#that's not what this is but i just think he would do that

[taeghi]

let's collab | (m)

⇰ summary : you've always vied for the top spot on onlyfans but "hluvsbabes" makes it tough with his undeniable charm and looks. when you unexpectedly meet him you realize he's even more captivating up close. despite the competition, you find yourself unable to turn down his one request.

⇰ pairing : camboy!heeseung x camgirl!y/n

⇰ genre : smut!! masturbation, vibrators lol, dirty talk, oral, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, praise, sir kink, spanking, brief spitting and hair pulling lol.

⇰ word count : 10k (8k of it is just pure, filthy smut) !!!

⇰ taglist : @criminalyun @princeseung @seokseokjinkim @loveydoveyhee @immelissaaa @iselltulips @strxwbloody @ensaz008 @loavibeycipoosan @liwugy @starfallia @you-make-skz-stay @ineedsomezzz @heeshlove @niniissus @mirramirra @skzenhalove @fandom-freak-geek @lilifiedeans @woahhhhaw @cchangli @enhabooks @heelovesmeknot @fakeuwus @soobinsnovia101 @river-demon-slayer @jjklvr9 @hanjisunginc @iamliacamila @jaylaxies

mdni

you started ‘darlingdove01’ when you needed some extra cash in your second year of college. at first you didn’t show your face at all and you were nervous that someone you knew was going to find out. godforbid your parents found out about your sex work. 

over time, you started to get more comfortable in front of the camera and started to show your face. though you never said your real name. you had started to get a close following and were at the top of the creators of the week every week. the way it worked was that the longer you were number one, the more increase of pay you got. though, you had never been number 1 for more than one week at a time. 

all thanks to hluvsbabes. 

it seemed that every week you and hluvsbabes would alternate who was number one. no matter what new things you tried to increase your audience and views, the next week you were back at number two. 

the day that you were fed up with always being put back to second was the day that you would very soon regret. 

you were lazily scrolling through the app when you noticed hluvsbabes had just started streaming, so, you clicked onto the livestream. 

and there he was. hluvsbabes shirtless with his hard cock pulled out of his pants and sitting in between his fist. his pale skin gleamed against his computer screen light, showing off his abs. he had a black mask covering the lower part of his face. his bangs fell into his squinted eyes as he casually pumped his cock up and down in his fist. 

you couldn’t stop your jaw from going slack as you took in the sight before you. you could tell his mouth was in a playful smirk as he watched the comments fly. suddenly a tip of 20$ flew in the corner of the screen : “take ur pants off pls”. 

you could hear his dark chuckle through your speakers, “mmm, only because you said please.” 

you watched him do as the viewer asks. he dug his thumbs into his pants and boxers and pulled them down to reveal his pale legs that matched the rest of his body. 

he seemed so confident and casual as he sat in his chair fully nude, as if 8,000 people weren’t watching him right now. 

“is that better for you?” his voice asked with a tone of amusement. you watched him laugh as all the comments immediately filled with variations of “yes”. “what else do you want me to do? tell me.” the comments were instantly filled with nasty things that you have to admit you also wanted him to do. 

you had figured hluvsbabes was hot since he was always top one or two, but you didn’t think he would look like this. and that his voice would be so seductive. 

“i won’t be taking off my mask, guys.” hluvsbabes shakes his head with a chuckle, he’s just so amused with his fans. along with his fans you also wished he took off his mask. you would love to see the mouth that formed such seductive words. 

suddenly, a tip came up in the corner of the screen of 100$, “start jerking ur cock, baby”. your jaw dropped at the amount of the tip. you had only ever received 100$ worth a few times in the past two years. hluvsbabes didn’t even seem that shocked by the amount as he did as he was told. 

his hand started to move faster up and down his hard cock. the tip of his cock looked so red and swollen in the light of his computer screen. 

“will you spit on it for me, baby?” hluvsbabes whines out and you instantly shut your legs together. 

the comments are gradually picking up pace, commenting demands and praises, asking questions for him to answer. you can hear his deep grunts through your speakers as he keeps his bang covered eyes on the comments. 

a 15$ tip pops up in the corner again; “tell me i’m ur good girl pls”. 

hluvsbabes amusingly shakes his head, “of course you're my good girl. do you have your fingers in your panties? how wet are you? tell me how wet you are, good girl.” 

you’re in shock from his words, the comments, the amount of tips and from how hot hluvsbabes is. 

his deep laugh distracts you from your thoughts. he throws his head back on the chair’s headrest, making his bangs reveal his forehead. even with his mask on, you can tell that his mouth is open agape from the pleasure he’s feeling. 

“fuck, guys. i’ve been thinking about this– about you all day. my dick has been hard since my morning class.” 

the thought of him having to walk around with a hard cock all day because he thought of getting off in front of thousands of people only turns you on more. he continues to move his hand up and down his cock, his grunts getting louder and louder. 

“i-i’m getting close. i wish you were here to taste my cum, shit.” 

it was getting to the point where you couldn’t ignore the tingly feeling starting to increasingly grow in the pit of your stomach. you felt entranced by him, not being able to take your eyes off of your screen. you had only planned to watch a couple of minutes just to see what the hype was about, but now you’ve been watching him for close to twenty minutes. you lean onto your desk uncaringly over your keyboard and your heart stops when you see : 

darlingdove01 : ghj

your eyes widen at your username in the comment section, praying to god none of his 15k viewers notices. 

“oh, darlingdove is in here,” hluvsbabes’s voice speaks suddenly, making you jolt away from your computer screen and grab the handles of your chair. he tilts his head and looks directly into the camera as he continues, “how are you, darling? do you like the show? do you like watching me get off?” 

you are in shock and you can’t think of what to do. you never thought you would be in a situation like this. you notice all the comments start filling up with your name as hluvsbabes is still stroking his cock and groaning. 

“maybe she’s too busy with her hands to type right now.” hluvsbabes jokes in a grunted laugh. you cover your mouth with your hands in shock. and you read one comment that says “who can blame her?”. 

and with that, you immediately leave the one and only hluvsbabes livestream you have ever watched, the embarrassment being almost too much.

a few days and a lot of thoughts of hluvsbabes later, you know you have to get back to livestreaming. you had planned a few things for your next live stream despite being busy with college and being distracted by the memories of hluvsbabes. 

the way ‘darling’ slipped from his mouth so casually and sensual. 

usually, people only referred to you as ‘dove’. you didn’t anticipate for darling to be so efficacious. but maybe it was only because hluvsbabes had said it. the way it sounded in his smooth, mischievous tone. it kept you up at night. 

tonight, you had to live stream on your account. 

you started at your usual time; 10pm, in your usual setting; your bedroom. your nightside lamp was lit behind you, being your only source of light besides your computer screen. your body was covered by an oversized hoodie which covered your panties and the top of your bare thighs. 

“hi everyone,” you spoke into your microphone, looking at the rising amount of viewers on your live stream. the comments started piling in, regular questions about yourself mixed with sexual ones that made you laugh to yourself. “my week was good, thank you. how has your week been, guys?” 

you read some of the comments, recognizing some of the usernames that comment. and when you notice a steady amount of viewers and when the comments start teasing you and begging you to start, you begin. 

“tonight,” you start, and sit back in your computer chair, “i think i’ll have some fun with my new toy.” you reach out of the camera’s view and grab the toy you had bought earlier in the week. it was a long, white vibrator. you take your time to show the camera the entire toy, smiling proud of it. “what should we name him?” you giggle out, reading the comments as they flood with names and praises and begging. 

you sit back in your chair, “he has three settings, should i start with the lowest? see how wet he can get me?” you ask, your voice teasing. tips start to come in, telling you to turn it on, telling you that they want to see you cum. 

with a flick of your thumb you turn it onto the lowest setting. a low buzzing sound fills your bedroom, entering the mic for your audience to hear. you lift your feet so they rest on the chair, your knees up in the air. your hoodie bunches at your waist for your panties and bare legs to be revealed. you press the vibrator against your clit over top of your panties, testing it. 

“oh god,” you moan, “even the lowest setting is good.” you inform your audience, keeping your eyes on the camera and comments. you giggle when you read a tip that tells you to move it in circles. “want me to move it? want to watch me pleasure myself?” the comments flood with yes’s. 

you start to move the vibrator in slow, small circles around your clit. wanting to tease yourself and the audience for as long as possible. you would be lying if you said it didn’t feel good. the feeling of the vibrator against your pulsing clit and the eyes of hundreds of people watching you in real time. 

a tip catches your eye; 

heesacc tipped 50$! : that looks like it feels good, darling. why don’t you move up a setting.

your eyes linger on the word darling and the large tip they gave you. 

“okay, let’s put it up to the medium setting.” you agree, your finger flicking the button up. the buzzing becomes louder as the toy starts moving faster. your hand still moves the vibrator in slow, small circles over your panties. “fuck, this is even better, baby.” 

you read comments that compliment you, that tell you they wanna see you cum right now, that you should remove your clothes. 

“want me to take my clothes off?” you tease the camera, your free hand playing with hem of your oversized sweater. “tell me what you want me to take off.” the comments tell you that they want you naked, that your sweater should come off, that everything should come off. 

heesacc tipped 50$! : take your sweater off and play with your tits, darling. rub your nipples and pretend it’s me.

“wanna see my tits? wanna see me play with them just for you?” you bite your lip at the tip, but do as they said, putting down the vibrator for a second as you pull the sweater off your core. your breasts being revealed to the audience. you look at yourself in the mirror, noticing the large wet stain on your panties from your juices and the vibrator. “oh my god, look wet i am.” you wiggle so your panties can be seen better on camera. the large wet stain evident in the computer screen’s light. “this is how good you make me feel.” 

you read the comments that say they wish they were there beside you, that they want to rip your panties off. 

you pick up the vibrator again, still on the medium setting. your one hand holds the vibrator steady against your covered clit, as your free hand comes up and starts to tweak your nipples. your forefinger and thumb hook your nipple, rolling it. you let out moans at the feeling, your back arching off your chair naturally. 

“fuck, i love playing with my nipples, it turns me on so much.” you state honestly, switching between nipples with your fingers. 

heesacc tipped 70$! : let’s see how swollen your pretty pussy is, darling. 

you gulped as you read the tip come through. just reading the words sent a shiver straight to your core. you swore your pussy got so much wetter as you finished reading it. 

you set the vibrator down again, “you wanna see my pussy, baby? wanna see how wet and swollen you got it?” you tease the camera, your hand dragging across your panties. with the multiple “yes”’s commenting, you start to slowly slide your panties off your legs, showing the camera the larger wet stain on them. 

you lean back in your chair again, the same position with your feet on the chair and knees up, but this time your pussy was visible to the camera. your hand glides down between your legs. you keep your eyes on the camera as your fingers slide through your lips so easily. you whine when your fingers rub over your sensitive clit. “i’m so wet, fuck. you could slip right in. stretch out my tight pussy. god, i need that so bad. need to be stretched out.” 

you reach for the vibrator again, “let’s see how long i can last on the high setting. i’m so close already.” you giggle out to your audience. 

you turn the vibrator to the highest setting, the toy buzzing in your hand as you bring it to your bare pussy. instantly you throw your head back, crying out at the pleasure. your other hand massaging your breast. 

heesacc tipped 100$! : cum like a good girl, darling. 

“oh god!” your eyebrows pull together from the pleasure. your knees start to buckle as the pleasure starts to take over you. “i’m gonna cum! fuck, i’m cumming.” you nod your head and try to keep your eyes on the camera as you hit your high. your bare chest heaves as your orgasm washes through your body, struggling to keep the vibrator on your clit from oversensitivity. 

when your head clears and your body relaxes, you manage to say goodbye to your audience, that you’ll see them again next time. you end the livestream, your eyes reading the tips, resting on the username ‘heesacc’. you had never seen them before, but they tip generously throughout the entire livestream. 

and they kept calling you darling.

you always had to get coffee before class. but your usual coffee shop had a line out the door today, so you had to go to one on campus that you’ve never been to before. though you knew you’d probably be late to class now, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sit through the two hour lecture without your daily coffee. 

you’re distracted by the menu of unfamiliar drinks that you don’t hear the barista question if you’re ready to order until the third time he says it. 

“oh sorry,” you tell him, shaking your head to wake up, “uh, could i get the blonde vanilla latte, please?” you tell the barista. you start to dig through your backpack for some money. 

“darlingdove01?” his voice questions, recognition definite in his voice. 

your head snaps up to look at the barista properly for the first time. your username making your ears and cheeks paint red. “uhh, yeah!” you’ve only been recognized in public a few times, and they’ve usually been at parties or get together, never in a public public place before. 

the barista has dark brown hair that’s covering his forehead. his eyes are big, doe-like and expressive. his features are sharp and delicate at the same time. his complexion is so smooth in the harsh coffee shop lights. “oh, cool.” his voice is smooth as he shrugs, almost impressed. “that’ll be 5.49$, please.” 

so shocked, you scramble to pile some change on the counter, dropping it for him to pick it up. you smile with a faint nod before you walk away for the next person behind you to order. 

you take deep breaths as you wait for your order, telling yourself that it’s okay, that that could’ve gone a lot worse. you weren’t used to people looking at you in public, that’s why you chose to stay behind a screen. 

“blonde vanilla latte!” the barista calls out a few minutes later. you go up and take the cup from him. “have a good day.” he’s polite, and his eyes tell you something that you don’t quite pick up. 

you turn away from the counter, ready to get the hell out of his coffee shop. you glance down at your drink, noticing words written in black on the side. 

let’s collab, hluvsbabes

with his number written underneath.  you turn your head to look back at the barista, but find a woman working the cashier instead. the brown haired boy disappeared from sight. you think back from the one and only hluvsbabes stream you had seen of his. he had kept his bangs over his eyes, hiding how doe-eyed they really were. his mask covered the entirety of his lower face. there was no way to know if the barista was really the hluvsbabes, but his eyes seemed to tell you that he was. that he knew who you were, too.

your fingers hover over your phone’s keyboard. the apparent hluvsbabes’s phone number typed in above, but the message box left empty. you decide to bite the bullet, even if it wasn’t him, all you had to do was block him after and then act like this never, ever happened. 

youhi, uh hluvsbabes? 

only a few minutes pass before you get a response. 

(123) - ***-**** hahaha yeah but you can call me heeseung

(123) - ***-****

hi, darlingdove01!

you

how’d you know it’s me? my name’s y/n btw

heeseung

bc you’re the only one i’ve given my number out to lately

heeseung

and bc i knew you’d text me sooner rather than later ;)

you smile, rolling over onto your back, your phone in the air as you text hluvs- heeseung back. 

you

damn, i knew i should’ve waited a month

heeseung

noooo i’m glad you texted me

heeseung 

i wanted you to text me 

you

righttt, you said something about a collab? 

heeseung

yeahh, i think you should come over sometime soon 

you could hear your heart strumming against your chest at his text. the hluvsbabes wanted to collab with you. you had only been competing against each other on onlyfans for months. and neither of you had done a collab before, solely solo stuff. you wondered if it’d be a good idea or not. 

heeseung

c’mon, you know i can make you feel good ;)

you were leaning towards it being a good one.

later in the week you found yourself outside of hluvsbabes apparent apartment. he had only lived a quick bus ride away from you, both of you living close to your university campus. you were biting your fresh manicure the whole bus ride there. 

heeseung had texted you to make sure you knew he wasn’t expecting anything from you. that he just wanted to get to know you, and hey, if a collab happened then it happened! 

though he was very polite and tried his best to reassure you and make you comfortable, you were still nervous to go to a guy’s house that you had seen masturbate before. you had heard what he sounds like when he masturbates. you had thought about his voice and his moans so many times since the “incident”. you were going to a boy’s house that you had cursed at so many times when you saw that he had passed you yet again in subscribers every few weeks. 

you knock on the apartment number’s door that he had given you. you waited a few quick heartbeats until the door opened. 

there stood the barista you had seen a few days ago. his doe-eyes the same and his long bangs covering his forehead. 

“y/n?” he spoke, a smile on his lips that made him seem even prettier than you remembered. 

you tried to picture what hluvsbabes would look like so many times, and now that you finally got a chance to see him, standing in front of you, letting you in his apartment, you were in shock. 

he was so much hotter than you could have ever imagined– now that you weren’t embarrassed in public when someone said your username outloud. 

“wanna come in or stand in the hall all day?” he spoke again, his eyebrow propped up. 

“oh!” you jolted, “sorry, sorry– i’ll come in.” you tell him, smiling at him as he held the door for you and closed once you were in. 

a quick glance around the apartment and you noticed how clean and home-y it looked. a regular couch, coffee table and tv took up one side of the apartment. and on the other side was a small island in the small kitchen. there was a hall on the far side of the room from you– which you figured led to his bedroom. (the room where he masturbates online for money– oh god!) 

“you can sit down on the couch if you want,” heeseung gestures to the couch, wiping his sweaty palms on his gray sweatpants, “do you want a drink or anything?” 

“uh no, i’m good thanks,” you reply, sitting down on the couch, your hands clasping together in your lap. 

as he sits down beside you on the couch, you think about how after you had texted him the other day you had seen he was live on onlyfans– and how you made sure to not press it. the thought of him seeing you watching his livestream again made you physically cringe. 

“so uh,” heeseung starts, a casual smile on his face as he looks at you, “have you thought? about my offer? about the collab?” 

you nod, “i have,” 

“right, well, we don’t have to do it if you don’t want– like i said. we can just hang out– i just saw you and i needed to give you my number i couldn’t just–,” 

“i wanna do it.” 

heeseung’s eyes widen at your answer, “really? only if you’re comfortable.” 

you nod, “yeah, i want to.” 

heeseung’s body relaxes at your words, “okay, when?” 

“right now?” you shrug at him, “i mean you usually stream soon anyways, right?” 

heeseung thought his mind was gonna explode. the hot girl that he’s competed with for top creator was sitting in front of him on his couch, telling him that she wants to collab with him. she could collab with anyone, but she wanted to collab with him. he couldn’t believe what was happening. 

“o-kay,” heeseung stutters and clears his throat, “uh, is there anything you're specifically into– or not into? i mean i’ve seen your streams so i know some things but i-,” 

“you’ve seen my streams?” you ask him confused and intrigued. 

heeseung fights the urge to slap himself, “i mean, yeah. you’re always top creator right?” 

“right, i just didn’t think that you’d watch them, i don’t know.” 

“why wouldn’t i watch them? you’re hot and you know how to engage with the audience.” heeseung admits honestly. 

you squirm at his compliment. “you’re hot, too.” 

heeseung seemingly relaxes completely at this, finally being able to comprehend what’s happening and what you’re thinking. “thank you, i mean i know you’ve seen my streams before, you commented once.” 

you cover your face with your hands, “oh god.” you groan out. 

heeseung laughs at you, “what? is it bad that you’ve watched me masturbate?” 

“no!” you shake your head quickly, eyes wide, “it’s just– i didn’t mean to comment that time– i didn’t even mean to press it! it’s just, just…” 

“i’m just that hot?” heeseung teases you, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“oh my god, shut up!” you laugh, shoving his shoulder. it’s then that you realize how close you’ve gotten on his couch. 

heeseung laughs harder, his face turning serious again when he speaks, “okay but seriously, anything you are or aren’t into?” 

you settle into your spot on the couch and think, “uh, i think i’m okay with anything.” you shrug, “but no anal though. and i’m more into, it being rough.” 

heeseung smirks and asks, “okay no anal. how about choking?” you nod in response, “slapping?” another nod from you, “how about degrading?” you blush and nod. 

“i’m okay with everything but anal, heeseung.” 

“okay, and if you wanna stop, should we come up with a safe word?” 

you ponder for a second and think, “how about, latte?”

heeseung smirks at you, “latte it is, then.” 

both of you stare at each other, lust and playfulness filling your expressions. somehow, your faces are only mere inches apart now as both of you take in the other’s features. you had only seen each other through a computer screen before. had only read each other's usernames on the top creators list– without even knowing your real names. and now you were about to give each other everything– including your first collab. 

your breath quiets as you look into heeseung’s eyes, scanning the brown in them before glancing down at his pretty lips. your lips are just centimeters away from his when he speaks again, “let’s start.” 

heeseung grabs your hand and pulls you up, guiding you down the hall and into his bedroom. he leans over his computer, setting up his account and livestream. you take the time to look around his room. 

his room is definitely the same one you’ve seen on live steam. the multiple monitors on his computer desk. a basic bed with a black and white comforter. and you recognized the few posters on his walls that he allowed to be seen in his lives. 

“okay, it’s ready.” heeseung tells you, “are you sure you wanna do this? we can stop whene–”

“i’m sure, heeseung.” 

“okay, i’ll press start live then,” 

“wait!” you reach for his shoulder, “what about your mask?” you know he’s never gone live without his mask– it’s the one thing that helps keep his identity unknown.

heeseung simply shrugs at you, “i mean, i can’t really eat you out with a mask on, can i?” 

your mouth drops open, but before you can say anything, the camera light flicks on, signaling that you’re live. the camera is pointed towards heeseung’s bed behind you as heeseung ushers you to sit on his usual gaming chair, he stands beside it. 

“hi guys,” heeseung says cooly to the camera. he lowly chuckles to himself as the comments start pouring in. there seems to be hundreds of comments in a second about “darlingdove01” and heeseung’s face. a lot of the comments are talking about how hot heeseung is and that they “always knew he’d be hot!”.  

“today we have a very special guest, darlingdove01 is here,” heeseung gestures to you. you wave at the camera, watching the viewer numbers grow higher and higher as the introduction continues. “and she told me that she likes anything… but anal.” 

“hey!” you shove him playfully with your shoulder. 

he only chuckles before continuing, resting his arm over the back of his gaming chair behind your head, “so today, i’m gonna do anything to please her.” he takes his other hand and cups your chin so you’re forced to look at him, “does that sound alright, darling?”

“yes,” you tell him, watching his warm brown eyes turn darker as you make eye contact. you can tell he’s no longer heeseung, but instead he’s “hluvsbabes”. 

“yes what?” 

“yes, sir.” 

“good girl,” heeseung leans down and presses his lips onto yours. you don’t have time to register that you are kissing the hluvsbabes. his lips are soft against yours, but their movements are deep and rough. just from the kiss you can tell what direction this live stream is going in. he pulls away too soon for your liking, “pull up your shirt.” 

your hands reach for the bottom hem of your shirt and lift them so your bare breasts are visible to heeseung and the audience. 

“fuck,” heeseung groans, his hands cupping both of them. both of you mentally note how perfectly they fit in his warm hands. he turns to the camera, “doesn’t she have the most beautiful tits?” 

heeseung starts to tweak both your nipples in between his thumbs and forefingers. your hand flies to grip the handle of the chair, your back arches into his touch. 

“that feel good?” he asks you with a smirk, obviously amused by your reaction. 

“yes, sir. they’re sensitive,” you admit. 

“are they?” heeseung tilts his head, “keep playing with them, then.” 

your hands replace heeseung’s. your hands are definitely not as big and as warm as heeseung’s. but you massage your breasts, your fingers playing with your nipples like he told you to. 

meanwhile, heeseung starts to kiss down your revealed torso, his hands unzipping and pulling down your shorts so fast. you watch him get down on his knees in between your legs, his hot breath against your panties. heeseung groans once he’s eye level with your core and can see the faint wet strip on them. he could always see how wet you were on livestream, but now he gets to see in person. 

“i wanna make you feel good,” heeseung says against your skin, pressing kisses on your inner thighs, your legs spread wide for the camera to see. “are you gonna do whatever i say?” 

“yes, sir.” you nod down at him, watching his tongue lick his lips so close to your pussy. ‘i wanna be your slut.” 

heeseung chuckles against your skin, his fingers slip inside your panties as he speaks, “let me feel my slut’s pussy then.” 

you take a deep breath as his fingers start to massage your clit, exploring your pussy for the first time. he’s thought about his fingers touching you so many times before. he could hardly believe that you were actually in front of him right now. 

“you want me to taste your pussy, darling?” 

“please,” your voice sounds so breathy when you speak again, his fingers pressing hard. 

“ask me to.” 

“please taste my pussy, sir.” 

with that heeseung slides his middle finger into your core. it feels so long as it reaches right to your g spot immediately, as if he knew it’d be there. your jaw drops open as he pushes his finger in and out. a whine leaving your mouth as you start to move your hips to meet his finger. his palm is massaging your clit as he moves his fingers in and out of your core. 

heeseung then pulls his finger out of you, “take off your panties, show everyone your pussy.” heeseung leans more to the side as you do what he says. your panties drop to the floor and your legs are on either side of his gaming chair. “fuck, doesn’t she have the most perfect pussy, everyone?” heeseung is staring at the camera as he massages your thighs. 

heeseung’s lips meet your core before you can comprehend. he’s making out with your clit, the sloppy sounds fill your ears and the audience’s as he sucks your clit into his mouth. he reaches his finger up to slide into your core again, so easily. 

“my finger barely fits in there,” heeseung smirks. 

his mouth continues to lick and suck on every part of your pussy. his tongue circles your clit in his mouth. your hand is gripping the chair arm as you watch him, unable to contain your moans. 

“fuck yes, sir.” you cry out, throwing your head back from pleasure. you don’t think anyone has been able to make you feel this good with their mouth before. your ex’s could never make you cum at all. 

heeseung is moaning against your core, letting you and the audience know that he is also enjoying this, “god this pussy tastes so good, tastes better than i’d ever imagined before.” your stomach tightens at his words, feeling high on the pleasure heeseung’s mouth and fingers is giving you so easily and the audience watching you both. “keep playing with those tits, darling.” 

your hands fly up to your sensitive nipples, almost forgotten by how pretty heeseung looks while he makes out with your pussy. your body’s whole senses are heightened. heeseung can start to feel you clench around his fingers as your hips start to buck up to his mouth, wanting more of him. 

“fuck that feels so good.” you whine out, your eyebrows furrowing together at the pleasure. 

“are you gonna cum?” heeseung asks lowly. he watches you nod at him, unable to form words. 

then, heeseung rips away from you. his mouth and finger gone and before you can realize, he’s standing again beside you. his hand wrapped around your neck gently– forcing you to look at him with your legs spread. 

“you have to ask for permission if you want to cum,” heeseung’s voice is stern as he looks you in the eyes, “understand?” 

“yes, sir.” 

heeseung’s smile returns as his hand leaves your neck, “here, taste yourself.” your mouth opens for heeseung to slide his finger inside your mouth. your lips close around his finger, sucking it into your mouth as your tongue swirls around it, wanting to taste yourself. “good girl.” heeseung removes his finger, and instead presses a kiss to your lips, softly, passionately, as if to check in on you. but you’re so hungry for an orgasm that you really would do anything right now. “are you ready to make me feel good?” 

“yes, sir.” 

“get on your knees.” 

you sit up, closing your legs for the first time and feeling how wet your inner thighs were. heeseung pushes his chair to the side as he stands, looking down at you as you kneel before him. “you wanna suck my cock?” heeseung questions you, noticing how you tighten your thighs at his question. his hand slides down on your chin for you to look up at him. you nod in response to him. “ask me.” 

“can i suck your cock, sir?” 

“good girl, take it out.” 

your hands work to unbutton his pants, pulling them down to his upper thigh to release his cock. you just have to stop and marvel at it. there in front of you is hluvsbabes huge cock that you had thought about stretching you out for weeks. it’s much bigger in person you think. it’s hard, and the tip is so pink as some veins swirl down it. 

“open your mouth.” heeseung starts to glide his dick into your mouth. your hand coming up to grip the base of it as your lips close around the tip. “god, keep those eyes on me.” heeseung groans out as you start to such his cock. heeseung keeps his hand on your head, hsi fingers meshing with your hair. 

you do keep your eyes on him with as much of his cock as you can manage in your mouth. your hand jerks what you can’t fit as you moan against his dick. 

“god you’re so big sir,” 

“yeah? think it’ll fit inside your pussy? think it’ll stretch you out so good?” heeseung retorts, watching your mouth work on his cock. he’d be lying if he said you weren’t making him close to his orgasm already, your innocent eyes looking at him as your mouth sucks his soul out. 

“yes, sir, please– want your cock so bad.” you speak before going back to sucking his cock. your tongue circles the hot, pink tip of it before tracing the delicious veins. your hand moves in rhythm with your mouth. 

“are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth?” 

you nod at him with his cock still fully in your mouth. heeseung moves both of his hands to grip your head as your own hand drops to your thighs, so tempted to play with your clit, but you know sir wouldn’t approve. 

heeseung starts to slowly move his hips so his cock moves in and out of your mouth. he stops when the tip is at your throat– feeling your throat tighten against the tip. he almost pulls out fully everytime, just so that the tip is at your swollen lips before he pushes back in again. 

“oh, my fucking god,” heeseung moans out, looking at the camera monitor to see him fucking your pretty mouth. your mouth feels too good for him to even notice that the viewer count is at 16,000. “play with my balls like a good girl.” 

heeseung continues to fuck your mouth as your hand reaches fro his balls. they are heavy in your palm as you start to massage them gently. tugging on them and moving them around easily with your salvia that has dripped down. 

heeseung pulls his dick fully out of your mouth, letting you breathe for a moment. you could feel your pussy drip down onto his carpet– you hoped it wouldn’t stain. 

“open your mouth,” heeseung tells you. your jaw drops open, revealing your used tongue and mouth. heeseung leans over you and let’s a drop of his spit lands right onto your tongue before he starts to hit his dick against your tongue. he mixes your spit with his on his cock and both of you groan out at that the thought of it. 

heeseung goes back to fucking your mouth. his grip on your head tight as he’s picked up the pace of his hips. his cock sliding so quickly in and out of your mouth. the sounds of your saliva and gurgling against his cock fill the room and microphone. 

“that’s it, like that, like that like a good girl,” heeseung groans out his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his own pleasure boiling. probably boiling too much if he wants this to last any longer. 

heeseung pulls away from you and pulls you with him for you to sit on the floor while he moves back to sit on the edge of his bed, his feet on the ground for you to sit in between them. your chest is heaving from excitement and lack of air. you watch as heeseung pulls down his pants fully and throws them on the floor beside his bed. 

heeseung’s hand wraps around your neck as he looks down at you, “you ready to get fucked, darling?” 

“yes, please.”

“ask me to fuck you.” 

“can you please fuck me, sir.” 

“get up on the bed and turn around.” 

heeseung’s voice is demanding as you scramble to stand up, your knees tired from kneeling for so long. you get up on his bed for the first time. you turn around so your ass is towards him in the air, your face pressed into his bed. 

heeseung pushes your chest further into his bed by placing his hand on your back, “stay like this like a good girl, okay?” 

“yes, sir.” 

“i’m gonna fuck this little pussy just like the slut you are.” heeseung grunts, spreading your ass cheeks more for him to slide his cock right inside of you.

the stretch of his cock is just what you imagined it would be. it’s almost blissful once he’s fully inside. you can feel the tip of his cock basically reaching your cervix. once he’s bottomed out completely, both of you groan out into his bedroom, pleasure taking over both of you. 

“there we go, darling,” heeseung grunts through his teeth as he starts to slide back out of you. both of you feel each and every vein of his cock sliding against your oh, so wet walls. “let sir fuck you like a slut.”

heeseung’s one hand grips your waist as the other one stays on your back. his hips quickly pick up pace, his cock easily going in and out of you due to his saliva and your juices mixing together. your hands grip the blanket on his bed, crying out into the bed as you finally get what you want. 

“oh my god it’s so big!” you whine out, your eyes trying to focus on the camera. 

“yeah? it’s so big and full just for you, it’s all just for you.” heeseung grunts out, his bangs covering his forehead like usual, his eyes entranced only on you. he watches as your entire body jerks forward everytime he slams his cock into you. his hands run down and grab your ass, wanting to finally feel it after he’s seen it so many times on your livestreams. 

heeseung slaps your ass, making you cry out a curse. the pain of it turning you on even more. you can feel the wetness dripping down your thighs as heeseung fucks you even rougher. heeseung’s balls are soaked from your juices. 

“reach down and rub your clit for me.” heeseung demands you, trying to keep his voice steady when he speaks.

you manage to sneak your arm under your body to start rubbing circles on your clit with your index and middle fingers. you instantly cry out. with your fingers on your clit and heeseung managing to hit your g spot with every single thrust the pleasure starts to boil up more and more in your tummy. 

“oh shit!” 

“you better not cum unless i tell you to,” heeseung smacks your ass again, harder, a warning. “you hear me?” 

“fu-fuck yes, sir.” 

heeseung suddenly grabs you up from the bed from under your arms, mumbling a “come here” before he turns you to face the camera. both of you standing now with his cock still lunged inside of you. 

“let everyone see this fucking slut’s body.” heeseung grunts out, staring directly at the camera as he continues to thrust up into you from the back. he reaches over your front, rubbing your clit for you now. your head is thrown back onto his shoulder, trying to keep standing upwards. “you like everyone seeing me use you like this? like using you to get off?” 

“f-fuck sir, can i cum? please?” you whine out, barely being able to keep your eyes open as you look at him. 

“yeah? you wanna cum, darling?” heeseung voice is almost teasing as he doesn’t stop his movements. 

“please let me cum, sir. please i’m so close.” 

“ok, cum for me, do it.” heeseung nods, his grunts loud in your ear as he manages to fuck you faster and faster. 

you can’t lift your head from being thrown back onto heeseung’s shoulder. your body feels weak as heeseung fucks you infront of the camera, probably hundreds of people watching you come undone on hluvsbabes’ cock. you’ve been so close to orgasming for which feels like hours at this point. 

“i’m cumming! i-i’m cumming!” you manage to cry out. your moans get higher in pitch as you finally reach your high. 

if heeseung wasn't holding your body up with his arms, then you wouldn’t fell straight to the floor. the pleasure was almost over consuming. your body was on high sensitivity everywhere. to be honest, it had been awhile since anyone besides yourself or your vibrator had made you cum. that probably not getting any dick for a while and then fucking the hluvsbabes would probably make you feel as lightheaded as you do now. 

heeseung gently pulls his cock from you, his hands slowing down on your clit before pulling away from it. he leads you to lay down on his bed. your head is on his pillow as he crawls on top of you. your bodies are still very visible to the camera from the way his bed is positioned. 

heeseung starts to press soft, gentle kisses into your neck and jaw, letting you calm down from your very obvious, hard climax. 

you hear heeseung chuckle into your ear before he speaks, “is this a bad time to tell you that i donated to you on your livestream before?” 

through your post-nut haze, your eyes widen as you process the information, “what? when?” 

heeseung laughs before he moves down your body, kissing every (sweaty) inch that he could, “a few days ago i guess, darling. i’ve watched your streams quite a lot to be honest.” 

the way the nickname rolls off his tongue so easily makes it click in your head. “oh my god, you were the person who donated like 200$ the other day!” you also start laughing at the realization. who could not believe that hluvsbabes not only watched multiple of your streams, but also donated to you. your competitor for top creator was also boosting your content. 

“yeah, i didn’t know how or if i should tell you that. but i guess now is the better time.” heeseung pulls away from your body so he’s on his knees hovering over you. “now put those legs up, let me see your swollen pussy again.” 

heeseung helps guide you to hook your arms around your knees, holding your legs up, pressed against your chest. your entire core is exposed for not only heeseung’s eyes, but the camera’s and all of the audience’s. 

“god please but your cock back inside of me, sir.” 

heeseung drags his cock through your folds teasingly, “yeah? the slut wants to be stretched out again?” 

“yes! sir, yes!” 

heeseung guides his cock back inside of you with his hand, bottoming out completely in one thrust. your arms stay hooked around your knees, your hands resting on your ankles to keep yourself from squirming from the pleasure. 

heeseung leans over you, his hand coming down to choke you again. his grip on your neck tight as he starts the previous pace he had. rough and hard. your whole body moves with every thrust, his headboard hitting his wall. 

“oh fuck oh fuck!” you cry out, your pussy so sensitive from being overstimulated. 

heeseung could feel your walls flutter around his cock, “you better not cum.” he pulls his cock out again, his hand slaps the tip of his cock over your clit, making you jerk up into his pillows. “tell me you won’t cum without permission, slut.” 

“i-i won’t cum without permission, sir.” 

heeseung slides back into you, his pace rough. the banging of his headboard in rhythm with his thrusts. your cries of pleasure mixing with his grunts. heeseung keeps both of his hands on your waist as he hovers over you. his main focus is to fuck you so good that you forget everything else. and by the way your eyes start to haze over with pleasure he can tell that he isn’t too far from it. 

“keep your legs up,” heeseung grunts to you, reminding you to keep your knees by your face. your swollen pussy is visible to him now. he has clear access to see his cock fucking into you. your lips are so puffy that he can’t help his thumb rubbing your also swollen clit. your head is thrown back into the pillow, his hard, circles on your clit mixing with his hard thrusts are overpowering you completely. 

heeseung leans over you, his hand gripping your neck again. his face is inches from you, his lips almost on yours. his thrusts don’t stop as he chokes you. 

“you like being a good girl for me?” heeseung asks you more quietly, loosening his grip on your neck for a moment to let you speak. 

“y-yes sir, i love it.” you nod up to him, completely submissive to him. 

“turn around for me again, then.” 

although your body felt weak from the pleasure, your adrenaline was rushing enough for you to be able to get up and turn over quite quickly. your ass up in the air as you grip onto the pillow in front of you. you feel heeseung behind you, lining up his hard, soaked cock with your soaked pussy. 

“push back on it, darling.” 

you let your knees push back, feeling his cock insert inside of you, filling you up yet again. this angle made him feel even bigger. his cock pressing into your cervix is only when you stop pushing back. heeseung’s hands land palm down on your ass when you bottom out. the pain makes you jut forward. the moan that escapes your lips as the pain settles on your ass is sinful. 

“god, i love your ass,” heeseung smacks it again, watching it start to turn red, turning him on more he thought his cock was going to explode any minute now. 

with that thought, heeseung starts sliding in and out of you again. his hand reaching over your back to pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling your upper half backward. the pain from his pulling makes you cry out in the best way. all of your senses seem to be overcome by heeseung. your grip on his pillow that smelt like him, tightened. 

“you like being fucked like this? like being used?” heeseung grunts out to you, his own eyebrows furrowing together as your walls clench around him. 

“ye-yeah, sir.” 

“say it.” 

“i like being used, sir.” 

“look at me while i fuck you.” 

with his hand still pulling your hair, you turn your head to look at him. his face is flushed, his lips are swollen from probably biting them so much. there’s sweat dripping down his line of abs that you just want to lick off. his bangs are sweaty and stuck to his forehead. he looks so hot. 

heeseung continues to fuck you until his thrusts get sloppy, his grunts get softer and his headboard isn’t banging against his wall. you turn to look at him, “let me ride you.” 

his hand smacks against one of your ass cheeks, making you cry out, “ask me.” 

“can i please ride you, sir?” 

heeseung pulls out of you, both of you switching places so now heeseung’s head is in the pillow that you were gripping. his legs are flat out against the bed as you crawl over him. both of your knees are on either side of him as you look down at him now. 

slowly, you start to sink down onto his cock. you close your eyes as he bottoms out in you once again. this angle felt entirely different. you could feel how hard and big he was inside of you. heeseung’s hands run up and down your bare thighs, letting you get use to the angle. 

“you good?” he asks from below you, concern on his face. 

“yeah, just sensitive -is all.” you shrug to him and start to move slowly. you start out slow, wanting to build both of your orgasms again. your knees lift your body up and down with the help of heeseung’s hands on your waist, he helps lift you. 

your hands grip your tits, massaging them again. your sensitive nipples hard against your palm. you start to bounce down on his harder, his tip hitting your g spot everytime now. you cry out in pleasure again. 

“fuck just like that,” you tell him, your eyes closed as you nod to him. 

“like that?” heeseung teases you, his cock hitting your g spot again. 

“y-yes,” you tell him, bouncing harder. 

“fuck, i love his pussy,” heeseung grunts to you, “so warm and tight around my cock.” 

“oh my god,” your body falls forward, your hands resting on either side of his head as heeseung takes over the thrusts completely. his hands on your waist as he thrusts his hips upwards into your pussy. “fuck, sir.” 

heeseungs grip on you leaves you to go nowhere. just stay on top of him as he fucks into you. your knees feel weak against his mattress. you can feel his balls slapping your ass every time he bottoms out in you. heeseung can feel your juices dripping down onto his lower stomach. 

“okay turn around, slut, let the audience see you.” heeseung gently pushes your core up and off of him. your mind feels dazed as heeseung has to literally, physically flip you over on him. 

now that you’re in reverse cowgirl, you can see yourself in the camera’s monitor. heeseung lays underneath you still, so just your bare body can be seen completely. you look so different you usually do, you’re glowing. 

your feet and arms hold your body up over heeseung, his hands on your waist as he slides himself up into you. 

“oh fuck!” you cry out, watching heeseung dick disappear inside of you in the camera. you start to bounce up and down on his cock again, though you keep your eyes open to watch yourself. 

“shit, keep going, baby.” heeseung grunts below you, “just like that.” 

with every thrust heeseung’s balls are hitting your clit. you can hear a wet squelch between your bodies everytime you move. your pussy is so wet around his cock. heeseung wraps his arm around your body, massaging your clit with his fingers in a circle once again. 

“yes, sir! rub my clit, sir please!” you cry out to him. your hands sturdy yourself on his chest behind you as you continue to bounce on him. his cock filling you up every time. his hard balls slapping against your pussy. his fingers keep moving against your clit. “i’m so close, sir, so close!” 

suddenly, heeseung’s fingers stop and he’s pushing you off of him. your chest is heaving as you look back on him. your pussy is clamping around nothing, so desperate to cum. 

“lay down,” heeseung is also out of breath when he speaks, “wanna see your face when you cum.” heeseung grabs your forearm and helps you lay down again. he puts your one leg up to your face, allowing him access to slide into your fucking soak pussy again. 

heeseung holds your leg up, while the other starts to rub your clit again. his thrusts continue to stretch you out, to hit your cervix over and over again. you aren’t sure how much longer you can last with this much pleasure he continuously gives you. you’ve never had sex this good before. 

“want me to fill up your little pussy?” heeseung grunts above you. 

“yes, sir.” 

“ask me.” 

“please cum inside of me!” you cry out, heeseung’s hand smacks your thigh before returning to hold your leg up, “own this pussy, fucking own it it’s yours!” 

“oh fuck!” heeseung grunts out, your words making him closer to his own orgasm so quickly. 

“oh my god i wanna feel you fill me up so bad, sir.” you were becoming so desperate, so needy. you wanted to cum so bad. you wanted heeseung to cum so bad. 

“fuck me, keep talking, keep talking, darling.” 

“please cum inside of me! i want it so bad!” you tell him honestly. his thrusts making your whole body move with each thrust. you can feel his cock start to twitch inside of you. his moans getting higher, mixing with your own. 

“fuck, baby, i’m gonna fucken cum,” heeseung tells you, his fingers rubbing your clit faster and harder. 

“me too, me too.” you cry out, your eyes closing as the pleasure takes over you. 

heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed together as the pleasure became too much for him, too. curses and moans fill up his bedroom– entertain the audience that’s watching you through the camera. he feels your walls clench harder around him than ever before as his cock starts to spurt his white sperm. 

heeseung paints your walls with his cum as you grip his forearms tight. your second orgasm making your body feel numb from how good you feel. his thrusts finally stop as his grunts slow down. his cock rests inside of you as he lays on top of you. both of you catching your breaths and coming down from your highs for one second. 

“fuck,” heeseung curses in your ear, his chest heaving against yours. he finally pulls out of you, both of you watching his cum slowly trickle out of your pussy. “god that’s so hot.”  heeseung reaches down to swipe some of his cum. 

you immediately open your mouth, wanting a taste of it. heeseung rests his fingers on your tongue, letting you taste his salty sperm. you moan around his fingers, sucking them dry of his cum. 

“you’re such a good girl.” heeseung grunts out, “you’re gonna make me hard again.” 

you laugh around his fingers, “i wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

heeseung smirks at you and kisses you deeply. both of your eyes closing as you welcome the other’s lips. the taste of heeseung’s cum not bothering either of you. 

heeseung pulls away from you and is the first to stand up. he reaches over and tosses you his shirt to slip on before he heads back to his computer desk. 

you easily slip on his shirt and pull his sheets and blanket over top of your bare legs. 

“holy shit.” heeseung exclaims, pure shock and what almost sounds like fear in his voice. 

“what?” you sit up in his bed properly, trying to look at his computer screen. 

“there’s 30,000 viewers right now.” 

“holy shit.” you cover your mouth. you had never had that many viewers before in your life. 30,000 viewers, it’s literally like yours and heeseung’s fan bases came together to view your live stream. 

heeseung clears his throat, “uh, thank you guys so much, really. we hope you enjoyed, right?” he looks over at you from his shoulder. 

“right, we’ll see you next time, hopefully. thank you.” 

“right, because there definitely needs to be a next time.” heeseung winks and with a final wave he ends the stream. you notice the red light on the camera turns off. 

you lay back in heeseung’s pillows, feeling tired as your legs gain back their strength. you hear heeseung hum gently as he fixes things on his computer, on his hluvsbabes account. you feel relaxed as you lay in his bed, wanting to sleep so bad. 

“holy shit!” heeseung yells louder suddenly, his humming stopping as he pushes his chair back, standing up in only his boxers. 

“what?” your heart races, concerned from his yelling. “what happened?”

“y/n,” heeseung turns to you with a silly grin on his face, “do you know how much money we made off of that?” 

you sit up straight, leaning closer to him though he’s meters away, “how much, heeseung.” 

heeseung can’t contain his excitement when he states, “15k.” 

“oh my god!” you cover your mouth, not believing what you’re hearing. “you’re fucking lying.” 

“no i’m not! come look!” 

you stand up, legs wobbling a bit, but heeseung catches your arm nonchalantly. bringing you over to sit in his chair again. there, on the computer screen, is the number 15,000$ in tips connected to the livestream you had finished. 

“oh my god, heeseung!” you turn to him, your excitement meeting his. both of you wrap your arms around each other, your squeals filling the room as you rock side to side with excitement. “15k!” 

“15k!” heeseung shouts back as he pulls away slightly, his hands still on your waist. 

“now we definitely have to do it again.” you tease him. 

heeseung smiles, but you notice his shoulders tense, “yeah, but before that,” heeseung swallows harshly, “could we go on a date?’ 

you sit up in his chair, wearing his shirt and nothing else, “wow, the hluvsbabes wants to go on a date with me.” 

“of course, i mean, i recently got a lot of money. so, i can spend it all on you.” 

you shove his shoulder with your hand, “of course i’ll go on a date with you, heeseung.” 

“really?” heeseung asks, his face lighting up so prettily. 

“yeah, but only if you fuck me really good after.” 

“that, i can definitely promise.”

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When They Call You Clingy So You Distance Yourself PT. 3 | Hyungline

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Suicide

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BANGCHAN|

You ran your fingers through your hair as you walked up to your front door.

The past week had already been stressful enough. After arriving at the airport, you realized that somewhere between you getting off the plane and getting to your parents' car your phone had fallen out of your pocket. You had to attend a funeral, your flight home had been pushed back by a day, and you still had a shit ton to do before you moved. Not to mention it ate at you the entire week that you were gone all you could think about was the argument you and Chris had.

Overall you felt absolutely shitty and you just wanted to crash.

You unlocked your door and slipped your shoes off and walked into the kitchen and set your purse down. You had left your luggage in the foyer, and were contemplating how nasty it would be just to leave your things in there until you unpacked at your new place.

You made your way into your room and flicked on your light and gave out a quiet yelp when you noticed someone in your bed.

Your heart slowed slightly when you realized that it was Christopher in your bed, hugging the bear he bought you in Europe when he was on tour.

He was curled in a fetal position, and knowing his nature, you knew he must have been staying in your room the entire week you were gone.

Your heartbeat sped up as you walked over to him, knowing what confrontation awaited.

He whimpered quietly in his sleep. Sadly.

"Christopher." You whispered, shaking his shoulder slightly. He whimpered again and you could swear you heard him say your name.

He must be having a nightmare.

"Baby." You said shaking him awake, harder this time.

Chris startled awake and looked at you. He stared for a moment as if you weren't real.

"Y-Y/N?" He asked quietly.

"Hey-"

His chest collided with yours as he pulled you into an embrace, and you immediately felt his tears wet your shoulder.

"I-I'm s-sorry b-babe. I didn't m-mean any of it- I didn't pl-please d-don't l-leave me. I'll do any-anything. I'll qui-quit wo-working so I won-won't be stressed an-anymore. A-Anything I-I mean it-"

"Love, shhh. I'm not leaving you." You said as you stroked his hair. It felt gross, and he smelled a little stale, and he looked worn out overall. You could tell that he probably hadn't moved much all this week.

"Did you really stay in my bed waiting for me to come back?" You asked quietly. He let out a whine into your shoulder refusing to let you go.

"Chris, I promise I'm not leaving you."

"But the boxes..."

You chuckled and stroked his hair again. "I'm moving, yes. But not away from you. The neighborhood I live in isn't the safest, and I figured you would like it better if I moved closer to the dorms, so you didn't have to travel as far in the opposite direction of your home." Chris still held onto you, and you could feel the downturn of his lips pressed into your shoulder like a soft kiss.

"You didn't answer my calls...I thought you broke up with me..."

You sighed and pushed him away from you slightly and you could see his heart sink a little until you kissed the edge of his lips, his slight stubble exfoliating your own.

"While I will admit, what you said wasn't very kind of you...I know that isn't you." You murmured, caressing his cheek. His brown eyes were wide and sad but filled with hope. "I understand you were stressed, and I understand I can be clingy at times, but that's only because I have so much love and affection for you, I have to get it out in a physical way. Or else I might actually explode." You giggle as you pinch his cheek.

His eyes widen slightly, and he opens his mouth to speak but you press your finger to his lips.

"Let me finish. I didn't answer your calls because I lost my phone at the airport when I went home. My cousin's spouse took her life so I went to go attend the funeral. I wasn't informed until a few days before, so I went to the studio to tell you I was leaving." You let out a breath. "I also wanted to ask you while I was there is you could help me finish packing since I have to be moved out in two days."

Chris looked at you. "I'm sorry for your loss, baby. I'm also so-"

"Shhhhhh." You said placing a quick yet super soft kiss on his lips. "Thank you for your condolences. But don't apologize for snapping at me Chris. I already forgave you the minute you did it."

His bottom lip trembled, and he started to cry, little hiccups coming through as he still apologized, even though you knew he meant it when you said he didn't. He repeatedly apologized.

"You're too good for me." He said once he calmed down, his quiet sniffles and hiccups infrequent.

"And you're too handsome for me." You said as you kissed the tip of his nose.

"You're beautiful though. Way more than me." He said staring holes into you. "When we get married and have kids I want them to look exactly like you."

You laughed and shook your head. "They need your smile though, which I have yet seen you give since I arrived." Your voice held mock sternness as you tried to look serious but ended up letting out a loud chuckle.

He was finally able to give you and actual smile, and his adorable little giggle finally peeked through. You poked your pinkie in his dimple and he giggled again.

You ruffled his hair once and then made a face.

"You need to go shower, love." You said your nose wrinkling.

He pouted and wrapped his hands around you, laying his head on your stomach. "Mmmm, just a couple more minutes. Let me hold you."

You sighed, a smile on your face as you looked down at the boy you knew you would spend the rest of your life with. You scratched his head affectionately.

"Who is the clingy one now?"

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MINHO|

"Y/N!" Minho had been running around for almost an hour. His voice was hoarse and the wind was biting at him through his coat as he ran. Knowing your stubborn ass you had probably only left the hotel in a thin jacket, with one or two layers at most.

He took a second to catch his breath and looked around. "Y/N!"

He was about to start off in a different direction when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Did you find her?" Minho asked when he picked up a call from Jisung. All the members of both Stray Kids and TWICE were looking for you.

"Sort of? She asked me to go pick her up from in front of the Louvre - she said she lost track of time but she's too scared to-"

Minho started running again. "Thank you! I'll call you when I have her-" He hung up and felt his legs move faster than he thought was humanly possible.

Please God...Universe...whoever please just please let her be okay.

He arrived and he looked around for you. When he didn't see you he started to panic until he noticed your figure swamped in one of is hoodies hunched over on a bench dozing off.

"Y/N!"

You perked your head up and saw your boyfriend running towards you, his long coat nearly flying off his shoulders.

He stopped in front of you and you braced yourself for him to start yelling at you after he caught his breath.

But instead of yelling at you his pants turned into desperate weeps.

"Minho-"

He fell down on his knees and you quickly joined him on the ground.

"You-you scared me I tho-thought..." He couldn't even look at you.

"I'm sorry Minho, I didn't mean to...I..." Your voice was wobbly. You hadn't ever seen Minho cry before in the entire time you had been together. You didn't know how to comfort him, or what to say to get his cries to stop.

It made you want to cry how vulnerable he sounded. How weak and broken.

"Its not safe here. Anywhere. Thats why I was so scared." He whispered looking up at you, his eyes rimmed red. "One of the girls said they couldn't find you and I panicked. I've been running around for almost three hours."

You felt a pang of guilt strike you in your heart.

"I-I'm so-sorry..." You began to tear up as the pain of being mad at Minho seemed to hit you like a ton of bricks. You missed your boyfriend. "I'm sorry for being clingy too. I thought you wanted to be alone so I hung out with the girls...but I felt like maybe they'd think I was clingy too so I thought I would just spend today alone-"

"Y/N stop. First off the girls will never and I mean never find you clingy." He wiped his face and chuckled, a small smile forming on his face. "We were in a meeting last week and they were playing rock paper scissors over who gets to marry you. I told them that you were mine and Tzuyu said 'did you guys hear something?'"

He licked his lips and took a breath. "Secondly you don't need to apologize, Jagiya...all of this...this was my fault. I shouldn't have called you clingy. Because your clinginess...its something I love. Adore even. You know how to respect boundaries when needed as well. But it's obvious I have work to do on that, because I crossed a line I never should have crossed. So I am so, so, sorry Y/N. I'm sorry that I can't manage my frustrations in a way that won't hurt you. And I'm sorry that I'm horrible at communicating. I'm sorry that I say things that never should come out of my mouth."

You look at your boyfriend and the sincerity in the words his is saying. You swallow as he continues.

"I'm sorry that I cause more trouble than it's worth sometimes. That I make things a little more stressful than they need to be as well. I'm sorry that I can't express my love in the way you need either." He takes a shaky breath and he looks at you; your hear thumping in your chest at his apology.

"I love you. I love you. So much, Y/N. But I struggle to express that love and affection properly...which isn't fair to you." He lets go of your hand and you instinctively reach out for the warmth of it again. He lifts up one of his knees from the ground.

"So please be patient with me. Be patient with me so you understand the depth of my love for you. It is going to take a long time...if I had to guess..."

He pulled out a navy blue velvet box from his coat pocket. You watched as he opened it and a dainty but elegant ring was placed in there.

"It will the take the rest of my life to be able to show you." His voice trailed off and he trailed his eyes up to yours as he waited for you to say something...anything.

"I love you Y/N L/N."

You shook your head. Minho felt his heart start to shatter until you giggled and wiped away your tears.

"You idiot, it's Lee. Not L/N. Lee." You held your hand out and Minho slid the ring on your finger, his own trembling.

"I'm sorry I ruined your elaborate proposal."

Minho cocked his head as he helped you up, pulling you as close as humanly possible to his side so he could wrap you up in his coat as well.

"How did you know about that?"

"Jisung told me when I called him earlier..."

Minho chuckled as you guys walked along.

"Thats why we should probably wait to tell him about our engagement." You admired your ring with a bright smile.

Minho shook his head. "I'm gonna tell him when we get back. Because I want the world to know."

You looked at each other and immediately bursted out laughing because you both had the same thought.

"And that will be the quickest way for them to know."

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CHANGBIN|

Changbin had sped past three red lights to get here.

He would not lose you. He couldn't. The past couple of weeks had been grueling for him.

Your presence was something he was missing in his life. And that furthermore showed him how much he needed you.

How desperate he was to keep you.

He pulled into the lot illegally and ran into the small coffee shop. All the memories he had with you flooded his mind, since this was you and his favorite coffee shop. He had just been so busy that you guys never had time to come here anymore. It was more than half an hour away from your house and his dorm. And even further from the studio.

He scanned the small area and almost immediately pinpointed you with another person. A guy.

He was in a nice outfit as well. Very clean and put together. Lean and tall.

He watched as you both got up and hugged each other and watched as you smiled brightly at the guy and laughed at something he said.

"Alright I'll see you Wednes-"

"No! You will not see her Wednesday!" Changbin said as he pulled you from the guys embrace. "Listen, I don't know who you think you are but I'm her boyfriend! And she hasn't properly broken up with me yet so you can't have her! And if even if she did I wouldn't allow it!" He stared the guy down. Or rather up.

Damn he's even taller than he looked.

"Y/N-ie did you not tell-"

"I'm the only one who can call her that! Well...me and the guys but you're not the guys so you can't." Changbin mumbled angrily like a frustrated toddler.

"Changbin! Quit being such a fucking dumbass!" You said smacking him above the head lightly. You turn to guy and apologize profusely. "I'm sorry, Bin is a little...possessive." A nervous laugh escaped you. "Like a Chihuahua...but not the kind quiet sweet ones more like the ones who have a bark bigger than themselves." You said looking at your boyfriend with frustration in the lines of your face.

He looked down as you apologized to the guy once more.

"It's okay Y/N-ie...I think this is a memorable meeting. I'll definitely bring it up in my speech when you guys get married." He laughed. "I'm Justin Kim. Y/N's brother-in-law." He held his hand out and Changbin looked between the two of you. Justin had a smile on his face while you were looking at Changbin with annoyance.

"Ah! I'm so sorry...uh..."

"I think I'm older than you but I didn't grow up using honorifics so you can just call me Justin."

Changbin bowed and apologized, but held his hand out to shake.

"My wife and I are moving here settling down here soon. She's back home but will be here next week with the last of our things. She was stationed here for a little bit when she was in the military and loved it and since her only sister found love here and doesn't have much time to come see her since she's dating an idol, she thought it would be nice to move here. I agreed since it is beautiful, and this where our family is." He motioned his head towards you.

"Although she might be a little upset that I met you before she did. Especially since she'll be entrusting you too take care of her little sister...although I feel like its more so because she's quite a big fan of you guys. Ever since Y/N-ie said she was dating an idol she's been keeping up with culture and your band, so she can better understand."

Justin smiled and looked over at you. "I'll uh...let you guys talk though. Y/N-ie I'll have your sister call you when I get home. She might be a little flippy floppy though because she went through the stock of pregnancy cravings I bought her." He hugged you one last time and pulled Changbin into a hug as well before walking off.

"Changbin are you really that idiotic?" You looked at your boyfriend and he tried to sputter out a response, but you interrupted him befroe he could form coherent words. "I think you are, I fear." You let out a defeated sigh as you slunk back into your chair. You looked tired.

"Jiwon, can you grab me my usual. And do you remember Binnie's?" Changbin turned to see a barista nod at you and start to prepare your order. He sat down across from you and quickly realized that he was mistaken about a lot of things.

"Binnie I would never break up with you. I may break your head open because sometimes my God I want to slap you upside it so hard, but I would never break your heart." The sigh you let out was deafening. "If you were so jealous about me talking and hanging out with Minho so much why didn't you tell me? You really think flirting with a barista to make me jealous is a good idea, babe? Really?" Jiwon placed two drinks in front of you guys. "Chan told me. I think he spotted it pretty quickly, and noticed how you were turning down her advances when I wasn't around. Also, rather rudely too apparently - because Seo Changbin what do mean to tell me when Chris said you made a gagging noise at the poor girl!"

Changbin's eyes widened, and his lip popped out in a small pout. "I'm sorry Y/N."

"It's okay Binnie. But there isn't a need to be jealous baby. I'm not leaving you for Minho, he's just an extremely close friend. I'm not leaving you for anyone else period. And I'm sure as hell not going on any dates. I had to dress nicely because we were doing a photoshoot." You gestured to the cafe you guys were currently sitting in. "Justin and I are going to be co-owners. I thought it would be nice to have a location closer to where we live so we can go more often, and that one little restaurant closed down so I thought it would be a good opportunity." A soft smile painted your face. "And it's partially selfish reasons...I can't help but think of us when I think of this place."

Changbin's heart swelled with affection. So much affection that it hurt him.

"So while I have been upset with you for the past three weeks I'm over it Binnie. I miss you so much." Changbin got up and moved next to you.

"You mean it?"

You chuckled and placed a kiss on his lips. "100%." You said connecting them again, a little bit more passionately, but pulling back when you felt a mass amount of messages come through your phone, and then it immediately started ringing. Changbin pouted as he stared at your lips as they turned into a nervous grin.

"Although...you might have a shit show in store when it comes to my older sister."

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HYUNJIN|

You sat with Hyunjin the couch as you two watched your favorite series together. Today was your yearlong anniversary. You had been in bright spirits for the occasion as you guys went out and did things together.

Hyunjin slowly ran his long fingers through your hair, and he felt you slowly dozing off.

"Baby..." Hyunjin whsipered, "Are you sleepy?"

"Hmm, just a little..."

"Can we talk?" Hyunjin paused the show, not giving you a choice.

You sat up and you felt your heart thump in your chest.

"Yeah we need to."

Hyunjin nodded. "You go first."

"No you"

You both spoke at the same time.

"Marry me-"

"We should break up-"

You looked at Hyunjin dumbfounded and he looked at you with utter digust.

"First off... that is utterly disgusting that you would even consider breaking up with me? What are you some sadist? Deriving pleasure from my pain and humiliation?" He said putting a hand to his chest dramtically.

You looked at him with wide eyes. "W-Well are you some sort of crazy person?! What the hell do you mean marry me?!"

Hyunjin pouted. "Well you can call me crazy all you want I'm being serious." He ran a hand through his brown bangs. "We've been together a year. And I know I want to be with you for the rest of my life. And I know for a fact you do because how the heck could you not want to marry me? I mean we'll quite literally be the most beautiful couple God has ever put on this earth." He said rolling his eyes in a joking manner.

You didn't see amused, rather your lip was shaking slightly and your eyes watering.

Hyunjin bit his cheek and pulled out a little ring from his pocket.

"It's a little cliche, I know. And some will probably say too soon. But I know what I want." He said quietly.

He took a breath and spoke slowly, switching to his native language.

"Cling to me Y/N. For the rest of your life. Ask me how you look. Let my eyes cling to you when I admire you. Let my words cling to you when I say just how beautiful you are. Cling yourself to me every night before we fall asleep, and let me cling to you every morning when we wake up. Let yourself cling onto me when you feel like you aren't enough, and let me cling onto you so I can show the world that you are enough-that you are more than enough; and you will always be more than enough. Let me cling to you in the times where I feel you need reassurance, and I'll let you cling to me the times where you feel like I'm not sufficient enough. We may not be perfect but Y/N no couple is. I don't care what people think about us. We can be perfectly imperfect together. I'll let you cling to me so those hateful words have no room to stick. I'll let you cling to me so everyone around us knows that I am not me without you. That you're the one who completes me. Cling to me so tightly that if God forbid you ever leave you would take everything of me with so no o that no one else could ever cling to me. Because I won't let anyone else do that. No matter how much they claim to know what is best for me, they don't. Because if they did, they would know that it's you. And it will always be you. Thats why I'm so sure of this."

He slid the ring on your finger, as you watched him admire it on your hands. He didn't look up as he murmured quietly.

"Cling to me Y/N...I'm begging you."

You looked at Hyunjin and felt a few tears fall onto your hand as he held it with both of his own.

"You...you knew?"

Hyunjin shook his head. "Not when I said what I said. But Y/N I swear I didn't mean it in a mean way." He looked up at you helplessly. "In retrospect now I realize they meant it in a vicious way but...I genuinely thought that clinginess was a good thing. Isn't that how it's supposed to be when you love someone? Aren't you supposed to want to be with them?"

His brown eyes searched your face. "Because that's how it is for me. How it will always be. I don't want it to be any other way."

You felt your eyes prick up with tears.

"Did you really mean it when you said you want to break up?" He whimpered.

You shook your head aggressively. "No, Hyunjin no- I was just feeling insecure. I see how everyone reacts at us and sometimes I feel like I'll never be accepted as being your girlfriend."

"Fiancée." He corrected. "If they won't accept you as my girlfriend then I'll make them accept you as my fiancée. And if they want to be asses after that than tough luck because if anyone dares to not accept you as my wife than I'll find a way to deal with them." He said in complete seriousness.

You couldn't help but laugh as you moved your hands to cup Hyunjin's cheeks.

"Hyunjin I haven't said yes." You said quietly.

He gives you a determined look. "But you will say yes..."

He waited patiently for you to say yes.

"Jagiya. Three letters. Y-E-S. You just have to move your mouth to say it." He said stubbornly.

You shook your head.

"I'm not going to say yes Hyunjin."

His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest but instead you kissed him lightly, resting your forehead against his own.

"You won't say yes?" He whined.

"Nope."

"Why not...do you not want to say yes? Can you give me a straight answer Jagiya? Because I won't accept it until you say no. Until then I'll assume you are just being stubborn."

You smiled as your eyes met. Hyunjin looked at you waiting for you're answer. Which was so much more than a yes.

"I'll cling to you Hyunjin. Always. As long as you promise to do the same."

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@hardladytale @yaorzu-blog @viola-celine @jiminssluttyminx @pearl-monkeys @wave2ivy @keshet2k @dreammix88 @mysticalhumano @hannahlolo @periodpoops @m1rroh @seungmyynie @beebee18 @theodorenottgf @qrstarz @xocandyy @stay-tiny-things @vixensss @bo-fairykim @conwunder @parisanmorovati @lovesunshinefelix @hyunjins-dimples @ka0ila @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @chuuyaobsessed @dollschan @katexstay @lisunny2 @abovenyx @adrisiwiris @dontwannaexist @minsungsthirdwheel @ray0magdalene @maaayytyroshka @ddiidi

(if I missed you I'm so so sorry <3)

[kenntolog]

𝝑𝝔 an: ALRIGHT GUYS finally something angsty and involving an argument or smth vaguely saying that ahem ANYWAYS!! suku here is a bit of an ass but he will redeem himself guys dont worry. i love you all!! to the new readers — read more here!!

“can you piss off already?”

“i’m not in the mood, go fucking yap to someone else.”

“we wouldn’t be doing this shit if you just stopped being so fucking clingy!”

the hurt flashing in your big eyes tells him that he shut his mouth a little bit later than he initially should have.

sukuna sighs when you run out of the room, unable to hold in your sobs like you usually would, and sits down on the couch of your living room. to be honest, he doesn’t even know what came over him at this moment. or for the last half an hour he’s been pouring all of his anger at you.

recalling the previous week is not the most pleasant thing, but that’s all he can do right now to cool down. there is nothing to reminisce about; it’s been a very frustrating week, where jin was a lot busier than usual, their old man needed more care, the worry for yuuji being left alone ate both of them from inside and out, work has become more annoying than fulfilling, and all sukuna wanted to do was to be left alone, which is why coming over to your place was a mistake.

not because of you, but him. he could’ve texted you that he is tired and is going home instead, yet somehow his mind was stuck on seeing you tonight and his muscle memory led him to the familiar warmth of the street you lived on. it didn’t comfort him, like usually.

sukuna never thought he could scream at you like he did. you probably never thought either; the genuine fright and terror on your face told him a million of things, a million stop signs, yet he only continued going off on you.

you just expressed to him how you wanted to spend a little more time with him, how you wanted to help him decompress and relax, how much you cared about him — you didn’t deserve his ugly yelling and his angry attitude.

oh man, he fucked up.

he rubs his face roughly, barely able to stop himself from tearing his skin off, and stands up from his spot. for a minute, he contemplates whether he should even try to fix anything tonight — if you would even want that.

sukuna presses his ear against your door, hand tugging down the handle simultaneously, but to no avail. as disappointment washes over him, he realises that you’ve locked the door. is it a sign that he should just go home? probably.

he can’t do that though.

he knocks, loud enough for you to at least notice, “baby? can you let me in?”

sukuna doesn’t know that on the other side of the door, you barely stop yourself from jumping off the bed to open the door for him. your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you press your back into the headboard, clutching the blanket tighter as you gnaw on your bottom lip, stifling down your sobs.

you want to let him in so badly despite how much he hurt you.

it’s something you can’t control, something that has you curling into yourself, as far as you can so you can ignore the twitching in your limbs and keep yourself away from him. you only wanted to help and seeing his anger being directed at you made you further confused about what you did wrong.

subconsciously, you know that it’s not about you. but you still can’t stop yourself from thinking that maybe… maybe sukuna needs a girlfriend who is less overbearing than you. someone who understands him better, understands when they need to back off and let him be, and not try to fix everything with their love. maybe.

you bury your face in your pillow, effectively muffling down your cries while sukuna continues to knock on your door from time to time.

he guesses that you fell asleep so he stops knocking as he sits down on the floor with a small groan. the couch looks a lot more inviting than the hard floor, however sukuna can’t bring himself to be too far from you so he finds that it’s okay, he’ll wait for you.

he doesn’t even know when he falls asleep; realising that he was, in fact, sleeping when the door behind him suddenly opened and he is fully sprawled over the floor. “fucking hell—“ he curses under his breath, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his face before he glances up, meeting your nervous gaze. with the pain in his whole body forgotten, sukuna stands up abruptly, his face softening when he notices how you step away from him.

“sukuna? were you… sleeping on the floor?” you ask, your voice sounding a little hoarse as you look up at him unsurely.

he swallows, face scrunching up at the dryness in his mouth, and steps closer to you, closing the door behind himself.

“can we talk, baby?”

you look down and nod solemnly, walking back to your bed while he follows you like a lost puppy. sukuna’s fingers twitch with desire to touch you, any part of you. you crawl away from him though, backing yourself into the corner. covering, protecting yourself from him.

“i— uh, i didn’t mean all of that, y’know that, right?”

you stay silent, small fingers curling around the edges of your blanket.

“tell me you know it, baby, please—”

your voice comes out unsteady when you finally speak up, abused bottom lip trembling as you sniffle, “i don’t think i do, ‘kuna~”

sukuna reaches his hand out, tentative fingers creeping closer to you in an attempt to observe your reactions. your eyes follow his movements and you stare at his hand for a little while before your features fade into something too pitiful for him to grasp. as soon as he calls you by your name you start sobbing violently.

all of the hesitation leaves his mind as he immediately pulls you into himself and positions you between his spread out legs, arms wrapping around your body and tucking your head into his neck. it’s the worst feeling in the world because he is the reason why your fragile soul is rattling in hurt and agony. god, he wants to fucking punch himself in the face repeatedly, and even then it wouldn’t be enough for him to feel like he’s apologetic enough.

sukuna brushes your hair away from your face, hand sliding down to caress the side of it, but his movements still as soon as he hears your small voice,

“you didn’t have to be s-so mean about it.” you gaze up at him with eyes full of tears, “i could’ve taken your anger, but not… n-not that.”

placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, sukuna goes back to look you in the eyes, making sure his sincerity is apparent.

“‘m so sorry, baby, i don’t fucking deserve you.”

you bite your bottom lip in an attempt to stifle down another round of sobs and hide your face from him once again, arms circling around his neck.

you don’t give him a clear answer. sukuna is ready to wait for however long it takes.

[thekinslayed]

The Heavenly Ivory Touch of Your Hand

summary | The news of your husband's infidelity had driven you into Aegon's arms, your growing companionship tethering on the edge of decency.

pairing | aegon ii targaryen x aemond's wife!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! unprotected sex, infidelity, slight angst, injury, post rook’s rest aegon

wordcount | 3.3k

song rec | Heavenly - Grant Lee Phillips (title is a lyric from the song)

note | been in an aegon mode after ep1 of the new season 🫦 idk why i had to include aemond somehow, that man has my brain in a chokehold unfortunately

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

(divider by @zaldritzosrose)

What soft hands you had. Your touch was gentle, caring…  loving. They were a welcome sensation on Aegon’s skin, a sweet reprieve from the aches that only ever grew by the day. He could feel himself sink deeper into the feathered mattress, your touch massaging the knots he bore from the agitated tension his shoulders carried. It was not right to have you like this, but the lines between propriety have long been blurred by chaos.

“It is not your place as my brother’s wife to tend to my wounds,” Aegon mumbled, though he wasn’t one to complain, not when the salve on your fingertips brought salvation to his marred flesh. You hummed, continuing to apply the healing balm diligently.

“Yes, but you had driven away half your staff, the other half you won’t let even a hair’s breadth within your space. Who else is there to do it for you, brother?”

Your words rang true. The pain brought about by the memory of Rook’s Rest left Aegon irritable, brash, growing quick to anger at anyone and anything that displeased him. His staff were frightened to treat their king when he was so, grabbing the first opportunity to leave him be when he demanded. The treachery he had faced at the hands of his own people left him wary of any and all that walked through his home, the pain of losing his heir haunting his every thought. He couldn’t afford another travesty when he had lost so much. His wife had grown hysterical from grief, driven even farther away from his grasp than she already was. His mother was never really here, her heart still chained in his half-sister’s grasp, seeking a false sense of power by riding Cole whenever she could before he marched off. Perhaps Aegon was like her in a way, desperate to make a window in their own prison.

You were just as lonely as he, where he was alone in the numbing pain of his wounds, you were in a different prison— the isolating humiliation of the failure they all called a marriage. The news of Aemond’s infidelity left you broken and riddled with heartache. Where you waited and waited for the beastly sight of Vhagar flying over King’s Landing to signal his return, your husband had taken another to bed. The memory of reading the letter dropped by a raven from Harrenhal was a gray fog, the utter appalment that had overtaken your proper thinking caused you to block its actuality from your mind. The letter had come unsigned, maybe it was a servant who sent it, or Cole, perhaps it was the bastard witch herself, though it mattered little. The truth of the matter could not be denied when Aemond had been gone for nearly three moons now, and the whispers and looks of pity thrown your way could no longer be ignored.

Aegon wasn’t quite sure how you ended up in his midst when it happened. He figured you would lock yourself in your chambers in isolation, just like Helaena did, or wept at the Seven’s feet for guidance, just like his mother did. Instead, you had come to him, with the intention of tending his wounds at first, then came a natural companionship with each other. You had gotten along well, much better than even before the war.

When his joints felt better on brighter days, you would help him out of bed to walk; his cane in one hand, the other holding onto you for dear life. Not anywhere far, just in the halls of the royal apartments, away from curious eyes. You had even helped him bathe a few times, rubbing him clean without so much a look of disgust at the sight of his burnt half. Aemond would have definitely strangled the elder to death if he were ever to know, but the twat was hardly the face of honor and decency at the moment, and the king could care less what he thought. If Aegon was still the man he once was, he would have taken advantage of such mercy for something carnal, but his wounded spirit had never known such kindness. You tended to him in a way so foreign, so selfless, expecting naught in return.

Tonight, something was different. You hadn’t greeted him with that sweet smile of yours, one that Aegon always looked forward to every time you stepped into his chambers. You took your place on the edge of his bed quietly, grabbing the jar of salve and unscrewing its top without so much a word. The king was in a better condition tonight, no poppy milk to mar his mind blurred. There was a crease between your brows, and Aegon had to stop himself from brushing the tension away with his thumb. You were displeased.

“You are troubled,” he spoke up. Your eyes flickered to him under your lashes, before returning to your work on applying the balm on his side. Aegon hissed when you pressed on the wound a bit too harshly, which made you stop and utter an apology. “Sister,” he tried again, grabbing your wrist to stop you. You weren’t looking at him, your gaze trained to his grip on your flesh. He squeezed your wrist underneath his larger palm before asking, “What is it?”

Your eyes stung almost immediately, causing you to look away. You grabbed a cloth from Aegon’s bedside to wipe your hand clean, tugging on your flesh in a matter so harsh that it made your king look at you in concern. You took deep breaths, trying your hardest to swallow the piercing lump in your throat.

“She is with child,” you finally said, eyelashes flattering when your tears threatened to fall. The king scoffed in disbelief, shaking his head in disappointment. You didn’t have to utter who; your good brother-by-law already knew. Aemond used to be beyond such depravity, or so Aegon thought. His heart ached at the pitiful sight of you, with the way you avoided his eyes, scratching the inside of your wrist in an anxious habit. Your nails dug painfully into your flesh, rendering the skin a dark red to distract you from the agonizing swell of your heart. For the second time, Aegon grabbed your wrist to keep you from harming yourself, taking your smaller palm into his.

“I am sorry, sister,” he whispered in sincerity. “A fool he is. He may have lost one eye, but he is equally blind in both to see what he has lost. You are not deserving of such a man.”

You nodded at his words aimlessly, sniffling. Your eyes looked at anywhere but him, furiously blinking away your tears. In the days you had spent together, Aegon had learned you were one to detach yourself from your troubles, adamant to live in ignorance to save yourself the suffering. He used to be the same, but he had learned in the harshest way possible that pain would still find its way to you.

“He told me he loved me,” you chuckled darkly, through the corners of your lips quivered. You bit your lip, tilting your head back in a feeble attempt to push your tears back, before sighing. “He used to say I was the light of his life, that he could never wish to part from me, and he would return. Such flowery words from a liar.”

“My brother could have been a poet if he wasn’t a warrior, though he would be just as cruel with a pen as with a sword.”

You looked to your king with a pained smile, one which he returned, but a sob soon broke out from deep within your chest. Your beautiful face crumpled into sadness, your traitorous tears finally escaping. They left their mark on your cheeks, causing Aegon to wipe them in haste. His heart broke to see you like this, to see you suffering from a pain you did not deserve. You were the kindest being that had ever graced his days. Aegon may not be a devout man, but he liked to believe you were molded by the Mother’s hands, formed from her own essence. You were good, you were pure, everything the Targaryens were not. You never should have fallen into Aemond’s darkness, into their fiery madness.

“Come,” he bided, urging you to lay on the vast space beside him. You settled on the space by his good side, letting him take you into his bare chest. Avoiding his wounded side, you buried your head into the crook of his neck. Hot, salty tears left his skin damp, but Aegon couldn't care less, nor for the implications of the fact that anyone could come in and witness the king holding his brother’s wife in his arms. You were his priority.

“My daughter… she searches for him,” you sobbed, nuzzling closer into Aegon’s chest as he pulled you in tighter. “I don’t know what to tell her. How can I let her hold out hope when I am void of it myself? How do I gain the will to face him if he ever returns?”

Aegon sighed, his lips planting a kiss on your hair before he could stop himself. You smelled of fresh lavender, a scent so enticing and sweet. He couldn’t help peppering another kiss to your head, then another, before leaning his cheek against you.

“You do not have to, princess,” he said, his hand lowering to rub your back comfortingly. The king imagined the pair of you must look like lovers laid up like so, like man and wife. He cursed himself for thinking such thoughts while you wept for another, but his heart could never be silenced. “If you have no wish to be by his side, you will have it so. Your own apartments, your own space away from him. He would be turned away from your door if you command it. I shall see it done.”

“What will everyone else think? My name and reputation have been tainted by this disgrace,” you seethed, pushing yourself to lean on your elbow to look at Aegon. He could feel your breath on his face, could see you in perfect detail like this. Your pretty lashes had clumped from your tears, and a subtle flush had settled across your cheeks.

By the Seven, you were beautiful.

“I shall cut off any tongue that dares to speak against you, I promise this to you,” the king vowed, sealing his oath with a kiss to the inside of your wrist. You merely stared at him, searching for any signs of insincerity. You couldn’t bear another lie, and with Aegon you found none.

“Thank you, my king, thank you,” you expressed, pressing a reverent kiss on his scarred hand. Aegon felt blessed to have been bestowed such a touch on his ugliness, and he could only wish to be granted more.

“You need not thank me, sister,” he responded. With a rush of boldness, he cupped your jaw, a fiery hope stoking in his veins when you leaned into his touch. “I would do anything for you… anything.”

His words made you look at him, eyes clouded in thought. Aegon could practically feel the gears of your mind working, and for a moment, he worried. He must have overstepped his bounds, had put your friendship into jeopardy when he let too much of his affection show. The elder Targaryen opened his lips to speak, to deflect, but you had stunned him when you pressed your lips against his.

You pulled away in an instant to gauge his reaction, tracing the tingling remnants of his plump lips on yours with your fingertips. A look of shock you both mirrored, but before you could apologize, Aegon grabbed your arm, tugging you closer.

“Do it again,” he urged, to which you obliged obediently. He kept his hand on your occiput to keep you close, his tongue splitting your lips to deepen the kiss. Aegon had found bliss, with the way your tongue danced against his, your moan reverberating against his lips when he sucked on your plush, bottom lip. Your leg had slithered halfway across his waist, your calf rubbing his hardening length through his undergarments. The king groaned, squeezing your plump rear through your robe.

The comfort you found in the time you spent together had you only clad in your robe and nightgown during your late-night visits, seeing no harm in being in a state of undress with the silver-haired man. Aegon, however, had to hide the evidence of how much you affected him under his blankets. It was worse when the nights were chilly, and your nipples pebbled under the thin fabrics of your garments. The self-control he willed himself to bear was almost too much, but now his efforts were coming to fruition.

You pulled away to untie your robe, shrugging it off in haste before returning yourself to Aegon’s arm. Under the dim light of his chambers, the king could see the darker rims of your nubs, the teasing sight so enticing, he almost started salivating. He attached his lips to your clothed nipple, a dampness growing on the cotton from his spit. You sighed in delight, a whine following when his fingertips pinched your other breast.

“Aegon,” you mewled, the sound so sweet to the king’s ears. Your hand traveled down his unscarred chest, and down to his bulge. You squeezed him through his trousers, rubbing his clothed tip with your thumb. Aegon shamelessly moaned against your chest, hips subtly bucking into your touch. A dampness on his front started to mirror the ones on your nightgown, an ache in his tip making him bite the supple underside of your bosom. His larger palm settled on your waist, urging you to straddle his lap. You hesitated, refusing to move in fear of putting him in pain.

“I will hurt you,” you said, to which the king only replied with a fervent shake of his head.

“You won’t, I promise. P-please…” he insisted. You lifted your other leg, caging him between your thighs. Lifting the hem of your nightgown, you pulled the sheer cotton off, baring yourself to your king.

The air in Aegon’s lungs was taken away from the sight of you. He was stunned, his eyes trailing down your tantalizing form as he committed the sight to memory. If he were to perish on the morrow, he would do it happily if it meant seeing this image of you before he took his last breath.

“You are perfect,” he breathed out, a smile rising on his cheeks when you blushed.

He knew why you were doing this. It was your act of rebellion, your bitter revenge on your husband. Perhaps he should feel hurt, refuse to be used like a pawn, but if he got to have you like this, he could hardly complain.

With bated breath, he let you untie his undergarments, pull out his cock, and stroke it in your palm. It had twitched when you bent to drop a dribble of spit to lubricate his length, and Aegon couldn’t help but imagine all of the times in the past you must have done the same to his brother. Though he figured it mattered little when you were with him in the present, and he vowed to treat you well, better than Aemond ever could, so he may have you again in the future.

His length was hot and heavy against your palm, his scent heady with musk. You had barely spared it a glance when you would urge Aegon to let you apply the soothing balm to the scars on his lower body, but now, it stood tall, commanding your attention. You bit back a moan when you ran his tip against your slit, though your king made no effort to hide his delight. You were growing deliciously wet, painting his tip with your arousal. He would have to taste you next time; perhaps make you ride his face. What a wonderful treat that would be.

Deeming yourself ready, you looked to Aegon. He held your cheek, urging you close for another kiss. It was deep, all-consuming, a silent vow from him to you.

I am yours.

Take me as you wish.

Pulling away, you grabbed his length once more, aligning his tip to your entrance. You both moaned in delight when you began to sink onto his cock, burying him to the hilt. It was a delicious stretch, bringing about a deep satisfaction in your chest after having gone untouched for so long. Aegon gripped your waist tight when you began to bounce up and down at a steady pace, seemingly eager to chase your release without needing the time to adjust.

You mounted him like a horse, your loyal steed. Expert hips moved with grace, your hand planting on Aegon’s stomach to steady yourself. You rode him with an air of desperation like you had a point to prove. You wanted to feel that you were still desirable as a woman, and you needed him to prove it true.

Aegon’s mind was in the heavens. Your walls swallowed him so deliciously, it rendered him witless. He moaned unabashedly, echoing your name into the night. In all his depravity and frivolities, nothing tasted better than fucking your brother’s wife. You were a sight to behold, with your glistening, bouncing breasts and head tilted back in delight. Your brows furrowed while your jaw fell slack, the sweet, sweet music of your pleasure filling his senses. Tears had started to streak down your cheeks; from pleasure or guilt, he knew naught.

Before him was no princess, no, you were a goddess divine.

The wounded king had started to buck his hips against yours, but his weakened body made it difficult to help you chase your release. Pain bloomed on his side, making him grit his teeth. You had slowed your movements from the momentary look of discomfort on his face, making you cup his face in return.

“My king–"

“No, no, keep going, please! Don’t stop,” he babbled, gripping your waist tight to make you continue your ministrations. You could hardly express your worry when his strong grip made you lean over with a yelp, holding onto the headboard above his head. From this position, your breasts dangled over Aegon’s face at a perfect angle. He took your teat into his mouth, suckling the plump mound. The air was starting to grow thick with the smell of sex. Sweat dribbled down your back, as it did on Aegon’s temples.

“I’m so close, gods!” Your thighs were starting to tremble under Aegon’s palms, and he could only hold onto your plump rear to guide you to your release. With a thumb drawing tight circles on your pearl, it took little time for your walls to start squeezing his cock, signaling the start of your release. You came with a cry of his name, your king following suit with a muffled grunt into your chest. His warm seed painted your walls, and he could only hope you would let it find its home in your womb.

Perhaps he could make you round with child, yes, that would surely cement his victory over his brother.

You had returned to his side, breathlessly plopping down onto the mattress. Burrowing yourself into his chest, you let out a delighted hum as your lover planted a kiss on your forehead. Tilting your head to look at him, you found his lips once more. In the dead of night, no other words had been exchanged, just your sighs of contentment.

It was then you heard the thunderous flap of a dragon’s wings over the city. Aegon was startled into defensive alertness, assuming it was their enemy, but the look of utter dread on your face when the dragon’s monstrous size blanketed the Keep in its shadow signified it was no foe.

Aemond had returned.

[jukeboxsweethearttt]

OlderSugarDaddyBoyfriend!Rafe Headcannons💋

inspired by @starfxkr ‘s SugarDaddy!Rafe

song in mind

SFW

• He has 3 daughters and they’re just happy their dad and mom aren’t in that toxic ass marriage anymore but that’s the only reason they tolerate you being that much younger than their dad.

• His oldest daughter is 5 years older than you, His middle is the same age as you and his youngest is three years younger than you.

• He’s 52 while you’re 21 so you have a 31 year age gap;)

• I imagine you living in like New York or New Jersey and he met you on a business trip while he was still married to his wife.

• The two of you were messing around for 3 months before his wife filed for divorce (she was having a 4 year long affair with Rafe’s business partner but we’ll talk about her more later)

• The day before the two of you met your parents threatened to cut you off and make you get a job after you got into a fight at the club with a girl and they had to bail you out of jail.

• But luckily for you, you met Rafe and you’ll never have to work again;)

• Moves you into his house 4 months after his divorce is finalized (his youngest daughter still lives with him because she wouldn’t stay with her mom either way)

• The old ladies who thought they would have a chance with Rafe after the divorce despise you.

• His nicknames for you: Bunny,Minx,Princess and Your actual name he’s not big on nicknames

• Your nicknames for him: Daddy Or Old man no in between :)

NSFW

• You would think him being a old man would effect his stamina but hadn’t so much of gave him a handjob for years before their divorce so he uses all that pent up “aggression” and it matches your young hyper sexualness

• Never uses protection because you claim “he’s an old man with no more swimmers.” and you live by that until you end up pregnant… Twice and his daughters are lowkey pissed

• He’s so old and matured so I know he gives THE BEST head and doesn’t expect anything in return like the boys your age do

• He wasn’t a big fan of PDA when he was with his wife but he loves when you shove your tongue down his throat in public to make people uncomfortable

• Idk something is telling me he likesfeet like he loves missionary because he’s still an old man so he loves sticking your big toe in his mouth and sucking it while he gives you deep strokes.

• 9 inches , cut subtle curve to the left , peachy pink tip with a tan ish base, full this just has the perfect amount of girth bigger than any one you’ve been with younger than him

That’s all I can think of for now!! If you have any suggestions on what I should write about him plz send an ask!!💋💋💋

[luveline]

what about aaron x inexperienced!reader,(Maybe she's a teacher? Or is that too close to ur other teacher ones?) who's like in her 30s but has never been in a relationship so is surprised when hotch asks her out, and she wants to date him yes but she is so awkward about it. She does not know how to date or flirt it's painful and funny, and this poor middle aged man has to navigate it because he likes her

“Hello.” 

Hotch talks to you with a fondness that gives him away, he knows. He likes your surprise too much. 

You flinch a few steps from your front door with one earphone in, the other falling out at your sudden movement. When you turn to him, he thinks you’re prettier than you know. You're shy and then smiling, all surprise swapped for an eagerness to see him. 

“Hi, Aaron. What are you doing here?” 

He’d parked at the end of your street to stop your annoying neighbours complaining, and it’s no surprise you hadn’t heard him coming —he can be light on his feet when he wants to be— yet he can’t help feeling remorseful for sneaking up on you when he hears that breathlessness that colours your tone. 

He laughs. “Sorry, honey. Would you have liked some warning?” 

And flirting is just as bad as sneaking. He can practically see the steam pouring from your ears as you realise what it is he’s doing. “Yes,” you say weakly. “I think so.” 

Hotch closes the stretch of sidewalk and gravel driveway between you to stop just in front of you. “Sorry. Can I apologise? Is that okay?” 

“What–” You clutch your phone and keys to your stomach. “What sort of apology?” 

“A gentle one.” He raises his brows. 

You touch his chest hesitantly. Hotch grins at your silent go-ahead, taking your upper arm into a hand to hold you as he ducks his head carefully to one side and leans in, your eyes falling shut. Your lips connect, a kiss he’d describe as tame and you perhaps wouldn’t shared between you. He’s very careful with you in your shyness, but his hand gets away from him, squeezing up your shoulder until his thumb is rubbing at your neck. You kiss back slowly. His chest burns with it. 

He turns his head and takes a short second kiss, leaning away reluctantly. 

He wants to ask, Forgive me? but he fears that’ll send you into a meltdown. Your eyes flutter open, mildly, mildly dazed, and he doesn’t have the self control to stop from stealing half a hug. Face pressed to yours, his lips on your forehead. 

“I’ve come to see you because JJ thinks we might be requested out of state tomorrow. Or, she’s hoping we will be. There’s a bad case she’s following in Tampa that won’t accept our help.” Hotch pulls away to see you clearly. “Are you busy?” 

“No.” You clear your throat. “No, I’m not busy. You’re welcome. I mean, you’re always welcome to come see me.” 

You’re so apologetic about it that Hotch actually considers sitting you down for the conversation he’s been planning early. It’s evident to him that you are… inexperienced. Hotch is in no rush, and so doesn’t care nor mind, and surely wouldn’t care anyhow. But he doesn’t like that you seem to mind. 

He quite enjoys you. It’s amazingly enjoyable to be met with this much timidity; it’s both endearing to watch you fluster and gratifying to think he can have this effect on you. It is only occasionally exhausting. (See: when he tried to rub an eyelash off of the well of your eye at dinner and you immediately closed your eyes to wait for it to be over, and then stammered for the rest of the evening, despite his well-intentioned hand on your thigh that failed to calm you.) 

“What do you want to do?” you ask. 

Honestly, he’s not fussy. Hotch just wanted time in your company. He thought about it on the way over, and he knows that women appreciate dinner and drinks and being shown proudly, but he also knows you for who you are, and he assumes that without prior warning, you’ll likely want something small. Takeout, a cable box office movie. He wants to hold your hand and he wants to lay you out and kiss you, too, but mostly he wants to see your smile when you’re relaxed. It’s ten times as beautiful as the flustered one. Your eyes get heavy and you let yourself press your cheek to his shoulder when the lights are off. 

He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and guides your lips back to his. 

There’s time for both tonight, kissing and your smile. 

“I have some stuff to grade,” you say, letting your face fall forward, your nose to his lips. “Lots of stuff I’ve been putting off, but I– I’m a free agent after that.” 

“Then let’s grade them, honey.” 

“I’ll order in?” you ask tentatively. 

“Yeah, whatever you want.” You laugh guiltily. He pulls back. “What? What’s that laugh mean?” 

“I think we should go inside.” 

You offer your hand, which he takes, but he’s too stubborn to let it go as you lead him to your door. “What’s funny? Don’t make me ask you again.” 

You laugh again. “Aaron, if I told you what I want, I think I’d spend the next week in hiding. Or hospital.” 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“Stop. Just… let me grade my milk cartons and tease me afterward.” 

Hotch smiles to himself and gives the back of your hand a loving rub. It’s as good a plan as any for the night. 

[annabelle--cane]

would jon actually go out and about in cool/gnc outfits? probably not, at least not when we know him, as he starts off horrifically insecure about being taken seriously in a way that doesn't lend itself to allowing one to wear cool outfits, and after that his clothing concerns likely become largely "what would present the least hindrance were I to get kidnapped while wearing it?" which, again, doesn't leave a lot of room for fun. what I do believe with my whole heart is that he inherited a certain amount of expensive jewelry and clothing from his mother and grandmother that he wouldn't have felt right getting rid of, and, every so often, if he's "bored," he will decide to "play a bit of dress up" "for fun" and end up feeling a profound ache so deep in chest that he thinks he might need to take the entire next week off work just to process it. and then he pointedly pretends that never happened.

[visenyaism]

“blood and cheese killing jaehaerys was an accident in the show” is one of those things that is correct on a surface level but when you consider it more i think it’s obvious that Daemon knew damn well that no matter how violent and cruel they were willing to be two lifelong flea bottom residents (one gold cloak and one ratcatcher) acting out of desperation for a life-changing amount of money probably couldn’t take a prince of the realm who has had proper nutrition his whole life and had training with the sword since childhood in a fight. which is why he pointed out to them that they were going to struggle to take aemond in a fight. and emphasized that this was their one crack at the red keep.

and he knew what emphasizing that information as well as waving fuck-off life changing money in their faces would push them to do once they got in the castle, that maybe they wouldn’t want to find aemond at all. which is why when they asked “what do we do if we can’t find aemond” he just smirked at them. lord flea bottom does in fact know how to manipulate people with their own poverty into doing his dirty work or make him feel good he is very familiar with this

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 4]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: It is very, incredibly important not to get attached to someone who will no doubt be leaving you high and dry to die stranded on an island any day now—be they man or fish. And you are definitely, definitely following that rule. For sure.

🌶️ Obligatory Warning for Mild Spice

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

The next morning, there was a conch shell set beside the familiar offering of half-mauled fish.

The insides were a shining, pearlescent pink—smooth and sleek. You picked it up curiously and turned it over in your palms. You’d never seen such a complete one before. Normally they were at least a bit dinged, cracked here or there along the thin edges. But this one was practically perfect. It sat heavy and warm in your palm, and you brushed a finger along the rough ridges.

You looked up and the Siren was lounging at the shoreline, waiting expectantly.

“Thank you,” you said. “It’s really pretty.”

He preened, the fins along the side of his head fluttering wide and colorful. You huffed, amused, and set the shell neatly at the forefront of your slowly accumulating corner of Things. You’d rebuilt the little shanty shelter that he’d had his seagull minions pick apart into useless nonsense that first day together, and it wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep some of the sun off your shoulders at the height of the afternoon and would probably (maybe) hold up under a bit of rain. And that pleasantly cozy hovel of yours was where you’d been keeping your Stuff. The best sticks for poking at the fire, a rock that you’d found with a dip in the middle that made it sort of, almost a bowl if you squinted hard enough, bunches of drying beach grasses that you’d been tediously twining together into bits of rope and other nonsense. That sort of thing.

You placed the conch shell on the roof of it, prodding at it with the tips of your fingers until it sat just so. Like a figurehead on a ship. The crown jewel on your little mess of ferns and driftwood.

“What do you think?” you asked, turning back to the Siren. “Really brings the room together, huh?”

He puffed something under his breath and rolled those amethyst eyes of his, but there was a curl to his lips that looked far more amused than irritated.

You trudged back over and plopped beside him in the sand, the soft, low roll of the waves playing against your toes.

“Today feels like it’s going to be gross again,” you sighed, squinting up at the sun overhead in distaste. The big ball of glowing fire had barely crawled its way over the horizon and already it felt like the world was beginning to steam.

The Siren curled his claws around your ankle and tugged.

You arched a brow at him and he pushed his stupidly, perfectly shaped ones up right back. Like he was positive that he could out stink-face you with ease.

“It’s too early to swim,” you complained.

He tugged again.

“I can’t be in the water that long. You’re going to turn me into a prune.”

He said something back, mouth quirking in irritation, and you focused hard on the shape of it. His expression smoothed with that familiar, near-eerie perception of his and he was reaching forward to dig his free fingers into the sand at your hip.

‘Don’t know what that is.’

“It’s like a—” you frowned, waving your hand around your head. “Y’know. A fruit, that’s gone pruney. A prune.”

He looked at you like you were the dumbest human he’d ever met, and to be fair you very well could have been. You doubted it was an extensive list. And even if it was, you tended to have a proclivity for landing near the top of those illustrious sorts of rankings either way. At least that’s what your Captain saw fit to remind you ad nauseum.

So, like the very mature and intellectually competent person that you were, you kicked a mess of seawater right into his face. And then the Siren was screaming something silent and mad that had all the goosebumps on your arms popping up to say hello, and he was dragging you into the shallows ass first. You skidded along the wet sand and landed in the white surf with a laugh that you had to swallow real fast. Because if you drowned in three inches of water just because you couldn’t manage to not choke to death on a giggle fit, you’d never forgive yourself.

.

.

That night, you were lounging by the fire with a belly full of seared snapper and the Siren curled just as contentedly only a few feet away. His fins were splayed out across the damp sands, and you couldn’t help but compare them yet again to some of the finest, spun silks you’d ever seen. Even when they’d been pinched and shredded beneath the prickly teeth of your ropes, they’d still been lovely. But now that they were near-fully-healed, the spread of them was truly impressive.

And they were. Almost healed, that is. You could barely make out the trailing, scar-puckered lines of even the biggest tears anymore. Which was good! Great, even. Because that meant he’d be able to begin his journey home soon, didn’t it? And then at least one of you would manage to get away from this barren mess of rocks and sand.

There was a thump against your thighs that had you jolting back into focus, and you looked down to see a pair of familiar, gem-cut irises staring back in the dark.

The Siren was glaring up at you like there was a Purpose to his sudden loss of personal boundaries, and you blinked down at him in confusion. After a long moment of nothing but your silent gawking, his brow started to pinch and the skin around his eyes went tight with irritation. The fins along his ears rippled like a pissy cat raising its hackles in preparation to lunge, and you cautiously placed a hand against the edge of one. The grumpy fluttering stopped all at once, and if you were a touch more sun-poisoned you would say that those delicate, purple pins relaxed against your palm. Either way, you were clearly on the right track. So you let your fingers trail down towards his temples, and then to the salt-curled waves of his hair. His eyes slipped closed with a pleasant rumble that you could feel all along your skin, and you puffed in half-hearted irritation. Prickly, fussy, bastard man.

You weren’t really sure what he wanted, but for now the gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp seemed to do the trick. After a few cycles of lazy petting, you let your fingers catch in some of the softer, pale hair beneath his fins. It was a bit tangled—possibly from all that frilly posturing of his—and you carefully began picking apart the small knots there one by one. Once those were cleared away, you found yourself with little else to do but sit and play with the newly freed waves of lavender-tipped gold. You tucked one strand over the next, twisting the familiar pattern of a simple braid beneath your palms.

“Deuce grew his hair out at one point,” you chattered idly as you wove those silky locks together beneath your fingers. “That’s someone from my ship, by the way. Deuce. Anyways. He thought it’d make him look more rugged, or whatever. But he just ended up looking like some rogue, sea elf, and everyone was teasing him about how he’d gone for ‘windswept sailor’ and ended up with ‘foppish, little lordling.’ So he chopped it all off again.”

The Siren hummed, and you could feel it against the pads of your fingers.

“Which was a real shame,” you continued. “Because obviously I spent all that time learning to braid it, but also because it actually looked pretty nice—OUCH! What is your problem—"

You yanked your hand away from his sharp teeth and cradled your smarting fingers to your chest. Because the stupid fish had bitten you! Not hard, or anything. Just a little nip. But it’d still hurt. If less as a genuine injury and more as a sting to your pride.

The Siren spat something quick and harsh under his breath, turning up his nose like you’d been the one to err here, and not his wandering fangs.

“What?” you huffed, reaching out to flick at those purple fins in irritation. They twitched against the side of his head to smack at your fingers. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I not allowed to call anyone else pretty, your highness?”

The Siren rolled his eyes with a look that screamed ‘well, duh,’ and you forced your irritation to override the little, bursting bubble of fondness in your chest. So silly, so silly. This ridiculously primped fish of yours.

“Well, too bad,” you grouched, tugging at the end of that half-bound braid. “Just because you win ‘most attractive specimen on the island’ doesn’t mean you get to tell me to pretend I’m blind on top of being deaf. Let me have something, you prick.” And it wasn’t like it was much of a competition—seeing as the entrants were you, him, and the octopus (if you were being generous). Less of a contest and more of a merciful slaughter, perhaps. A kindness that you were even allowed to share the same stage at all.

The Siren muttered something low and amused under his breath, the amethyst in his irises twinkling with the crackling, orange light of the embers beside you. He reached up to twist his claws along your palm and snatch the hand he’d so viciously nipped—bringing it down to eyelevel to observe it more closely in the dim glow of the fire. There was a steady trickle of blood bubbling up along your thumb. Honestly, not much worse than a papercut. Nevertheless, his brow quirked at the soft trail of red and his gaze jumped up to yours with a pointed sort of curiosity.

“What were you expecting to happen? Humans are fragile,” you huffed. “At least more than you are. It’s not like I have scales or things to keep me safe.”

His mouth tucked down on a frown, and his tail swept irritably back and forth through the sand.

“What? It’s not like you didn’t know that,” you tried, awkward. Because he ate stupid, little flesh bags like you for breakfast. Surely he ought to be well aware that there wasn’t much there. Just skin, and muscle, and all the gory, gooey bits beneath. Just like how you knew what it felt like to bite into a piece of bread, or the crunch of an apple. Solid enough to survive in its own right, but something that would give beneath your teeth easily enough that calling it anything other than ‘delicate’ would have been a gross exaggeration.

He turned your palm this way and that, brow pinching down more and more with each fresh prick of crimson. His tail beat against the sand and his talons curled up and away from your skin—like he was worried just touching your fragile, little, egg-shell of an exterior would burst it.

“It’s fine,” you blurted out, still far too confuddled over his progressive panic. You pulled your hand away from his claws and popped your finger in your mouth. “See?” you garbled around the faint taste of copper. And then pulled it out with a pop to show him the slowing trickle. “Totally fine. Just a scratch.”

The Siren watched that little bubble of red with all the vigilance of a hawk eyeing its super, and then he was snatching your wrist back between his talons and dragging your hand down towards his own mouth. And oh my God, this was it. He’d finally decided to eat you after all. What was it? Had your oh-so-breakable human foibles finally pushed him over the edge? Or was it the blood? Were Sirens like sharks? Driven to hungry frenzy by the very scent of your—

There was a gentle, wet warmth along your skin and you blinked through your hysteric descent into adrenaline-manic-mania to see the Siren carefully cleaning the blood along your cut, just as you had only moments before—his tongue running smooth lines along the teeny wound until the sore skin was tingling and spotless. Granted, his endeavors were carried out with a great deal more delicacy than your earlier example of just shoving your whole finger into your mouth like a gremlin, but…

“Uhm—” you spluttered, too gobsmacked to come up with much else. “You—ah—you don’t have to—uh—"

The Siren grumped something at you that you could feel the shape of against your palm, and then returned to diligently wiping away each new drop as it appeared. It was a strange sort of sensation. Not bristly like a cat’s tongue, but certainly not all human. There was a sting to it—something hot and prickly. Poison, maybe? Or… something. Whatever it was, it had the hair on the back of your neck rising to attention and a shiver working along your shoulders. He kept at, silent and meticulous, until finally—finally—the bleeding slowed to a stop. He hummed and turned your palm this way and that, looking over the drying nick in your skin like an artist admiring their work.

Once he was content with whatever it was he’d been searching for, he tucked your hand back along the fins at the side of his head and butted up against your palm in as blatant of a ‘get back to work’ as you’d ever seen.

You swallowed the weird mess of something that had clawed its way up to tangle your tongue and dug your nails back against his scalp just to give yourself something to do other than—than—

“I hope you don’t expect me to do that for you,” you babbled, still far too out of your head with What In The Fuck Was That to do much but gawk like an absolute imbecile at the fact that he’d actually, factually, just—

The Siren rolled his eyes and reached over to drag the point of his talon along the sand at your hip.

‘No need. Already healed.’

You barked out a startled laugh and tugged at the ends of his hair. Your fingers caught at the edge of the braid you’d been weaving, loosening one of the twining sections, and he was hissing and swatting your hands back into place—poking around with his dark claws at the little end you’d fussed with until it was exactly how it had been. And then was dragging your hands back to the half-woven bulk of it with a pointed snarl that was clearly an order to finish what you started, human. Or else.

“Okay, okay, jeesh. I’m on it.”

The Siren trilled low and rumbling under his breath, and beneath the weight of your palm it almost felt like the steady drone of a cat’s purr. Warm, and pleasant, and comfortable in a way you couldn’t quite place. The thin strands of chain-twined-rope you’d woven to make his necklace pressed into your thighs with a scratchy tickle, and the pretty piece of sea glass at its end reflected the low light of the fire in a kaleidoscope of purples. His fins flicked against your fingers in a steady tempo, and when you gave in and pinched one he was rolling onto his side to shove the full weight of himself into your lap. You whined, and bitched, and complained about suffocation, and the stupid bastard of a fish just smacked his tail indignantly against the wet sand and draped over you even more.

Seven, he was such a nightmare. And you were going to miss him so, so much.

.

.

The next day passed in much the same way as the one before, and the day after that, and the day after that. And as pleasant as it was, you couldn’t help but feel like the headsman's axe was hanging over your neck. Always there—just a breadth away from falling.

You were fixing your Siren’s hair—redoing that braid of his that he insisted you tuck into his golden locks each and every morning—and normally he was quite responsive to your prattling. Flicking you with his fins and curling his tail along your ankles as you rambled. A silent, steady way of expressing his interest when you couldn’t hear his own responses in return. But today he was… distant. Amethyst eyes locked on the grand expanse of the ocean before you with a forlorn sort of expression on his face. The water was still and quiet today, with sunlight bouncing off the low, rolling waves in a pretty glimmer like the glow off his own, shining scales.

You trailed off, fingers falling from his finished braid to twist in your lap. And he just kept staring. Fins half-pricked along the side of his head and gaze heavy with focus.

You swallowed around the tightness in your chest and forced a smile. You hopped to your feet with a merry, little bounce and reached down to pat him on the shoulder.

“It seems like a nice day for a swim,” you said, and ignored how you could feel your nerves eating through the words. The wobble of them in your throat.

The Siren startled, as much as someone as grandly majestic as he could really do such a thing, and turned your way with a fondly exacerbated huff. He held up a hand, like he was expecting to drag you along with him into the lulling tide, and you shooed away his fingers. His brow pinched and his mouth turned down at the corners.

“For you, I mean,” you clarified. Like your blatant stepping away from the water’s edge wasn’t an obvious rejection in its own right. You turned back out towards the ocean beyond your little cove. “Your fins are doing a lot better, aren’t they? You could probably stretch them a bit, right? With how smooth the waters are today.”

He hummed, considerate, gaze skirting out to track your own. You swallowed around another ball of prickling ice in your throat and kept your grin buoyant and encouraging.

And then he turned back and offered you his hand again.

You frowned, confused. “I can’t follow you out there.”

He rolled his eyes and leaned forward to dig his talons into the damp sand.

‘I will swim with you.’

A pause, where he reached out to poke at your ankle with a pointed jab, jab, jab before finishing off with a—

‘Like always. Stupid.’

“Oh, yeah? Well, I won’t be so stupid when you ditch me halfway out and I drown in the riptide,” you harrumphed and his eyes narrowed grumpily.

He dragged his claws through the sand in short, angry jerks.

‘Won’t leave.’

“Uh-huh,” you drawled, swallowing stiffly again when that curl of awful something tightened behind your ribs. Hoping you could manage to choke it down. It sat heavy and unpleasant on the back of your tongue, like food gone off.

He underlined the ‘won’t’ with hard, pissy strokes.

“How about this,” you tried, because man oh man, you couldn’t do this. It was going to turn you into a ridiculously weepy, clingy mess if he kept talking (writing?) like this. “Prove that your fins work well enough to keep you up and alive before I risk it. And then we can go from there.”

The Siren huffed, sending the longer ends of his hair flipping out to the sides. But those gem-cut eyes of his kept flicking out to sea, and you could see the tip of his tail twitching back and forth—like he was itching to just leap forward and swim. The fins along his ears pricked up again, and then he was turning his nose up at you with some petulant comment under his breath and diving forward into the surf. He smacked his tail down with a splash!, drenching you in a mess of salt and seafoam. You spat, and hacked, and scrubbed the water from your eyes.

“Great way to prove you won’t try and drown me!” you called, hands cupped over your mouth and still spluttering around lingering saltwater. He reared up quick enough to swipe another wave your way before slipping back under, and you laughed through the spray of mist.

You settled yourself back in the sand, ankles crossed and chin pillowed in your knees, and watched the shadow of him dance just beneath the surface—starting in his familiar, looping circles before slowly venturing towards the mouth of the cove. He paced along the breakwater, pectoral fins cresting above the waves to glint bright and sleek in the light of the morning. And then he was darting forward with a great beat of his tail, spraying salt behind him as he dove towards the depths. You waited, anxious, as one moment faded to the next, and then—finally—there was a burst of frothing bubbles as he broke the surface with a great, curling leap—fins flared wide like the wings of a great bird and scales shining like jewels. It was nearly effortless, how he crested over the water. Diving back down in a mess of spitting mists with a flick of those long, trailing fins. He leapt up again, twisting in the air to crash down on his back and it almost looked like he was dancing. You could see the white flash of his grin even from all the way where you were sat. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him so happy. Truly, a sight worthy of every grand tale you’d heard of the Sirens of the Sea.

He circled the mouth of the bay at least a dozen times more—fast, and wild, and breaching the waves in a burst of seafoam like he was trying to give every pod of dolphins out there a run for their money. Gradually, he began to lose steam, and those grand leaps melted into soft curls of his tail in the tide. And honestly, this was the part where you expected him to sink beneath the surface and glide off into the sunset. You braced yourself for it—for the moment that golden head of his would vanish beneath the water and never pop back up again—but instead he bobbed closer.

The Siren rolled in with the waves, panting, and flushed, and looking like someone coming off of a marathon. The muscles all along his torso were jittery with the strain of it, and he looked positively exhausted. Ecstatic beyond compare, but exhausted. He slipped up the damp shore with wobbly arms and came to a stop at your side before very gracelessly and rudely flopping the entirety of his sopping wet bulk onto your person and squashing you into the muck.

You squawked, rightfully indignant, and he just puffed against your neck and let his tail smack harder against your flailing legs.

“You’re going to crush me!” you wailed, shoving at his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes and curled his fins along your hips—spreading himself out in the sands like your complaints held no merit whatsoever. You could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against yours, and the rabbit-fast thump-thump-thump of his heart. His skin was so warm. You could even feel the heat of it off his scales, which you hadn’t even thought was possible. Weren’t all fishy, scaly things supposed to be cold? Slimy, and gross, and like poking a wet blob of some unmentionable gunk scraped off the hull of a ship? Instead it was just… smooth. Glass-polish sleek and all warm muscle twined along your much, much smaller self.

You cleared your throat and turned to blow a frustrated raspberry against the sand.

“You do realize if you break all my bones that there isn’t going to be anyone to cook your stupid fish for you anymore.”

The Siren grumbled something against your shoulder that almost felt like the breathy puff of a laugh, and then he was collapsing all over again with a sigh that ruffled all the soft, short hairs at the nape of your neck. He scrubbed his cheek against the curve of your throat and you froze. Because it almost felt like—was he purring?

A deep, low, tremulous thing that you could feel rumbling against your skin. Like laying a hand against a mast strung too tight in a storm. Or maybe more like that one time you’d found a stray cat lounging in the sun by the docks—the sweet, old thing chirping softly beneath your palm in a lulling drone that tickled all the way up your arm.  

The Siren’s purr wasn’t quite like either of those things, but perhaps a mix of the two. Dangerous but warm, powerful but cosseted. More predator than pet, and, well, that’s what he was, wasn’t he? And honestly, it was pretty nice. A language you could feel rather than hear, something just for you.

So you let yourself relax beneath the weight of his scaly bulk with a sigh that wasn’t quite as aggrieved as you would have liked, and his tail twisted another loop around your calves. His fins spread around the pair of you like a roll of fine silks, and while the texture wasn’t exactly soft, they were delicate enough not to feel suffocating or coarse either. Sleek and cool to the touch, and maybe the thickness of canvas. And there were just so many of them. Long, and trailing, and ruffled along the edges like the folds of a fine-boned fan. Your weird, purple blanket. If Riddle ever found out you’d been using a Siren as bed linens, he’d probably have an aneurism and scrub you in one of the scullery buckets for a week straight.

It was stupidly easy to fall asleep like that—wrapped up in lavender and plum, with the thrum of his heart next to yours. You napped all through the afternoon, and only woke up once the sun had set over the horizon.

You blinked awake to stars in the sky and a strange, scratchy sensation at your hip.

The Siren had apparently finished up whatever little bout of insanity that had made him think you’d be the perfect impromptu pillow. He hadn’t gone far—or even anywhere at all really—but he was propped up at the hip now instead of crushing you into the shore. His hand was resting just beneath the hem of your shirt, right over the origin of that bizarre, ticklish feeling. You blinked again to clear the salt and sleep-grit from your eyes, and realized it was his talons. Not ripping, or tearing, or rending. Just very, very carefully tracing a set of shapes into your skin. The same three symbols, over and over. Up, and down, and up, and curled.

He traced those shapes again, and again, and again. It was almost—you’d think it was letters, if not for the strange, swirling pop of them. Almost like the words he’d written in his own language all those days ago. His claw dragged along the skin there in the faintest prickle, leaving slowly growing streaks of red in their wake with each repetition. You opened your mouth, ready to ask him what exactly he was so painstakingly etching into your hip, and paused.

You’d realized over the past however many weeks you’d been marooned on this little crescent of sand and stone that maybe Sirens weren’t all you’d thought them to be. And that maybe you really didn’t know much about them at all. Something about the slow, cautious way that his claws were tracking along your skin made you think that this was another of those things that you just didn’t get. And going by how quiet he was, how stalwart and careful he was being not to let the knife-sharp curves of those talons dig too deep or do anything other than trace back and forth, and back and forth, it might be something… Something important. Or at the very least something that you had no business bothering him about.

Least of all if he’d be leaving any day now.

So you tossed your head back on a very loud, very dramatic yawn and used the ensuing stretch to gently swat his hands away.

He didn’t look put out by your ridiculous show of flopping around and scooching out of his grip, so that was good at least. You sat up and rubbed at your eyes, and he just kept staring. Kept to his place in the soft, wet sand not a foot away and eyes sharp in the lowlight of the evening.

“Well,” you chuffed on another yawn. “I’m starving. Dinner?”

The Siren rolled his eyes and dipped his chin in what could perhaps generously be classified as a nod. He reached up to flick at the mused braid in his hair with a pointed scowl—twisted and tangled from the salt of the sea and his earlier rambunctious tomfoolery. You sighed, overly put upon, and hefted your way to your feet.

“Yes, yes. And I’ll fix your stupid hair.”

Another nod, this one far more pleased, and the Siren settled himself neatly back into the low roll of the waves to watch you work.

.

.

The next morning when you clawed your way back into consciousness, the Siren was already awake and staring off into the distance.

The fins along his head were pricked in that same, focused way from before that made you think of a hound dog catching a scent. There was a strange sort of energy about him—not quite nervous, but certainly not anything comfortably at ease either. Unsettled. Jittery. The end of his tail flicked against the sand, and the fins along his spine curled and arched to an unsung tempo.

You followed the path of his leer and didn’t see much of anything yourself. Just an endless stretch of blue in all directions with the occasional white crack of a wave breaking along its surface.

His tail smacked at the muck again and you felt something tight and stupidly, stupidly selfish curl in your stomach.

You swallowed it down, just like you’d said you would. Because you’d meant it when you’d told him he deserved his happy ending, and you weren’t going to let the rotten, nervous thing growing in your guts stop him from having that. Not that you could even if you wanted to, but it was the principle.

“…are you going to swim again today?” you asked, and one of those fins swiveled in your direction. You came to stand at his side and curled your toes in the sand to keep yourself steady. “You should, you know. To make sure everything is really all fixed.”

The Siren tore his gaze away from the sea to cant his head at you with a sharp, suspicious narrowing of his eyes.

You held your hands up in defense. “I’m just saying. You want to be able to go home, don’t you? Back to your pod?”

He frowned, tight, but his glare flickered back out to the mouth of the bay like he couldn’t help himself.

After a long, long moment, he reached out and dug his claws into the sand.

‘Not safe yet.’

You arched a brow. “Oh, come on. I’m sure it’s fine. If anyone could make it back, it’d be you.”

He turned back your way and arched a brow, looking entirely unconvinced.

You huffed and crossed your arms. “Don’t get all modest now. You’re the most obnoxiously proud person I’ve ever met—fish or otherwise. I’m sure you can do anything you set your mind to.”

His brow pinched again, and there was something almost like worry sparking in those amethyst eyes of his.

“Look—” you said, reaching out to plant a palm against his shoulder. “If it doesn’t work out, you can always just come right back here, okay? It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

You weren’t going to think about how nice that sounded, and how absolutely, bitterly selfish it was to hope that he’d turn right back around and head back. You weren’t.

The Siren’s brow pinched and he turned back to the open water, fins rippling against his sides and mouth twisted down at the corners.

You tugged at the braid in his hair.

“Don’t make me tie you back up again just so I can drag you out.”

He scoffed and spat something at you that looked like it was properly bitchy, and it had your lips quirking on a smirk. But prissiness or no, he’d started to let himself slip down against the surf, to lull deeper into the shallows and flare his fins at his sides for balance rather than a show of irritation.

You swallowed the last, lingering bite of dread at the back of your throat and offered him a winning smile.

The Siren huffed, and right before he sunk all the way into the water, he set his talons by your feet and scribbled—

‘Do not do anything stupid.’

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved off. “Sure.”

He underlined the ‘do not’ with a harsh sneer that could have made paint curl and the fiercest of generals quake in their boots, and you burst into peals of too-fond laughter.

“Okay, okay. I promise. Swear.”

He nodded, firm, and finally—finally—sunk beneath the surface with a grand, sweeping beat of his tail.

He circled the whole of the bay once, twice, thrice, and then set out past the breakwater with another of those bounding leaps that looked like something straight out of a painting.

You sat and watched the rolling waves until the sun was high in the sky, and then long after it had begun its creeping descent. Fat and sluggish over the horizon, dripping gold along the water like the strokes of a paintbrush. Until there were no shadows in the tide, no purple fins popping up from beneath the surface to smack at your ankles. There hadn’t been for hours now. The glint of his tail had slowly grown further and further away, and you’d been staring out at nothing for longer than not.

You stood with a sigh, legs wobbly and prickling with static as you stretched out of your scrunched up crouch.

You moved towards your little shanty hut and carefully readjusted the conch at its helm so that it sat just so. You stepped back with a soft nod and began your familiar trek towards the other side of the island, dutifully ignoring the stutter in your steps and that tight, miserable something twisting in your guts that you refused to name.

It was fine. He’d be home soon, surely. With his pod—his family. Which was what you’d wanted. And now… well, you had to go catch some dinner for you and your octopus. And there was no use waiting around.

.

.

You fucking sucked at fishing.

Which was a lesson learned with miserable, sopping wet consequences. You sat in front of your stupid fire, ringing out your stupid, soaked shirt, and sneezing in the chill of the night air. You’d never been responsible for hauling in food on The Rose Queen, and the Siren had basically been feeding your stranded ass from day one (whether intentional or otherwise). And so now here you were. Fishless, friendless, and freezing.

You sighed, miserable, and carefully made your way back to the familiar, little tidepool in the crags. You knelt down by the teeny pool of water there and the octopus inside was immediately scurrying for cover. When no tasty treats rained down overhead like the gift of some benevolent god, it slowly creeped its way out from beneath the stones with a trudging sort of paddling you wanted to call pouty.

“Sorry, little guy,” you huffed. “I don’t have anything for you today.”

You reached forward and the octopus panicked—trying to flee so fast that the poor thing wound up twisting itself in knots. Its stubby tentacles curled and flailed uselessly in its puddle, and you tutted in sympathy. You scooped the blob into your palms and immediately four sets of tentacles were curling around your fingers like a lifeline. Its little suckers pulled at your skin with sticky smacks as it tried to burrow away into your skin. And Sevens—OW! What the Hell!

“Chill, chill!” you squawked, trying to wrangle the thing more securely into your hands and stop it from pinching the flesh clear off your bones. “I’m just—would you—look, I don’t want to drop you, okay? So would you just—"

The octopus screamed, and you didn’t even think that was possible. You could feel the sharp, yowling vibrations of it all along your fingers and a few of the gulls nesting along the rocks took off into the air with a harried flurry of feathers and scrabbling claws. Their wings thwacked the back of your head and you swatted them away with a shrill scream of your own. Why did everything on this stupid island have to be a no good, dramatic, serenading, piece of shi—

“Fine!” you shrieked, feeling your molars ache with it. “Begone!”

And hurled the thing as far as you could over the edge of the rocky shore. It landed in the water with a lackluster plop of fat bubbles and immediately darted away like a prisoner fleeing captivity. And not, you know, the benevolent hand of the very lovely pirate who had been feeding and caring for it all these weeks.

You kicked angrily at a mess of pebbles, and then swore loud and furious when all it did was scuff up your toes and prick bruises into your heels.

You trudged back to your stupid, little hovel and collapsed miserably into the sand.

Here you were, trying to be noble, and kind, and give all of these ridiculous sea creatures the second chance at life that you would never have. And what did you get for it? An empty stomach, an aching heart, and gravel in your fucking feet—

“Well,” you chattered to yourself. Pleasantly poisonous and tendons jumping in your jaw, “I suppose at least it can’t get much worse.”

Which should have been the universe’s signal to do something truly petty. The skies opening overhead in a torrential downpour. Your little, stick home collapsing under the sheer weight of your patheticness. A crab scuttling up from the depths just to pinch your toes. Something like that.   

Instead, there was a gentle breeze that tickled your cheeks and coaxed you into looking out over the horizon.

There was something there—something in the distance that you couldn’t quite make out from where you were curled up suffering in the sand. You sniffled past angry tears and scrubbed the back of your hand over your nose, and then let that touch of wind guide you forward on wobbly legs.  You had to climb all the way up the salt-slick rocks to get a good look at it. But there it was. Not too far at all actually.

A ship.

Large, and wooden, and cresting through the low rolling waves with all the ease of the monstrous vessel it looked to be. There was a silver insignia emblazoned on its side, but it was still too far away to make out the particulars. But you didn’t care, because it was a ship. An actual, factual ship.

You waved your hands high over your head and shouted at the top of your lungs.

And holy shit, holy shit—maybe the universe didn’t actually hate your poor guts. Maybe there’d be a happy ending to this whole thing after all.

You watched in the distance as an anchor dropped, and you had to stop yourself from tumbling off your rocky perch in your excitement. One of the small dinghies was lowered into the water and a gaggle of crew climbed down to man it. Slowly but surely, that little boat grew closer, and you sprinted down to the shoreline to meet it.

A man with short, dark hair climbed over the side and met you halfway. His eyes were soft, and brown, and kind, and he offered you a warm smile when you nearly tumbled straight into him in your haste—catching a hand around your arms and helping keep you upright.

He said something polite that you assumed was the usual sort of greeting and intrigue into how exactly you’d managed to find yourself in this state of affairs, and you hastily made to explain your situation as you always did.

‘Thank you—I can’t hear, but I can write and read—And I—’

Your train of thought cut off sharply, and your rambling explanations with it. The brunette was already nodding your way in sympathy and rattling off instructions to his crew. They were all decked out in slightly differing variations of the same, white and navy uniform. With golden buttons and sashes glinting in the low light and silver pendants pinned to their breast pockets. Your doe-eyed savior turned back your way and offered you his arm with another of those sap sweet smiles that lit his cheeks in a merry, rosy pink.

You hesitated, throat bobbing around something tight and cold that curdled along the back of your tongue.

Twining songbirds, wings frozen in flight as they soared up towards an endless sky.

The intricate, little emblem stared back at you proudly from its place on his chest, and you couldn’t help but think of the Siren who’d only just left your cove a few hours before.

‘Not safe,’ he’d demanded, dragging you away from the wreck so frantically you’d nearly drowned from it. ‘Not safe.’

The brunette’s smile wavered at your hesitance, and he wrapped his hand around yours to tug you into the boat.

You climbed in on wobbly legs, because—what else were you supposed to do? Stay stranded on this little patch of sand and stone until you starved to death or went mad from loneliness? Run? From sailors with swords on their belts as long as your arm? To hide on an island that you could traverse in its entirety in a half hour or less? You were always one to happily snatch up the weird and wonderful opportunities life could present to you and run them into the ground, but now… What else was there?

You were settled against one of the small, wooden benches and the brunette shucked off his jacket to drape over your shoulders and the silver songbirds glinted in the low light. He offered you another of those warm, warm smiles before turning to call an order to his crew.

You sighed, miserable, and slouched against the siding—fingers dangling down to brush along the surface of the water.

‘Do not do anything stupid,’ your Siren had said.

And you’d really been hoping to last more than twenty-four-freaking-hours before inevitably breaking that promise, but it seemed the universe really was out to get you after all.

.

.

.

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[peachesofteal]

Cool Girl

Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / masterlist / warning: cancer

“Wait… I’m sorry, I… I think I misheard you…”

The doctor gives you a very kind, but very practiced smile and pats your hand gently. “It’s a brain tumor.”

Oh god. Oh my god. You’re going to throw up. White hot fear rockets up your spine, spreading through every nerve, vessel, piece of tissue like a crack of lightning, obliterating everything in its path.

A tumor. A brain tumor.

“Okay… uh,” you don’t know where to begin. What kind of questions do you ask? What happens next? “Do I… get surgery or something? What… what do I do?” She nods, pointing to something on the tablet screen, scans of your brain lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.

She’s explaining something to you, something you don’t really understand, but you vaguely catch the end of it. “-to try to shrink it. The chemo will hopefully do that for us, and we can move to next steps.” Chemo. Chemo?

“Oh.”

“I know this is a lot to take in, but we’re going to do everything we can.” Everything we can?

She sends you home with a stack of papers, pamphlets, and more appointments than you could possibly remember.

Your empty apartment suddenly feels more sad, more morose than it ever has before, and for the hundredth time today, you think of Simon and Johnny.

Pathetically, you want to call them.

Maybe Simon would let Johnny come over. Maybe he’d let Johnny hold you.

Maybe Simon would even want to hold you too. You snort. Unlikely.

Instead of someone to lay with, be with, you slip fitfully into a restless sleep, buried in a pile of pillows.

Your days turn into Russian roulette.

You meet your oncologist, you start chemo. You take medical leave from work, considering you can’t do anything except go back and forth between appointments, and try not to think about the monster that’s living in your head, sucking you dry. Mornings roll into nights, and you become some sort of zombie, dragging your feet around the building, unable to eat, unable to sleep.

You can sometimes stomach soup though. Soup of all kinds, chicken noodle, ramen, tomato, you name it. It takes two weeks for you to get through your mostly broth diet before you’re forced out into the world to buy some more.

The grocery store is a nightmare. The lights are too bright, the people are too loud, and it’s freezing, even though most people are in shorts and short sleeves.

You’re bundled up. It’s a little ridiculous.

You take your time in the soup aisle with your basket, glancing over your options, trying to push down your nausea and figure out what you might feel like eating later. It’s a daunting task, considering what you threw up before you left the flat.

You fill your basket with as much as you think you might need, ignoring the throbbing in your head as much as possible, and round the corner to the frozen section, looking for some ice cream. Something sweet doesn’t sound so bad, you think. Maybe some mint chocolate, or cookies and cream.

You stand in front of the frosted doors, debating your options, oblivious to the world.

Oblivious until you hear someone calling your name.

When you turn your head, there’s a flash of a mohawk from the corner of your eye, and then Johnny is standing in front of you with his jaw dropped.

“Oh. Hi.”

“Hi?” He bleats. “Hi? Bonnie, ye… ye look-“

“Like shit?” You finish for him, unimpressed, and he shakes his head.

“No. Sick. Are ye alright?” Truly, you want to lie. Throw yourself at his feet and beg him to come home with you, cuddle you, help you.

You can’t though. You know you can’t.

Johnny’s heart doesn’t belong to you. Neither does Simon’s.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine. Just tired.” His eyes narrow, your own heart bleeds. “Swear.” He shakes his head.

“Ye’re lying.” You’re about to tell him to mind his business, to tell him you’re not his business anymore, when his eyes go incredibly soft, and he steps closer. “If this is about what happened-“

“I don’t… I can’t do this.” You move away, backwards. “I just wanted to get some ice cream. I don’t want to do this with you.” You cast a mournful look at the freezers behind him, and then turn away, a barely there goodbye whispered over your shoulder.

[missberrycake]

I’ve been thinking this morning about if Steve didn’t get back together with Nancy at the end of S1—I think there’s a lot of different ways that could go, but what if Steve ended up as one of Eddie’s lost little sheep?

Because even if Steve was popular enough to keep afloat in the choppy waters of high school, after his bust up with Tommy and Carole—and even when he’s seen talking with Nancy and Jonathan Byers of all people—he still doesn’t really have any true friends left. Sure, he has people he can chat to in class, but at lunch? After school? Nobody is really thinking about who ex-jock, ex-bully Steve Harrington is hanging around with. 

Perhaps he spends the rest of his junior year dreading lunch hour, because he knows he’s going to have to deploy some serious charm tactics—taking as long as he can in the queue, chatting to the students either side of him—and perhaps if he lingers long enough at one of the tables of his more social classmates, pretends he’s just catching up, carrying on a conversation from class, he can make it seem like it’s all still as easy as it was before. 

Sometimes, though, he doesn’t have the energy to pretend. On those days he’ll retreat quietly to his car and eat his lunch behind his wheel, wondering how different it might have been if he’d never gone back into the Byers’ house that day last fall.

It’s on one of those days that Eddie sees him. It’s not like Eddie hadn’t noticed him before, he’s always on the lookout, after all, and Steve Harrington is one of those people who always drew his eye. He’d seen him scouring the cafeteria while queueing up for his state-mandated mac ‘n’ cheese, searching for a space where he could fit. 

And, of course, he’d heard the whispers about Steve—that he’d punched Tommy H in the face, gotten his crown beaten from his head by Jonathan Byers (though he didn’t seem to hold a grudge). If there’s one thing to know about Eddie, it’s that he’s a bleeding heart, and so when he sees Steve sitting alone in his car, winter frost glittering against the metal, he lets out a heavy sigh and trundles over. 

“Hey, Harrington,” he says, pushing down a smirk when Steve jumps (he is easily startled these days, isn’t he?).

“Munson,” Steve replies with narrow eyes. He doesn’t trust Eddie yet, not entirely. 

“There’s more space in my van. If you wanted some company.”

Eddie leaves it like that, keeps it casual, knows that he might get it shoved right back in his face—expects it to be, even. And so he’s surprised at how quickly Steve nods back at him, a real smile breaking out on his face, if only for a moment, until Steve clears his throat and says, “Sure, yeah. That’d be cool, I guess.”

It’s the start of something big. A delicate balance where the two of them pretend that it’s not that important, but somehow they’re more honest with each other than they’ve ever been with anyone else. Steve tells Eddie all about how he doesn’t even really know who he is anymore, and in return Eddie shares just how worried he is that he knows exactly who he’s expected to be, and that he can’t change his fate even if he wanted to.

By the time the next school year starts, it’s well established with the school population that Steve Harrington has somehow landed himself with an honorary spot in the Hellfire Club. He doesn’t play—refuses to learn, even if it’s clear that he’d do pretty much anything else that Eddie Munson would ask of him—but he helps set up the meetings, sits with them at lunch, smiles stupidly whenever Eddie gets up onto the cafeteria tables to rant about the shallow-mindedness of his peers. 

And if Eddie’s diatribes are directed at the popular crowd with a little more venom than they used to be, and if he seems to take great pleasure whenever Tommy H, or Carole, or those posers on the basketball team frown and scoff and sneer at him, it’s no great secret to everyone else in the lunch hall exactly why. 

[Yeah, I'm scouring the archives and trying to salvage as many headcanons as I can from my old deleted account, but let's just pretend this is brand new content.]

[cupidhoons]

upside down kiss.

 ୨୧  after getting saved multiple times by the one and only spiderman, it was only right for you to thank him. so what better way to show that than giving him a kiss?

   g    drabble fluff kissing slightly suggestive    warnings   not proof-read fmr in mind reader gets harassed wc 651 ・  bookshelf    ᡴꪫ       

the rain was being extremely irritating. you were shivering as cold droplets fell on your skin — but you couldn't care less. not when your lips was pressed against his. the red mask pulled up to his nose, not letting you see any further of what spiderman could look like.

it was your thank you to him after saving your life multiple times. the first encounter was during a convenience store robbery. you were crouched down behind one of the aisles, trying not to direct attention to yourself as the masked hero conversed with the robbers.

"what a bunch of idiots..." heeseung mutters as he walks past you. you assume he notices your presence when he suddenly stops in his tracks. "it's safe now, y'know?" he says, offering his hand to help you up. you accept, of course, raising yourself slowly as you try not to panic.

"thank you, spiderman" you stammer. he chuckles at your nervousness. "it's no problem, really."

"i'm just glad i can help." he smiles under his mask.

the second time he saved you was right about 5 minutes ago. you were on your way back home after ending a late study session with your friend. you should've known better to not take the alley way back home — but it was the quickest route.

"hey, you!" a voice calls from behind, prompting you to turn around. "such a pretty girl, aren't you?" another calls as they walk in your direction. you ignore their remarks, trying not to cause a scene this late. you pick up your pace as they catch up to you.

you feel the man tug your arm as the other scrambled to take your purse. "don't you know that it's rude to walk away? huh lady?" one of them says. you try squirming your way out of their grip, but you couldn't.

"get off of me!" you scream.

"didn't you hear the women? get off of her!" a familiar voice yelled. spiderman. the two men suddenly stop, running away from the scene. heeseung quickly shoots his webs at their wrists and ankles, stopping them from escaping.

"that'll teach 'em. sorry you had to deal with that." he says from above. you giggle at the sight of the two men struggling before directing your attention towards the sky. "thank you spiderman!"

"of course!" he replies.

"why don't you come down here? so i can properly show my gratitude!"

heeseung thinks about it for a moment. but his hands started moving before he could even process what he was doing. suddenly he was looking at you upside down, face to face. he was able look at all your facial features now, and my god you were perfect. your hair was wet from the rain, but that didn't matter.

you move closer to his upside down figure, hesitant to make your move. you touch his mask, tracing his jawline as you attempt to remove it. he stops your hand before you could.

"sorry..." you mutter out. "may i? i promise i wont go any farther." heeseung hesitates if he should let you move his mask. what if you reveal his secret? no, you wouldn't. you only have a small circle of friends at school, he would know since he was one of the few friends.

you assume that he trusts you when takes his hand off your wirst. you slowly pull down the mask, exposing his pale skin. you go further until his nose is exposed. leaning in, you decide to go for it. you pressed your lips on to his as you cupped his face.

his lips were soft as ever — the kiss was so pure and passionate, slowly growing needier and deeper. he bites your lips before slipping in his tongue, taking the chance to explore your mouth. you let out a whine as you continue the kiss. who knew spiderman was such a good kisser?

i kinda cooked with this um umm this could be my comeback...this was for my babies @jwsdoll & @flwrstqr :3

[reverie-starlight]

okay that kuroo piece is still coming but have this small sakusa x MSBY!manager blurb that I just thought up and got so excited about!! I’m marking this down as fem!reader just for this specific little ramble. it can be read separately from the series !!

warnings: none, but probably a bit of a disconnect from what really happens at charity galas lmao

sakusa kiyoomi has a certain reputation for being very stoic and stand-offish in public- always polite but rather blunt in interviews. he’s tall, intimidating and not very personable around those who don’t know him, so it’s not a surprise people perceive him this way. his preference for wearing his mask most of the time only adds to this reputation, and he couldn’t care less. in fact, you would argue that he finds comfort in being perceived as unapproachable by strangers.

but when MSBY fans realize how horrifically down bad their favourite wing spiker is for the team manager, they have a field day with this absolutely drastic personality shift.

it starts with little jokes made by fan accounts about how much nicer he is to you in comparison to his teammates. they latch onto passing comments made by bokuto or atsumu about how when you’re at practice they feel at ease because they’re less likely to get obliterated by his sarcastic remarks.

no one has clued into the fact that you’re together yet, just that there’s some serious chemistry between you two.

it doesn’t go much further than that until the night of some charity event a lot of different teams are attending. of course managers are there, as well as coaches and trainers and JVA employees.

you’re doing the press/carpet walk before entering the event and in between photos and walking between journalists, one of the straps of your heels has come undone.

you frown a little and inspect it before realizing your dress restricts your ability to fix it yourself, so you nudge your boyfriend and stick your foot out to draw his attention to your predicament.

you don’t think twice about how there are no words are spoken. just a simple action and understanding between two lovers.

so people watch on as sakusa kiyoomi drops to his knees right then and there without protest and fixes your shoe. you take the opportunity to adjust the neckline of your dress (a deep, silky forest green to match his tie) and look around while you wait for him to finish.

you don’t realize the uproar this is bound to create, and you definitely don’t think twice about the fact that your boyfriend isn’t wearing a mask to this event.

…which means everyone is able to see the blush on his face and the tiny yet extremely lovesick smile on his face as he gets up. you grin and pat sakusa on the cheek in thanks before walking to the next reporter, him trailing behind you dutifully.

you check twitter the next morning and your timeline is flooded with videos of that moment, captions gushing about how sweet and happy he looks. some fans go as far as to say he looks like a lost puppy following you around.

he doesn’t regret it one bit, but you have to comfort him when he loses his stand-offish reputation after that because he dreads the idea of more people possibly coming up to him in public.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I literally sprinted here to write this lmao

not edited!!

tagging: @dira333 @emmyrosee

[circesastro]

Circe’s Observation: Moon Sign and Your Mother

Note: I am not professional astrologer so please take these observations with a grain of salt. These are just my own observations, ideas, thoughts and theories. This is just for entertainment purposes. Also, please be respectful of my observations! Any negative and hateful comments will be deleted. Without further ado, enjoy!

**All photos are from Pinterest**

Aries Moon:

✿ On the bright side, Aries Moon have mothers who are very independent and strong

✿ They can be seen as someone who can handle a lot of things without having to seek someone else’s help

✿ They are mothers who are often the head of the house and makes the rules

✿ They are also people who are very driven in the things they do and someone who is always active

✿ The more dominant parent/figure in the family

✿ Mothers who make most of the decisions for the family

✿ Mothers who are protective over her children

✿ Their mothers could have been or are very active/athletic

✿ Yet, on the negative side, they can be seen as mothers who are impatient and domineering.

✿ Someone who seeks control all of the time and someone who is very argumentative

✿ I think Seventeen Joshua might be an Aries Moon instead of a Taurus moon because he stated that his mother was very hardworking and raised him all by herself (this is just my opinion btw)

Taurus Moon:

✿ Very protective mothers

✿ These mothers are viewed as strong-willed, stubborn and patient

✿ Natives tend to have a close relationship with their mothers

✿ Mothers who would constantly check up on their children to ensure their child's safety and also for security

✿ Very responsible mothers

✿ Someone who likes to dress their children up (especially daughters)

✿ Mothers may often feel comfortable sharing their clothes with their daughters as they grow older. (I seen this happening with both my cousin and my friend)

✿ On the other hand, their mothers can also be viewed as someone who is very materialistic and superficial

✿ These mothers may also show their love language through cooking for the native or just something related with food

✿ My cousin is a taurus moon and my aunt would be very picky about what foods my cousin consumes especially as an infant (Like no salt in the food and vegetables only).

✿ But also, my aunt spends a lot of her income into makeup, bags and jewelries, etc.

✿ The natives can inherit the mother's relationship with food for some reason...

Gemini Moon:

✿ Mother might gossip a lot

✿ A little bit scattered but also someone who is very mentally stimulating

✿ Mother may be someone who values intelligence or socialization

✿ Native may see mother as someone who is very chatty/gossipy

✿ Mother may also look very youthful

✿ The type of mother who may be mistaken as their child’s sister

✿ Someone who is very versatile and flexible with their ways

✿ Natives may view their mother as someone adaptable but also someone who is very flakey

✿ Natives may also admire their mother for their intelligence and adaptability

✿ Also, natives with Gemini moons tend to have siblings as well (ex: Rachel McAdam, Heidi Klum, Ateez's Hongjoong and Yunho, Seventeen's Hoshi, Monster X's Minhyuk, Itzy's Yuna, NCT's Doyoung, it goes on and on.)

✿ Also, mercurial moons tend to look like their mothers?

Cancer Moon:

✿ May have mothers who are nurturing and maybe even baby their child a lot

✿ Mothers who are very attached to their kids or their children plays a huge role in the mothers life.

✿ May be a bit too smothering and places too much emphasis on the child

✿ Cancer moon individuals typically have a good relationship with their mother

✿ Cancer moon natives who have good relationships with their mother tend to take on their mother's nurturing energy in their own lives

✿ On the other side, cancer moon individuals may view their mother as overemotional and hard to communicate with

✿ They may also be very manipulative and unstable

✿ Oftentimes, the mother may get very emotional and might cry when the native upsets them

✿ Cancer moon mothers tend to be the 'stereotypical' mothers in a way

✿ They tend to follow the traditional gender roles in their home

✿ Seventeen's Dokyeom have a cancer moon and they always say that he was 'raised in a warm home'

✿ Additionally, Enhypen's Jay is also a cancer moon and he has a really wholesome relationship with his mother too

Leo Moon:

✿ Mother tend to fixate more on themselves than their children

✿ A little self-centered and dramatic

✿ Someone who appears very confident and sure of themselves

✿ On the bad side, someone who may have a narcissistic personality

✿ And the individual moon may view their mothers as someone who is in constant need of attention

✿ May be the one with authority in the family/authority parent

✿ Most Leo Moon friend I have does not have the best relationship with their mothers

✿ One of them, her mother values popularity and is a drama queen...

✿ Two of them, their mothers tend to prioritize their other children over the native

Virgo Moon:

✿ Mothers who pay close attention to their child's lifestyle and health

✿ Mothers who may be very critical

✿ Mothers who are detailed-orientated when it comes to their child like walking a specific way or the child's postures, etc.

✿ Shows their love through acts of service

✿ They tend to be very keen about being clean

✿ First to point out the native's flaws

✿ The native may think that their mother do not care as much for them as they do with their siblings

✿ The character Hong Haein from Queen of Tears have a virgo moon and her relationship with her mother is often strained because she always thought her mother cared more about her younger brother than her (which was true tho...)

✿ Additionally, her mother saw Haein as the child who was more capable of taking care of herself which Virgo Moon mothers tend to do

✿ They put their child in a more responsible position than their other children

✿ The type of mother who their child can rely on like a safety net at the end of the day

✿ The mother may expect the native to be more productive in their day to day life compared to their siblings. More towards the way of "I expect the house to be clean by the time I'm home from work."

Libra Moon:

✿ Prioritizes beauty and focuses on the better things in life

✿ May prioritize their other relationships over their children especially romantic relationships.

✿ Very beauty-orientated

✿ May be just as superficial as Taurus moons too

✿ Gossipers!!!

✿ Libra moon natives are usually (not all) more cared for than their siblings as kids for some reason? May be the golden child when younger.

✿ These individuals can be very close with their mother.

✿ Jackson Wang have a libra moon, need I say more?

Scorpio Moon:

✿ Very private and protective mothers

✿ These individuals tend to learn and take after their mother's emotional strength

✿ A lot of scorpio moons tend to have single mothers but also their mother tend to provide financial security (ex: Jennie from Blackpink, Cai Xukun, etc)

✿ Also another one that tends to have a close mother-child relationship, for the better or the worse...

✿ Scorpio Moons remind me of Ms. Moh and Eungseong in Queen of Tears (He's either a Scorpio Moon or a Capricorn Moon... but I'm leaning towards Scorpio due to his abandonment issues and his mother's way of compensating for her absence was literally through giving him the money she obtained from chairman Hong).

✿ Someone who may be manipulative, calculative and sly

✿ However, they will always back their children up

✿ They type of mother who never sees their child's wrongdoing...

✿ May have a hard time expressing their love and affection towards their children

✿ Even though the relationship between the native and their mothers are most often described as "intense" and "complicated" the mother will protect their children even if the child is at fault.

✿ I think scorpio moon mothers either trust their child 100% or put little trust in her children.

✿ I think scorpio moon mothers prefer to be private but they will show themselves if they think their children is in danger. (ex: Cai Xukun using him as a example again 😭)

Sagittarius Moon:

✿ Social butterflies!

✿ They may have travelled a lot or just someone who enjoys traveling

✿ Mother may be someone who always seek knowledge

✿ Mother may also put a lot of emphasis on higher education

✿ May be impulsive...or just quick tempered

✿ 0 to 100 real quick as they are Jupiter-ruled

✿ I remember when BTS Namjoon said that his mother ruined his computer and mic because she wanted him to focus on his studies

✿ Mother may be the type to take their children traveling to learn about the world

✿ May also be the type to take interest in trivia or just have a lot of random knowledge

Capricorn Moon:

✿ Another one whose mothers tend to be very private

✿ Another one of mothers may have a hard time expressing their love and affection outwardly/towards their children

✿ But may also be very cutthroat and focuses on business more than their family

✿ A lot of Capricorn moons in my life typically do not have a good relationship with their mothers

✿ Natives with Capricorn moons may view their mother as someone who is very stern and unsympathetic

✿ Capricorn moon mothers are the type of mother to use authoritarian parenting style along with Aries moon (just my take, not every Capricorn/Aries moon mothers are like that!)

✿ On the bright side, like most earth moons, Capricorn moon mothers may be perceived as someone responsible and mature

✿ They are someone who is practical and ambitious

✿ Usually, the native with Capricorn moon will take on this trait too

Aquarius Moon:

✿ Mother either acts like a friend to the native or they are very detached from the native...

✿ Mother may be very open-minded

✿ Song Jia have an Aquarius moon and she stated once that her only friend is her mother

✿ Celebrities/idols who have Aquarius moons, their mothers tend to be loved by the community

✿ May appear in social media more than other moon signs

✿ Mothers who may be very involved with their communities

✿ Billie Eilish and her mother have both taken part in promoting a healthier environment and sustainability for the world

✿ If cancer moons are like the "traditional" mothers, then Aquarius moons would be like the opposite

✿ These mothers values eccentricity, intelligence and community.

✿ For some reason, Aquarius moon mothers gives me the PTO mom vibes 😅

Pisces Moon:

✿ Mothers may be very spiritual or religious

✿ Great manifestors lol

✿ It always remind me of that one story of Seventeen Mingyu’s story of his mother where she went to pray for someone to take him away because he was such a difficult child, and guess what? A week later, he was taken to Pledis as a trainee 😁

✿ Pisces Moon mothers may also be very artistic or creative

✿ Mother may be very deceptive

✿ They say one thing and do the other

✿ Mothers may either be very emotional or too distant

✿ Because of Jupiter + Neptune influence, they can be very ambitious and dream big

✿ A negative manifestation of those with pisces moons may be that their mother may struggle with some sort of addiction. (gambling, drinking, smoking, drugs etc.)

✿ Mother may oftentimes isolate?

MASTERLIST

[monstersflashlight]

This post was supposed to be a long story but I got impatient and posted it. Now we have the full story. Hope y’all like it as much as I do. <3

Orc professor

Orc x chubby fem!reader || power dynamics, dom/sub undertones, exhibitionism, voyeurism, cum play, breeding, size kink, age gap, degradation, praise kink

It was your third failed mini-test when you thought enough was enough. Your hot orc professor was too attractive for your sanity. He was so hot with his cardigans and whatever he wore that you were always distracted, unable to take notes. It was his fault, and you needed to remedy that before you failed the whole class. You just needed to talk to him and see what could you do to pass. You’ll do some extra homework, maybe write a few more papers. Anything. A naughty part of you wanted to offer him sex favors, but you knew he wasn’t that kind of orc. Maybe.

You knocked on his office door and heard the muffled “come in”. You opened the door and your breath was taken away because how fucking attractive he was. The black framed glasses and salt and pepper hair just accentuating his green skin. Your panties got wet instantly. Fuck. Why had he to be so fucking hot? It would be a lot easier if he was just an old wrinkly dude.

“What do you need from me?” He looked up from the papers he was grading and that look combined with that phrase made your pussy tingle. Fuck, you were so turned on by everything he did.

He could be talking about the condensation of the trees in the desert and you’ll be panting in the back of the class, panties wet. And right now, you were worried your arousal was going to form a wet patch in your pants. This needed to be fast before you embarrassed yourself.

“I- I want to know if I can do some extra activities to improve my performance in your class.” You told him as fast as you could, sitting down in front of him and trying really hard not to rub your thighs together.

The frantic pulse of your heart was mirrored on your clit, and it was driving you completely crazy. Being so close to him was like an aphrodisiac in itself.

“What kind of activities do you suggest?” He seemed uninterested. Some part inside of you got mad at him, you were clearly trying to improve and he looked like an asshole who didn’t care if his students passed or not. And for some reason that only made him hotter. You needed to get laid soon before you humped his leg or something.

“I- I don’t know. I just need to pass your class. Please, I’ll do anything,” you begged. You were sure it was too much, but he looked at you, a spark of interest in his dark pupils.

You realized how bad it sounded when you thought about it. You tried to take it back, say you didn’t mean it like that, but then he surprised you asking back: “Anything?” His smirk was enough to send lighting down your pussy, your panties soaking through your clothes. Good Goddess, how was he so fucking hot?

Contrary to your better judgment, and probably thinking just with your southern parts, you matched his teasing tone as you answered: “Yes, yes. Anything.” You leaned closer to his table, showing more tits than you knew you should. But fuck it. If you couldn’t pass this class, at least you could fuck the hottest professor on campus.

He leaned back on his chair, his eyes flickering to your almost exposed breasts. He hummed and finally said: “Okay, little human, we’ll make a deal.” You nodded eagerly, so ready to do whatever he asked.

If he asked you to get naked and suck his cock right there, you would fall to your knees so fast he wouldn’t even see you moving. You were more than ready, so wet and needy you could feel the wetness pooling inside your thighs, probably through your pants. The walk home was going to be so uncomfortable. Ugh.

But you weren’t expecting his offer to be so filthy, so nasty. “Each morning, you’ll arrive a bit early, and you will handle me your panties. Used panties. And I want you to take them off in front of me, so I suggest you start wearing those slutty skirts you love so much.” You were bamboozled by his words.

Did he notice you? Did he like your skirts, too? He must like them if he noticed you wearing them so often. And he though they were slutty (they were, and you might or might not wear them to see if he reacted). A part of you wanted to be offended, but the other part of you was ready to say yes. Yes to that, yes to anything.

He interpreted your silence as agreement and kept talking. “If you do that, you will pass my class. That works for you?” He was back to looking uninterested, but you saw right through his facade.

His hand was resting suspiciously close to his groin, and you could almost make the outline of a dick. A huge dick, but you weren’t sure. You wanted to lean closer to inspect it, but you refrained, your head spinning with everything that just happened.

“Yes. Yes. Perfect. I’ll do it. Thank you, thank you, thank you…” You repeated a dozen times before he dismissed you. There was a big grin on his face when you left. You could feel his eyes fixed on your ass as you walked out. Point for you.

The first couple days it went without a hitch. You arrived early, and he was always there, expecting you with a knowing smirk. You usually made a show of pushing your panties down your legs and grabbing them, never actually showing him anything, but making it obvious that you were enjoying yourself with the game you two were playing. He always smelled them and hummed appreciatively, making your clit get excited instantly. You loved when men were vocal in bed. In his case, when monster’s were.

Where all monsters more vocal than humans? You never slept with a monster before. You always wanted to try, but never knew someone who excited you as much as your orc professor. The first time you saw him you tripped on your feet and almost hit the ground. He was so much older than you, he could probably be your father, but good lord if you wouldn’t love to call him daddy.

After the fourth day giving him your panties, you got a bit bolder. You turned around and bent down, making sure he was seeing your naked pussy and fat ass as you did so. The red lacy panties barely covered your wet pussy as you pushed them down your legs. He growled loudly at you when he saw them, you groaned softly. When you handled the panties to him, his eyes were as dark as a storm and you could see the outline of his dick perfectly. You gasped, he was so big, so much bigger than anyone you’d been with before. How would that feel inside of you? Would it even fit?

That day, you left feeling elated because of his reaction, a plan starting to form in your mind. You were going to be really, really bad. You spent the rest of the class rubbing your thighs together and trying not to touch yourself. You could still see the outline of his dick if you focused on his groin, and it was making you insane. You almost ran out of the class to jerk off in the bathroom.

On the fifth day, you wore your shortest skirt, the one that barely covered your ass. You walked in and waited until he gave you a once over. Your body was burning by the time he ended his staring. He arched a brow, expecting you to do what you were instructed before. You turned around and repeated the same actions as the day before, showing him your wet pussy as you bent down. He growled again and you smirked.

You handed them the black lacy panties and grinned. “Here you have them, sir.” You pronounced the last word with all your intent, being as flirty as possible as you walked away, sitting in the first row. You never did that before, you were forever a last row girly, but today you had plans. You felt his eyes lingering on your half exposed ass. The walk home was going to be a bit sketchy with that skirt, but it was worth it.

The class started and he looked at you. You smiled innocently as he started to explain about the life circle of some plant. You didn’t care, you were a girl on a mission.

When he turned around and started asking questions, you opened your legs.

The girl sitting next to you wasn’t paying any attention to your actions, but his gaze zeroed on you. You open your legs slightly more, knowing full well your big thighs must cover your pussy most of the time. But if you open them far enough… Yes. You realized the second he saw your pussy because he dropped the pen he was using to write down some stuff on the board.

And then you saw it: the outline of his monster cock noticeable against his dark pants, making you drool and do it again. You parted your legs and bit down on a pen, trying to be as slutty as possible. He coughed to cover what you guessed was a groan. He sat down and ordered everyone to write some stuff for him.

Before you left the class, he grabbed your arm and told you: “Remember we have a meeting after class, I’ll be expecting you in my office.” His tone is harsh and final, you nodded, blushing. Suddenly you feel very embarrassed about your performance in class, but your slutty side is more than happy to comply.

After all your classes, you rushed to his office and knocked softly. He opened the door before you could ask, grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside. He closed the door behind you and pressed your back against it. He was over you instantly, his big mouth kissing you as his tusks framed your jaw. You kissed him back with equal passion, grabbing his hair and pressing your whole body against his. You moaned against his mouth when he pulled back.

“You were a very naughty girl. And naughty girls need to be punished.” His voice had an edge of danger to it that had you panting. You nodded, eagerly. “Bend down over the desk. Now.” You had to press against him to get to it, but you complied.

“What about the papers?” You asked, trying to move them around but he grunted. He put a hand on the middle of your back and pushed down, plastering your head against the papers and pulling your skirt up at the same time. You felt the cold air against your backside and shivered.

“Such a slutty girl, offering me his panties for a pass. Showing me her wet pussy like a slut. Parting her legs for me in the middle of class.” He punctuated each one of your actions with a caress to your ass. You were panting against the papers, pushing your ass up to get him to touch you more. “You need to be punished for all of that. You were a very, very naughty girl. Such a slut.” And then his big hand made contact with your right ass cheek. You screamed and he stopped. “That won’t do. You need to be quiet.” You looked at him over your shoulder and watched as he took your panties out of his pocket. “Open.” You complied, and he shoved them in your mouth. “Good girl. I’m going to spank your little slutty ass and then fuck your pussy, do you want that?” You nodded eagerly.

He hit your ass ten times, one after the other, not letting you catch your breath before he was hitting you again. You cried out around the panties in your mouth, but you only got them wet with saliva. Tears fell from your eyes and landed on the papers on the desk, making a mess. He didn’t care about it. When he finished spanking you, your pussy was so wet you were sure it was dripping.

“Such a good girl taking the spanking she deserves. Are you on the pill?” His question took you by surprise and when you nodded again he smirked. “Good, I’m going to breed you so deeply you are going to feel me for days.” You groaned at his words. He lowered his pants enough to get his dick out. When you saw it, you whimpered. “Don’t worry, it will fit.” You weren’t so sure about it, but he was already pushing the tip against your gaping hole.

By the time he bottomed out you were breathless. His dick so big you could feel it in the back of your throat. You were spread so wide you felt like you were going to tear in two. But it felt so fucking good. His dick hit every single good point inside of you, rubbing against your G-spot and parts of your pussy you didn’t even know could feel that good. He breathed hard over you as you adapted to his size. He was being so careful with you it was a shock from the way he acted when you entered his office.

After a few minutes you started moving your hips back. He grabbed your hips and pulled back, controlled. You groaned and he chuckled, pushing into you again. The scream you let out wasn’t muffled by the panties. And then the carefulness stopped. He fucked your pussy restlessly, until you were drooling around the panties and over papers on the desk. You could feel the bruises forming on your hips, where his green hands were holding you.

He fucked you like a machine, grabbing you like a toy and fucking your body like you weren’t more than a fleshlight to him. You moaned and groaned around your gag every time he thrusted inside. The pleasure so high it was maddening. His hand went around your body and he started rubbing your clit frantically. You came less than three seconds later and he rapidly followed. His cum was scalding hot in your insides, so deep and so much of it you could feel it slipping out around his dick.

When he finished cumming, he draped himself over you and hugged you close. “You did good, you were perfect.” He took the panties out of your mouth and kissed you softly, moving your limp body until your back was on the desk and he was sitting on his chair in front of you. “Now, take out my cum and eat it.”

You pushed your torso off the table, leaning on your elbows. “Wha- what?” Did he really wanted you to do that? That felt forbidden, like a step too far, but it made you so hot to think about it...

“Finger yourself for me and eat out mixed essence like a good girl for me,” he repeated. As soon as he praised you, you were ready to do whatever he asked you to.

So you complied. “Ye- yes, sir.”

You proceeded to do exactly what he told you, slowly scooping his cum from inside you with your fingers and putting it in your mouth. You moaned at the first taste, feeling naughtier than ever, feeling like the slut he called you earlier. His eyes were focused on your pussy and it felt so good to have all his attention over you that you wanted to scream again, your pussy tingling.

“Come here.” He pulled you off the table and to a kneeling position between his legs. You looked up at him adoringly, your brain, blind with pleasure. “You are going to show me those beautiful breasts of yours and I’m going to come again over you. Then you’ll put the shirt back on and walk to your house like that. Pussy dripping cum, tits marked by me,” he growled the last part. You nodded, already taking your shirt off. “Good girl.”

He jerked his monster cock over your tits, his green fist contrasted with his red tip and darker dick. It was beautiful to see. It took him less than three minutes to be groaning over you as he painted your boobs with his release. He spread it all over your tits, pinching your nipples as he did so. You groaned, your clit pulsing again. You couldn’t understand how much his actions turned you on.

He helped you put back your shirt, and he put you over his lap. You made out for a few more minutes as you melted against him.

“Tomorrow morning I expect you to be early for class.” You arched an eyebrow at him, confused. “If you want to show me your pussy, my cum better be leaking out of it. Do you understand?” You nodded, unable to form words after such risky order. “Good.” He kissed you again before sending you home.

Anticipation filled your inside as you walked home feeling his cum drying over your tits and leaking out of your bare pussy.

You were going to get an A+ in his class.

Don’t forget you can comission me for something like this if you want.

[luveline]

Heyyyy can you do a Hotch x reader where readers just kinda been down all day but doesn’t wanna tell Hotch because she’s kinda used to being the badass with all her walls up? And hotch kinda pulls her to the side and forces it out of her 😊😊

thank you for requesting!! fem, 1.2k

Hotch has dark hair. He’s an older guy but he’s yet to grey, hair like the strands are soaked with coal pitch, even darker under the office lights. He braces his hand on the desk and ducks toward Spencer’s computer screen, pointing at a corner with patience. 

“This one,” Hotch says. 

“Why would they organise it like this?” Spencer asks, his voice bordering incredulous. 

“I’m not sure. You’ll remember where this is?” 

“Do you usually have to tell me more than once?” Spencer says lightly. 

“Ask your licence to carry.” 

You’d laugh, his wit quick and poor Spencer a good sport, but your head feels heavy with a forming upset. Like your mind has turned to thick porridge. You woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but you don’t feel angry, more magnificently empty. Nothing is touching beyond your surface level. 

“Thank you, sir,” Spencer says. 

You ignore the weight of a gaze on you while you click through your emails, prioritising what needs to be answered before the end of the day, the end of the week, and the end of the month as Hotch taught you to. You double click an email chain from a consult you’d been assigned from out of state and reread your response, nervous that your lack of confidence today might have shone through blunt wording. Hotch is looped into the chain —he can correct any glaring errors should you have made them. 

“Hey,” Hotch says when you don’t look up. He doesn’t use your name, and he doesn’t need to. “I’d like to talk to you. Let’s go up to my office.” 

“Can I have a half hour to work through my emails?” you ask apologetically.

“I’d prefer we talk now. Any overdue reply can be blamed on me,” he says. 

The way he talks is natural to him but perhaps strange if it were another person, with another disposition. You know Hotch to be both gentle and stern at once. His tone leaves little room for debate, but it reassures you to hear the measured cadence of each word without rush. The openness of his expression is similarly comforting, and though he doesn’t know it —you would never own up to feeling this way, verbally or physically— you’d quite like to be comforted by him. Even if he takes you to the office to reprimand you, you’ll at least have been near him for long enough to forget your odd aching. 

Hotch doesn’t walk until you do, taking each step by side until he gets to the office, where he opens the door to encourage you in. 

You drift a few feet inward, shoes soft on clean, crisp carpeting. Hotch closes the door, where he stands momentarily, silence held.

“Everything okay?” you ask. 

Hotch pulls out one of the two black chairs in front of his desk and gestures for you to sit. “Everything’s okay,” he says, standing back to give you space to sit, his hand moving to rest on the back of the chair as you sit. It whines as you shift to see him. “With me, everything’s okay. How about you?” 

“Everything’s fine with me.” 

You’d pad your explanation out if you didn’t think he was about to tell you what you’re in the brig for. No one likes a nervous Nelly. 

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

You glance at his hand behind you and he moves it swiftly. “Hotch?” you ask tentatively. 

“I’ve noticed you aren’t yourself today.” 

“I’m completely myself.” 

“It’s not like you to stare into space.” He frowns. “I want to sit down because I don’t like towering over you, but I don’t want you to internalise this as a meeting.” 

“You’re not towering over me, Hotch.

His frown doesn’t ebb. “…We each have our own unique levy to carry the weight of, I know that. But it’s not… nice, to see you like this. I’d like to know what’s wrong.” 

Again, no nonsense and reassuring at once. 

Maybe he is towering a little. You avert your gaze from his, feeling uncharacteristically meek for a weak moment. 

“I think I woke up mixed up,” you confess eventually, picking at a stray thread on your skirt until the tips of your fingers burn. “Like, nothing happened to upset me, but I…” 

“You do feel upset.” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

“You’re not sure why?” 

“Not really. I think that–” You lick your lips nervously, not finding the right words, wanting to be vulnerable and simultaneously reluctant to show him anything he might not like. “I think it’s lots of smaller things and they’re layering on top of each other. Do you get that?” 

“All the time. Though usually my way of dealing with it is less pleasant for others.” He looks down at you steadily. “And yours,” —he aims enough fondness at you to stop your heart— “is self-contained. But I don't want you to think you’re walking through life unseen.” 

“Unseen,” you repeat. 

He stands very still. “Can I touch your face?” he asks quietly. 

You don’t know why he’d ask, but you say, “Yes, please.” 

“Please,” he says. You’re repeating each other. The air in the room feels thicker as he lifts his hand to your cheek and cups it gently. “When you’re upset, I notice. I can’t help but notice.” Your face lists into his palm slowly, worried he’ll move, but he holds you and he watches you with care. “Is there anything I can do to make it all feel better?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “No?” 

You close your eyes. “No,” you say, matching his volume. 

“I don’t know what to do now,” he murmurs. 

“Sorry, I’m okay,” you say, asking yourself to move away from his touch, but unable to force it, “I’m gonna…” 

It’s a boundary crossed, but you and Hotch are good at that. He’s constantly treating you with more sweetness than a boss should show toward his employee, and you eat it up despite every instinct in you that says you shouldn’t. So you won’t tell him you’ve had a bad day until he asks, and even then, you have nothing permanent to offer him for fixing, and still he’ll hold your face and make it feel ordinary. Like he’s touched you a hundred times, something about it feels right, and real. Your cheek feels softer under his tracing thumb. You could fall asleep in his hands. 

“How can I make you feel better?” he asks again. 

“It’s not that bad.” 

“But what can I do?” 

You want to ask for a hug, but even the idea of it is too much to think about. Miss Independent admitting she needs more than this? When it’s already more than you should have? 

Profilers profile, and somehow you give yourself away. 

“Come on,” he says softly. 

He hugs you. His hand falls from your face to your shoulder, wrapping behind it, encompassing you in a strong arm as he bends down to embrace you fully. 

“I wish you’d ask for more,” he says, his free arm slinking between your arm and side, hand to your back, encouraging you to hug him back. 

You don’t know what to do with your arms. Each movement feels stilted, but Hotch makes up for it. He hugs you without inhibition, like he’s wanted to do it for a long, long time.