#go chase your passion for music babe

[kpd-zero]

I love bard Astarion so much, he's such a silly little rock star

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Good Luck Babe

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader, Wandavision

Summary: Wanda tries to push her feelings for you down by hooking up with Vision.

Word count: 1K

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, angst, no happy ending

Authors note: I never write angst or unhappy endings so I'm sorry to who this hurts but I also hurt myself with this one

The bar was buzzing with life, the bass from the music vibrating through the floor and into your bones. You tried to ignore the sight of Wanda and Vision at the other end of the room, but it was impossible. Wanda was taking shots and hanging all over Vision, her laughter piercing through the crowd. The two of them were kissing, and you felt a pang of jealousy and frustration.

You sipped your drink, your eyes occasionally drifting back to them. When Wanda stumbled to the bar next to you, your eyes shot her a glance. "You know kissing him isn't gonna change anything. It's not gonna stop the feelings, little witch."

Wanda turned to you, her eyes widening slightly as your words seemed to almost sober her up. "It's just the way I am. I can do whatever I want, Y/N."

You rolled your eyes at her words. "Make a new excuse, Wands, another stupid reason. This isn't you. It certainly isn't the girl I rescued in Sokovia who didn't think she could ever be a hero."

Your words felt like venom to Wanda. Her expression hardened, her walls going up completely as she grabbed a glass and downed a double shot. You watched her, your heart aching as you saw the pain flicker in her eyes for a brief moment before she turned back to Vision.

You knew this wasn’t the real Wanda, the Wanda you knew and cared about. But confronting her like this, in a bar full of people, felt like the only way to get through to her. You just hoped that somewhere beneath the bravado and the alcohol, she was still listening.

Without thinking, you grabbed her arm, pulling her against you so your lips crashed together. The kiss was electric, a mix of desperation and longing. For a moment, Wanda moved with you, her body instinctively responding to the passion. But then she remembered she wasn’t supposed to like this, like you, and pulled away, her eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and defiance.

"You'd have to stop the world just to stop this feeling," you said, your voice low and intense. You searched her green eyes, hoping to see a flicker of the connection you once had, but she gave nothing. Her face was a mask, hiding whatever was going on inside.

You scoffed, frustration and hurt boiling over. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a $50 bill, slamming it down on the bar. "Well, good luck, babe." You patted her shoulder, the gesture more resigned than affectionate, before turning and making your way out of the bar.

As you walked away, the neon lights outside the bar flickered, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the wet pavement. You clenched your fists, trying to keep your emotions in check. Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You knew you couldn't let Wanda see your vulnerability, not now.

Behind you, Wanda watched you go, her own tears threatening to spill. She quickly wiped them away, her tough facade cracking for just a moment. She felt the weight of her own actions pressing down on her, but she couldn't bring herself to chase after you. The distance between you felt wider than ever, and the pain of it cut deep.

You stepped out into the cool night air, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady yourself. The city buzzed around you, indifferent to your heartache. You glanced back at the bar one last time, hoping to see her following you, but the door remained closed.

With a heavy heart, you started walking, each step taking you further away from the bar and from Wanda. The night felt endless, the stars above indifferent to the turmoil within you. You wondered if things would ever change, if the walls between you and Wanda would ever come down. But for now, all you could do was keep moving forward, hoping that someday, somehow, the love you felt for her would find its way back.

As you walked away from the bar, memories flickered through your mind like a film reel. The first time you met Wanda in Sokovia, the city in ruins around you. She had been scared and unsure, her powers raw and unrefined. You had seen something in her, a spark of potential, and had reached out to help her.

The days that followed were filled with moments that etched themselves into your heart. Bringing Wanda to the compound, seeing her eyes widen with wonder as she took in her new surroundings. The two of you training together, her powers growing stronger and more controlled under your guidance.

You remembered the quiet evenings watching sitcoms, Wanda's favorite way to unwind. Her laughter was infectious, and you found yourself falling for her more with each passing day. The kitchen became a shared sanctuary, where you'd cook together, teasing and tasting, creating more than just meals but memories.

There were the late-night make-out sessions, stolen moments of intimacy that spoke volumes of the unspoken bond between you. Each touch, each kiss, deepened the connection, making it hard to imagine life without her. You had been her first in so many ways—her first real friend, her first confidant, her first love.

Now, all of that seemed like a distant dream as you walked away from the bar. The warmth of those memories contrasted sharply with the cold reality of the present. You had tried to break through her defenses tonight, but she had shut you out, leaving you to grapple with the ache of loss.

The city lights blurred as tears filled your eyes, the weight of the past and present pressing down on you. You knew that things couldn't stay like this forever, but you also knew that it would take time for the wounds to heal.

As you turned the corner, you took one last look back at the bar. Wanda was still inside, her silhouette framed by the neon lights. You hoped that somewhere in her heart, she still felt the connection that had once brought you together. And maybe, just maybe, she would find her way back to you.

A sigh escaped your lips, knowing you needed to just leave this all behind.

“Good luck love…”

[n6ptunova]

i loved your chris bf hcs! could you please do one for matt? thank you and i hope you’re having a good day :)

boyfriend headcanons • matt sturniolo

a/n: thank you so much ily!! hope you enjoy thiss🫶

warnings: none

- you can’t convince me that matt wouldn’t be the type of bf who accidentally ignores you in public/groups of friends. he doesn’t mean to but he’s so awkward and doesn’t like pda much so when he tries to avoid it he avoids you altogether. it used to hurt your feelings but after talking to him he reassured you that he’s just a dumbass.

- he makes up for being distant in public when you guys are alone tho. he lovesss having you in his arms hugging his slutty waist, while he strokes your hair and kisses your head/cheeks occasionally. he’s def the big spoon most of the time.

- his love language is physical touch and acts of service, so he’ll often want to drive you to run errands together (grocery shopping, ikea visits, etc.) it makes him feel like you’re a married couple which kind of sums up your relationship with him.

- he’s also the designated bug killer, bob the builder ass bf. you got new furniture that needs to be built? he’s doing it no question. you broke something and need it fixed? he’s on it. he almost babies you honestly and he loves it but when you take it too far and act too spoiled he’ll be like alright wrap it up.

- he’s kind of moody sometimes for no reason like you’ll be making jokes or annoying him for fun and he’s just “not having it” when in reality he can’t get enough of your attention, he’ll pretend to be annoyed and keep rolling his eyes but he can’t wipe the goofy ass smile off his face.

- BABY FEVER!! every time he seems a cute baby out in public or on tiktok he turns into the biggest softy, “babe look oh my goddd they’re so cute i want one.” *hears the baby laughing* “nvm i want ten.”

- perks of dating someone with a car (ns to chris and nick! full shade actually) is you get to go on a lot of late night cruises with the top down, blasting your fav music, him using his free hand to switch between holding yours and placing it on your thigh. plus you get some privacy to….be risky! if ykwim

- matt loves when you take an interest in something he loves eg. pokemon, certain artists he listens to, cabin life, etc. he gets so excited and giddy and he’ll want to tell you everything he knows about these things. and he does the same for you but he gets embarrassed and defensive if you point it out so you just silently appreciate it.

- ^ you once caught him reading one of your favorite books simply because he wanted to talk to you about it and seeing you get all excited and passionate while talking about it.

- he’s definitely a soft launch type of guy. always posting pics where you just barely show. the back of your head, or your nails in the corner of the pic, your shoes etc. i can’t imagine him fully posting up with his gf on instagram or tiktok but maybe if it’s been a few years he’d do it for anniversaries and it’ll be like aesthetic ass pinterest vibes photos.

- matt would always be taking candid photos/videos of you and saves them in an album that’s full of just you. 90% of his screen time is his camera roll just bc he’s always looking and admiring the pics he took of you, he’s obsessed fr.

- after a while i feel like matt would start to show his silly/goofy side a lot more with you. he would so be the type to chase you around trying to tickle you- he just loves hearing your laugh. it usually ends with him pinning you down with one hand and tickling you with the other until you’re almost out of breath then he’ll stop and kiss you to make up for it.

- he’ll be more talkative with you than with his brothers sometimes since you don’t interrupt. he’s always rambling about whatever’s on his mind and apologies after like pookie you’re good talk more!!

- he’s a bit indecisive in general like where to eat, date ideas and stuff but he tries because he knows you like when he’s ‘assertive’. idk how to explain this but he acts like the stereotypical “man provides” but in a non toxic/non misogynistic way.

[mechaknight-98]

Winners and Losers (NSFW) FT Song Hayoung

Author's note: Partial Part 2 to Snow Day

I arrived home to see Hayoung smiling. She waved happily and said, "Hey Danzo, how was your day?"

"Pretty calm, just long," I replied, kicking off my shoes and setting my bag down.

Hayoung grinned and said, "Well, come here and hug me." I walked over and embraced her, feeling her warmth chase away my fatigue.

"So, how is the comeback prep going?" I asked, still holding her.

"It's great!" Hayoung exclaimed with enthusiasm, her eyes sparkling.

As I pat her head I say, "Oh that's fantastic. I look forward to seeing the final product of what you have been working on." Hayoung smiles brightly at me. Her energy was infectious, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Hey, why are you laughing?" she pouted, pushing out her bottom lip in an adorable way.

"Because you're endearing and I love you," I said, leaning in for another hug and kissing her forehead.

She smiled up at me, her eyes softening, before breaking the hug. "Okay, enough cuddling. It's time to play," she said confidently, a playful challenge in her voice.

"Oh, right. Let me grab my deck," I responded as I tried to mentally prepare to play magic.

I went to my bag and pulled out my Nadu Temur Prowess deck. Hayoung smiled as she went to grab her deck: Jeskai Prowess. We sat across from each other at the table, and she smiled brightly. I set up everything, and she mirrored my actions. I rolled out my Fromis_9 playmat, which always made Hayoung smile. She’d point to her face and say, "It's me," happily before unfurling hers.

I started my first turn with a Dragon's Rage Channeler off of a fetch land. Hayoung went first and started with Esper Sentinel off of a Hallowed Fountain. My next land was Shifting Woodland. I swung the DRC at Hayoung. She didn’t block, making me consider casting Mutagenic Growth and the Bolt I had in hand to maximize damage, but I decided to hold off. When it was her turn, she smiled.

“You are going to get it now, babe,” she said confidently before slamming down a Monastery Swiftspear. She played a cantrip to maximize damage after blocks, so I lost the DRC. She smiled before passing, clearly enjoying the upper hand.

I laughed and shook my head. “You’re getting better every time we play.”

The cards I saw would set up a sequence for me to win, but as I looked at them and then at Hayoung, I decided to ease off and played Ledger Shredder, then land and two spells before passing. She smiled and then played her favorite otter from Bloomburrow, named Bria. I smiled and said, "You know Bria reminds me of you."

Hayoung smiles, "Really?" she asks jubilant. shortly after Hayoung's eyes narrowed playfully, and she said, "Now you won't distract me."

"It's not a distraction," I replied as she built her storm turn. She swung at me for lethal, and I smiled, not minding the loss.

"Yes!" Hayoung exclaimed, having finally beaten me. She began a cute little dance to signify her win, making me smile. As I watched her, I silently appreciated this adorkable girl whom I had met in a music writing group. The memory of our first meeting flashed through my mind—how shy and serious she had seemed until we started talking about our favorite songs and bonded over our shared passion for music. As I sat there, I forgot that the cards in my hand were visible. As Hayoung danced, she looked in my area and noticed the cards. Her eyes went wide before she said,

"You had these in your hand?" Realizing my mistake, I quickly tried to cover them, but it was too late. Hayoung saw my hand and said, "Wait, these were in your hand?" She noticed the plethora of Mutagenic Growths and other protection/pump spells.

Hayoung's eyes narrowed at first, which was a bit scary, but then they softened. She slinked over to me, her voice deepening with a familiar husk.

“You know what? I think you let me win,” Hayoung said suspiciously.

I looked at her, feigning innocence, and asked, “Why would you think that?”

Hayoung's eyes narrowed as she tried to read my expression. “I don't know, but I do know how to get an answer out of you,” she declared, tickling my sides until I was laughing uncontrollably.

"Did you let me win?" she asked and in between laughs I remained steadfast.

"I have been kicking you but for weeks why would you think I would just let you win out of nowhere?"

Hayoung’s eyes narrow as she stops tickling me and she lowers herself to my crotch.

Confused I ask hesitant “Ugh, what are you doing?”

Hayoung smiled mischievously as she undid my zipper with her teeth, and fished my cock out, “Getting to the truth,” she said before taking me into her mouth. Her lips parted as she took me in before and an overwhelming amount of saliva covered my shaft. I moaned as we locked eyes. hers were intense. She smiled around my cock as she made two slow tortuous journeys along my shaft.

"Ah Fuck" I gasped, as she broke the chain before saying.

"Tell me what I want to know and I'll let you cum." she says seductively. Her gray hair was tied in two twin-tails that I reached out for but Hayoung swatted my hands away.

“Come on babe tell me the truth, and I’ll let you cum and ruin me,” she says firmly. I groan as she continues her slow tortuous blowjob. She knew all the tricks to have me leaking and begging her to cum. As she sucked I felt myself get close and when I was about to cum she stopped.

“Did you let me win?” she said with a shit-eating grin as she lightly lapped at my cock while staring at me. Her big gorgeous eyes were too much,

“Fuck Hayoung yes I let you win,” I said. Hayoung smiled as she dove back in.

“See that wasn't so hard,” she said, but at that point, it was too late. I picked Hayoung up and impaled her on my cock after yanking her sweatpants down. She moaned as I thrust into her while she was in the full Nelson position.

“Fuck Danzo Deeper,” she moaned as I continued to spear her. My cock was embedded in her tight pussy as I thrust in and out. Using my off hand I slid under her shirt before groping her right breast. Despite her modest dress and temperament, Hayoung's body was built for sin. As I massage her breast and continue fucking her I feel her pussy convulse before she screamed “Ah Danzo I'm Cumming,” her orgasms as always were intense. Her pussy coiled itself around my snake like a good snake. As I felt the intensity I came too. I heard Hayoung moan as I set her down. When we finished cumming she smiled before saying,” I guess we're both winners and losers tonight,”

[rustboxstarr]

Hey! I was reading one of your stories and it was so good I immediately started following you <3

Anyways could you write a story about reader being flat (like no ass and skinny legs) and shes being insecure about it. So while Eddie and reader are undressing for sex she looks in the mirror to her body and Eddie asks what’s wrong and she tells? I kinda can relate to this so I would love a story like this 🫶🏻

You can change it a little bit ofcourse! Already thank you very much!!

❤️You're perfect.❤️

Summary: Alcohol is always set to cloud your mind, but some things will sober your right up. Especially when you suddenly realize you're actually going to have to show your biggest insecurity to your boyfriend.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Flat!Reader

Warnings: Smut, P in V, fingering (f receiving), cream pie (Eddie cums a lot) - hints at Eddie being insecure about his, squirting, insecurity, slight angst, fluff. Drunk sex! If that makes you uncomfortable DO NOT READ, consent is neither mentioned or implied in the writing but it IS consensual because I say so and I wrote it so *sticks out tongue* also I have never understood why people think its ok to write about high sex but not drunk sex? Like can someone please explain?

Wordcount: 4.1 k

A/N: Thank you for the request babes, I hope you like it ❤️

Also I highly reccomend listening to Destroy Boys while reading this, becuase I was and it was the closest vibe to drunk sex I could find, like why is there no good drunk sex music? Does anyone have any recommendations? because I'm sick of seeing Chase Atlantic everywhere.

Feel free to request, I love writing requests! ❤️

Love yas!

Check out my other works!

Your whole head vibrates with an alcohol induced haze, spinning you around and losing your touch with reality and all things surrounding you, except for one thing. Broad palms are on you the second you burst through the door of the Harrington basement, plush lips forcing against your own in passionate kisses. The door slams shut behind you as Eddie’s hands push your hoodie off your shoulders, he revels in the sound of your sugary sweet giggle as he stumbles over his own feet, desperately trying to kick his sneakers off without ever letting his hands leave your body. 

A gasp whisps its way into the air as Eddie forces you against the door, the smirk painted across his face grazes your lips and it sends bolts of lightning down your spine, the soft sparkle in his eye that reflects the dim lighting of the small space as he gazes softly in your eyes prompting goosebumps to freckle your skin before his lips are on yours again. Your hands force his jacket down his arms and he chuckles as he tries to wriggle himself free of the leather. 

His hand finds your cheek to pull you towards him again while the other plants a firm grasp on your hip, chipped nail polish scratches down his back as your arms circle him. 

It’s all a mix of hot breaths and gasps as hands roam skin and tongues dance around each other, a mix of beer and vodka muddles on your tastebuds to accompany the fresh cigarette smoke that fills your senses when you breathe him in. All you can focus on is the way his body feels against yours, how his hands grip at your hips while yours rake through his curls. 

But you quickly pull one away when you feel his grip snake around your waist, before he has a chance to plant a firm grip on your ass your fingers lace with his, guiding him up to palm at your chest in a frenzy. 

You manage a second of relief at his compliance before both of his hands travel down your body, you're just about to slap them away before they have a chance to travel further south when you feel yourself being lifted into the air. You're too distracted by his lips finding yours again to dwell on the situation or even realise what you're about to get yourself into as your back smacks against the bathroom door before it swings open. 

You land on the bathroom counter with a heavy thud, heavy breath escaping both of your mouths as they circle around your heads, drifting above you like the smoke in cartoons. His lips are on yours again, kissing with a furious and drunk passion as you feel callused fingers search for the hem of your t-shirt. There is not a single warning bell that goes off in your head, the bellkeep has gone to sleep with the amount of vodka mixers, shitty beers and tequila shots you downed just a mere minute ago upstairs with the rest of the shitfaced partygoers. Your own fingers find the hem of your shirt and you pull it up over your head, throwing it behind him to be found later. Those same callused fingers smooth over your cheeks as he cups your face and brings you in close, attaching his lips to yours after gazing at you with an expression that can only be described as love. 

Your own hands wander to his shirt and he rips away instantly, letting you pull the black fabric off of him and discarding Ozzy’s face on the floor with your own t-shirt. Your hands explore his body, dragging your fingers up the expanse of his torso, from the soft patch of curls that form his happy trail, past the soft pudge of his stomach, to his shapely pecs and finally gliding over his shoulders, grasping onto them and pulling him back in. You only manage to revel in the sensation of his lips hard against yours for a second before they’re pulling away, the thick pad of his thumb forces your chin up as he starts trailing kisses down your neck, soft breaths echo around the practically dark room, save for the sliver of light the frosted glass window lets through. 

His hands find your hips, gripping onto them as if to ground himself before they travel to the cups of your bra, palming desperately at your tits while a soft groans slips past his lips. “You don’t know how many times I’ve pictured these beauties, please babe, you- you gotta let me see them” there's a soft slur to his words but you're too distracted by the feeling of his hands against your body to care that neither of you are truly in a fit state to be doing any of this. 

“Well how can I resist when you're asking so nicely” you chuckle, watching the dark pool of desperation that swims about in his irises. Within seconds his hands are at your back, undoing the clasp to the black fabric that hugs your frame and you're too caught up in this moment, being here with Eddie, to even let a shred of insecurity bubble up at the fact that he’s about to see your boobs, who are nowhere near up to the standard of small perky boobs. The thought of him being grossed out by how they sag from the weight doesn't even have a chance to cross your mind before a loud groan rumbles from the depth of his chest and his hands are back, gripping, palming and squeezing at anything he can get his hands on. “Fuck, ‘s- fuckin’ perfect” his words only bounce around in your head in one big jumble as you feel the warmth of his tongue swipe over one of your nipples. You feel as the skin tightens around the nub and that ticklish sensation of your nipples being erect as his lips wrap around it, skilled fingers swiping delicately over your other nipple, teasing you with the faintness of his touch. A strangled moan bounces around the room as his lips suction around you, tickling you in the strangest, weirdest, best way. No one had ever done this, and it was safe to say it felt super weird… but also earth shatteringly good and especially when the tingling feeling between your thighs -that had sat comfortable since you and Eddie has started whispering slurred words by each others ears upstairs- only grew in strength.

Your fingers tread through his curls as he moves on to your other side, treating your other nipple with the same insane pleasure as he had done before. Soon enough his kisses start trailing down, kissing between your tits, slowly and steadily moving down down down, and over your stomach (that tickles too, but not in the same way). He only grins up at you at the sound of your giggle. There are so many insecurities on display that, in the right headspace, would have you heaving with anxiety, but none of them manage to surface to the front of your mind as your drunk haze can only fixate on Eddie, Eddie Eddie Eddie. As he kisses down your head falls back against the wall, lolling on your shoulders to find the other end of the L shaped counter, you see yourself in the mirror and smile drunkenly at the picture it presents. Eddie kissing down your stomach, hands trailing up and down your torso as lust filled eyes watch your face. 

Insecurity gnaws at you however, as your eyes drift to his torsos slotted between your thighs. 

The alcohol induced illusion shatters, however, the second his nimble fingers find your belt buckle, suddenly you pull yourself up straight, pulling your waist away from him. The fog has cleared and you have sobered up within the matter of a millisecond and you stare with wide, fearful eyes at the mop of brown hair that suddenly moves. He stands up again from his sinking position to the floor and finds your eyes with his own worried ones. “What’s- what’s wrong?” It seems his own fog has lifted as he stares down at you, one hand coming to caress your cheek while the other smooths up and down your arm. 

Your mouth opens, and then it closes. You find yourself at a loss for words as you stare up at him, dim moonlight shining around him, blurring everything else in the room, dark, misty eyes, glazed over with pure, unfiltered concern, soft pink lips tugged into a small pout, milky white skin glowing below clusters of freckles that travel from his face and down the lengths of his arms, each one further from the other. God he’s perfect. Why would you ever want to ruin this moment? 

“Nothing” you breathe a strained chuckle, “Just uh, backs, hurting” you slink your hand between yourself and the wall and make a show of stretching out your back. “Oh” he chuckles, the soft breath plays like music in your ears, as he scans the room, “Here” he stretches over you and reveals two folded up towels, his smile is happy and hopeful as he waits for you to lean forward so he can place them behind your back. “Thanks” you whisper as he slides back into place between your thighs, “Better?” his eyes, god those eyes, wide, baby cow eyes, glinting under the moonlight above the sweet smile pulling at his lips. “Yeah, yeah” you breathe, you can’t take those eyes, they confront you, they force you to curl under the depth of them, waiting for you to tell the truth because they know you’re lying. You can’t take it, so, you quickly pull him in by his neck, sinking your lips into his, kissing him desperately, willing the sight of his eyes out of your mind. 

Your thighs glide against the counter, sliding down onto the floor and forcing Eddie against the other end of the counter, he yelps in surprise at the quick action but within no time matches your energy, hands grasping on to your hips again. Your whole body cringes as his hands slide down your back to grab a handful of your ass, but you power through, and feel shocked as you focus on those delicious groans escaping his throat, groans that were prompted by his hands on your ass. His hands squeeze firmly and he pulls you towards him, pressing below your stomach is what really sets off the fire between your legs. His hard cock forces against your mound and you feel your thighs squeeze together unprompted at the action, squeezing tight at the obnoxious groan that vibrates in your ears. 

Your lips move at a furious pace together as both of your hips begin dancing in sync, grinding against each other with no shame. Your hands grip and scratch at any skin you can find, his biceps, his shoulder, his chest, back, shoulder blades, face, anything. You can feel the drunken haze begin to fog your mind again as you lose yourself with him, his own must be too as he sways slightly while he broadens his stance, allowing you to press yourself closer to him. 

His hands find your hips again and he twirls you around, quick to pull you back in again to force your ass against his throbbing cock, his lips kiss down your neck, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels your hands pull at his curls. He breathes a ragged “Fuck” as his hips begin to roll against your own, holding on tighter as he hears your breaths grow louder. “Shit, need to be inside you so bad, you don't even wanna’ know” he whispers against your shoulder, you chuckle breathily while your own lips find his neck, kissing at anything you can reach. Squeezing your eyes shut tight as you feel his hands find your belt buckle again, but this time you don’t stop him, there's an indescribable urge to fight back, to prove yourself. To whom? You have no idea, but you know you're not stopping now, not when his body feels so warm and inviting behind yours, not when his hands have gripped onto your body the way they have, not when his kisses have felt so intoxicating. 

He undoes the buckle, and then the belt, and then finally the zipper. 

You brace yourself for the impact. 

But nothing comes, his fingers snake their way past the open zipper of your baggy jeans and slip under the hem of your panties. You release a sigh of relief thats replaced by a soft moan when you feel warm fingers make their way between your folds, his own breath is heavy and hot against your skin as his eyes once again roll to the back of your head “Fuck, you’re so wet” his teeth graze the soft skin of your shoulder as you look down to find his hand moving beneath the denim. His fingers glide down to your hole, collecting your slick before he begins an agonisingly slow tackle of your clit. He grins wildly at the whimper that rings in his ears while you twitch slightly in front of him. 

The feeling of his soft lips trailing kisses up and down your neck and shoulder accompanied by the exciting press of his throbbing cock against you and the wickedly cruel slow circles on your clit have your breath speeding up, loud pants slowly transitioning into breathy moans that has Eddie grinding against you in a furious pace. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and it lolls on your neck, splaying your hair over Eddie's shoulder as his movements speed up. While your hands grip desperately at the counter, Eddie's free one finds your tit, palming at it in tune with every deep groan that vibrates through his chest. His hips move with yours as you grind down on his fingers and an obnoxiously loud moan echoes throughout the small bathroom -sure to travel up to unsuspecting ears upstairs- at the harsh press and increased pace of his digits against you. 

A string of curses bounce around the walls as you feel the tingling between your thighs begin to tighten into a coil, everything is simply euphoric. The dull drum of the music upstairs, travelling through the floor to the almost completely dark bathroom, the delicious sound of Eddie's groans and pants mixing with your own, his warm body against yours, encircling you, the sensation of his fingertip against your clit, his lips grazing your skin, his fingers now tweaking your nipple has you writhing against him. “Fuck, m’gonna- ‘bout to- shit- mother fucker” a deafening moan rings in his ears as your whole body stiffens with the snap of the coil. 

His kisses never cease as he waits out your orgasm and when you eventually come down from your high his lips find your cheek. “Good?” you can hear he’s out of breath as whispers against your cheek. He only chuckles at your tired nod and slowly slips his hand out of your pants, after wiping it off awkwardly on his own jeans it joins across from his other hand. Broad palms rest on your hips as he kneads the skin softly but when his lips manage to find yours you feel yourself snapping out of your tired post orgasmic state. You quickly turn in his grasp, lips forcing against his furiously, desperate to feel more of him. God if that's what he could do with his fingers you were dying to see what else he could do. 

Within seconds he matches your energy, groaning as your tongues dance furiously. He manages to find your hips again and unsteadily walks you to the other side of the counter with your back to it. Your mind is too far gone to set off any warning bells as his hands rip the denim down your hips, past your thighs and letting them fall to the floor along with the delicate black fabric that previously would have protected your last bit of modesty. His hands grip your hips and he forces you up on the counter completely bare. The only thing you can feel at the moment is complete, utter desperation. Your fingers fiddle with his belt as his lips find yours again, when a bratty whine leaves your throat his own hands replace yours, hastily undoing his jeans and pulling them down his legs. 

You manage to get a whole second to awe at the sheer size of him while he steps out of the fabric before a hand is wrapping around your ankle, forcing you to place your foot on the counter. The only break your lips get from each other is when a loud gasp breaks the seal at the sensation of his fat mushroom tip forcing past your entrance. A wide grin paints his features as he sheathes inside your cunt. Eddie knew this wasn't your first time but he still wanted to give you a second to adjust before he began pounding into you. His hands grasp onto your thighs and manoeuvre your legs to wrap around him. With each thrust your moans grew louder but neither of you had a care in the world that there were other people around. 

His hands never left your thighs, as he began setting a steady pace of harsh thrusts his hands smoothed up and down your thighs, gripping occasionally as a raspy voice whispered “Fuck I love your thighs” suddenly your moans died down and all that could be heard was heavy breathing as your mind managed to focus on something other than the drag of his cock against your walls. “What?” your hoarse voice whispered “I fuckin’ love your thighs” his eyes didn’t meet yours, instead they were trained on the back of his head, half hidden behind his eyelids. “Love your ass, your tits, hips, face, stomach, arms, hands fuckin’ all of it, you’re so fuckin’ perfect” every word was a mix of pants between each harsh thrust into you. “You do?” 

He managed to find your gaze as his hips slowed down “‘Course I do, I’d be a fuckin’ idiot not to” a concered expression found its way onto his features as he stared down at you. Your hands slid from his shoulder blades to his hips as they began to slow further until he was simply deeply seated inside you. “I- I was kind of nervous, cuz ya’ know…” you broke off shyly with a shrug. “Cuz what?” he frowned softly, “You know” you nodded towards your lower body, “No I don’t know” his frown etched deeper as his hands began soothing up and down your thighs again, the drunken haze seemed to have evaporated for the both of you, leaving behind a trace of distortion. “Jesus you really gonna’ make me say it?” you groaned, “Eh yes, I have no idea what you’re talking about” 

“Because I’m flat and shit, like I’ve seen your ex dude, she has a literal hourglass shape, thick thighs, fat ass all that stuff guys like” you couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, instead your eyes found interest in the movement of his hand. “So? Everyones different, I’m not dating you for your body, that’s just a major plus, like have you seen you? You’re fucking perfect” his hand moved to softly manoeuver your face to look you in the eye. “You really think so?” you whispered, the moonlight shone in your eyes as you looked up at him, “Are you crazy? You’re perfect.” 

Words were lost on you, all you could do was stretch up to place a soft kiss to his lips. One kiss turned to two and two turned to three, before you knew it your hands were gripping at his shoulder blades and your ankles were locking behind his back, pulling him closer as his tongue began to swipe against yours. Loud moans and groans muddled with offensive curses as his hips began thrusting at an incomprehensible speed. Hoarse fucks and shits echoed in your head as you felt the head of his cock nudge your cervix repeatedly and your nails clawed at his back. 

This time when your head lolled on your shoulders to find the mirror all the picture looking back at you did was set hot flames inside the pit of your stomach.

Nothing could pull you out of this moment, not even the sound of bottles and soap dishes clashing into the floor as you sought out something to grip onto. “Fuck, yeah lean back” Eddie muttered as your hands found their place at the edge of the counter. The view of your tits bouncing up and down only had his hips gaining speed as he began pistoning in and out of you. “Fuck, fuck. Fucking perfect” 

“Shit, don’t stop, feels so fucking good, don’t stop” your voice was high and squeaky as you moaned your words. “Not fuckin’ stopping for anything baby holy shit” While one hand gripped your hip the other grasped desperately onto your tit, “Mother fucker, just watching you would make me fucking cum” he groaned as your mouth dropped and your eyes rolled as far back as they physically could. “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum!” your shriek was like music to his ears, “Fuck me too, shit gonna’ cum so hard” the awkward humiliation hidden beneath his whispered words were lost on you as you felt that same coil explode. 

High pitched moans and deep groans didn’t even register in your head as the view of the bathroom was replaced with a blinding white and a deaf ringing accompanied it. 

After what felt like forever you managed to open your eyes to find a mop of brown hair splayed across your chest as its accompanying body heaved up and down. Your fingers laced through his curls prompting him to stand up, his chest expanded with every deep breath he tried to take to find himself again and you only watched in amusement. “Funny, sex sobers you up” you chuckled breathlessly, earning a snort from the man across from you. “Hah, uuhh yeah you’re gonna need like a towel or something” he cringed as he looked down at your joined bodies, his thick creamy substance already beginning to drip down between your asscheeks. Your hand searched blindly for the towel next to you and you held it up to him with a goofy grin. 

“Huh, fuck ok” he took a deep breath before his digits wrapped around the base of his cock. Moving ever so slowly he began pulling out of you. It seemed however that the coil hadn’t exactly exploded, part of it was still lying deep within you and you could feel it start to stretch with each millimetre that moved inside you. A loud whine sang from your chest as you felt him slowly pull out and suddenly the milky liquid buried deep inside you followed, you don’t know what prompted you to do it but suddenly the pad of your finger was circling your clit harshly as the hefty amount of cum Eddie had left behind began to trickle out of you. 

He watched with wide eyes as you rubbed hard circles against the small nub, “Shit shit shit!” you shrieked as you felt that coil finally detonate. Hot clear liquid began to flood, drenching Eddie who stood mesmerised in front of you and it didn't stop until every last drop of Eddie's cum had pooled onto the floor. “Shit” you breathed heavily as you leaned forward, your head thudding against Eddie's chest. “Holy shit” he scoffed in amazement, you straightened up to see his face “That was like the hottest thing I’ve ever seen” his eyes were bulging out of his skull “We’re definitely getting you to do that again” all you could do was snort at his excited face before you slid off the counter onto your wobbly legs.  Bending down to retrieve your underwear from the floor you feel a harsh smack to your ass and you stand up promptly to face him but before you can even get a word out his lips are on yours and his hands are gripping at the globes of your ass as he’s backing you against the counter again. “You can forget going upstairs, we’re staying down here all night.”

[skiiyoomin]

hii bestiiee, i was the one asking if you do songfics a few weeks (?) back (idk why i clicked anon lol)

so my idea is friends by chase atlantic, denki x reader 👀

what (and if) you want to make out of this is up to you, would be cool if this inspires you 🫶

x sky

⤑Back to navigation

Cont: Denki x reader, toxic relationships, swearing, gn!reader, mentions of drugs and alcohol.

a/n this is messyyy, but bare with me i tried

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

ღFriends

Girl, tell me what you're doing on the other side And so, just tell me what you're doing with that other guy 'Cause I ain't got patience to slow down the pace All your girlfriends are wasted They need it, they chase it Face it, you want it, you crave it Believe when I say that you'll know once you taste it

Denki has felt confusion many many times in his life. Yet, they were all dimmed in comparison to the confusion he feels now. His eyes are glued on you. On your body as it sways to the beat of the music. The way your dress hugs all your curves just right. On the flashing lights of the party shining down on your skin. Had it been any other moment, he would´ve been taken by your beauty. But now he only feels a sourness envelop his tongue when his eyes trail over to the man glued to your side.

He hates it. Hates the seething jealousy he feels when your lips attach to his own. He had kissed your lips too. He´s sure he´s a far better kisser than that wannabe you´re making out with right now. He feels nauseous. Either from the overwhelming stench of drugs and alcohol, or from the sight of you in someone elses arms.

In a way, he feels a sense of betrayal too, even if he´s well aware he has no right to. You never labeled whatever you are. But is it really hard to miss the obvious tension between you? Everyone could see the fleeting glances, the lingering touches, the suave words that were borderline flirtatious. He had felt the passion you had kissed him with. Friends don´t kiss like you do. Right? He was convinced there was something more. So then, why are you kissing someone who isn´t him?

All of your friends have been here for too long They must be waiting for you to move on Girl, I'm not with it, I'm way too far gone I'm not ready, eyes heavy now Heart on your sleeve like you've never been loved Running in circles, now look what you've done Wish you'd let me stay, I'm ready now

Your friends aren´t any better. They whisper things into your brain, so much so that you believe them. He isn´t right for you. You deserve better. Yet you´re the one that always ran in circles, repeating the same stories over and over. You´d run to him, and in those moments, he´d feel the happiest because he was with you. Because you kissed him and looked at him like he´s your world.

Then you´d run away again. And as much as he wanted to pretend like it doesn´t hurt him, it does. He hates seeing you go around, sleeping with guy after guy. No matter how many times he tried to reason with you, to talk it out, it always led to some sort of pointless argument. He should leave, he knows he should, but he can´t. You´re a drug he can´t get enough of. Because, shit, he´s so hung up on you. He´s wrapped around your finger and you don´t even seem to realize. Or care.

Just give me some time and space to realize That you, were busy lying, sleeping 'round with other guys And what the hell were we? Tell me we weren't just friends This doesn't make much sense, no But I'm not hurt, I'm tense 'Cause I'll be fine without you, babe

Once again, he feels that profuse sense of confusion. That line between friends and lovers was crossed long ago. Maybe it never existed. Yet you keep giving him mixed feelings. You kiss him, but you kiss other guys. So what the hell are you if not friends? He doesn´t know. He does know one thing however, he needs to clear the air. He stands up from the couch and heads over to you, and despite his nerves, he knows he has to do this, because at the end of the day, none of you are benefitting from whatever this is.

[kaiso-woo]

Heartbeat

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

-> Masterlist

PART 6 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader - for this fic, I highly recommend reading at least PART 1 (Just Stay.) and 5 (The Date of All Dates), as there's flashbacks included and references made to these parts.

WC: 10.3k (long fic no. 2) | Synopsis: You break up with Chris :| Does he chase after you? Yes. Yes of course he does because it would be boring if he doesn't. There's also a fight, naturally.

Notes: ANGST, Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Swearing, Idol!Chan, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Angry!Chan, Heartbroken!Chan, EmotionalWreck!Chan HAH, Blood, Suic!de (Strong Descriptions), Swearing, Pet Names (Jagiya, Jagi, Baby, Babe, Love etc.)

Here for a reading marathon? Head right back to the start!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

Overall ‘Stay Series’ Synopsis: Bang Chan experiences the suic!des of Stays, so when you lot choose to die, he dies right along with you. Reader is the “antidote” to this condition - MAJOR PART OF THIS FIC

PART 6

!!Casual reminder this is entirely fictitious - Chris/Christopher in my work does not represent the actual Bang Chan - this is purely my imagination and nothing more - this goes for all other SKZ-Members too!!

Listen to this after if you want, it was the inspiration for half the fic hehe - I'll embed it at the bottom as well.

--

Notice Regarding Bang Chan’s Personal Life

Hello, this is JYPE.

Recently, there has been a great deal of speculation and discussion surrounding Bang Chan's long-distance relationship. We understand that our fans are concerned about his well-being and how this relationship may affect his commitments as an idol. We want to assure you that our highest priority is the well-being and professional responsibilities of our artists, including Bang Chan.

Due to the outlash of feedback received from the recently leaked photos of him with his significant other, he has been restricted from visiting his partner for the time being. We understand that this situation may raise questions and concerns among fans, and we appreciate your continued support and understanding.

We want to make it clear that Bang Chan's personal life, including his relationship, is his private matter. However, we believe in being transparent with our fans to address any concerns. We want to emphasise that this romantic relationship will not affect Bang Chan's performance, schedule, or duties as an idol. He remains fully committed to his career, his passion for music and his responsibilities as a member of Stray Kids remain unwavering.

JYP Entertainment will continue to provide Bang Chan with the necessary support and guidance to ensure that he can balance his personal life and professional obligations. We believe in nurturing a healthy work-life balance for our artists to ensure their well-being and success in their careers.

We kindly ask for your understanding and support during this time. Please continue to support Bang Chan and Stray Kids as they work hard to bring you great music and performances.

Thank you.

--

That was approximately four months ago. Chris had informed you of the situation as soon as he found out, and when you read the official notice, you couldn’t help but scowl at how supportive they were making themselves seem. What they were really hoping was that the separation would cause a shift in your relationship, and you’d break up. Not that it mattered, because that is exactly what was going to happen, what you had been planning from the beginning.

--

Chris flops into his studio chair, raking a hand through his hair in his exhaustion. It’s taking a toll on his health if he’s being honest. It’s paining him that he can’t call you as frequently as he’d like, can’t see you whenever he pleased, can’t hug you like you’re his teddy bear. He wondered how you were doing constantly; in the middle of dance rehearsals, working in his studio, posing for the camera, grinning in interviews. 

He sighs and tugs his phone out of his pocket, opening up his camera roll and scrolling through his photos with you. His camera roll is half Stray Kids, half you. Eating ice cream, in the car, sitting on park benches together, at the beach, snuggled together in your apartment. His mind immediately relaxes as he scrolls through them all, reliving each memory he has with you. The heat from him officially announcing your relationship still hasn’t died down, and there are trucks with LED signs still rolling up frequently to the front of JYP. (A/N: Inspired by the uproar from losing Chan's Room irl obviously, in this world however, it still exists)

He checks the time on his wristwatch, and mentally calculates whether you’d be sleeping or not. He’s supposed to do Chan’s Room, but he wants to see you too. After a moment of contemplation, he seeks out your contact and hits the face time button. You answer after a second, immediately propping your phone up on the kitchen counter so you can move around.

“Hey, you okay?” you smile at him through the camera, and Chris grins back, admiring your adorably unkempt state: messy hair, PJs, bare face. He props you up on his computer monitor and leans back into his chair. “Yeah ha. I just wanted to see you,” he shrugs, and you shake your head at him in amusement, “I thought you’d be asleep.”

You sigh and drag your chopping board into the camera, waving your knife around dramatically, “I’m kind of hungry.” “Are you seriously cooking a whole ass meal at… 3am?” Chris laughs, dragging his chair closer to watch as you chop up vegetables and toss them into a pot.

“I was craving soup, and then I remembered I could satisfy my own cravings if I actually tried. Here, want a carrot?” you ask, picking up a slice and shoving it towards the camera. Chris giggles and opens his mouth. You blink in surprise when he grabs a carrot stick from off camera and munches on it, “Thanks for the carrot.”

“Who knew we were that in sync,” you laugh, shoving your carrot into your mouth and chewing happily. “Stay with me?” he asks, finishing off his carrot as you go back to your cooking, “I’m going to do Chan’s Room now, but can you stay on call?” “Sure.”

--

You had been stalling your decision for months now. It’s been half a year, and Chris still hasn’t been able to return to your side. To top this off, your trash can is ridiculously full of letters you haven’t even opened. In the beginning you would hesitantly tear open the mail, but the amount of hate and death threats you were receiving never seemed to stop, so Chris eventually ordered you to just stop reading them.

You figured some people had recognised you thanks to the Skz-Code episode. Although you weren't part of the episode itself, people picked up on you as the owner of the Café when they visited. This knowledge was slightly scary, but... you'd manage.

Sometimes, when your mood wasn’t the best, you would pluck a letter out at random. The words within it only confirmed your reason for ever thinking of breaking up with him. Your socials and emails were swamped with them too.

Chris couldn’t go live without people asking him about you, both in a positive or negative way. Stray Kids’ couldn’t go anywhere or do anything without someone asking about how the relationship was panning it out, and you were tired of hearing Chris calmly explain exactly what the official notice from JYP had stated. You could tell he was sick of it too. As time wore on, you noticed more and more in Chris’ demeanour, in Skz-Talker, award shows, back-stage footage, he had grown reserved, silent.

He was captured spending time on his phone often, in an irritable mood more frequently, and the Stray Kids members often gave you updates on his moods, behind his back. He really only seemed happy when he was talking with you, or messaging you. And that… as an idol? No that’s not allowed. You frown at the image Jisung had just sent you: a picture of Chris sitting on a bench up against the wall of the dance room, staring off into space, his posture deflated.

(A/N: When the dialogue is in script format, it's meant to represent text messages)

Jisung: “He feels different”

You: “I’ve noticed”

Jisung: “he really misses you”

You: “I know Jisung” You: “I miss him too”

Jisung: “JYP is mean”

You: “Chris just needs to snap out of it” You: “He’s an idol first and foremost”

Jisung: “I think he just wants to be yours” Jisung: “First and foremost”

You: “Yeah but he can’t just give up on his life like this” You: “not for me, not for anyone” You: “he worked too hard for this” You: “suffered too much”

Jisung: “this is the worst he’s ever suffered”

You: “no it’s not”

Jisung; “I think it is”

You: “Jisung, tell him I said he needs to remember who he is”

Jisung: “he said he knows who he is”

You: “who is he?”

Jisung: “I’m not going to tell you what he said”

You: “why?”

Jisung: “You’ll just get mad”

You: “…”

Jisung: “I think he’d give up everything for you” Jisung: “JYP spoke with him again today” Jisung: “I think that’s why his mood has worsened”

You: “… Me or Skz???” You: “Ji?”

--

You sigh and rub your temples, trying to ease the migraine that’s forming. Jisung’s left you on read, and you know exactly what that means. This is it. The tears that you’ve been holding back ever since you first considered it start to fall. The tears that you’ve buried deep down into your soul flood out. They’ve been hiding there, threatening to return, ever since he bought you those skittles. 

Your sobs rack through you, chest heaving, as your bottled-up emotions explode out of you in waves. You’re laughing through your tears now; sobbing, quietly screaming, laughing, all at once. You didn’t cry as you packed up your suitcase, didn’t cry as Ashley hugged you tightly, before she signed the official transfer papers. You never cried while you were on call with Chris, or as you read his sweet messages in the morning. Never cried at how miserable he looked on screen, never cried as you packed up your decorations and belongings. Never cried as you bid your official farewell to your regulars, and hosted Ashley’s take over celebration.

And now you were crying, and oh how it hurt. 

Ashley peeks her head around the bedroom door. She had recently moved into your apartment, preparing for your departure. Ashley was the owner of Café Studio now. She would live in your apartment, and she would take care of the business. You reached for her desperately, needing someone, anyone to support you. She walks over and pulls you into a tight embrace. You curl up against her, burying yourself into her neck, sobbing wholeheartedly.

“Are you sure… this is the right thing to do…?” she quietly asks, patting your back. You bitterly laugh and wipe away your tears, trying to still your erratic breathing. She’d asked you the same question countlessly over the past few months, but you were stubborn in your decision.

Chris’ declining attitude and personality change was only confirmation that you needed to get out of his life, so that he could return to being the wonderful idol that he was before he met you. You’d go home, back to Australia (A/N: Australia because the irony for Chris) and take a few months to reset with your family. You’d already applied for a course at university, finally pursuing the path your parents had initially wanted you to take. You had really wanted to try the Café first though, wanted to make your dream a reality. Things would work out okay. You sniffle and pull away from Ashley, who’s expression is filled with nothing but pity. It was time for you to disappear. 

Most of your belongings had already been shipped back home, and your parents had been keeping up to date with your relationship via the internet. You had eventually informed them of your relationship with Chris, worried that they would first find out via the spam of the internet. Tears almost spill again when you realise you’ve never really spoken to Chris about your family, never had the opportunity to introduce him to them. All you’ve ever told him is that you have two younger brothers. 

You disappear into the office, leaving Ashley sitting by herself on the couch, and open up your laptop, immediately booking the first flight you see over to Perth. It leaves in… 2 hours. 

--

Are you ready, reader? Yeah sorry, Kaiwoo here to ruin your lovely reading experience to speed up things. I love writing don’t get me wrong, but I can be a lazy ass sometimes, so I’m going to give the following events to you straight.

You try to call him, a couple of days after you’ve returned home, having finally worked up the courage to explain what you’ve done. You’re a coward, really, fleeing the country before even talking to him about it. 

In all honesty, he’s probably already picked up on your absence. You haven’t actively messaged him or called him yourself over the past couple of days, only responding to his messages and answering his calls for brief conversations. He probably knows what’s up.

I lied. He doesn’t. He’s been as busy as ever, and he’s been pushing himself harder lately, trying to distract himself from you. JYP did speak to him, but it wasn’t anything to do with an ultimatum. JYP had spoken to him about his declining performance, told him to get his shit together – and he fell into an existential crisis for a little while.

Jisung left you on read because he assumed Chris was given an ultimatum. So all in all, this just comes down to communication errors. Communicating long distance is always hard though. He hasn’t noticed that your efforts into communicating with him have lessened. Which is exactly why, what you’ve done to him… will end him. 

“You can end me whenever you want love. Just as long as it’s you doing it.” You pinch him lightly with an amused laugh, “You’re such a cheesy ass.” “Only for you~” he laughs, the vibrations from his throat rippling through you.

“I… could beat the shit out of you…” you murmur, and Chris allows himself a smile. He bends down and kisses you softly, his heart aching with all the words he wishes he could say, all the love he wishes he could give. “You absolutely could… and the insane thing is… I would let you…” he softly whispers, then leaves your side to turn off the lights around the apartment.

Hm. That panned out well, don’t you think?

--

Chris bows in thanks to the other dancers in the room, wiping the sweat off his forehead and throwing his jacket over his shoulder. “Thank you guys, great work today everyone,” he smiles, patting those closest on the back with confidence. The rest of Stray Kids are finishing up their thanks as well, and are gathering their belongings, having finally finished another exhausting dance practice session. The room empties of other dancers, leaving just Chris and his Kids’ alone.

Minho and Jisung are talking quietly with one another, Hyunjin still trying to perfect a difficult dance move. Changbin gulping down a whole bottle of water, Felix sprawled out in a star on the floor. Seungmin and Jeongin are sitting crossed legged by the wall, staring at everyone in a tired and dazed state, fluffy hair sticking out everywhere.

“Anyone hungry for chicken?” Changbin asks, addressing the group as a whole. There a few murmurs of assent, and Minho states that he’ll order some. They begin to chatter about what to order, drinks included.

Chris is staring at his phone, smiling at the notifications from you, unaware of the conversation around him. There’s two missed calls and one voice message. You’ve never left him a voice message before. Excited to hear what was so urgent that you had to leave a voice message, he turns his volume up so he can hear you over the noise of the Kids’ and activates his message bank.

[You have one new message]

He places his phone on top of the mini fridge and grabs a bottle of water, taking a generous gulp as he waits for the audio to play.

[Let’s…] 

He slowly lowers the bottle at the tone of your voice, the hesitancy.

[break up.]

His body stiffens and his eyes widen, his heart skipping a beat.

[I’ve been thinking about it for a while.]

Chris blinks and his mouth parts in surprise, his breathing starting to intensify.

[Let’s break up.]

By now, the Kids’ have fallen silent, all of them watching Chris. All of them grasping the situation. All of their hearts cracking at the sight of their frozen leader. Chris is blinking rapidly, tears welling in the corner of his eyes. This can’t be happening.

[It’s not that you’ve done anything wrong.] [It’s not that our love lacks anything either.]

“No-” Chris murmurs, his hand shaking around the bottle he’s still holding.

[It’s just that… in some cases… love can only continue to a certain point.]

Chris’ other hand drifts to cover his mouth, shaking, a fragile gasp escaping his lips. The members drift over to him, surrounding him in a comforting hug.

He needs it. He makes no move to hug them back, makes no move as Seungmin eases the water out of his grasp. His hands lock at his sides as they lean into him. They can tell he’s fighting so hard to keep his tears at bay.

[So please don’t try to look for me…] [So that I can leave with good memories of you.]

Chris’ vision is blurry. His face is crumpled in an expression that almost makes him look mad. He really is, fighting with himself.

[Please don’t try to look for me.]

He’s trembling. His entire world is collapsing. Piece by piece. Memory by memory. All of it floods through his mind. 

[I.. too… cherish you very much.]

He stumbles forwards, his breathing erratic, and the members watch as he snatches his phone from the fridge, the voice message still playing, and grabs the door handle to leave.

[So that’s why, I’m going to stop it here.]

Chris chokes back a pathetic sob and swings open the door, sprinting off, his jacket flying off his shoulders and landing on the floor.

It’s pouring rain outside. At least no one can see his tears.

It leaves me feeling seasick, baby

Chris bursts out of the JYP building, ignoring the yells of managers, trainees and staff alike. Immediately, he’s drenched from head to toe, but he couldn’t care less. The water seeps straight through to his bones, and he looks around desperately, like he’s searching for you – but obviously you’re not here. He unlocks his phone and calls you, the rain spattering the screen with droplets.

“Pick up,” his mind delirious, his teeth clenched, drawing in heavy breaths, “pick up pick up pickuppickuppickup- answer your fucking phone!” he dials you again and takes off at a sprint, running along the footpath, the rain pelting him. He can barely see where he’s going, his hair slick on his forehead.

Seems like I'm locked deep in the dreamlike reality

He’s called you about five times, panting in the rain before the thought crosses his mind. Chris swivels himself back around and sprints back to the JYP building, swerving past people in umbrella’s. He couldn’t care less about the water that he’s dripping everywhere on the floor, couldn’t care less about the surprised yells of employees as he pushes past them. He bounds up the steps, skipping as many as possible, the burn in his legs already growing, and bursts into JYP’s Office without even knocking.

“What did you say to her?” he asks, frantic, eyes flickering with pain. “Say to who?” JYP frowns, the conversation he was having with a trainee coming to an abrupt stop. “Y/N. What did you say to her?” Chris repeats, growing impatient. “I have not… said anything…” JYP deadpans, offering a sympathetic shrug.

It spins me 'round and drives me crazy

Chris is back out in the rain. He didn’t waste a second after those words left JYP’s mouth, turning tail and dashing back out of the building again. He was meant to head back to the dorms, but he’s been running around in circles, trying to process, trying to think. He stops in the middle of a nearby park, hyperventilating, letting the tears fall from his eyes straight to the ground, his hands braced on his knees.

“Why…? Why why why? You can’t do this to me,” he sobs, swiping the water from his phone screen again to dial your number for the nth time.

It seems that I'm like the moon in the midday

“Good morning sunshine…” he happily chirps, the familiar endearment causing you to smile happily. This time though, you have an idea. “Good morning moonlight,” your smile intensifies as Chris pauses, stunned, and you wriggle your way into a seated position, forcing him to do the same.

“Moonlight?” he questions, his voice cracking slightly in the early morning. “Yeah. Moonlight. ‘Cause even in the darkness you still shine.” Chris blinks at you, then after a second, grabs your arm to pull you into his lap, “Okay sure,” he pecks the top of your head, a favourite action of his, “but you got one thing wrong. If you’re my sunshine and I’m your moonlight… then I shine because you do.”

If I was only by myself

“Don’t leave me. You can’t leave me. You can’t-” Chris sinks down onto his knees, burying his face into his hands. The rain is beginning to die down, but that doesn’t matter to him. A whine escapes him, against his will, and it turns into a drawn-out moan as he collapses in on himself, a lone man in the middle of an even lonelier park.

If I didn't know you

“I need you. I need- why would you-” he looks at his phone again, then in his frustration, throws it into the nearby bush. He’s pacing around on the footpath in a panic, raking his hands over and over through his hair, tugging at it, his eyes puffy with tears, bottom lip trembling. He curses and scrambles around in the bush, plucking his phone out and shoving it into his pocket.

Maybe I'd have given up

Chris takes off into another sprint, his body needing to do something, trying to feel some other kind of pain that isn’t in his heart. Eventually, he stumbles into the wall of a building, desperately needing it for support, gasping for air. “Why would you-” his voice cracks into a dry scream, hammering his fist on the wall once, his forehead resting against the cold brick.

Lost at sea

That was him. The idiot leaning too far over the railing was the one whispering nonsense in your brain. How you came to this conclusion was to anyone’s guess, but it was him. In the seconds it had taken you to sprint over to him, he had clambered on top of the railing, balancing precariously, his hands in his hoodie pockets, gazing into the depths of the water.

But my heart's still on fire With a burning desire Gonna get you back like it's destined

He flinches at the sound of a car horn rapidly honking, and he pushes himself off the wall to locate it. “Yah! Hyung! Get in!” Minho yells, waving at him from the driver’s seat of one of the company cars. Chris shakes his head slowly, leaning back onto the wall, not in the mood to be sitting in a car with anyone. Needing instead to punish himself, make his body sore, let his throat go raw with his screams and his sobs.

“Okay, I guess you don’t want a lift to the airport then!” he yells again, winding up the window with a raise of his eyebrows. Chris lets out an exasperated laugh, annoyed with himself, his mind clearing. 

“Okay okay okay. I won’t pay. You can let me go,” you fuss, scrabbling at his hands, but he sighs and hugs you tighter. “Never. Will never let you go,” he mumbles, kissing the back of your head affectionately.

I wish that you would love me

The car is practically silent as Minho drives, silent except for Chris’ sniffles. He’s staring off into space, and Minho’s worry for his elder only intensifies the longer they drive for, his eyes frequently flickering from his leader back to the road. A ringtone reverberates through the car, and Minho answers by pressing a button on the steering wheel. “Yeah?” “’Lix booked a flight ticket, tell Chan hyung it’s Gate 21, Flight FR3421, and leaves in an hour.” Changbin responds, the sound of his hurried footsteps echoing through the phone as he walks.

“He’s here, I have him. He can hear you,” Minho calmly states, and Changbin makes a noise of acknowledgement before continuing on, “Jisung’s explaining things to JYP, I’m headed there now.” The sound of a door opening is heard, and then even louder, the voices of JYP and Jisung arguing.

Like yesterday, don't let go of this hand ever again

Chris’ hand sneakily slips into yours, and he places it neatly on his thigh, carefully stroking your knuckles. This shakes you out of your reverie, and you glance at your linked hands, a small smile gracing your features.

And every time my heart beats Match your steps so you don't wander around ever again

He’s going to find you. He doesn’t give a shit about how mad JYP will be. Doesn’t give two fucks about his schedule. He will find you. And he’ll never, never let you go.

--

I’m interrupting again, I do apologise. I unfortunately have run out of the mental capacity to continue writing like this. My heart, my mind, my soul can’t handle it. Chris gets on the plane, and he tries to sleep. He suffers really bad nightmares, and suddenly that strange occurrence is back. People are dying again. In his dreams though. Stays are dying again. He wakes up with a start and coughs up blood, it drips out of his hand and onto his clothes, and he’s shaking, trembling, wracked with fear and hurt and pain.

He needs you.

--

Chris thanks the taxi driver, pressing his phone to the EFTPOS through the car window and hoists his bag higher on his shoulder. Hyunjin had stuffed his bag with basic necessities and passed it on to Minho to take with him as he went on the hunt for Chris. The shutters are pulled down on your café. You must have just recently closed, it’s only 11.17pm.

After a brief hesitation, he hammers on the café door. When there’s no response, he takes a step back, searches for a pebble on the ground, aims, and throws it up at your apartment window. It takes him a couple of tries, but Ashley’s head suddenly peeks out. Her eyes widen as she recognises Chris, and she immediately disappears.

Chris’ confusion only mounts when Ashley pulls up the shutter and opens the door, the keys jangling in the lock. “Where is-” he begins, but Ashley swiftly interrupts him, “She’s not here.”

The young girl suggests that Chris comes inside, asking him twice because Chris’ mind has stopped working again.  “What do you mean she’s not- she has to be,” he pleads and Ashley sighs, holding the door wider for him. Chris’ legs feel heavy as he walks into the café and follows Ashley upstairs to your apartment.

“I… I own this place now… I live here,” Ashley begins, cautiously analysing Chris’ expression. His breath is immediately wiped out of his lungs at the obvious lack of your presence. Your decorations are gone, your photo frames vanished, every essence of you eradicated from the apartment.

“Where… where is she…?” Chris murmurs, his bag slipping from his shoulders and down onto the floor. Ashley hums sadly, bouncing on the balls of her feet with her hands behind her back. Chris slowly turns towards Ashley, struggling to confirm coherent words, “Where- where did she go?”

Ashley sighs and clasps her hands together sadly, “She didn’t want me to tell you this… but quite honestly, I was never a supporter of this plan in the first place.” “This was a plan?” “Been planned right from the start of it all. Since the skittles, she said. She’s home now.”

“Home? This is her home. She should be- her home is with me.” Ashley shakes her head and disappears into her bedroom, your bedroom, Chris’ gaze lingering on her retreating form. After a minute, Ashley returns with a cardboard box in her arms.

“These are yours… your possessions. She wanted me to throw them out but… I… didn’t have the heart to,” she hands Chris the box, and he opens the lid hesitantly, blinking back tears.

His clothes, his toiletries, his snacks, his drinks.

“Where is she?” he asks again, asking for a more specific answer, “Where’s her home?” “She’s with her family, back in Australia… Perth.” Chris inhales sharply and stalks over to the couch to place the cardboard box there. He whips out his phone and types out a quick message to the Stray Kids’ group chat, letting them know of his current situation.

Jisung: “Go get her. I’ll fight with JYP again, no problem.” 

The rest of the Kids’ react to Jisung’s message with a thumbs up.

Changbin: “I’ll beat his ass this time.”

Message's of agreement follow, and Chris manages a small smile.

“I’m not going to give you her address until you rest,” Ashley stubbornly states, assuming that Chris is booking a flight to Perth, “She’d want you to rest.”  Chris contemplates Ashley’s words, glancing at her outstretched hand. A wave of exhaustion crashes over him then, and he nods in assent, handing his phone over to her. “No booking flights until tomorrow. Go wash up and get some sleep,” Ashley commands, walking over to place his phone on the kitchen counter.

He spends most of his time standing in the shower, staring at the wall, his brain foggier than the steaming glass windows. He’s absently fiddling with a bracelet on his wrist.

“Happy Birthday Christopher~” “What’s this?” “It’s a gift for me, obviously.” “Alright, you goose. Stupid question. Can I… open it?” “Of fucking course.” "…" “It’s got my name on the underside… so you can carry me wherever you go.” “I love you.” “I know.” “Oi! C’mere you little shit, say it back!” “Happy BirthdayyyyyyyyyyAHH! DON’T TICKLE ME!”

When he finally gets out of the shower, changing into one of his hoodies from the cardboard box of his belongings, he finds Ashley lying down on the couch, blankets draped on top of her, scrolling on her phone. “I’ll sleep on the couch. What’re you doing?” Chris asks, towelling his hair. Ashley lowers her phone and frowns at him, “It’s fine. You can take the bed.”

“I don’t think I can…” Chris whispers, and Ashley nods in understanding. “I thought you might like to… I haven't washed the sheets yet because they… they still smell like her…” “Oh,” Chris falters, swallowing thickly. “I just thought- that it’d help you sleep better. I know it helps me sleep better… I… I miss her too…” Ashley smiles softly, going back to scrolling on her phone. “You miss her?’ Chris asks, his voice croaky. “She’s like an older sister. Of course I miss her.” “Oh.”

They do… smell like you. But it’s not you.

--

Chris clicks open his phone, reading the text message from Ashley. She’s finally sent him your address using his recently traded phone number. He sighs and leans back into his plane seat, fiddling with that bracelet again. He’s trying to work through what he’s going to say to you when he finally sees you again. His gaze is unfocused as he stares out of the plane window, watching the clouds drift lazily past, the world small, insignificant.

Fear courses through him, and he sits up straighter, the back of his neck prickling, goosebumps emerging everywhere. His breath seizes in his throat as the barrel of a gun is pressed to the side of his head, cold and hard, digging painfully into his skin. He looks around in a panic, irises blown out and terrified, but of course – there’s no actual gun at his head. Chris’ hands grip his armrests tightly, his knuckles white, as a voice, echoey and distant, murmurs in his mind.

“Just pull the trigger and it’s done… it’s as easy as that…”

Chris’ breath returns in ragged huffs, his heart screaming in his chest, eyes flickering with horror.

“Please,” Chris begs, his voice coming out in a pitiful whine, “Please, not this again. Please.”

--

I’ll help you out here, since I’ve been a lazy author and haven’t been keeping you up to date with Chris’ strange condition much. This strange connection to suicidal Stays ceased to exist when he met you. They only visited him in nightmares, but even then, they eventually stopped too. It’s only just recently that they’ve returned… ever since you’ve left him. Ever since you’ve denied him your love. This time is different though, this time the symptoms are more severe. 

I suppose… you can think of it like this – imagine you’ve been tortured for a long time, and then eventually you find release, you find freedom. Wouldn’t it be 10x worse if suddenly you’re thrown back into this torture? Thrown back in after finally having a taste of freedom? Yeah. I think it would be.

--

Chris hears the click of the trigger, loud next to his ear. There’s a brief bang, which makes him flinch, a stabbing pain in the side of his skull, and he’s gone. He’s dead. You can forget about his mission to find you. You can forget about his heartbeat, his thoughts, his soul. He’s dead. Died at the same time someone else in the world shot a bullet through their brain. He’s dead. 

“Excuse me? Sir, please wake up. Sir! Natalie! Go get a med kit! Quickly!” Chris stirs, his head groggy as his eyes drift open. His vision is blurred, so even when he turns his head to stare at the person gripping his shoulder tightly, he can’t tell who it is.

“What…?” he mumbles as if someone’s just woken him from his peaceful sleep, and the flight attendant turns back to him in shock. “It’s alright sir, just sit still don’t move your head. I’m just going to apply pressure to the wound okay?” she murmurs, grabbing a cloth off another flight attendant and pressing it to the side of his skull.

“What?” Chris asks again, his vision clearing. “Sir, you’re bleeding,” she states, staring at him in confusion. She retracts her other hand to show the blood coated all over it. “Am I?” he asks, and his senses fully return to him, panic gripping him as he feels his blood trickling past his ear, dripping everywhere on his seat, a strange throbbing in his skull. He bolts out of his seat, shoving past the attendant and dashes down the lane to lock himself in the bathroom.

In record time, someone’s banging on the door, urging him to come out so he can be tended to, and that he’s bleeding severely and should seek medical help. Chris ignores them and stares at himself in the mirror. He’s been shot. He dips a shaking hand into the blood oozing out of his skull, retching at its stickiness.

“What the fuck?” he wheezes, stumbling forwards to support his quivering self on the sink, nausea slamming into him. He retches again, leaning forwards into the sink, preparing for the vomit. Nothing comes though, and when he looks up into the mirror again, suddenly he’s just staring at himself – tired, trembling with fear, but nothing much else. 

His hand zooms up to his head again, but there’s no blood. There’s no bullet wound. Just him. “What the actual fuck?” Chris repeats again, groaning and slamming his forehead into the mirror (A/N: Please help me, I actually don’t think there are bathroom mirrors on planes but just fckn pretend there is because it was necessary). Eventually, he scoffs and pushes himself up, fixing his hair to make it look a little less ruffled.

“That’s fucking new,” he growls, glaring at himself in the mirror, then up above, as though he’s blaming a higher entity for his suffering. He takes a deep breath and finally notices that the knocking on the bathroom door has stopped, and instead he can hear panicked whispers. “I don’t understand, where did the blood go? My hand was covered in blood, where did it-”  “No, I know I saw it, I gave you the cloth to-”

Chris unlocks the bathroom door and swings it open, staring at the flight attendants with a hesitant grin, “Sorry ladies, did you need the bathroom?” Their jaws fall open in shock at the sight of him, unwounded, unphased. “No you- your head was bleeding badly just a second ago,” One of them stutters. Chris frowns and stares at them like they’re insane, then steps out of the bathroom and closes the door slowly, “I… think I’d know… if my head was… bleeding. Are you guys okay?”

They blink at him, stunned. Then clear their throats nervously and turn to stare at each other before muttering, “Do you think we’re just tired?” Chris shrugs, gives them a little bow and turns away to return to his seat. Behind his back, they continue to talk, “How can we both possibly hallucinate the same thing though?” “I don’t understand.” “Let’s just… yeah let’s go rotate… I think we need more sleep.”

He’d always wondered what would happen if you were ever to leave his side. He’d never figured out whether the suicidal connections stopped because of you, or if it was purely coincidental. If there was any silver lining to this situation, it would be that he now knows that he needs you. He wants you and he needs you. Please. Come back to him.

--

Chris gulps as he drags his suitcase to a stop in front of your family home, double-checking the address on his phone. His heart is beating frantically, and he can’t tell if it’s from nerves or excitement. The sun is warm on his back, but at the same time it prickles his skin, sizzling it with an uncomfortable anticipation.

Slowly, he meanders his way up the driveway, admiring the red and yellow kangaroo paw framing its outline. It’s almost a relief when he steps under the shade of the front patio, welcoming the protection from the sun. After a steadying breath, he presses his finger to the doorbell, head tilting at the sound of it ringing from inside. There’s some muted shuffling, brief yelling and then the door clicks open. Standing in the doorway is someone who isn’t you but could basically be a duplicate of you.

Her hair through to her eyes, height through to her smile; it’s so shockingly similar to yours that Chris almost breathes your name. Eventually, his mind corrects itself and he notices the wrinkles lining her expression, the mole on the wrong spot, the different jawline. 

He’s just met your mother.

“Hi, are you alright? Can I help you?” she asks, blinking at him through the screen door. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but as he thinks over it, he probably should have expected it. He hadn’t prepared himself to come face to face with one of your parents. Her eyes flicker over the backpack and suitcase behind him, and she squints, an idea formulating in her mind.

“You’re… Christopher right?” she frowns, just as he opens his mouth to introduce himself. “I’m- yes- I’m- yeah that’s me…” he responds, his voice feebly dying in his throat. Your mother swivels around on her heels and calls over her shoulder.

“Noah honey, Chris is here can you pop the kettle on!?” Then with a swift click, she unlocks the screen door and swings it wide, smiling gently at Chris. “Who’s here?!” Noah yells back, and your Mum rolls her eyes. “Christopher! Y/N’s boyfriend!” she shakes her head and returns her attention to Chris, who’s standing frozen, a little confused and disoriented, “Sorry about the yelling love, come in, come in.” 

Chris fumbles for his suitcase behind him, but your Mum gestures again, “Oh don’t worry about that, I’ll grab that. You just make yourself at home.”  Chris hesitates but catches a familiar glimmer in her eyes and thinks better of it. 

Once inside, he takes note of the shoes gathered neatly by the corner and takes his own off before leaving the inside doormat, carefully placing them to the side. “Just walk straight through to the living room, my husband will bring you a coffee-”

Chris swivels around and opens his mouth to explain that he doesn’t drink coffee, or tea, but your Mum slaps her forehead in realisation and chatters on, “Oh dearie me, you don’t drink coffee do you love? NOAH!” “Yeah?!” “Have we got any pineapple juice in the fridge?!” she yells again, and Chris can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed at being stuck in the middle of a conversation being yelled across the house.

And… how did she know about… pineapple juice being one of his favourites…

“My name’s Kiara love, Kia works fine though,” she explains, dragging his suitcase inside and shutting the door with her foot.  “I don’t mean to intrude-” Chris begins, hands tightening on his bag straps. “Oh nonsense my dear boy. You’ve won me some money,” she waves at him, squeezing past and leading him into the lounge room where Noah is setting a glass of pineapple juice and a hazelnut croissant on the coffee table.

“That’s not how you should be welcoming him, Ki,” Noah scoffs, eyeing his wife pointedly, “There’s no need to involve our bets. Leave the poor man alone.” “This poor man has his priorities straight,” Kiara scoffs back, rolling Chris’ suitcase to a stop beside the couch, then shuffling over in her fluffy grey indoor slippers to take his bag off him. Chris doesn’t really want to know what the bet is about. He could probably guess, so instead he stares at Kiara’s slippers, bewilderment melting into embarrassment.

“Are those… Wolfchan-” he begins as Kiara plonks his bag down next to his suitcase. “Hm? These?” she asks, lifting a foot up, “Yeah. I bought them for Y/N years back, but then she left, forgot to pack these and then said I could use them because we’re the same size. They’re super comfy too.”

Chris’ heart falters at the mention of your name, and Noah seems to notice this, for he pats the couch next to him with a small smile. Chris slowly sits down and accepts the pineapple juice, taking a tiny sip. “If you have anything to say son, then you’re welcome to. However, I’ll just point out that there’s no need to introduce yourself or explain why you’re here. Y/N told us everything.”

Chris nods and takes a deep breath, eyeing the hazelnut croissant with disdain. Did they know about the significance of that croissant too? Looking at it makes his heart ache. “I can’t… I can’t lose her,” he eventually breathes, and Kiara sits down on his other side. “We know sweetie… and I think it’s quite admirable that you’ve flown all this way to find her,” she nods, placing a tentative hand on his back.

“Yeah well… I had no choice she wouldn’t- she’s not answering my calls… or my messages,” Chris sets the glass down and urges himself to not cry. No crying, especially not in front of your parents. Enough. “At least she didn’t block you. It’s a sign that she hasn’t completely let go yet either, so just try your hardest son. I know my daughter is stubborn, she gets that from me unfortunately, but if you try hard enough…” Noah rambles, his hands wildly gesturing, but eventually lapses into silence.

“Where is she?” Chris eventually asks, dreading the question. He resents the way it sounds coming out of his mouth, broken and vulnerable. He resents that every time he has asked, he’s come up short, people telling him they know nothing, or she’s not here. He resents having to ask the question at all.

“She’s out with Oliver right now, but she’ll be home soon, don’t worry,” Kiara chirps, rubbing his back comfortingly. “The dog Kiara. The dog. She’s taken Oli, our Aussie Shepherd, out for a walk,” Noah adds, and Chris can’t help but crack a small smile as Kiara rolls her eyes and Noah continues, “What’re you trying to do? Spark a fight out of jealousy? Oliver’s a dog, not a human.”

“Oh give it a rest honey, I’m sure Chris doesn’t get jealous that easily.” Chris picks up his drink again and takes a generous sip, deciding it better to let Kiara believe that to be true. He does, sometimes… get jealous.

“Now, I know you love our girl. That much is obvious,” Noah grins, “But I want to know why you need her in your life.”  Chris frowns at the question, his hand digging into the holes of his ripped jeans, and at his confusion, Noah elaborates, “You can love someone, but still let them go, simply because you do love them. I want to know why you love her and need her in your life.” 

He thinks he understands the question now, and before he can even think his mouth is spilling words. “She makes me happy. I know my career is rough, it’s chaotic, it’s strenuous. But the days that I do get to see her are the best days of my life. She’s never expected anything of me. She’s never held me in high regard just because I’m an idol. She sees me as me. I’m just Chris to her.

“Sometimes I look at her, and I can see snippets of myself – the way she treats her customers, the way she tackles her work, the way she loves. And I- she gives me a reason to love myself. Through loving her, I’m learning to love myself. I feel loved, when I’m with her. And the world is okay. It’s full of love. And suddenly I want all this love to go to her.

“Her smile makes me smile. Her laugh does that too. I’m never going to forget that look in her eyes when she’s listening to me talk about my day. And now- I-” Chris can feel himself cracking, his voice breaking as he tries to continue, and a realisation hits him so hard that he has to stop talking. When he finally continues, his voice is barely a whisper, “And I would do anything in the world to see her smile and her eyes and even her attitude… replicated in our kids. But I can’t- they won’t exist if she doesn’t- if I can’t-”

Chris takes a shuddering breath and stops himself. He’s not going to say anything else. If he continues he genuinely won’t be able to contain his emotions. “I think you should probably marry her first,” Noah smiles, “And you have our blessing for that.” Chris chuckles, the laugh escaping from who knows where. Thanks Noah.

“What do you mean our blessing, we hardly know Chris yet and you’re already saying they can marry?” Kiara frowns, and Noah sighs. “Kiara, my love. You were the one who bet on him trying to find our daughter, I thought you’d agree.” "Hold your horses, I was only kidding.” “You need to work on your timing, that was not a great time to kid.”

Chris is only half paying attention to their banter. His reason? He’s heard you, and now his brain is selectively tuning out your parents, instead fixating on the laughter in your voice. “Oli! C’mere boy let me take that leash off you hey?”

Chris slowly stands up, in a daze, and your parents quieten, watching as he progresses around the corner following the sound of your voice. When he sees you, he doesn’t know how he feels. Excitement? Fear? Trepidation? Relief? You on your knees, smiling as you unclip your dogs leash. You, so close, yet so far away, separated by a glass door. 

Eventually, you look up. The surprise that flickers across your features at the sight of him standing beyond the glass door swiftly vanishes, replaced instead with a cold harshness. A look that makes him feel like he’s lost. He’s lost you. You drop the leash onto the outside table, then seem to contemplate him. When you slide the door open, Chris doesn’t know what to do, what to say, his rehearsed lines flying out the window.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you seethe, sliding the door shut behind you forcefully.  “I’m here for you,” Chris croaks out, and your jaw clenches. (A/N: Please tell me someone remembers this parallel. It hurts me.) “How did you even-” you pause and sigh in resignation, “Ashley.” Then with a final glare directed towards him, you stalk past, ignoring him as he mutters your name repeatedly.

Immediately, you notice the pineapple juice and untouched croissant on the coffee table (A/N: And this parallel, the croissant guys), but your parents are nowhere to be seen. “Can we talk? Please?” Chris asks, following you as you scoop up the food and drink and unceremoniously dump them in the kitchen. “Go home Christopher,” you scoff, rummaging around in a basket full of vehicle keys.

“Home? I am home.” “No, you’re not. You’re in my house.” “It’s technically your parents-” “I don’t give a shit about technicalities, you’re in my house and you’re not meant to be. Get the fuck out,” you hiss, your voice rising. Chris stares at you, his soul evidently shattering piece by piece.

“I don’t understand,” he murmurs, his voice broken. “What’s there to understand?” you sigh, rubbing your forehead in frustration. “Why did you- why are you here, why did you leave… me?”  “I broke up with you the way that I did so we wouldn’t have to go through this. I did that because- I said that I cherished you did I not? I didn’t want to go through this. This fight. This-” “Then don’t fight. We don’t have to fight, just come back to me.” You grit your teeth and brush past him again, scanning the dining table, looking for something, ignoring him.

“Why did you leave? I told you to not think about leaving under any circumstance, I said I would sort it out and I did. So why the fuck did you leave me? Why did you run? Why did you disappear? You left without warning, you left nothing behind. All I got was the worst fucking voicemail of my entire life and you expected me to just- live with that?!” 

You breathe through your nose heavily and turn back to him, a fire burning in your eyes, “I thought you said you didn’t want to fight?” “I’m the one fighting here, I’m the one fighting for you. But I want to know why. Why am I fighting for you? I thought everything was fine. I thought-”

Finally, you crack, your voice exploding in a yell, “I LEFT BECAUSE I COULDN’T MAKE YOU CHOOSE BETWEEN STRAY KIDS OR ME!” Chris falls silent, staring as you pull out a chair and sit down, defeated.  “I left because I knew you’d choose me. I knew you’d choose me over the career you’ve lost blood and tears for. And I couldn’t do that to you.”

“That’s not a decision for you to make,” Chris growls, his fists clenching by his side. “Yeah? Well I made it my decision to make.” “I can live, with both Stray Kids and you in my life. That is not a problem. There was no need to-” “Oh it’s not? It’s not a problem Chris?” you snap, standing back up and continuing your search for whatever… it is that you’re searching for.

“No! It’s not!” “Go back and watch your interviews. Go back and watch any fucking footage with you in it and it’s pretty fucking obvious that it’s a problem.”

You disappear down a hallway, and Chris speeds after you. After a brief knock on someone’s door, you push it open and poke your head inside. “Ry, have you got my bike keys?” you ask. “Who’re you fighting with? Is Chris here?” "Just give me my keys and go back to your game, god damn it. You got plans with my bike?”

Chris hears the jangling of keys and as you pull away from the door, a boy in his late teens peeks out, headphones resting on his shoulders. He blinks at Chris once, watching as you shove past him and out into the loungeroom again. “Hi. Nice to meet you Chris. M’name’s Ryan. Oh, and… a word of advice, never yell at a woman, it only infuriates them more.”

Chris grimaces and follows you outside again, trying to clear his head. “Look. Please. Just come back with me. Let me be yours again.” “Chris, I love you to bits. I love you so fucking much, but you need to let this go. You need to let me go. You can’t throw away your career, just for me.”

“You can love someone, but still let them go, simply because you do love them. I want to know why you love her and need her in your life.”

“I thought I was more than just an idol to you.” These words seem to strike your heart, and your hands fall limp at your sides. “You are…” you whisper, “Chris you are… you’re so much more than just an idol-” “Then why?” Chris whispers, pinching the fabric of his clothes.

When you don’t answer him, merely continue to stare, Chris continues at a whisper, tears beginning to pool at the bottom of his eyes. “I die. I’m dying. I will die over and over again, the longer you’re not by my side. The longer you-” “Then go die somewhere else.”  (A/N: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH - NAH SCREW YOU. THAT WAS FOUL)

The silence is profound. It’s so loud that it’s ringing in his ears. He’s trying to take in your deadpan expression. Trying to suppress his tears, the threatening urge to scream in fury. The desire to pull you into his arms and never, actually never let you go. And he’s processing your words, each second passing a stab to his heart. He thinks, perhaps, this has been the most realistic stab he’s ever felt. The most painful.

Chris of course, is not lying when he says he’ll die every day without you. Naturally, you don’t know that. And naturally, you don’t know how badly you’ve just hurt him.

“You don’t mean that…” he whispers, walking towards you, trying to reach you, “take that back, you don’t mean that.” You take a step back and shake your head, Chris’ arm dropping to his side, his tears beginning to openly flow down his face. The sight makes your eyes start to sting, your heart shattering at his broken form. You turn away and head back outside again. Chris watches your retreating figure through the haze of his tears.

“Y/N,” he cries, eventually following you outside as you jam a helmet over your head and swing yourself over a motorbike, “Y/N where are you going?”  As soon as the helmet obscures your face, you’re crying, and it’s with every last bit of resolve remaining that you start the bike in silence, not wanting him to hear your sobs. “Y/N!”

Before he can reach you, you take off, leaving him standing by the front gates, his hands holding his face, his tears trickling through his fingers. Chris stumbles back into the wall and sinks to the floor, burying his head in his hands. After a couple of minutes, he looks up at the sound of people moving around him, and immediately wipes his face upon seeing Noah, Kiara and Ryan standing above him, sympathetic expressions on their faces.

“Let her cool off, talk to her again later when she’s back,” Ryan helpfully says, his hands entrenched in his hoodie. “She shouldn’t be cooling off on her bike, I’m worried for her. She’s a bit of speed demon isn’t she?” Kiara mumbles, looking out at the open gates. “She’ll be fine. I taught her how to ride, she’s not stupid,” Noah grumbles, pulling Kiara into a side hug. “People can do stupid things when they’re in pain.”

Ryan’s last words only make Chris break down again, and he curls tighter into himself. “Come back to me,” he sobs over and over again. 

--

You find yourself pulling your bike up to park by the beach. That’s perhaps the fastest you’ve ever ridden, the wind louder than your thoughts, stinging your skin into numbness. You’re shaking by the time you get off your bike, and you actually have no idea how you’re still alive. The dried tears on your cheeks feel cold in the air.

After propping your helmet up on your seat, you meander your way towards the water, stripping yourself of your shoes and socks so you can feel the sand between your toes. You’ve no idea why you’re here, of all places. You just rode until you couldn’t feel your fingers anymore. Rode until your legs were stiff.

The beach is Chris’ favourite place, so why are you here? The sun’s already beginning to set, and you sink down into the sand, watching the waves creep up to your toes, tickling them gently, then retreat silently. So blue. So endless. So cold. So peaceful. You think, that if you could decide how you die, you’d like to die in the sea.

--

You’ve been out for hours, sitting at the beach until you can’t feel your limbs anymore. When you finally return home, it’s dark, and you’re shivering from the cold. Your parents have gone out tonight. It’s their monthly movie night, and you hardly doubt they’ll break tradition just because Chris is here. If he’s still here. Ryan will most likely still be gaming in his room, and Dennis is at Uni, so it’ll just be you and Chris really. If he’s still here.

As quietly as you can, you slip inside, staring in a daze at the places where you and Chris were just fighting only hours ago. It’s not until you walk to go put your keys in the basket that you hear him, breathing softly on the couch. He’s sitting up, like he was waiting for you to get home, and again your heart breaks, your hand flying up to your mouth to quieten your sob. They all must have been worried for you. It wasn’t sensible of you, to tear up the road on your bike when you’re not in the right headspace.

You pad over to him and sit down on the coffee table, watching as he sleeps, his face free of pain, hurt and sadness. Just peaceful. “Why did you have to follow me here?” you ask softly, resisting the itch to push his hair out of his eyes. You’re sitting there, in silence, for a few more minutes before Chris whines in pain. His forehead is crinkled, eyebrows knitted together, and his hand darts up to his scrunch his shirt, twisting it into a knot.

“I don’t want to- no- no no no-” he murmurs, and you move to his side immediately, whispering soothing words, falling back into a familiar routine. “Chris, hey, I’m here, it’s okay.”

Chris takes a shuddering gasp and his flash open, wild and panicked. He’s moving around too much that it makes it hard for you to grab at his shirt… and he’s drenched. You blink and perform a once-over. He’s drenched. How is he- he was dry just a second ago-  “Chris.” 

He’s gasping wildly for breath, his hair stuck to his forehead, curls flattened out. “Chris why are you- how are you-” you’re grabbing him in bewilderment, trying to find a part of him that isn’t soaked with water. In the next second he’s coughing out water, buckets of it spilling out of his mouth. You yelp and jump out of the way, skittering backwards on the couch, and Chris finally seems to register your presence. 

“Y/N?” he gasps, swaying and clutching his chest in a panic, “I can’t- I can’t- I’m drowning-” he coughs, and you can only stare at him in confusion. Out of nowhere, he grabs your arm and yanks you into him, hugging you tightly, tears leaking from his eyes as he trembles around you, his clothes soaking yours, his hands frigid with cold. Oh how you've missed his hugs - missed him. Almost immediately, Chris’ shuddering gasps cease, and you swivel in his arms in surprise, watching as the water seeping his clothes fades into nonexistence, his hair miraculously dries, returning to its previously fluffy state.

“I’m so confused,” you bluntly state, eyes wide. “I’ll explain, I’ll explain. Just don’t… just stay with me.”  You curl back into his embrace as he tugs you closer, hiding his face in your neck, inhaling your warmth and scent like it’s his life force. “Stay with me,” he murmurs again, tightening his hold around you.

--

To save myself the difficulty of writing ‘explanation’ dialogue, he explains. Right from the beginning, everything to do with his connection to suicidal Stay’s, and how you’re connected to them too. You remain silent the entire time, absorbing the information. When he’s done, still hugging you tightly, he falls silent, and you can sense that he’s nervous.

--

“I understand if you don’t… believe me…” he eventually murmurs, nuzzling further into your neck, “I don’t really believe it myself…” “I believe you,” you whisper back, hand reaching up to stroke his curls, tears forming in your eyes again, “I believe you, I do.”

And then you’re explaining how you heard his inner monologue that day, on that bridge. And then you’re hugging him tighter and placing kisses on his head through your tears. And now you’re apologising, over and over again and Chris is sobbing with you, but he’s muttering a different set of words.

“I love you.”

--

Do you return back to your Café after this? Yeah. Yeah you do, and Ashley is overjoyed to see the pair of you walking hand in hand up to the Café. How’s JYP doing? Oh he’s fine. Rethinking his life choices after Changbin and Jisung confronted him again, stopping him from ruining Chris’ career. Don’t worry though, JYP isn’t all bad – he removed the restrictions on Chris from seeing you, truly amazed by Chris’ dedication to you.

There won’t ever be a day where the world is completely happy with your relationship with Chris, but as long as you march through it together, work through it together, everything will pan out okay. Just ignore the haters, who are they to get in the way of something so pure? Something so valuable?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

-> PART 7 　 -> Masterlist

A/N: Anyways, the ending was lowkey rushed, and I’m sorry about that – but it got harder to write the longer I wrote for. You don’t know how difficult it is to turn Chris into a sobbing emotional wreck.

Feedback is always appreciated, negative and positive alike. I apologise for any editing errors, I’m forever learning.

Until next read!! - Kaisowoo

[extrovedteen]

Just a quick one— inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s ‘It’s a bad idea, right?’ Single 🤍

___________

“Hey” you answer your phone, not even reading the caller ID beforehand and are slightly slurring your words.

“Y/N?” You’re shocked at the voice and have to check the Caller ID, which confirms that it is indeed Kit Connor aka your ex boyfriend.

You guys had decided to end things because he was always off filming, and it felt like he didn’t have time for you anymore, especially because he had become such a desired actor and it made you uncomfortable with all of the girls that were interested in him, you were scared of getting hurt.

“Kit?” You asked, confused as to why he was calling you, the music loud and you are unsure that he can even hear you.

“Where are you? It’s loud.” He laughs and you can tell that he’s smiling his golden retriever smile from ear to ear. “I miss you, I just got home” he lulls into your ear with his British accent your heart skipping another beat.

He has this effect on you where no matter what he’s done, he can always pull you back in. “I haven’t heard from you in a couple of months… but I’m out right now, and I’m all fucked up.” You admit to him.

“Who is it?” Your best friend asks, trying to listen into the phone call.

“I’ll send you my address, I’m all alone.” He says into the phone, as if he can’t hear you. His voice definitely has some undertone and you know exactly what he wants.

“I’m not com—“ but before you can finish your sentence he sends you his address and hangs up. You can’t help being excited that he’s home and wants to see you. Your best friends voice breaks you out of it.

“Babe, he really broke your heart last time.” Your best friend says, reading the message with you. But your brain is in ‘la, la’ mode as you think to yourself ‘Seein’ you tonight, is a bad idea right?’ But you give yourself too many excuses ‘he’s my ex but two people can reconnect…’

“We’re just friends…” You switch your phone off and look at your friends. “Another shot? And I’m going to go home.” You tell them and your best friend looks right through you but knows she can’t do anything so she just follows you to the bar and you take another shot of tequila and chase it down with salt and lemon.

“Bye, babes.” You tell her and you stumble through the exit and holler a taxi, feeling the cold night air on your skin, inevitably giving them the address Kit had just sent you.

‘On my way’ you reply to him before clicking on his account and scrolling through the photos of him, you’re sure you’ve seen much hotter men but you can’t really remember when.

The taxi eventually pulls up to his place and you got up to the second floor, opening the door and seeing him standing there with that smile that always pulls you in. “Hi” he says, making you gulp “Hi-“ you say back before his lips are against yours and his closing the door behind you.

You both stumble your way to his bed, kissing passionately on your way there and he’s so hot that your brain goes “Ah” and you cannot hear your thoughts.

“I only see you as a friend” you say, knowing it’s the biggest lie you’ve ever said.

“Keep telling yourself that, darling.” He mumbles into your ear before kissing your neck and stripping you of your clothes.

[book-of-baba-fett]

New tag game. Pick 5 songs you think would be used for fancam videos if your OC was canon and tag 5 people

@purgetrooperfox tagged me in this like months ago but I kept remembering it and thinking “oh I want to do that” but I didn’t realize it was months ago until I just looked for it 😂

1. Boss Bitch - Doja Cat

* This one is the ideal action fan cam. it’s one of my favorite songs to hype myself up on my gym playlist, and I feel like this would be used for action scenes with Talia, especially the bounty hunter chase scene from chapter 5 where she’s fighting in her going out dress.

2. I am not a woman, I’m a God - Halsey

* I could go on for hours about how criminally underrated If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power is as an album, tbh so many of these songs were background writing/brainstorming music because they’re so well written and the sound is so good, if you haven’t listened I totally recommend. This song in particular is amazing, and I feel like it would be great for those kinda female rage edits, or angsty ones showing off Talia’s power in juxtaposition with how she’s feeling left out of the Order.

3. Unknown Soldier - Breaking Benjamin

* Taking a break from Talia to show Storm a little love, and this is a bit of a cop out because i’ve talked about this song in general for the clones before but I think it works very well for Storm’s character because what was all his fighting for? He was originally in the wolf pack, and only missed abregado because he was promoted to a captain and just moved to the 412th to miss the event that killed most of the men he had just served with, and he has some guilt over that. Then with the 412th, he wasn’t on the ground when Maul attacked and massacred the men, leaving Talia injured, so that’s another realm of guilt he has.

He’s the soldier that always pushes on, even when the galaxy moves on around him. I don’t know if i’ll ever get to write much of his and Rhys’s story, but he has a chance for life outside the army but it’s complicated and he’s the type of noble man that couldn’t leave his brothers behind even if his own happiness is lost. and he does make it to the end of the war, but for those that read IA you know that his ending is not happy, no matter that outcome of the unknown.

4. illicit affairs - taylor swift

* I know, a shocker. BUT I actually was debating for awhile if I would include a taylor song here and which one, and this did really feel like the right one because I could include why i titled the fic this, because rex and talia’s relationship doesn’t totally mirror the relationship in the song, because that definitely seems like a more unhealthy and unhappy affair. but the passion of the bridge is what spoke to me (which is why I linked a video of taylor singing the bridge on tour), and I think there is an argument to I healthy aspects of Rex and Talia’s relationship on both sides, but I think that’s due to their environment and also they’re both young people who’ve never loved before. but the bridge really speaks to the passion they feel, and would be used so much for edits particularly around the breakup chapters and flashing back to happier times.

5. Good Luck, Babe!- chappell roan

* ok I had the throw this in here because @queen--kenobi and I have tossed this around as being used as an edit for Talia and her OC Kau’ra. i have to preface this as saying both Talia and Kau’ra do love their hetero partners, BUT if they were canon you KNOW how fandom would treat them and their creators even talk about it lmaoo so you KNOW good luck babe edits of them would be all over the feed.

no pressure tags; @enigmaticexplorer @rexxdjarin @ulchabhangorm @galacticgraffiti @certified-anakinfucker @eternal-transcience @queen--kenobi

[angelus-scripturae]

Hiya!! I'm new to your page but I was wondering if I could request a memeulous smut oneshot? I don't have anything specific in mind like at all but if you could that'd be great!!

Also I was wondering if I could be 🐝 anon if it's not already taken?? xx

OFCC YOU CAN

thanx for the request hun :) x

Stressed lately? || Memeulous x reader smut

Summary: you’re stressed with work. George had the best way of helping you.

WARNINGS: smut duh (relatively vanilla), strong language, mentions of stress/ stressful situations.

Female reader and anatomy <3

⚠️smut⚠️

You walked in the door to find the flat quieter than usual. So quiet in fact that you could hear the small rustle of the crisp packet at the bottom of your bag.

Usually, there was either talking between your two roommates or faint music as one or both of them did chores. However, recently this had begun to severely annoy you. You wish you could blame it on “that time of the month” or anything along those lines but in reality, you had no idea why you were so irritable.

Everything just seemed to annoy you lately. Someone breathing too loud, chewing too loud, using a keyboard too loud, having the tv on while you were trying to concentrate. These were all things that never used to annoy you before until a few weeks ago.

You heard a door open from deeper in the flat followed by it shutting and footsteps approaching. George looked at your messed up hair, eye bags, slouched posture - even more than usual - as you sat on the couch, and just the overall exhaustion that radiates from your figure and immediately figure out why everything seemed to piss you off lately.

You were stressed.

A few weeks ago, you had began a big project at your work with people who highly underestimated you. However, since the pay was way better than what you were getting previously, and it was great for your career if it was successful, you took the offer. However, because of your colleges’ low expectations of you, they excluded you from a lot of the project and important information that was vital you knew about. Everything about the project had pissed you off beyond belief and going to your boss didn’t help at all. So you just sucked everything up and tried to keep the peace by unintentionally taking your pent-up anger out on your boyfriend and best friend.

George came up behind you and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head before moving in front of you to crouch in between your legs.

“How was work?” He asked quietly, already knowing the answer you’d give wasn’t the entire truth.

“It was fine, just tiring.” You replied in a flat voice trying to get your laptop out of your bag to continue working. George’s hands gripped yours to stop you from finishing your movement.

“Babe, I can tell you’re stressed.” He said as your eyes trailed onto his face. It hurt him to see such pain and exhaustion in your eyes.

“I just wish I hadn’t taken on this project.” You said as tears began to fill your eyes. One of George’s hands glided onto you face to wipe a stray tear from the corner of your mouth before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

As he pulled away you followed his movement, chasing his lips hoping for another. He simply smiled and complied, this time bringing both hands up to hold your face. You tangled you fingers in his hair as the kiss grew hungrier and more passionate, You let out a small moan into his mouth when he placed his knee between your thighs to steady himself giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

His hands then moved to hold your jaw as he pushed his knee into your clothed pussy earning a quiet, desperate moan from your occupied mouth. You began to grind on this thigh as you tried your best to pull him impossibly closer to you.

In the blink of an eye, you had flipped yourself and George so that you were straddling one of his thighs temporarily breaking the kiss you breath. You continued to grind yourself down his leg, brushing his now hardened cock with your hips in the process. You heard him groan at the action and bent down to whisper in his ear.

“I need you…” You said panting, “please.”

Something in George just snapped. Hearing you say those words just stripped away any self control he had at that point as he moved himself to get on top of you. He Removed his shorts in a quick motion before doing the same with your underwear.

Freeing his cock from the confines of his boxers, he pulled your legs around him before pushing into your tight hole.You let out a high pitched moan at the familiar feeling of his cock filling you in all the right ways.

Once he bottomed out, he gave you a few seconds to adjust before thrusting into you at a slow and deep pace. Moans began spilling out of your mouth as his speed began to pick up, eventually becoming a rough pounding as the sound of skin slapping skin filled the surrounding area. Your moans fell out in a string of curses and slurred variations of Georges name as he rearranged your organs with his cock.

He moved like a piston at superhuman speeds as you felt the familiar knot began to form in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter by the second. You felt it begging to strain as you got close to your climax as George’s head dropped to the crook of your neck leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your neck and collarbone.

“Cumming!” you barely managed to stutter out before the cord in your stomach snapped and you released your delicious juices all over George’s cock. He rode you through your high before pulling out of you and pumping his dick a few times before thick white strings of cum sprayed onto your thighs.

You both simply stayed like that, laying on each other before George stood up and picked you up, carrying you upstairs.

“Come one hun, Alex will be home soon. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

A smile rose to your lips as you nodded weakly settling into his chest.

Thank you so much for the request 🐝 anon and welcome to the anon list! I’m so sorry I got this out so late I’ve just been so busy with my personal life that i just haven’t had time or the motivation. hopefully i get back to a regular schedule soon though. I hope you enjoyed this since it’s the first thing i’ve written since gaining motivation again but yeah!

[sweatforged]

*  ──  𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖙  𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹  ❜ ⟨⟨       A  FIGHTER'S  GIFT  TO  THE  STRONGEST      ⟩⟩

upon  birth,  a  father  is  deemed  protector  of  his  offspring  as  no  babe  is  capable  of  defending  themselves.  no  child  should  have  to.  no  child  should  grow  up  in  a  web  of  lies,  spun  not  by  the  sisters  of  fate,  but  a  pair  of  bitter  old  perfectionists  who  saw  the  world  in  only  one  light. 

where  had  his  protector  been  when  he  needed  him? 

all this talk about parents... didn't sit well with him. it was ... it brought back memories & thoughts he spent a long time trying to bury in the depths of his heart.

silas  grew  up  a  very  troubled  child  &  for  the  longest  time,  he  blamed  himself.  he  blamed  himself  for  not  being  smart  enough  to  please  his  parents,  he  blamed  himself  for  not  being  sociable  enough  to  hold  a  conversation,  he  blamed  himself  for  not  being wordy  enough  to  compete  in  arguments &  it  felt  like  whatever  he  tried,  it  just  wasn't  enough. 

nothing  he  did  was  ever  good  enough,  even  when  he  felt  he  was  doing  quite  well.  his  passions  usually  brushed  off,  but  when  they  didn't  -  like  his  joy  for  music,  they  found  a  way  to  infiltrate  that  as  well.  he  always  had  to  be  better  than  others,  always  had  to  be  the  center  of  attention  in  a  crowd,  but  silas  ...  was  not.  ordinary  at  best,  he  never  reached  the  required  level  of  attention  to  prove  he  was  worthy. 

he  was  just  ..not  good  enough. 

for  a  long  time  he  thought  his  life  was  just  going  to  be  ...that.  he'd  chase  this  perfection & never  succeed,  over &  over  again.  he  didn't.  sooner  rather  than  later  he  broke  out & ran  away.  maybe  he  was  meant  to,  maybe  he  wasn't  -  he  wasn't  one  to  tell,  but  he  wished  he  knew  what  he  did  now  ..  back  then  so  he  didn't  spend  his  life  wondering  why  his  parents  ..  never  felt  like  his  parents &  his  life  never  felt  like  his  life. he  never  felt  like  he  belonged. not  in  new  haven,  not  in  vegas,  not  in  los  angeles.  it  wasn't  for  a  lack  of  trying  either. 

finding  out  neither  of  his  parents  actually  were  his  parents  was  an  epiphany,  truly.  it  came  a  good  thirty  years  too  late,  but  the  saying better  late  than  never  ...  existed  for  a  reason,  right?  in  camp,  silas  felt  ...  different,  still.  he  always  had,  so  maybe  that  would  never  change,  but  he  noticed  it  when  he  watched  the  others  train,  which  was  a  good  portion  of  his  everyday  routine  at  this  point. 

they  all  had  ..something  that  made  them  ..  them.  magic,  fey  spirits  turning  into  animals,  thunder  (or  was  it  lightning?)  or  wings.  he  couldn't  take  more  than  half  of  them  in  a  fight  despite  being  the  son  of  the  god  of  strength. did  he  have  to  train  more? could  he  even  train  more? he  just  ..  had  so  many  questions,  so  many  worries,  so  many  concerns &  wonders  when  it  came  to  this  new  life  he  let  himself  be  dragged  into. 

but  this  is  your  chance.  give  an  offering  to  your  parent,  say  a  prayer,  or  have  a  conversation.  this  is  your  chance  to  take  that  step.

...what  did  that  even  mean? 

they  say  it's  normal  for  young  godlings  to  be  connected  to  their  godly  parents,  but  he  was  far  from  a fledgling.  very,  very  far  from  it.  he  still  wasn't  sure  why  he  was  even  here.  surely,  there  had  to  have  been  a  younger  kratos  child  out  there,  right? so  why  him? he  looked  at  the  others  in  camp &  just  ...wondered. constantly. questioning  his  worth,  just  like  he'd  been  raised  to.  he  really  thought  he  broke  out  of  that  cycle. clearly  not. 

not  one  for  public  display,  or  crowds  in  general,  silas  left  once  the  announcement  was  done &  he  didn't  return  until  late  at  night  the  next  day  with  seemingly  only  his  guitar  in  tow.  he  thought  about  what  he  could  possibly gift  this  father  of  his  he  never  met &  came  up  mostly  blank,  not  because  he  was  clueless,  but  because  he  struggled  to  make  up  his  mind. gift  or  no  gift.  speak  or  grace  him  with  silence.  blame  or  ...don't. 

you've  already  accepted  the  song  in  your  veins.  there's  no  going  back.

these  words...  they'd  been  goin  'round &  round  his  head &  he  knew  that  they  were  true,  so  he  may  as  well  attempt  to  find  ...  peace.  silas  didn't  have  much  to  offer;  he  had  nothing  to  his  name  -  not  in  life  or  death,  but  he  had  a  love  he  could  share.  he  could've  brought  wine,  food,  could've  spent  the  night cooking  to  burn  whatever  he  felt  worthy  in  the  morning,  but  ...  would  that  have  been  truthful? not  really. 

in  front  of  his  father's  statue,  silas  took  a  moment  in  silence...  just  ..  watching,  focus  heavy  on  his  breath  -  on  calming  himself.  setting  his  guitar  aside  for  the  moment,  he  pushed  his  sleeves  up,  two  sets  on  both  sides  -  because  silas  tended  to  wear  two  pairs  of  shirts  even  when  they  were  long  sleeves & raised  his  hands.  one  formed  a  fist &  for  a  moment  bystanders  might've  thought  he'd  attempt  punching  the  statue,  but  he  didn't.  fist  slowly  brought  against  it,  eyes  cast  down,  he  hummed  a  quiet  tune. 

"you  know,  they're  tellin'  us  to  pray,  to  bring  sacrifices  or  ..  whatever.  i  get  it  for  the  kids,  i  do.  let  them  think  daddy  or  mommy  are  watchin'.  i'm  sure  it  keeps  them  in  line,  but  me?  we  both  know  i'm  long  past  that.  i'm  not  gonna  sit  here  'n  cry  my  heart  out.  i  think  we're  both  better  off  that  way.  i  wanna  believe  you  got  my  back,  but  all  this  here? lil  late,  don't  ya  think?"

maybe  they  weren't  needed  before,  maybe  he'd  been  mortal  up  until  recently,  but  ..  he  was  still there.  he  could've  been  found &  maybe  his  age  was  the  actual  issue  here,  because  the  others  were  young  enough  to  get  used  to  the  idea  of  a father  coming  into  their  life,  but  not  him.  he  was  too  old  for  a  reprimanding  father. 

he  pulled  his  hand  back  to  himself &  flopped  down  in  front  of  the  statue,  legs  crossed &  guitar  in  reach,  but  first  he  unwrapped  his  hands,  the  dark  blue  wraps  coming  off  slowly,  one  side came  off  with  a  squelching  sound  in  tow &  silas  hissed  softly,  but  didn't  slow  down  until  both  his  hands  were  ...  bearing  skin.  bruised &  bloody,  they  bore  the  result  of  endless  training.  they  always  did,  but  the  stakes  were  higher  now. 

"you  gave  me  strength.  that's  your  thing.  i've  got  nothing  else.  all  i've  got  is  my  blood  an'  my  sweat.  you  made  me  what  i  am.  i  dunno  if  it's  been  fate  or  if  i  never  had  a  choice  in  the  first  place,  but this  is  all  i  know.  it's  what  i  am, what i've always been.  i  guess  the  anger's  yours,  too.  made  for  a  good  time  growin' up.  i  guess..  i  wonder  why  me.  got  no  other  kids  around?  did  you  even  know  my  mother?  would  make  one  of  us.  or  was  she  just  a  means  to  get  what  you  want?  it  don't  matter  anymore  now,  but  i  guess  i'm  tryin'  to  find  out  more  'bout  you  two.  funny  to  think  i'm  here,  fightin'  ...  your  fight  an'  i  never  met  you  or  my  mother." 

matches rattled & blood-crusted wrappings  were  placed  in  the  little  bowl &  set  ablaze  swiftly,  but  silas  dropped  something  else  in  the  bowl,  it  was  ..  an  heirloom  of  sorts.  it  was  stupid,  but  he  thought  it  his  good  luck  charm.  during  one  of  his  first  fights  in  the  ring,  he  almost  died.  in  the  end  it  cost  him  a  tooth.  it  was  replaced,  because  even  a  fighter  had  to  look  proper  these  days  -  apparently,  but  he  kept  it.  felt  only  right  to  offer  something  he  valued. he  did. both. when fighting was the only thing worthwhile in your life... well, options were limited. but his blood & his body .. he'd given both to the cause. freely. irrevocably.

"i'm  seein'  that  ares  kid  shred  everythin'  in  his  sight,  the  zeus  boy's  ..well,  you  know  what  he's  doin'  an'  there's  pan's  kid  summonin'  armies  of  wolves  to  fight  for  him.  or  that  one  kid  who' s controllin'  plants.  i  guess  i  feel  i'm  bein'  left  behind.  can't  fucking  win  against  most  of  them.  kratos'  son  losing  against  ...i  can't  even  say  it. sorry for being a failure, story. of my life." 

failure, a constant companion before he discovered his talent for fighting back in the day. he just... maybe for once he wanted to make a parent proud, strange as that may be given he had the age of a parent himself. though, that urge to make daddy proud never quite went away for any son.. did it?"

"i  mean  i  did  fine  outside  of  camp,  took  down  a  pack  of  lions,  the  boogeyman-  yeah,  don't  ask.  but  i had help. i.. never did. it's new, but i like it knowing someone else has my back, yeah, i'm.. i .. do. more reason to be better, y'know? i just.. struggle. fightin' the kids in  camp?  it's  frustrating.  reminds me that all this... is new. some  of  them  got wings.  fuckin'  wings.  guess  you  forgot  mine  or  the  books  are  lyin'  and  you  didn't  have  any. yeah,  i  read. surprised  me  too. fine, okay.. got an audio book. readin' ain't my thing. but, yeah..  figured  i  should  learn  some  about  that  world  your  blood  dragged  me  into.  fuck,  wings  would've  been  nice.  anyway,  i  guess  what  i'm  tryin'  to  say  is... i  try  to  make  you  proud.  dunno  if  you  care,  or  ever  did,  but  if  there's  one  thing  i'm  made  for...  it's  all  this,  so  if  you  got  advice or anythin' you need me t'do?  y'know  where  to  find  me. i'll do what i can." 

soft  sigh. 

"uh,  right.  one  more  thing.  heard  this  a  long..  long  time  ago.  never  thought  it'd  call  to  me.  well,  now  it  does.  assumin'  y'all  don't  got  radio,  so...  hope  you  enjoy,  but  i  don't  really  care  if  you  don't  either.  it's  good, i promise." 

guitar  in  his  lap,  fingers  slowly  wrapping  around  the  neck,  forming  chords  after  chords  as  he  struck  string  after  string. 

♫♫  "Like  blood  upon  the  snow The  ground  walked  here  is  a  wonder It  ceases  never  to  hunger And  all  things  nature's  given She  takes  all  things  back  from  the  living I've  walked  the  earth  and  there  are  so  few  here  that  know How  dark  the  night  and  just  how  cold  the  wind  can  blow I've  no  more  hunger  now  to  see  where  the  road  will  go I've  no  more  kept  my  warmth Than  blood  upon  the  snow Blood  upon  the  snow It's  not  my  arms  that  will  fail  me But  this  world  takes  more  strength  than  it  gave  me The  trees  deny  themselves  nothing  that  makes  them  grow No  rain  fall,  no  sunshine No  blood  upon  the  snow Blood  upon  the  snow..."  ♫♫

  "y'know,  i  forgot  somethin'.  i  never  thanked  ya.  not  sure  if  i  coulda  got  here  without  you.  you  didn't  do  shit,  not  really,  but this  ...gift.  that  part  o'me  that's  you  got  me  here,  i'm  pretty  sure.  the  bloodlust,  the  anger,  the  unbreakable  will...  worthy of a god  of  strength.  i  wanna  guess  that's  all  you,  in  a  way.  you  got  me  in  your  corner  an'  i  ain't  goin'  down  easily.  so  yeah.. teach me your ways if you will. i’ll do whatever it takes." 

  he  felt  silly  talking  to  a  statue,  but  he  understood  the  meaning  behind  it &  he  knew  that  it  was  the  same  principle  as  graveyards  -  only  this  time  around  they  knew  for  sure  that  someone  on  the  other  side  was  listening. would  he  answer? 

  "i'll  have  another  song  next  time."  he  wasn't  done  yet,  not  quite.  there  was  ...  something  else,  something  he  clearly  struggled  with  more  than  the  previous  comments & he lingered for a good five more minutes before he spoke again. "...see  ya,  father."

[cosmichighpriestess]

Hey babes. I love you. You got this. I know you are slowly feeling that sinking feeling and that tight knot in your stomach because of the state of the world. I know everything looks like it's on fire and it's only getting worse for you and others around you. I know inflation is depressing and the world looks dark and cloudy right now because everything that was already there is being exposed to be replaced with something better. But guess what? We as humans are so powerful. So powerful in fact that all you have to do is decide, assume and accept that the 3D doesn't matter anymore to you because you decide where your vibration is and not them. We are not taking the 3D literally anymore.

There is a splitting of timelines, there is one that is dark and gloomy (multiple parallel reality versions of this one) and the other is the one where we decided to feel good by raising our vibration and ascending to the fifth dimension, where everyone is healed, the Earth is healed and happy, new Earth is beautiful and abundant, and you get your dream life. All you have to do is decide you want to feel good for the sake of feeling good and drop everything else because it feels awful to focus on it. Want your dream house? Raise your vibration.

How do you raise your vibration? Focus on happy, feel good thoughts, feel good thoughts, feel good thoughts, breathe deeply, get quiet, meditate, go out into nature, take long healing baths, be in water, dance, listen to music that makes you feel good, anything that puts a big beautiful smile on your face or inner peace. Focus on already accepting that you contain everything you ever desired (you are living it in a parallel reality now) and live as if you already will have it no matter what negative thoughts try to bring you back down to the illusion that's it's not real, the 3d is all smoke and mirrors. You decide where your vibration is, not the so called Elite. Circumstances don't matter. Only your state of being matters.

Set the intention to live in a higher vibrational state because you want to feel good and that's it. So do it without expectation or attachments. Raise your vibration for a week straight just because you chose to feel good because you deserve to feel good and everything you desire, like that dream house will fall into your lap out of nowhere. Your desire is trying to chase you but you have to meet it halfway by deciding you're going to feel good. Contentment is within your reach at any time. You want to feel good, you want joy, happiness, excitement, passion, inner peace, contentment, fulfillment even after you get your dream home/life. You never want to stop feeling good because once you get a taste of it you want it again. Things are always working out for you at any given time no matter how circumstances look. Okay?

Guess what happens after you get everything you desire? You're still left with yourself and sometimes that means feeling empty and not experiencing the best states of being. It doesn't automatically mean you're happy just because you have money and your desires. Do you want to know why? Because life is meaningless; you decide the meaning. Because everything is neutral to begin with; you decide if it's positive or not. You can raise your vibration in your new home just because it feels better and you know that you deserve it, younger you deserved it, future you deserves it, your future family deserves the best happy version of you, and nothing and no one has the ability to take that away from you because you create your reality, you decide your vibration every moment. Behold the light, silently appreciate every moment and watch your world expand.

[love-toxin]

yandere argyle & jonathan hcs

cws: yandere themes, throuple, drug use, tw: vomiting + scarification, blood, nc picture-taking, voyeurism, car sex, handjobs, body worship, overstim, homemade porn.

word count: 2.5k

☆ hc / ♡ spicy hc / ♂️♀️ gendered hc / ‼️ dark hc

☆ Their obsessive tendencies come out in different forms; Jonathan is definitely more of a stalker, while Argyle is a worshipper and a love bomber. Unlike other obsessors one might encounter, though, they're largely harmless despite craving your attention like it's air or water. Killing out of jealousy is almost completely out of the question, and so is kidnapping–if anything, those two things are more likely to happen by accident rather than on purpose with these two.

☆ Jonathan pre-relationship is always occupied with watching you. He watches through your windows and snaps hundreds of photos of you, nearly all his film taken up with your pictures. He's got to book out the dark room privately just so he can develop them all in peace and without someone seeing and calling the cops–he really can't have that happen again.

♡ Especially with how many intimate photos he has of you. Changing, showering, dancing around in your room with nothing but a flimsy robe on–and some very, very precious ones of you touching yourself when you forgot to close your blinds. He saves those for special occasions, fingers wrapped around his cock as he dreams about you thinking of him when you do so.

☆ Argyle's love language is spoken through touch and words of affection, which lends itself to his tendency to worship those he adores. Any time he encounters you he'll make sure you remember him, because his feelings about you will just slip out–he'll make it very clear how he feels when he very passionately mumbles an "I'd do anything for you" as you pass each other by, or boldly touch your shoulder as he asks if you're busy and if you wanna go out with him. He may be a bit of a goof, but the man is upfront with what he wants.

♡ And yes, that translates to the bedroom. He loves hard and fast, but only one of those things describe him in the sack–Argyle likes to take his time and prove that he can worship you in a way you'll like. He'll stick his thumb in your mouth and act all cheeky, giving you the impression that he's just gonna play around as he asks you to lick it for him, but things get so real when he slides it deeper into your mouth, leans in, and tells you to bite down if it gets too intense. And then the hand he's got creeping up your thigh goes to work between your legs, and he has you melting between both hands, your own grabbing at his wrist as you drool and your thighs squeeze his unyielding arm. Just don't think that's the end when he makes you cum, because it's not even close. He won't be satisfied until he's made you totally fall apart in his arms as you sob and moan brokenly for him.

☆ When they get you into a relationship? It….mostly stays the same. Except for the fact that Jonathan is a lot more invasive with his photography–all you'll see in the early stages of your relationship is a flash and the sounds of footsteps pattering away from outside your door, and you'll have to chase him down to give him a swat for taking photos of you in the most unflattering position while you're trying to study. Meanwhile, Argyle is laying himself out over your books and notes to distract you enough that you'll cuddle or smoke or listen to some music with him instead. You didn't really think you'd get more privacy being with them, did you?

☆ Nooooooo privacy whatsoever. There's constantly someone walking in on you in the bathroom, when you're changing, while you're cooking or eating or smoking or whatever. They've seen it all babe, there's no reason to fret–even when you're doing embarrassing stuff, like singing in the shower or you have an upset stomach or you're eating some weird weed-fueled concoction that's definitely gonna make you green out. They just roll with it. And Jonathan definitely pulls your hair back when you end up barfing your guts out, pressing kisses to the top of your head to try and soothe you until you're done.

☆ The house almost always stinks of weed, so if you're not a fan or you don't smoke it yourself, it's gonna be a war of attrition to try and dull the smell. Thankfully they're up for whatever you wanna try, whether it be incense or scented candles or a healthy spritz of cheap perfume if you think it'll help. If anything they associate the smells with you, and they'll just get all giddy if someone comments on it when they go out. Sure, it's kinda tacky to stink of both pot and perfume and have it be so obvious that they're trying to cover it up, but who cares? None of those people are you, so they don't matter.

☆ Begging for your attention is a common occurrence. They just can't get enough, no matter if you've spent the night over at their place or held a whole study session or just spent hours hanging out with them, they'll show up mere minutes after you've meandered off to get some food or a drink or gone to the toilet for a touch too long. Showers are even more likely–they could be totally passed out only to come running when they hear the water hitting the porcelain, eager to get their clothes off to join you or just sit in the bathroom and talk if you wanna just wash by yourself. Argyle will talk your ear off about something you're both interested in, and Jonathan will quietly and contently hand you your soap or shampoo or your razor as the two of you chatter on.

☆ Argyle is an absolute cuddle monster. Doesn't matter what state he's in, he shows his love through bear hugs and hands in your hair as you snuggle up next to him in bed. If he thinks someone's looking at you when you're out in public together, he just slides an arm round your shoulders and pulls you into a side hug so you're sheltered beneath him. Just subtly showing off that no, he's not your mascot or your friend–he's yours, and you're his.

☆♀️ He's also got a huge problem with kissing Jonathan in public, especially if he's high. He's just such an affectionate guy, he doesn't always realize how dangerous it is–and while a kiss on the temple or even the cheek can be brushed off or hidden, it's the wet ones he plants right on Jonathan's mouth that draw attention and he has to avoid. Luckily you can usually be quick on your feet, and explain it away to any cringing passersby that your precious, precious boyfriend is just confused, he meant to kiss you! And usher the two of them away somewhere more private to avoid any further suspicion.

♡ You're a different story, though. Argyle's definitely fucked you in his van before, and he'll do it again, company policy be damned. It's not his fault that people keep looking at you, and that guys and girls keep trying to flirt with you while he's around–the best way to show off how much you belong to him is for people to see your sneakered feet hanging over his shoulders, the windshield of the van showing off nothing but his back as he holds your ankles up and makes your world spin. Maybe they'll think twice when they see you stumbling out of the back doors with your clothes haphazardly pulled back on, and his sweater hanging off your shoulders to cover those deep bruises his teeth have left in your skin.

☆ Jonathan mostly shows his ownership over you in very subtle ways. Any photography exhibitions he contributes to always have at least one photo of you included, and as far as being around other people, he often goes the "wearing each other's clothes" route. He's always giving you button ups or hoodies or sweatpants he doesn't wear anymore, hoping beyond hope that he'll see you wearing them soon after so he can see how cute they look on you. And if anyone asks if you're together when you're out, he always nods a little meekly but gets that proud smile as he mumbles a "yeah, they're mine", the bubbly, giddy feeling in his chest hanging around for a long time afterwards.

♡ Jonathan gets so embarrassed by the simplest gestures. A kiss on the neck or a hand on his thigh while he drives/under the table is enough to make him crazy, and he's just clearing his throat and trying not to get too worked up but clearly is blushing like mad. Something as simple as a handjob will make him hold a pillow over his face just to hide, so he doesn't have to see how pretty you look jerking him off and end up embarrassing himself by cumming way too quick. If you really want him to open up, you'll have to sit yourself right in his lap so your faces are barely an inch from each other's, and hold his in your hands so you can kiss him and look into his eyes and coo at him about how big he is and how good it feels inside you. Or, alternatively, you can recruit Argyle to help out by holding Jonathan's arms down while you do as you wish with him, which will result in a lot more kicking feet and bashful cries of "D-Don't look!" and "You're gonna kill me," and "Wait, I'm gonna c-cum again!" all of which have no backbone when he's got your hands and your attention all on him.

♡ On the flipside, Jonathan's clearly a huge voyeur, so he'll get a rush out of watching you–whether by yourself or when you're with Argyle. If you ever agree to it, he'd absolutely lose his mind taking pictures of you posing for him, either completely nude or even playing with yourself if you have the courage. He'll go as far as giving you the code to the safe he's gonna keep them in so you know for sure they're not getting shared with anyone, but it'll be such a treat for him that he'll do just about anything to reward you for giving him such a beautiful, personal gift. Including if you do it with Argyle–both of them will get a huge kick out of that, especially since Argyle gets to pose you how he wants and it's a good excuse to get you all messy with slick and cum and lube to make for an even better picture. Jonathan's favourite is probably one of you getting fucked from behind by your other partner, your eyes rolled back and your hair messy and sticking to your face with sweat, and his hands pinning your shoulders to the bed with his fingers digging into your flesh. And Argyle's favourite is the one where he took the camera out of Jonathan's hands after you finished, and he's holding it one-handed while the other is fisted in the dirty blonde's locks to push his face between your legs–and while you can't see it in the frame, he's eating Argyle's cum out of you with that adorable blush warming his cheeks.

☆ Contact highs are very real, and very frequent. Kissing either of them gets warmer, more passionate, and harder to resist even if they've pissed you off or you've got something else you should be doing. Sometimes they smoke a metric fuckton of weed just before you come in to say hi or ask them for something, just so you'll get cuddly and needy and want to snuggle up between them for awhile cause it makes you all sleepy.

☆ Swear to god, they're like an old married couple. They spend so much time together with you and before you that they know almost all there is to know about each other, and they can be surprisingly lovey-dovey when they're in the privacy of your home. Jonathan makes his pancakes the way he knows he likes, and Argyle reminds him of whatever he's forgetting when he's rushing out the front door without even looking up from his coffee. And their devotion to each other is second only to their devotion to you–they memorize everything they can about your likes and dislikes, your schedule, your dreams, your hobbies, and what movies you like the most paired with how you like your popcorn made.

♡ Anything can be fixed with make-up sex, both boys are sure of that–particularly Argyle. They're likely gonna fuck up here and there and piss you off, especially when they're too overbearing and protective, and when making you your favourite meal or offering to take you out somewhere nice doesn't work, a little bit of stress relief certainly will. A bit of worship and begging and maybe even a puff of a joint later to relax you, and Argyle's head between your legs and Jonathan's hands up your shirt while you're in his lap make all that frustration melt away. Especially since you'll have to tug on Argyle's locks to get him off you when you're too overstimulated to go on, cause he'll just keep going and making you cum on his tongue over, and over, and over again. Until you're totally numb to everything and you don't even remember why you were mad–that's the goal, and you bet they're gonna achieve it.

‼️ Jonathan's been through a lot in particular, so there are times that he'll consider doing something a little more drastic to link you two together–something like cutting your palms in the same spot, to replace the scar he once shared with Nancy. It's not that he dislikes her, but he loves you…and in the back of his mind, he wants to show you that he's totally dedicated to you, to the point that he's willing to reopen an old wound that's still so tender to his heart. It's pretty romantic. But then again, you're probably not that amiable to scarring yourself, so he likely will try to make it seem like an accident. Don't worry, he'll bandage you up all nice and clean you up so he can kiss the wound, and maybe get a little of your blood on him too.

☆ They're one of the more palatable duos: relatively understanding, doting, relaxed, and yet so in love with you that they would both get on their knees for you in a second. And they would quite literally cross the world for you, they'd face monsters and killers and a whole other world just to bring you back if you were dragged away from them. Nothing would stop them from getting you back–nothing.

[sanjithesimp]

“Lights out”

A/n: Ahhh this is sooo hot, like- i can't even

Satoru Gojo x fem reader

w.c: 698 words

WARNING: NSFW (minors DNI). vaginal sex. creampie. overstimulation.

summary: Gojo broke his promise? Are we going to reward him? Of course not.

playlist suggested to listen while you read this <3

“I’m really looking forward for tonight, babe” Gojo said over the phone, he still had tons of work and he damned himself for not doing it earlier, instead of procrastinating and doing dumb things. He was eager to be with you, see you, touch you. He had a pretty demanding work that let him with almost little to none time for his life, but this time he promised he would see you. And nothing would stand in the way of it. This time he would really make it up to you.

“Yeah, me too” You answered dryly, it was the you didn’t know what time he had rescheduled a date with you. You were tired of getting all dolled up for him to call the last minute and said he had to stay until late. It was as if he didn’t want to see you at all, and this time he would definitely pay for all of it.

Everything was almost ready, food, movies, some snacks for later, of course candles, and some romantic music that Gojo had chosen in a silly little playlist.

You had been preparing for this all afternoon. You couldn’t hide the excitement as you got ready, singing to the songs. Suddenly you heard the door open, you jumped a little mostly of happiness.

“I’ve been waiting for this” Gojo said as soon as he entered the apartment, he licked his lips and cleared anything.

You were ready to play, and this time Gojo wouldn’t even see it coming. You welcomed him with a passionate kiss, pressing your hands unto his chest. Waltzing all the way to your room, dinner could wait.

When you got to your room, you pushed him to the bed.

“You will do whatever I say, don’t think you won’t pay for making me wait.” You said, pushing him to the bed.

You sat on his lap, then started to undress him, palming his hard cock under his boxers making him groan as you teased with you hand. He was already half hard as you continued to graze his cock with your hand.

When you thought it was enough, you decided to remove his boxers, revealing his hard cock already drooling with precum. You then started pumping up and down his length. You loved hearing him moan and groan desperately chasing his release.

“P-please, Y/n” Gojo started saying as you started to slowly slide his cock inside you, feeling your velvety walls clench around him.

“Don’t cum until I say you can cum” You whispered in his ear, as you continued to ride him. You rolled your hips on purpose, burying his cock until you felt his tip on that sweet spot, making you moan his name. He gritted his teeth, and with all the strength he had he tried so hard not to cum.

You savored every minute of it, it was sweet revenge from all the times he had made you wait for hours, you had to turn off every candle, one by one as you missed his body on yours. You could feel he was needy, he needed more of your body as he sucked on your neck and nipped your skin.

The feeling of his hands on your nipples, as he pinched and rubbed on them overstimulating them making you coat his cock in your juices. You were also on edge.

And as much as you wanted to making him suffer you had to admit that you had been waiting for a long time for it, so you wouldn’t last much longer.

Your moans and his filled the room, you whimpered as he suckled on your tits. He groaned as you straddled your hips, filling yourself with his cock.

“Cum for me, baby” You whispered in his ear, wanting to feel his hot seed inside you, and dripping down your thighs.

Gojo then filled you completely with his cum as he bucked his hips filling you with his cock as you clenched on it, trying to keep every drop of his seed on you.

“Fuck baby, I’m never going to be late again…or maybe I will” He said as you both plopped on the bed.

[nameless-ken]

Eddie Munson Series

Summary: You never had the courage to chase your dreams until you met Eddie, who helped you discover a life full of spontaneity, passion and maybe a little too much rock n roll. 

Prologue

Warnings: swearing

Words: 1.5K

Masterlist

What Dreams Are Made Of

This isn’t what you had planned for the night. Sitting in a dingy bar with loud music and crowds of drunken college kids trying to feel anything besides their dread of their futures. You’re sitting around a table with your friends. Well, acquaintances since you can’t stand half of them. You tag along with the group because they’re the only ones studying Law like you. 

You sip on a beer, trying to drown yourself in the alcohol. You haven’t been feeling like yourself lately. It’s been a confusing time for you. Law school has been tough and your dad has been on your case making sure you don’t get lower than an A- in every class. 

Sitting here now, with a group of rich, prodgies makes you want to jump off a cliff but you stick it out anyways. It’s either this or studying constitutional law and legal methods for another night. 

You stand up, walking over to the bar to get another beer. You pass by the stage as a new band is walking by to set up. You almost trip over a wire that is thrown across the floor until a pair of hands saves your fall. 

“You alright there babe?” You stand back up, seeing the most gorgeous head of curly hair staring back at you. 

“Yeah, fine.” You step back from the stranger. 

“Let’s move this out of the way.” He picks up the wire you tripped over and moves it closer to the stage. “Can’t have another pretty girl fall into my arms now can we?” 

“Right.” You feel your cheeks heat up from his compliment of you. “Are you playing?” You gesture toward the stage. 

“Yeah. I’m in Corroded Coffin. Play this beauty.” He holds up his electric guitar. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand. You weren’t expecting that since not many people do that anymore. 

“Y/N.” You reach out, shaking his hand.

The noise around you disappears suddenly and you glance down at your connected hands, feeling something unknown inside you. You slip your hand out of his first, clasping your hands together to forget that weird feeling of your skin against his. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Need another beer?” He doesn’t give you time to answer before turning around toward the bar. “Hey! Matt! Get this pretty lady a beer!” Eddie turns back to you with a wide smile. 

“On me.” Eddie nods at you, sending a peace sign before hopping on stage. You walk over to the bar collecting your free drink before taking a seat on one of the empty stools. 

The familiar start to ‘You Give Love a Bad Name’ by Bon Jovi rings out from the stage. That’s a powerful song to do a cover off but it’s not as bad as you thought. You watch Eddie take over the stage with his electric guitar. You’ve been to concerts before but watching the way he plays and riles up the crowd isn’t like what you’ve seen before. He moves around the stage like he owns it. 

You don’t take your eyes off of him until you realize the song has ended and his eyes meet yours. You look away quickly, turning back to face the bar. 

“Need another?” Eddie appears beside you, leaning against the bar top facing your side. 

“I shouldn’t. Big test tomorrow.” 

“Oh, you go here?” Eddie gets a beer for himself, sitting on the stool next to you. 

“Sadly.” You joke, spinning on your seat to face him. 

“What does that mean? Law school not exciting enough for you?” He laughs and you can’t help but smile. 

“It means I’m here to become another rich prodigy to make my parents happy.” 

“But it doesn’t make you happy?” Your smile fades from his question. You shrug your shoulders, not wanting to get into this with someone you don’t know. 

“Come with me.” Eddie stands up, holding his hand out to you. 

“What? I don’t know you.” 

“You can trust me. Please, let me show you.” You glance down at his hand, feeling a rush of adrenaline take over. Fuck it. You say to yourself, grabbing his hand in yours again.

Eddie drops your hand as you both step out of the bar and he turns to walk down the sidewalk. You step in line next to him. You don’t know what it is about him but you have that feeling inside of you that makes you feel warm. 

“Where are you taking me?” You look over at him as he rounds the corner of the building at the end of the street. 

“Here.” Eddie points to a door and opens it, allowing you to go first. You step inside the darkness, stilling at the quietness. 

“This way.” Eddie grabs your hand again, leading you up a flight of stairs. 

“Where are we?” Even though you whisper, your voice echoes through the empty stairwell. 

“A place that may remind you what dreams are made of.” Eddie opens a metal door at the top of the stairs and pulls you through onto the roof. 

“I thought this building was off limits.” 

“It is but who cares.” Eddie releases your hand as he walks further onto the roof. 

“We could get caught.” You whisper, stopping in your tracks. 

“Oh, lighten up buttercup. As long as you’re with me, nothing’s going to happen.” Eddie winks at you and you look around loving how clearly you can see the night sky. 

“So, how is this supposed to remind me what dreams are made of?” You take slow steps toward him as he leans against the brick ledge. 

“Well, this is where I was when I decided to start a band.” He explains.

“Here? It’s not the most magical place.” You look around seeing an old, dirty mattress and boxes in one corner of the roof. 

“I joined a band before I started my own and this is where I went after I got into an argument with the lead singer of that band. We didn’t see eye to eye and I couldn’t take it anymore. This is where I was when I decided to go after my own dream.” 

“How successful was the other band?” You lean against the ledge beside him. 

“Oh highly. They got signed actually right after I left.” Eddie laughs, spinning around to rest both arms against the ledge. 

“And the one you’re in now?” You hesitantly ask, looking up at him. 

“We mostly just drive around, playing at any place that’ll take us.” 

“And you’re okay with that?” You look up at him dumbfoundedly. 

“Yeah. I don’t care as long as I’m doing something that makes me happy. I was miserable before and now I get to travel the country with my closest friends and play some rad music.” You don’t say anything else, taking in the view.

“You know, the world often tries to push you in a direction that seems right or smart. What I’ve learned is that you have to lean into what feels good and you have to take risks and listen to yourself even when it seems scary.” 

You glance up at Eddie, feeling his words hit something inside of you. A deep part of you that you’ve pushed down for a long time. 

“Is it really that simple?” 

“As simple as it can be.” Eddie bumps your arms with his and smiles. “So, what’s your dream?” 

You look back out amongst the dark sky, feeling your desire pulling you away from what your parents have planned for you since you were born. 

“I love photography.” You admit to the stranger you just met. 

“Well, why don’t you go after that?” Eddie watches your face as you look down, eyebrows sunken in. 

“I have to study law.” 

“No you don’t.” Eddie replies firmly as you turn to face him. 

“According to my parents, I do.” 

“Fuck ‘em.” Eddie whispers between you. 

“What?” You laugh slightly, surprised by his statement. 

“Fuck ‘em.” He repeats with a wide smile. “Say it.” 

“What? No!” You giggle, watching as he spins around, grabbing your arm to spin you with him. 

“Say it.” Eddie stops spinning you and places his hands on top of your shoulders. “It’ll feel good.” 

“Fuck ‘em!” You try your best to yell but it comes out weak. 

“Again!” Eddie takes your hand and spins you around.

“Fuck ‘em!” You scream louder, laughing as you stumble over your feet. Eddie catches you again, laughter syncing together. 

“Come with me.” Eddie holds your hand in his. “Come chase your dreams before it’s too late.” 

“I-I don’t know.” You let go of his hand, wrapping your arms around yourself, feeling your anxiety and fear of disappointing your parents creep up from the darkest pit inside of you. 

“This is your one chance to be fearless Y/N.” Eddie steps closer to you, trying to convince you. “Don’t let it slip away.”

You look up at him, the thoughts in your mind fighting each other. What if it never works out and you end up working a dead-end job, with no stable income and end up pregnant with some loser’s baby? But, what if it leads you to the best places in life and allows you to have the freedom you’ve always wished for? You’ve been in law school for a year already. Maybe it’s time to take some time off to explore another option? 

“When do we leave?”

Taglist: @eddiemunsons-girl​ @morgandamrose @iheartmunsonedd​ @equuleus86

Comment below to be added! (wouldn’t let me tag those in bold italicized.) 

[softjakehoon]

My Roommate Who Uses an XL Condom pt. 1

pairing: Jay/Reader

includes: slight edging, deep throat, cum in mouth, rough sex, breeding kink, roommate sex

warning: this is a written smut, if you don’t like reading stuff like this, scroll down for your sake please it’s not that complicated, thank you. 

also, this was inspired by a manga called "Joushi no Asoko wa XL size" and it's the part about the xl condom thingy, which would be on the second part though. and of course, our y'n being a product reviewer. the rest are based on my imagination.

----

You've been searching for a part-time job for a couple of hours now, but most of the jobs available are full-time shifts. You're in your fourth year in college and you're pretty much occupied with all of the school works and activities that's why you resigned from your previous customer service job. You have no choice but to choose a job that will allow you to manage your own time. It's not like you wanted to do this out of boredom. You have to support yourself to afford your tuition fees and daily expenses. Your parents are both senior citizens so you had to work right after you turned 18.

"Product reviewer? No way, this sounds too good to be true."

One-week deadline per product.

Flexible work schedule. 

Salary offer $1000 per review.

You didn't hesitate to submit your application. You have to get this job or you won't be able to pay rent. You don't even have anything to eat for this week. You sighed at your current situation. You went to the shower room to clean up before going to bed. 

---

You woke up around 8 am, starving. You went to the kitchen to find something to eat. You were surprised to see the fridge full of actual food to eat. 

"Am I dreaming? How is the fridge full of food when it was empty last night?" You grabbed a tub of marinated beef and began cooking. 

"Fuck, when was the last time I ate meat? I've only been eating ramen and junk food lately. No wonder I feel like shit." You laughed at your own misery. You were cut off by the sound of the door opening. You don't remember inviting anyone over to your apartment. You don't have a roommate as well so you started to feel nervous. 

"Who is it?" You shouted while chewing on the meat you wrapped with lettuce. 

You turned your head around to see a man around your age wearing all black and a frown on his face. 

"Who are you?" He asked you back. 

"I asked you a question first. Why do you have a key to my apartment?" This time, you went to speak to him up close. You're near-sighted so you wanted to see him up close. 

"I'm Jay. I moved in last night. Are you my roommate?" He kept his cold expression. 

He's handsome as fuck, but cold as hell. You thought to yourself. Too bad. 

"Oh, that must be why the fridge is full this morning. Fuck, sorry I cooked the beef bulgogi just now. I will pay you back once I get paid from my job." You looked down from embarrassment. 

"That's alright." He didn't even bother to ask your name and went to his room. You didn't want to bug him about it since you still owe him a tub of beef so you just shrugged your shoulder and finished your breakfast. 

While eating, you checked on your email for updates. 

"Holy fuck." Your jaw dropped upon reading an email. It was from the company you applied to last night. You got the job, and you're starting today. 

You signed the contract immediately and submitted all the needed requirements. Your first product will arrive in the afternoon so you couldn't help but be excited while washing the dishes. 

After doing the dishes, you decided to do the laundry. You've been going braless in the apartment when you were still alone but you have a male roommate now so you can't do that anymore. You needed to wash them. 

"Fuck, I ran out of shorts as well? What have I been doing all this time to forget doing my laundry?"

You decided to wear an oversized almost see-through white shirt and black underwear. 

While you were putting your clothes in the front load washing machine, you heard him pretending to cough. 

You dropped the clothes upon hearing that and looked around to see him piercing you with his eyes staring straight at your body. 

"What do you think are you doing?" He said, raising his eyebrows. 

"I'm doing my laundry. Are you blind?" You looked to your side, afraid of meeting his eyes. 

He stood in front of you, "I'm not. In fact I'm very much pleased of what I'm seeing right now." You gulped when he touched your chin and forced you to look into his eyes. 

"What are you doing?" You're starting to get nervous, or turned on. You don't know anymore. Is it because you haven't had sex for so long now? Fuck, you know you can't have sex with your roommate. You know damn well how it would end since your ex was also your roommate before. 

"I'm making you look at my face. Ever since we met you've been avoiding my gaze." He smirked at you, turning you on even more. 

"T-that's because you look scary, dude. Geez, get your hands off me or I will punch your face so I won't have any reason to look at it." You tried to push him away only for him to corner you on the wall with his arms locking you in. 

"Don't call me that. Or I will kiss you right now." You knew he wasn't bluffing. But for some reason, you wanted to kiss him as well. So you called him that. 

"Stop playing around, dude. Can't you see I'm busy doing someth-" You were cut off by his lips on yours. It stayed still for a short moment as if he was trying to see how you would react. But when he sensed you closing your eyes, he began to move his lips along with yours.

It was a sweet and passionate kiss as if he knew you all his life. It felt so good, you couldn't help but pull his hair, making the kiss deeper. His right hand holding your face along with your jaw, his left hand holding your waist, keeping you close to his body. You could feel your core starting to get wet from the heat that you're feeling, making you rub your thighs together. Taking the hint, Jay placed his knee in the middle and closed the distance between your body. You're now grinding on his thighs, desperately looking for friction and release. 

"Are we just gonna kiss all day or are you going to fuck me?" You pulled away from the kiss and chased your breath.

"I thought you said you're busy." He smirked again. 

"Well now I'm not." You kissed him again, this time with so much lust and desire. Jay is incredibly handsome, he's tall and has a nice body as well. Normally, you don't hang out with guys like him because you know they're always into pretty girls, but you don't want to think about it for now. 

"Relax, baby. I'll get you nice and ready first." He grabbed your breasts as soon as he removed your shirt, sucking on your nipples while his right hand palming your core. 

"I guess I don't even need to. You're soaking wet already. Is this all for me, babe?" He removed your last piece of clothing and slipped two fingers inside you. 

"Fuck, Jay. Shut up already and put it in.” You can't help but moan as he slips his fingers in and out of you.

“Stop bossing me around, brat.” There was a sudden change in his aura, his fingers thrusting in and out of you now roughly. 

“Damn it, I wanna cum on your cock, please. Fuck me already.” You begged. You’re about to reach your climax under his touch. All of a sudden, he removed his fingers making you bite your lips in frustration.

“What the hell? Why did you sto-” You were cut off when he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pushing you down on your knees. He immediately removed his belt and tied your hands with it. You stared at him with your puppy eyes while waiting for him to remove his clothes.

He pumped his cock a couple of times before squeezing your cheeks, a sign for you to open your mouth. You were taken aback by the size of his cock in your tiny mouth. You can’t even touch him to support yourself, so he was holding you by your hair and fucking your mouth as he wants. 

“See, this is what your mouth is for. It’s not for you to talk back, or be a brat. This mouth is meant for my cock.” Tears pooled in your eyes as the tip of his dick hits your throat every time he would thrust. You were able to get rid of your gag reflex, thanks to your ex.

“Fuck, how are you so good at this? I fucking love your mouth. You’ve got no gag reflex? Fucking insane, ahh.” He’s growling at this point. You can tell he’s close as the veins in his dick are getting more prominent and it’s twitching inside your mouth.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” After a couple of thrusts, he came down your throat. You gladly swallowed his cum, making sure nothing goes to waste.

“Shit, brat. You better remember how I taste.” He said, untying your hands from his belt. He helped you to stand, kissing you while placing you on top of the counter. 

He took no time in aligning himself into your core. He gathered your wetness using the tip of his dick and finally pushed it in. You can definitely feel the stretch but the pleasure goes beyond the pain at this point. You were moaning softly against his ear. 

“Fuck, you feel so tight around me.” His thrust getting steady and rougher each time.

“You feel so good, Jay. I’m gonna cum.” You’re finally getting the release he denied you earlier.

“That’s right, cum on my cock.” You moaned in response. Your walls tightening around him even more, making him meet his nearing climax for the second time.

“Cum with me, Jay. Come inside me, please.” You were on birth control anyway. You were on an injectable contraceptive and it’s still in effect ‘til now. You will probably need to ask him if he’s fucking around later on but you really wanted to have his cum inside you. Hearing you beg for his cum was music to his ears. After easing you from your high with a couple of thrusts, he came right after. You felt his dick twitch inside you, his cum spreading heat in your walls. He pulled out seconds after, making his cum leak out of you.

Jay swore he took a mental image of it in his mind. You looked so hot, all fucked out because of him. You, on the other hand, waited for him to help you get off the counter.

Which he didn’t do. He put on his clothes and went straight to the bathroom to clean himself. 

“What a jerk. Did he just leave me here after all that?” You tried not to feel too disappointed. Still, it made you feel angry. He could’ve at least helped you. “I’m never having sex with you again, asshole.” You said just enough for him to hear you in the bathroom.

Author’s note: Jay’s point of view will be on the second part. He’s a gentleman pls.