spent hours on airports and planes coming home from the other side of the world. Nathalie greeted him with a kiss and a reminder. Matty made his attempt, tried to skip it, although she started saying the same words he already knew by heart. He wasn’t in the mood to hear her.

He brought his phone out of his pocket. The cutlery against the plates, the women standing while the man watched them. Matty’s fogged mind trying to prevent his mouth to speak up about it. His finger moved by memory, searching for her contact number. She hadn’t answered in days, no new texts. He blocked his phone with a huff.

“Mate.” ‘I’m not your mate, I’m your sister’s husband, asshole’, Matty thought looking at Caleb, waiting for his next attempt of sentence. “What’s the name of your friend?”

Matty gripped the cloth of his trousers harder than he should. He wanted to punch him.

Her name wasn’t supposed to be on Caleb’s lips. Ever. He wasn’t the one for her. His friend’s name on Matty’s lips felt bittersweet.

“Yeah, her. Do you know who she is, dad?”

‘Pathetic’.

“No, who?” Nathalie’s father asked, changing his focus to stare at Matty.

Matty’s mouth dried before he could mutter a “My best friend.”

“The one that fainted?”

“Her.” Caleb answered before Matty. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but…” ‘if he had to add that last word, of course I’m taking it the wrong way’. “We talked when I went to check on her during your wedding. Didn’t have the chance to exchange numbers. I was wondering maybe you-”

“No.” Matty cut him short. The men stared at him with puzzled looks, Matty felt uncomfortable so he added, “I can ask her.”

“Dessert!” his mother-in-law came with a big cake, interrupting the moment.

Nathalie sat back down beside him, taking his hand to her lap. “What were you talking about?”

“I-” Matty stared at Caleb.

His brother explained, “I was asking Matty for his friend’s number, as you suggested.”

Matty turned to look at his wife. ‘She did what?’

Nathalie’s shoulders dropped, staring at Matty with a big pout. “Come on, baby! They would make a great couple.”

“I said, I’ll ask her.”

“It’s not a big deal. She’s your friend, he’s my brother. It is between the family.” she insisted.

“Nath-”

“Please.” she begged.

Matty took his phone out, hearing Nathalie squealed.

I pretend that I'm not ready

Why do we put each other through hell?

Why can't we just get over ourselves?

And you say hi like you just met me

Why do we put each other through hell?

Why can't we just get over ourselves?

The ceremony of barbecues was a concept Matty couldn’t grab his head around. Even though it was one of the few times the men had to cook the main course. Matty kept his mouth closed, drinking from his beer.

Even when they were outside, all the air lacked when she entered the patio, followed by Caleb. After months, she was in front of him. After months, she was not only a creation of his mind, his memory. She was there.

Caleb made her laugh, walking closer to Matty and his father-in-law. Matty felt the urge to punch him in the gut. He sipped from the bottle, studying her outfit. She looked perfect like never before. ‘She was happier without me in her life?’

When the new couple stood in front of the other men, she greeted the older man under the attentive sight of Matty. Her eyes on the person speaking and no one else. Matty wanted to jump or do something to catch her attention.

“Okay, Caleb, help me out with the meat.” Nathalie’s father pronounced. The man in question looked between Matty and her as if he knew something Matty didn’t. He was his confident now, not him. Matty emptied the bottle.

They stood there, awkwardly.

“Maybe I should-” she gestured back to the house.

“You disappeared from months. No texts back, don’t pick up my calls, nothing.” Matty rambled, looking down at the empty bottle. “And now you want to run back to your new boyfriend, huh?” his tone was bitter.

“Matty.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There is nothing to understand.”

Matty caught her eyes, “You have to be messing with me, sweetheart.” the nickname foreign.

“Please.”

“Yes, fucking please.” he begged at her, exasperated. “What went wrong? What did I do or not do?”

“We can’t do this right now, Matty.”

She said after storming back into the house. He swore under his breath.

When I hear you sing, it gets hard to breathe

Can't help but think every song's about me

And every line, every word that I write

You are the muse in the back of my mind, oh

The barbecue during the day extended further than expected. It was after dinner, every adult around the table drunk and didn’t think about stopping soon.

Matty’s father-in-law started laughing until the sound converted on a song, everybody except Matty joined. The singer shielded his face, especially his eyes, with his glass looking at her singing with Caleb’s arm around her shoulders. The whisky burning his throat, although he stopped feeling anything a long time ago when she walked out of his life.

Nathalie rested her head on his shoulders, he didn’t mind. His attention wasn’t on his wife.

His mind bringing back strange scenarios, memories really from another life when they were friends and young, lying on his bedroom floor. He used to beg her to sing for him, she refused every time. The only exception was when he was sick, only then she caved in giving him was he begged fighting the fever.

She noticed his eyes on her, staring back as best as she could while being drunk. Matty’s heart stopped for a second. She pushed her glass up, toasting with him. For what? He wasn’t sure, but she was smiling at him…he didn’t care.

Don't want to ask about it 'cause you might brush it off

I'm afraid you think that it means nothing at all

I don't know why I won't admit that you're all I want

Matty opened the bathroom door without thinking.

“Hey!” she protested, turning around, standing in front of the mirror.

The state of both of them was something time before they would laugh about. Matty entered the small space and closed the door.

“What are you doin’ Matty?” she sounded defeated.

“I can’t any more.”

Matty stood closer to her body, although no close enough. She folded her arms, trying to create some space between them. It was difficult.

“Sweets.” he pleaded.

She couldn’t believe him. “What do you want, Matty?”

“Why you disappeared?”

“I-”

“Why you are with him?”

“Caleb?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not your business.”

“If it’s about you, it’s always…always my business, sweets.” the nickname made her weak. She shook her head, trying to find the right words.

“Matty.” she tried.

The singer brushed her hair back, watching her taking in his factions, he was closer like never before. Matty’s friend bite down onto the plush meat of her bottom lip, grabbing his attention. The simple action drove Matty insane.

“Don’t do this.”

“I can’t pretend any more.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know.” Matty let his nose brushed the tip of his nose with hers.

“No, I don’t.”

Her name always sounded different on his lips, even though it always sounded special for some reason.

“You’re playing with fire. This is wrong. I- We- I should get back…”

She left again without giving him the chance to speak.

I pretend that I'm not ready

Why do we put each other through hell?

Why can't we just get over ourselves?

And you say hi like you just met me

Why do we put each other through hell?

Why can't we just get over ourselves?

Fighting with your wife. ‘What a cliché’, Matty thought, making the car turn into a corner.

Nathalie wasn’t happy with him touring even more than he promised we would during that year. Her anger with him being against having children was turning into resentment. At the same time, Matty care less and less every single day.

He had been driving for more than an hour. He turned his phone off, so Nathalie couldn’t reach him, and he was avoiding going to the boy’s houses to give her fewer options even.

The neighbours changed until his car moved around one he knew very well. Only one person he was familiar with lived there. He didn’t remember exactly the address of her new house with Caleb. Matty refused to visit them every time his wife tried to drag him there, she could drag him to hell but not there.

Matty remembered the time they moved together. Well, the time she spoke about it during a Sunday lunch when Matty’s heart was stabbed. She looked directly into his eyes, saying it, as if she waited for his reaction. He did nothing.

The moment inside the bathroom playing constantly in his mind. She was so close, he was so close to tell her. Every day, the urge to scream the words out from his rotting heart.

He thought about her when he woke up, when he went to sleep, when he was away. The guilt to think about someone that wasn’t his wife. He was married, for fuck's sake. Matty didn’t care any more.

It was almost midnight when his car turned around another corner and a familiar small car took his attention.

*****

Matty knocked and knocked on the front door like it was an emergency.

“Coming…I’m coming!” she said from the other side of the door. He definitely woke her up, her voice strange after probably not using it for hours.

The singer witnessed the moment she opened the door only wearing shorts and a big baggy shirt, her feet bare.

“Matty?”

“Hi, sweets.”

She peeked outside to both sides of the road, “What are you doing here?”

“Nathalie and I fought.”

“Oh.” she stayed there, not really knowing what to say or do.

Matty scratched the back of his head, “Can I come in?”

“Matty…”

“Please.”

She sighed loud, turning around to stand inside, making movements with her hand, so he moved inside. Matty almost ran inside.

He was aware Caleb wasn’t home, Nathalie had mentioned something about a trip or travelling for his job, he couldn’t recall.

They moved to the living room, Matty sat on the big couch, taking in the decoration and the pictures around the fire place. He wasn’t on any of the pictured frames.

Contrary to him, she decided to keep her distance.

“What are you doing here?” she asked once more.

“I- I was driving around town. I don’t have a place to go.”

“So you just remembered my house?”

“Something similar.”

“How convenient.”

Matty pronounced her name, staring into her tired eyes.

“Do you miss me?” he asked, suddenly, surprising even himself.

“I see you every Sunday of the month, Matty.”

“That’s not-”

Her mouth hang open, his eyes glutted to it, “What do you want me to say, Matty?”

“The truth.”

“Fuck you.”

He nodded. “I deserved that.” he admitted. “I do. I miss you like a crazy man, sweets.”

“Stop calling me that!” she wandered around the room.

“Why?”

“‘Cause when you call me that, I remember all the men I’ve loved and lost.” her eyes shining with tears, meanwhile sense entered the singer’s mind.

“Sweetheart.” Matty stood up, she took a step back.

“No.”

“You haven’t lost me.”

“I did.”

“You walked away from my life, sweets.” he reminded her.

Her eyes bored into his. “It was too much, Matty.”

“Why?”

She scoffed, ending in a chuckled. “Don’t you know?”

“Say it.” he dared her.

Matty walked closer and she let him invade her space. His hands coming to rest on her cheeks. He repeated his words again. “Say it.”

She looked between his eyes, “I loved you…my entire life. I love you for years, and you didn’t notice, you didn’t care.” tears burning in the corner of her eyes. “I watched you fell in love with…her. Hell, I watched you married her, Matty. I watched from the side, loving you to a point that almost drove me insane. I loved you to a point I didn’t do anything about it because you were so happy…so happy with her. My love is not selfish, I’m not selfish.”

“Am I?” Matty pushed his forehead into hers.

“Yes.” she protested. “I’m with Caleb, Matty. I found someone that loves me, truly does.”

His breath caressed her lips, exhaling, “Do you love him?”

She didn’t answer right away, his presence overwhelmed her, a big distraction. “Yes.”

“Did you stop loving me?”

“Matty.”

“Because I don’t think I function without loving you.”

“This is not funny.” she tried to push back, away from him. Although, Matty was adamant about not letting her go. “All what I said and you just-”

His lips crushing against hers, shutting his lover up in the sweetest way possible. Matty held the back of her head, pressing her mouth against his. The singer tried to pour into the kiss everything he was uncapable to tell her. Just how much she meant to him, how much he loved her, and how what they had was forever.

I know a girl, she's like a curse

We want each other, no one will break first

So many nights, trying to find someone new

They don't mean nothing compared to you

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