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tobifuyu · 11 months

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New hair, who dis?

Ran Haitani x f!reader

After years of friendship, Ran is growing and maturing right in front of your eyes but you cannot bring yourself to accept what change brings about.

cw: nsfw, mdni, basically porn with plot, friends to lovers, reader is oblivious, ran is a simp, rindou is so done, masturbation, mirror sex, use of sex toys, hair kink ig, lots of pet names.

wc: 9,7k

a/n: gosh this is way too long I’m so sorry I just have too many ideas and once I start writing I cannot stop myself. many more fics to come, I have a long list of fantasies to satisfy. also, we stan simp ran in this house.

One thing you were not expecting when opening the door of your apartment that evening was for Ran to walk in looking like a completely different person.

You wouldn’t even have recognized him if it weren’t for his purple eyes staring down at you with their ever-present mischievous glint.

Lately, his lanky body has been filling out the new suits he’s wearing in a delicious way, and the time he’s been putting in at the gym, even if reluctantly, is visibly paying off.

You notice he has removed the transparent plaster from the fresh tattoo on his neck, black ink a stark contrast against his pale skin.

There’s something else missing, and the sight is so unsettling that for a moment you think about closing the door on his face.

Who is this man staring back at you? If this is Ran, why are his infamous braids gone?

“Ran, what the fuck?”

“I can explain!” He puts his hands up, gesturing at you to let him come in, and you move out of his way automatically as you take him in from different angles.

The door gets closed behind your back and Ran wraps your wrist in one of his big hands to steer you to your couch in the center of the living room. You’re both silent as you sit down, your eyes fixed on the damage.

“I cut my hair.”

“I can fucking see that!” The smug grin that was stretching his pretty lips slowly fades at the agitation in your voice. The thing is that you don’t understand why you feel so distraught.

It shouldn’t matter, right? It’s not like he went and cut your own hair behind your back. Yeah, he could’ve let you know about such an important decision in his life as he does with pretty much everything else. He could’ve maybe even asked for your opinion. But he didn’t have to.

You and Ran have been friends for years, more than a decade, and you have seen him cut and style his hair multiple times in the past. Just because you are particularly infatuated with the way his two-toned braids swung around while fighting, or how he would twirl them with his baton and long fingers, and how it looked untied, forming a messily shaped halo behind his head while resting on the pillow during one of your many cuddling sessions… doesn’t mean he had to ask for your permission.

It’s not like he knows how much you love to brush his soft locks before twisting them back into the braids that come hunting you on your dream-filled nights. Because you’ve never told him. So it’s not his fault if all these things don’t matter to him.

“You don’t like ‘em?” He coughs to hide the embarrassment he feels after asking such a vulnerable question. Ran has never really cared about what other people think of him, except for maybe Rindou, sometimes. But you’re an exception.

He knows he’s far from ugly and he thought he looked real good with the new haircut. He was excited to match with his little brother once again, and he thought you would also, considering how well you reacted a couple of weeks ago when Rin showed you the light purple color he got done at the saloon.

Maybe, just maybe, you like Rin a bit better? No, he thinks, it can’t be possible. He would’ve noticed something like that.

Then why are you acting so… mad? Or is it hurt he sees painted across your pretty face?

You let out a sigh, “No, it looks good. I overreacted, I’m sorry. I just– I wasn’t expecting you to cut your hair, that’s all.”

He scoffs, as if he doesn’t believe your words, and pulls one of your hands up to his hair. He wants to convince you that not much has changed, and you’ll still get to play with it while watching movies, he thinks it’s soft enough with the treatment he has done, “See, it’s still pretty long, just pushed back. Maybe you can braid it sometimes.”

You laugh at that and Ran smiles at you. You meet his soft gaze before daring another glimpse at his new haircut. It’s styled in such a way that accentuates his sharp facial structure, jawline visible in all its glory.

“You look…” Hot. Fuck. You shake your head, trying to reign yourself in as you stroke the soft hair, “It looks good, more mature. It’s fluffier than I thought, Rannie.”

The more you look at him the more you realize that this new look of his is toying with your already decaying sanity.

Pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake.

Ran lets it go after that, props you to get settled on the couch, and removes his suit jacket before grabbing some drinks and snacks to watch a movie.

An hour in, he lays his head on your chest. It’s routine, he’s always been clingy with you, in private. And you’ve always enjoyed the closeness, no matter how confusing it might be, so you never question him.

Your hands subconsciously bury themselves between his lilac locks. You can hear him let out a deep sigh as you scratch his scalp, relaxing into your hold.

“Looks good, Ran. I like it a lot,” You whisper as if to reassure him, whilst you’re only stopping yourself from confessing that you would like him even if he were bald. Your gentle motions make him fall asleep with his lips curled in a smile.

My sleepy boy, you think.

That night you wake up in a cold sweat. The blond tresses that you constantly dream of softly stroking have been subsided by messy lilac locks. The short length is being gripped by your hands as its owner's head peaks from between your thighs. Unfortunately, it’s not very the first time you dream of Ran in such a compromising position. But the matching lavender gaze staring at you with purpose is now fresh in your memory, and makes his haircut seem even more attractive, the perfect length to shove him back against your heat.

Your cheeks redden as you try to shake the feeling away, you get rid of the covers and turn on your side ready for sleep to take over once again, but his new and improved look keeps hunting you at every toss and turn.

You reach into your bedside table for the only thing that can bring you peace of mind: your trusty vibrator. It’s a small bullet one, but it does its job just fine when you press it against your clit to release the pent-up stress of the day. You think nothing of it when the face that appears behind your closed eyelids as you come is that of your bestfriend.

The next couple of weeks, it doesn’t escape Ran the fact that you’re looking at him a little weird. At first, he thinks you might still be trying to get used to his new look. It was definitely a drastic change, and for you who have known him for such a long time, to be faced with it without him even giving you any heads up must’ve been weird. So he hopes that the gift he has planned to give you, will be enough to make it up to his bestfriend, to show how much he cares about your friendship and your opinions, even if he didn’t ask for it this time.

Then he starts panicking because you stop picking up his phone calls. You don’t make plans to hang out with him anymore, just shoot a text from time to time to let him know that you’re okay but busy. He’d like to believe you, but you’ve always made time for him before. You’re avoiding him.

He doesn’t know that you cannot bring yourself to face him anymore. You had managed to suppress the feelings you harbor for him for years, but seeing him in another light, with his childish braids replaced by a more mature and undoubtedly attractive look, has been the hardest challenge for you.

You feel ashamed by the number of times his face has been appearing in your mind at the most inconvenient times. You feel too dirty to look him in the eyes and pretend like you don’t dream of them at night.

Ran has reached a level of desperation where he has to involve his brother before he loses his cool over something that, he thinks rationally, shouldn’t even bother him that much. The two of you are just friends, you don’t owe him your time.

Luckily, you pick up Rindou’s call on his first try, you haven’t heard from him in a while, so it only makes sense that you do, might be something important. What if something has happened to Ran?

Rin doesn’t want anything to do with this mess, but he can’t bear to stress over the safety of his brother anymore as he comes to their meetings looking tired and miserable as hell. Bonten is just starting out, and they’re dealing with some heavy shit now, his brother needs to fucking focus.

So he invites you over for some drinks. Explains how it’s just a small get-together they’re throwing to celebrate a new deal, only some of the guys will attend. And when you ask about Ran, he rolls his eyes but replies that his brother is not gonna be there. Which is a lie, a big fat lie that is gonna turn into a headache for him soon enough. He knows that already.

You show up just because you’ve been holed up in your apartment for the past week. Work has been… well, work. And your friend group is pretty much the same as Ran’s, so you couldn’t risk him getting word of you being out and about after you’ve turned down all his invitations. You’re joining tonight because Ran hasn’t tried to contact you in a few days, and Rin has promised his brother is gonna be held back at work. Getting a few drinks with your old friends is the perfect way to destress.

You don’t make it that far, though, because the moment you walk in Ran is already there. Mingling about and walking like he owns the place, which he does. You turn to Rindou, who’s conveniently opened the door for you and is now planning to make a run for it, and you look at him as if you’re ready to tear his head off. He must’ve known what’s going on, there’s no other way for him to be so sneaky about this. He sends an apologetic look your way before scrambling away to Sanzu, who’s waiting for him in the dark of the corridor leading to the rooms.

Ran stutters over to you the moment his eyes lay on your fidgeting figure. He’s wearing a pair of dress pants and a shirt that look like they’ve been tailored to fit his lanky body in such a way that makes it hard for you to breathe. His short hair is parted and gelled back, a few pieces falling off the hairstyle and resting effortlessly on his forehead.

“Hey pretty, you’ve made it.”

“Looks like it,” you shrug your shoulders, looking around awkwardly as he ushers you into the middle of the living room. You should’ve known the brothers would’ve stuck together. Fuck you, Rindou.

“D’you want something to drink?” He sits beside you, and the scene reminds you so much of when he last came over to your apartment, except this time you’re surrounded by a handful of people. Gotta make sure you’re on your best behavior, so you turn down the drink.

“C’mon, work has been stealing you from me for weeks now, y’need to let go a little.” He can sense you’re tense, and maybe alcohol isn’t the best choice in this situation, but he doesn’t know how else to let you at least look at him. He feels a pang in his chest. Why won’t you even look at him?

“I’m okay, thanks.” You’re acting so cold and distant. He’s starting to wonder if all of this really has happened over him simply cutting his hair, or if there’s something deeper beneath it. Did you feel betrayed by him not telling you?

“I think I’m just gonna go home, I’m pretty beat actually,” you start to say, and Ran doesn’t want to force you, but he doesn’t want you to go either. “Please, just some more time to catch up. Rin wanted to see you as well,” as he says this he looks around the room and curses his brother for leaving with Sanzu.

Ran’s ass gets saved by Kakucho tapping on your shoulder before he wraps an arm around both of them as you turn to greet him. You’re smiling again, just how Ran likes to see you, but the pit of his stomach is burning with something akin to jealousy.

He’s relieved that Kakucho stopped you from upping and leaving, but he doesn’t like how you get up and join him at the counter to get him another round. Seems like you’re not drinking still, means you don’t plan on sticking around.

Ran is bummed out, he stops staring at you and Kakucho after some others join in on the conversation. He doesn’t want you to mingle with these people too much (most of them have something to do with Bonten, after all), but he’s the one who strategized all of this in the first place, so he lets you enjoy yourself. He’d rather stop pushing you before he makes it worse.

In the meantime, you’re watching a pouting Ran sit on the couch from the corner of your eye. Kakucho snickers as he notices, and you swat him away when he suggests you go sit back down with “your Ran”.

“He’s been a mess these past few weeks, I think he misses you. A lot,” Kakucho has never been anything but kind and truthful to you, that’s why you enjoy his presence so much. He’s a breath of fresh air around the much violence this friend group has experienced growing up. He’s one of those who has suffered the most but he always has a nice word to spare. Such a pure heart, his.

Your eyes wander back to where your heart is, but what you see makes your face turn into a grimace. A pretty girl you’ve known for a while, someone’s girlfriend you recall, has sat down in your spot and is now talking to Ran. They seem to be sharing a laugh as she reaches over to stroke Ran’s hair out of his face, before gesturing at it as if complimenting the new hairstyle.

The interaction is short-lived and friendly, you know her for being nothing but nice, but you feel like shit now.

You don’t like the feeling of jealousy, especially when it’s not even excused. You just don’t like when people touch Ran’s hair, and you do even less now that it has become such a touchy subject for you. He let her, that’s the problem.

“Yeah, I bet he missed me alright,” you mumble bitterly as you excuse yourself from Kakucho.

It doesn’t take you long to stand in front of Ran and stare down at him with cold eyes, “‘m leaving. Have a goodnight,” You direct the last bit to the girl, hoping she doesn’t think you’re remotely even mad at her. Then, you leave the apartment in such a rush that you don’t hear Ran calling for you. You feel like you’re underwater and the first real breath of air you take is back at your flat.

All you had time to do, before hearing the furious knocks banging on your door, is take off your makeup and wear your pajamas. Maybe, just maybe, if they had started shaking the wood just ten minutes later, you would’ve been sleeping already and not giving enough fucks to get up from your bed.

You open the door, no need to check from the peephole as you already know who it could be at this ludicrous hour.

“We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t, I have work early in the morning,” you try arguing as you go to close the door. He blocks it with his shoe, pushing it open with his right hand as he stares at you with a look he usually reserves for Rindou when he gets pissed off about something important. It’s completely different from the one he has while fighting, he’s not being snarky or overconfident, he looks serious and undeniably mad.

“You’ve been avoiding me. For weeks. ‘Cause I cut my fucking hair.” He slams the door as he steps inside the apartment and you jump from the sudden sound, walking towards you as you slowly back away and fidget with your raised hands. You’re not scared of him, you know he’d never do anything to hurt you. You’re just scared of the confrontation that is about to go down, the fact that you’re gonna have to tell the truth, for once and for all, cause you can’t possibly hold it from him anymore. And just like that, you’re gonna lose Ran.

Ran takes in your panicked state and slows down to approach you carefully, his face softens and he clasps your hands in his bigger ones. With the grip he has on them, he drags you closer to his body. The two of you are standing in the center of the room as silence overtakes it. You can feel his stare burning your skin but you keep your own cast down.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” His thumbs are stroking your skin in a calming pattern, “I don’t know what I’ve done, but I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about. The one apologizing here should be you! “You did nothing wrong, Ra–“

“Please look at me,” you cast him a glance from under your lashes, but the way he’s staring back is so intimidating that you can’t help but feel your face heat up and you have to divert your eyes elsewhere, “You can’t even look at me.”

“Ran, I swear this has nothing to do with you cutting off your piss-colored hair.”

He knows you well enough not to get offended, your self-defensive mechanism has always been that of getting mean.

Two fingers find their way to your chin to grip it and raise it enough so that your eyes meet once again. You can’t escape him this time.

“Tell me how to fix it, how to fix us.”

His voice is almost a whisper, he sounds so distraught, blaming himself for your stupidity. You can’t take it anymore. You love Ran, the last thing you want is for him to be hurting.

“I’m not mad at you Ran, I’m mad at myself,” His purple eyes widen with surprise, but he remains silent as he lets you explain yourself, “This is gonna sound, real bad but… I couldn’t bring myself to face you these past few weeks. Cause I had a wet dream about you. After you cut your hair…” You’re not telling the whole truth as of yet – there have been multiple dreams – but you need to test the waters first.

“Oh,” Well fuck, you’ve said it now. “Oh, wow.” His hands drop his hold on one of yours and fall from your chin, for a moment you think he’s gonna step back and run away far from you, but then you feel his touch on your waist, moving you even closer than before.

His lips settle on your forehead, stamping a kiss on the skin while you feel his mouth vibrate against it as he shakes with laughter.

This is Ran we’re talking about, ‘course he’s not gonna run away, he’s gonna embarrass you to the ground. In a week's time, everyone in your friend group will probably know about this. Not only is your friendship officially ruined, but you’ll never get to step outside of your flat without feeling like a walking joke ever again, “Are you laughing at me?”

“You got embarrassed?” He places another smooch over the same spot, “So what if I made you wet in a dream? It was my haircut, wasn’t it?”

Ran giggles. The motherfucker thinks he’s funny.

“Is that why you reacted that way back at my place? You got mad someone else was gripping my hair?” His mocking voice makes you flush red, but you know better than to give in to his teasing.

“She barely touched you, please. Like I give a damn,” You roll your eyes, finally getting the courage to stare at his smirking face as you fall back into your comfortable routine of making fun of each other. “I can always grip it myself and show you the difference,” You bark back, watching how the side of his curved lips slightly twitches.

“Go at it, babygirl.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Gosh, you seem to be pretty mad still,” he’s pouting, and you swear you wanna bite his lips so badly right now.

Get a fucking grip, oh my goodness. You haven’t even told him the worst part yet. He doesn’t know you’ve masturbated to him. He doesn’t know you like him way more than a simple friend should.

“Should I find some way to make it up to you?” His words snap you back to reality, but he’s been observing you, lavender hues taking in your scrunched-up face as you think hard over something that is still concealed from him. He wants to kiss your cute cheeks, wants to hear you giggle. You’re his precious girl, he feels this visceral need to let you know just how much he cares.

Ran’s mouth presses against the apple of your cheeks once, twice, trice. He’s leaving kisses all over the bare skin, switching from one side to the other, kissing the top of your nose endearingly.

One of the hands he has gripping your waist slides to the center of your back, over the sleep shirt you’re wearing, trying to stop you from running away from his kiss attack – as if you would – and to keep you comfortably pressed against his embrace.

He can feel you melt against his body. Rosy lips parted to take in deep breaths. Your eyelids are now closed and he doesn’t waste time kissing over them as well. He can feel your skin heating up against his mouth, feverish-like, but he can’t stop himself from dragging his lips lower to peck at your jawline.

The kisses he’s giving you are all kinds of kisses, from short and sweet pecks to loud and cute smooches, to more sensual and wet ones, especially when he reaches the skin of your neck. At this point, you can’t help but raise your hands to his hair and grip the short length of it just like you promised to show him. He lets out what sounds like a moan in the croak of your neck, but you think you must’ve imagined it as you can’t really hear much over the sound of your beating heart, the blood furiously pumping in your ears.

You know you’re enjoying this way too much, and for a moment you start to feel dirty again. He’s showering you with love because you’re his best friend, and your head is turning something so pure into nasty thoughts.

It’s not the first time he has smothered your face in kisses, maybe not to this extent, but you guys haven’t seen each other in weeks, so it only makes sense why he’s reacting to your closeness in such a way.

That’s until he sucks on the soft spot behind your ear and takes the lobe between his teeth to pull the skin. The way his name comes out from your mouth, breathless and whiny, makes him weak in the knees.

He’s gonna turn all your wet dreams into reality. You just need to say the word and he’s gonna give you what you deserve and more.

His nose is now bumping against yours, mouth pressing between the space above your cupid’s bow, the corner of your mouth, the bottom of it. Your lips graze each other every time he moves along. At this point, he has kissed every inch of your face except for the mouth. You know that would be taking it a step too far. The already thin lines of friendship between the two of you would blur to a point of no return.

At least on your part; you know Ran doesn’t shy away from human touch as you do, so it might not carry the same weight for him, you’re nearly sure of it.

You can’t possibly know how wrong you are, because as you’re thinking that, Ran is holding himself back from closing the space between you.

He has been dying to kiss you for years, since the first time you offered to braid his hair for him.

“What did you dream of?” he whispers, gruff voice scratching a part of your brain that you didn’t think existed as his hot breath washes over you, only inches away.

“Uhm, I… I don’t really remember.”

“You’re not a good liar, princess,” his mouth moves closer to your ear, trailing on the soft skin on his way there, as one of his hands grasps the fat of your left thigh and hooks it over his hipbone. “What was I doing that made you wet? Did you touch yourself because of me? Tell me.”

You know that if you could see yourself from the outside right now you’d laugh at how red your face probably is, but there’s nothing to laugh about how firm Ran’s voice is when giving orders. It might’ve sounded like he was teasing you before, but he’s being completely serious now. And you’d never dare disobey Ran when he gets like this.

“I- You were eating me out,” you gulp, your throat lets you heave the words out with difficulty. “It was either that or… some other nights, you’d do more.”

So it’s multiple dreams, different nights. Ran’s grip on you tightens, “Did you touch yourself?” He repeats the question, eyes dark and attentive, as if he’s dying to know. As if he can’t picture it in his head without you guiding him through it. Fuck it, you think.

“I did, used my vibrator-“You can’t even finish your sentence because Ran is grasping your other leg and lifting you up in the air. You circle his neck with your arms and hold on tight in fear of him dropping you, but his strength makes it seem like he’s barely breaking a sweat.

“Fuck, can I kiss you? I’m dying to taste you.”

It takes you some time to elaborate on his desperate plea, but once you do, you consent enthusiastically, “Yeah? Yes!“

The moment your lips meet, it’s like nothing else matters in the world. Ran is kissing you, his lips are moving over yours with expertise. He starts slow and deepens it to the point you have to push him away slightly to regain your breath.

Sometime during the kisses that come after, Ran has you up against the wall. He runs the tip of his tongue over the seam of your mouth, but you don’t open it straight away to pay him back for all his usual teasing. That’s until he presses his hips against yours, and you feel his hardness rubbing on you.

“Oh my god, fuck, Ran.” He takes your surprise as an opportunity to tangle his tongue with yours. You moan in his mouth, and he groans back, parting just enough to let you know what he needs, “I want you so bad, pretty girl.”

You buck into him as if asking for more and bite his lip before letting it go, watching as it falls back into place.

Ran laughs at that, starting a trail of kisses from your puffy lips all the way to your exposed collarbones. He knows you’re not wearing a bra, you don’t sleep in them. The first thing he noticed when he stepped foot inside your apartment tonight is how your nipples were perked up against the cotton of the shirt. He also knows the only thing covering your bottom is a pair of panties. Keeping this in mind, he sends you a look while reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt, as if asking for permission.

You nod and he frees you of it, chunking it somewhere behind his frame. He’s holding you up with his hips alone, navel pressed tightly against yours. That’s so fucking hot.

His hands make a b-line to your breasts, squeezing them to get a feel, and the motion is as pleasurable to you as it is for him, making his cock jump in his pants. You can feel his length twitching and it’s driving you crazy.

“Please-“ Your voice breaks the moment Ran puts you back down, you struggle to keep yourself on your feet and watch as he bends to bite at one of your nipples.

“Oh my god, yes,” he’s twisting the other with his fingers, and regretfully leaves them behind as he moves in a downward path over your body. He’s so close to your heat that he can smell your arousal, and when he casts his eyes toward your mound, he sees the wet patch staining your panties.

“Is this because of me?” a slap on your covered cunt follows his question. He knows already, you’ve made it clear, but he wants to hear you say it.

“Yes, yeah, Ran, baby. It’s all because of you.”

He thinks you must be already pretty out of it, because you’re not usually this straightforward when it comes to sex, in front of him at least. He heard how dirty you can get when talking about it with other friends, so he’s happy he’s found the key to open you up to him, literally.

It’s after your nth confirmation that Ran decides to grasp the side of your cotton panties and slowly drag them down your quivering legs. Both of you still can’t believe this is happening. You’re about to satisfy his every craving, and he’ll make sure to do the same for you.

Ran is on his knees, staring up at your body as if it’s a piece of art that has moved something inside of him. His admiring gaze is pushing all of your shyness and insecurities to leave you. His making you feel comfortable while being so exposed and vulnerable is exactly why you fell in love with him in the first place.

The weight of a peck being stamped on the inner skin of your thigh is what you feel before your body starts being covered in kisses. He’s raising to his full height while doing so, and the last one he gives you is on your forehead, just like the first of the night.

“I need you, Ran.”

Everything is still around the two of you, in the silence of the night you can hear the deep breath he takes. You lean forward to kiss the tattoo peeking from the collar of his dress shirt.

The hanafuda is a bright reminder of the life he has selfishly involved you in, and for a second he rethinks his next move, but you quickly realize he’s getting into his head and raise on your tippy toes to kiss his pink lips.

“Take me to bed, Ran. Don’t make me beg.”

You’ve told him multiple times that you can take care of yourself, and you know that where you can’t on your own he’s gonna be there to save you. You believe him, and he has to do the same when you tell him that he’s not gonna get rid of you that easily.

“You’re gonna beg either way,” he promises with a sneaky smile as he grabs your ass in his hands, making you straddle his hips as he carries you to your bedroom.

More kisses are being shared between the two of you during the short way, and he can barely tear himself from you as he lays you on your mattress.

You think he’s reaching into your bedside table for condoms but what he finds is even better: your pink vibrator. He looks at it as if he’s discovered gold. When he orders you to take it and use it on yourself, you realize he wants to watch. He wants to recreate what you’ve so cutely told him you’ve been doing for the past few weeks while thinking about him. Ran wants to see for himself.

He stands at the foot of the bed while you tease your entrance with the bullet vibrator, collecting your wetness to make it glide more easily over your clit. You keep your legs spread to give him a show, watching as he pays you back by removing piece by piece of clothing.

His full-body tattoo reveals itself to your greedy eyes. You’ve seen it multiple times, but have never gotten to take it in all together.

You’re panting, reaching your slit with one of your fingers as your opening clenches around nothing under his lust-filled gaze. “Hold it,” his deep voice tells you, and you follow his instruction, regretfully so.

“Keep it spread fo’ me.” You spread yourself open with two fingers, bucking up to chase the sensation of your vibrator. “Fuck, such a good girl fo’ me. Doing anything I tell her.” He grasps his hardness over the cloth of the boxers, the grey fabric sticking to his skin and forming a wet patch where his precome is leaking.

He strokes himself a couple of times before removing the last piece of clothing on his body, finally letting you see the place where his tattoo connects, but most importantly his cock.

It’s so pretty, lengthy, and a girth that would scare you if it weren’t for how long you’ve been dreaming of this moment. It bobs between his legs as he crawls over the bed to you and the pink on its head is glistening, you wish you could clean it up with your tongue right now.

You think he must also have an oral fixation because the moment he reaches you and settles between your open legs he chunks the vibrator to the side of the bed to cover your wetness with his mouth.

Curious tongue running over the mess you made, the sounds he’s making giving away how much he’s enjoying getting a taste.

“Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this. You taste like heaven, princess.” He’s raising as he mutters the words. He takes one look at your withering figure from above, before letting a glob of spit fall on your cunt.

Ran bends and goes right back in, the muscles on his shoulders moving along as his hands come up to hold your thighs open before you can crush his head, you can already feel the bruises from the tight grip forming on the skin.

It’s like the wet dreams that have been plaguing your mind ever since he cut his hair have finally turned into reality. His shorts locks are peeking from between your thighs and you’re gripping them for dear life as he feasts on you, mouth sucking around your clit and lilac eyes peeking from below your mound with a stare so intense that you can feel your legs trembling from that alone.

When his fingers join in the fun you feel yourself getting closer, he’s moving them in a come hither motion and hitting your spot just right. He’s not building up momentum or taking his time in opening you up, that’s how desperate he is. Two of them are fucking into you quickly and with precision, while his dexterous tongue flicks your bundle of nerves.

“Ran, fuck, you look so good between my legs,” You can feel him smirking against you, the boost of ego you know he needs to get him right where you want him.

“I’m gonna cum, plea– please, don’t stop.” The problem is that Ran doesn’t exactly like being told what to do, and he’s being greedy now. He has waited too long to have you, he can’t possibly wait anymore.

He stops his movements, triggering a cry on your part. You nearly kick him with one of your feet but he’s fast enough to move to the edge of the bed, sitting in front of the full-length mirror that covers your wardrobe and conveniently faces the mattress.

You stare at him, spread legs and hard length resting on his lower abdomen as he settles reclined on the palm of his hands. “Come sit on my cock.”

You’re facing his back, laying down on the bed still, and from your position you get to admire the tattoo on his back, and how his muscles flex beneath the skin every time he moves. His body is as sinful as it can be, he drips sex and makes you want to mold yourself to him and never let go. It has always scared you, this pull he has on you, but now he’s the one inviting you over. It’s not the time to shy away.

He’s watching you from the reflection in the mirror as you get up. Your naked body is to him like a tall glass of water after weeks without drinking, he feels like he would die right here, right now, if you were to walk away without letting him have a sip.

Even his wet dreams – yes, you’re not the only one fantasizing about your best friend – don’t compare to the sight of you standing in front of his spread legs looking down at him.

“Uh nah, turn around pretty,” he prompts when he sees you’re about to straddle his lap. He enjoys the sight of you doing whatever he tells you to without even having to touch your body, and he stores that information inside a little drawer in his head for later.

You finally sit down, sliding against his hot skin until you’re resting only half of your weight on his thighs. His cock is now sandwiched between your bodies, and he groans when your asscheeks rub against it while you are wiggling onto him purposely.

“I said sit on my cock, I want you on top of it.”

You’re about to fuck your best friend, it doesn’t seem real. Should the two of you even be doing this? This will change everything forever, there would be no going back from it.

You know that once he’s gonna slide inside you you won’t be able to look at any other man ever again. You barely do now, anyway.

Your right hand goes under you to grasp his length, the angle is uncomfortable but you make it work enough to give him a few pumps. His girth feels hot in your hold, and you bring it to your opening to tease yourself with his wet tip.

“Fuck baby, don’t tease me.” The reflection in the mirror shows his tensed body in all his glory, and you get a glimpse of his hands buried in the sheets, he’s gripping the fabric so tight you think blood might’ve stopped flowing.

Ran is trying not to buck up into you, he’s giving you time to adjust to his size, and you realize how needed it is when you finally lower yourself on it.

You’re watching the scene unfold in the mirror, how his cock is slowly sinking inside of you. The stretch leaves you with a burning feeling and when you nearly reach his base you realize how full you are. All your bumps and ridges are being deliciously stroked by his skin.

Your lips fall open in a pant and Ran is groaning right by your ear as he straightens his posture and bends slightly over your body. “I’ve been dreaming of this for years,” he confesses while his hands grasp the fat of your thighs, spreading you to him as he loops your legs over his, keeping them open just like that with his knees.

He can’t believe his eyes when he gets to fully glimpse how far he’s stretching your cunt with his cock. All the patience in the world wouldn’t help him hold back anymore.

He bucks up into you, having you take his cock down to the base. You let out a shriek at how big he feels inside, and after that, he starts moving. Being on top made you, at first, feel like you could be in control, but it seems like the orders he was barking at you weren’t the only thing he was planning on doing on his part.

Ran starts pounding into you from below, strong thighs helping him in bucking up. You’re being split open on his cock and he’s enjoying the show. The sound of skin slapping against skin is so sinful, but your eyes are now closed in pleasure as you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning mess. His thrusts are so powerful that it takes you very little time to lose your mind.

He’s calling for you, you can hear his deep voice and feel his hot breath on your ear after you slumped against his bigger body, resting your leaned-back head on the crook of his neck. “Mhmh, open your eyes, pretty girl,” like the good girl you are, you do as said, even if you’re struggling to keep them open when his thrusts don’t let up, but instead seem to be getting deeper every time you do something he asks of you right.

He grabs your chin with his thumb and pointer, redirecting your line of sight towards the mirror, where you can see his heavy balls slap over your glistening skin from below. “Look at how much you’re dripping, that’s how I slid in so quickly.” You whimper at that, Ran always had a way with words that could get to you even when nothing of sorts was being said, always the teasing one, but now that he’s running his mouth with all these dirty thoughts you can’t help but be even more affected than usual.

“You take my cock like a pro, mh. You like it, don’t you, my pretty little slut? Oh, I just know you’re loving this. Bet your little vibrator couldn’t make you feel this good.”

He’s pressing down on your belly, making the pressure on your navel feel ten times more intense, and all you can focus on is how he’s spreading you open. “It’s so big Ran- Ah,” he thinks your words are gonna get to his head. He has to keep a solid grip on you not to melt at your praise, “Fuck Ran, please, please baby.”

“What is it that you want, use your words.”

“I wanna come, pleasee, I need it so bad,” He loves how polite you are, asking for it with a please. He’d give it to you no matter what, but he appreciates how much you’re trying for him. He knows you can get a little hot-headed, or maybe he just found that one field where you finally succumb and let others take care of you.

Ran reaches over to the forgotten toy and switches it back on before placing it over your neglected and pulsating clit. He never had anything against sex toys, he doesn’t see the harm in using them to bring more pleasure to his partners. He knows you could come from his cock alone, but he needs to feel you gushing around him right about now, before he loses it. He wants to see you dripping to the ground before he fills you up to the brim.

You grasp a handful of his hair and pull it without shame as he fucks you with abandon while rubbing your clit with the vibrating toy. He has to hold your thigh open with one of his big hands because you keep clenching your muscles, and he needs to watch as you come undone.

“Fuuck,” you’re cursing loudly, without a care for your poor neighbors who must be going crazy with the loud noises at such a late hour.

Ran is hitting all the right places, he’s prodding and searching all over your body like he needs to study it, to learn it, and knowing him and how attentive he is, you’re sure that the next time it will take him half of the time to get you there. Or maybe he’ll use his knowledge to drag it out like the teasing little shit he is.

But who said anything about a next time? You’re not even sure as to why the two of you have fallen into bed together, but what you know with certainty is that you’re perception of Ran has shifted the moment he cut his hair.

It might be crazy, ruining a years-long friendship over something so trivial, but it’s like your best friend Ran was the one with the braids, and the one you’re sitting on top of, who’s kissing your neck and whispering sweet praises in your ear, who’s bulkier and more charming and wears purple striped suits, is someone else entirely, but someone that you love all the same.

You’ll always cherish your braided Ran as your friend, but this older version of him will not be able to live inside your mind while battling your feelings as you’ve always done.

The man in the mirror looks at you with lust, but under all of that is the shade of his unchanging lavender hues, the ones who have been staring at you with unnamed affection for years. Maybe it’s time to let go of that uncertainty and fall into him once and for all.

“Ran, I’m gonna come.” He’s so good at reading your body already that he doesn’t stop, he just forgoes the vibrator opting to massage your clit with his thumb, spreading you open with two fingers, while his other hand reaches your boobs. He knows how sensitive they are, he remembers you telling him once, and that’s why he has avoided touching them until now.

His fingers alternate pinching and pulling at the erected nipples, and his hand grasps the entirety of your left beast to pull you down as you try to fight his thrusting and press you onto him.

He noses at your cheek, inviting you to meet him for a kiss. It’s a deep one, with tongues entangling and teeth bumping against each other, he has to rein you in as you’re panting and mumbling.

You don’t have the strength to speak anymore, but Ran knows the exact moment you dangle and trip over the edge because you squeeze him so tight he lets out a string of curses.

He feels you gushing around him, the squelch of wetness becoming even more loud making his cheeks tint red. He’s never been shy when it comes to sex, but the way he’s fucking you now it’s so nasty that he can’t believe how you’re letting him. His sweet girl.

Now that you’ve come on his cock, he slows down his hips to avoid overstimulating you, and he helps you regain your breathing as he kisses your cheek, “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Mh- Fuck,” Your cunt is squeezing him so hard, coherent thoughts are slowly leaving his mind in favor of you. Nothing else matters now but you.

Ran has to gather all of his remaining strength to slip from you and lay you down on your white sheets. Big eyes are looking up at him as he just hung the moon and the stars, and from his position, he gets to watch your face contort in pleasure as he slides right back inside your wet heat.

“Ran-“ “I know, baby.” Your nails are raking down his chest, red marks showing up on the untattooed side of his body. Your neck is straining as you press the back of your head into the pillow, and he eyes the still unblemished skin before placing his lips on your pulse point, sucking and biting as he goes.

His thrusts are slow but deep, you can feel the heat building up in the pit of your belly all over again. You buck up against him, watching as he lets out moan after moan, getting closer to his end. He sounds so fucking good.

He wants to drag this out, scared of what might come after the both of you come down from your highs, so he pins down the side of your hips with one hand, resting on his hunches as he grasps both of your wrists in the other and raises them over your head.

He’s circling his hips now, rubbing his navel against your clit and relishing in all the pretty noises you’re letting out.

“Pretty girl- can you come fo’ me one more time? You’ve been s’good to me, gimme another. Just one- one more,” Ran’s voice is strangled, he’s trying to hide how much the pulsing of your cunt is affecting him, with very little success. His balls are strained and heavy with cum, he wants you to come around him as paints your walls in white.

You’re moving to break free from his grip but his strength doesn’t let you, so you try begging for him, “Rannn, more! Please, need more, I’m so close- Wanna cum.” You’re whining, sweat running down your body, he looks at how your skin is glistening and wants to lick you up.

Ran has never been able to tell you no, so he moves the hand that was holding you down to your neck, thumb resting over your pulse as he squeezes enough to make you feel it. His hips resume his thrusting with a purpose.

“Cream on my cock, ‘m gonna fill you up, angel,” and you do just that, on command. Ran thinks you ruined every other woman for him, right there and there. It’s like you were fucking made for him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, babygirl.”

He’s right behind you, mouth parting as he groans and repeats your name like a fucking prayer. You’re arching your back, your chests are pressed together and Ran swears he can hear the sound of your heartbeat as he fills you up with cum.

With scrunched-up eyebrows and eyelids fighting to stay open, his purple eyes are taking you in. Your legs are locked behind his back and his hips keep pressing against yours as he slowly drags out your highs, cum dripping down his thighs as he tries to fuck it back into you.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you manage to let out in surprise after regaining your breath. Ran lets go of you the moment his mind is clearer, and when you feel him slip out from within you, for a moment you’re scared he’s gonna get dressed and leave you laying there.

But Ran just parts your legs before you can close them in shyness, and takes one good look at the mess you’ve both made before diving in. He’s happy he’s gotten to fuck you raw, so now he gets to taste how good you are together.

You’re still so sensitive that when his tongue makes contact with your folds, you tremble. He takes his time in eating it out of you, loud smacks and wet noises can be heard as he does, along with his hums of approval, “Mhh, taste so fucking good, baby. Wanna try?”

You furiously nod at that, dragging him away from your heat before he gets in his head that he needs to make you come again; you don’t think you’d be able to do that now, the overstimulation from those simple touches already taking you to the verge of crying for him.

Ran finally kisses you again, tongue slipping past your lips to make do with his promise, and you moan in appreciation at the taste of you combined. Everything he does is just so fucking hot.

He doesn’t stop once you do, and risks stripping you of your breath completely, but you’re not any better. The last thing you want now is for him to not kiss you anymore, so you grip his infamous hair once again, scratching his scalp with your nails as you’ve always liked doing to get a reaction out of him.

Ran shakes in your hold, he has to pull away or he’s gonna fuck you all over. He can feel himself getting hard against your thigh, so he decides to leave your embrace. He’s aware of the elephant in the room, and his maturity is screaming at him to talk things out before he can fall right back into it.

“Ran… please, don’t leave,” he glances back at you because of the way your voice breaks while muttering that sentence. His heart clenches when he sees your lash line glisten with unshed tears, so his hands find their way to your pretty face to hold it as he stands close to the edge of the bed, bending over you. He kisses the tip of your nose, then takes your mouth in a chaste kiss.

“‘M not going anywhere, my love. Just need to take care of my pretty girl. Give me one minute and I’ll be right back, okay?”

A simple “‘mkay,” leaves your lips in a mumble, and Ran helps remove the sheet from under your spent body to cover you with it before leaving the room.

It takes you a few seconds to elaborate on everything. Aside from what happened in the past hour, you’re now fixating on the names he just called you. My love. My pretty girl.

His? You definitely are, you just didn’t think he knew.

Once he steps back in the room, you notice he’s cleaned himself up and wore his discarded boxers. You take him in while he walks closer, silently appreciating his physique as you’re used to doing. But this time you get to recognize the bruises and red marks littering his body as something you’ve done yourself.

As promised, he’s carrying a wet towel and a bottle of water, and he carefully cleans you up with the former.

After making sure you’re hydrated, he settles by your side under the sheets and drapes his arms around your waist as both of you lay on your respective sides, facing one another.

“I was planning on giving you a gift, after the party was over, y’know? But you just had to run away,” he lets out a big sigh, as if thinking back to your fight makes him drained all over again.

“What is it?” You ask, as curious as always. He loves this side of you. He loves you, actually.

“I gave Rin one of my braids after I cut them off. I was thinking about giving you the other one,” your eyes widen, and the movement of your fingers running over his collarbone stops as you ponder over his words. “I know how much you like them, so did I. Want my two favorite people to keep them safe for me.”

Your heart has never beaten this fast, you think it might start overheating and set your whole body on fire. You bat your eyelashes, willing the tears away as you hook your hands under his face, gently stroking his jaw.

“Thank you,” is the last thing you whisper before closing the distance, repaying him with another short but sweet kiss.

When you separate, you lean your forehead against his and he softly calls your name. In the closeness of your embrace, you meet his lavender haze, “I love you.”

The only thing that follows his sentence is silence. You think you must’ve fallen asleep, this has to be another one of your dreams, one of those sweet ones you used to have when Ran still had his braids and the two of you were younger.

Ran could easily take your stillness as an answer. He could fall victim to his hidden insecurities and make you think he meant it in a platonic way to somewhat try and save what remains of your friendship. But he knows that no matter what your response to his confession might be, he wouldn’t take it back for the world. There’s simply no getting over you.

“Don’t misunderstand,” He knows how much you overthink, that’s why he should’ve said this before. “I’m in love with you, always have been.”

You think your heart must’ve stopped completely now.

“Ran…” “Sh, I know, it’s okay.” He feels the need to comfort you straight away, to let you know that not sharing his feelings is okay. He’s always gonna be there for you, no matter what. “God, Ran, I love you so much.”

The lips that suddenly find his, again and again, are not the only thing taking his breath away. Both of you cannot believe how stupid you are, how you’ve been in love this whole time while thinking the other could never see you that way. His hands are all over your heated skin, caressing down your back as you hold him closer.

“Want you to be mine, baby.”

“‘m yours Ran,” his kisses are spreading everywhere he can reach, he’s getting drunk on you once again. Bitten lips part to let out panting breaths, and you notice soon enough how the newfound confessions are affecting not only yours truly.

Heady eyes and tinted cheeks present themselves to you. You think the marron of his natural blush and the shade of purple staining his pale skin look a lot like the color of the hair that started this all. You love it already, just like you love him.

And Ran lets you happily grip onto it as he takes you again and again, that night. No more wet dreams that leave you running away from him, he’s gonna make sure to fill your nights with something that’ll make you want him even closer, every day, from now on.

Right before falling asleep, as dawn leaves space for daylight behind your closed curtains, you take one last look at your sleepy Ran.

You comb back his messy hair to uncover his pretty face, softly kissing his forehead before falling into a dreamless sleep. There’s no need for dreaming anymore, you have everything you want and need right here in your arms.

Might have to send his hairstylist a bottle of wine as thanks, though.

#ran haitani #ran smut #ran haitani smut #ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #ran x you #ran haitani x you #ran x y/n #ran haitani x y/n #ran x oc #ran imagines #ran haitani imagines #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev smut #bonten smut #bonten #haitani rindou

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steddieasitgoes · 1 year

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Steve and Robin have spent most of their shifts at Family Video, whispering and giving each other suggestive glances whenever a pretty girl walks through the door. Steve used to hate it whenever Tommy H. made him do stuff like this, but it's different with Robin. Less about objectifying and more about admiring a woman's beauty — at least, that's what Robin tells him when he brings it up one day.

With his conscious clean, he leans into it, and the two have so much fun silently staring at pretty girls. They learn that they have pretty much the same taste in women — minus Tammy Thompson — which isn't surprising considering they share just about everything in common.

And while it's fun sharing glances and watching each other blush red when the cute girl gives one of them more attention, Steve also wishes he had someone who would do that with him when he spots a cute guy in the mix. Steve tried to bring it up to Robin once, but she wasn't having it.

"Stevie," she leveled. "All I see is a faceless blurb that smells too much like pine. You're the only guy for me."

So, he let it go.

Eddie and Gareth have a similar game they play whenever they drive out to Indy. Gareth is usually the one to point out a petite blonde walking in their favorite record shop. If she heads to the metal section, Eddie can make a move. If it's anything else, Gareth gets to try.

Nine times out of 10, it's Gareth who flirts his way to a phone number.

Not that Eddie minds.

He has just as much fun watching his friend hopelessly flirt while casually checking out the guys who wander in the record store.

Gareth always gives him a friendly nudge whenever he notices Eddie staring too long at the back of some guy's short haircut, but it's not the same as the gentle ribbing they give each other when a cute girl walks in.

Gareth isn't into guys like he is, and that's fine.

But sometimes Eddie wishes he had someone to compare his taste in men with.

When Steve and Eddie realize they're both bisexual, they rejoice. Finally, they have someone to play their silly games with.

Except, it doesn't go at all like they'd except.

See, Steve and Eddie are both so used to having friends share their tastes in women that they don't even consider the fact that they might have different taste in men.

But they do.

They're hanging out in the lobby of the Hawkins Theater, waiting for the kids to finish getting their snacks, when Steve sees him. A guy with disheveled auburn hair and a black denim jacket cuffed at the sleeves with random patches on it. He's got a blue bandana tied around his forearm and bulky black boots.

"He's cute right?" Steve asks, nodding his head toward the guy in question.

Eddie scoffs. Scrunches up his nose like he's just smelt the worst smell imaginable and turns towards Steve. "You're kidding me, right Stevie? That dude is a grade-a-punk! A wannabe one at that! I bet he smells like cheap cigarettes and hasn't washed his hair in days."

"You smell like cheap cigarettes and don't wash your hair every day," Steve says, rolling his eyes at Eddie's outburst.

"Yeah, but I'm also broke. That guys doing it for the stupid aesthetic."

Steve scoffs and lets his eyes follow the guy until he disappears inside one of the theaters.

"Alright then, what's your type, Munson?"

Eddie hums and takes a moment to scan the crowded theater and the stops. When he turns toward Steve, he's sporting a giant grin.

"Guy. Six o'clock. By the butter dispenser."

Steve slowly turns around and nearly buckles at the knee when he spots the guy in question.

Short hair, combed back so every strand of hair is in place. He's got on a letterman jacket from one of the neighboring schools, crisp white shoes, and his left hand is tucked into the jean pocket of who he assumes to be his girlfriend.

"Him?" Steve chokes. "But he's so…"

"Pretty?"

"Jock-ish!" Steve supplies instead. "I thought you hated jocks!"

"I hate what they represent," Eddie says, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He tears his eyes away from the guy and stares right at Steve. "But I can't help it if they have a cute face that's begging to be corrupted."

It isn't until days later when Steve and Eddie are both complaining to their best friends, do they realize that having different tastes might not be such a bad thing.

Especially when their taste in men is each other.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson ficlet #dani writes #this is dumb but i havent shared anything in a while so here is something lol

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fuckyeahisawthat · 9 months

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“I don’t think that is what God wants. And I don’t think you want it either.”

This line of Aziraphale’s in the Job minisode keeps sticking out to me. Because this is the heart of the problem, right? This is how Aziraphale can see Crowley so completely and also not at all.

Because yes they suck at open communication and yes it’s because they had to hide their relationship for thousands of years and have so so so much trauma and fear to work through. But ALSO they actually do have a profound difference in how they see the world that keeps coming between them, and it’s not just theoretical but deeply personal to both of them.

Because Aziraphale still wants to believe that God is good. He can’t let go of that because his whole identity is wrapped up in being an angel of the Lord, and if God’s not good then what has he been doing for his entire existence?

And so when bad things are happening he falls back on This cannot be what God wants. The whole of season one, he refuses to believe that God could really want the world to end—even though we now know he knew this was a possibility before the world even started. He keeps going up the chain of command, trying to find someone to intervene. “That’s why I’m going to have a word with the Almighty and then the Almighty will fix it.” As if God doesn’t have all the information or hasn’t been paying attention.

And really, the events of season one reinforce this worldview for him. Because if the Archangel Fucking Gabriel isn’t sure what God wants, then maybe God did want them to stop Armageddon. Maybe it was Aziraphale and Crowley who were doing God’s work after all.

He’s gotten as far as realizing that Heaven’s orders are not the same thing as God’s will, but he still hasn’t detached the concepts of Good and Right from God in his worldview.

Crowley is a good person who does the right thing so he must still be an angel deep down. “I know the angel you were.” The only way Aziraphale can conceptualize Crowley saving Job’s children is, “Come on, you’re a little bit on our [God’s] side.” So Crowley’s fall was a mistake; Crowley belongs in Heaven, where he was so happy before the Fall. Why wouldn’t he want to be an angel again? And yeah maybe Heaven sucks now but God is still good, so there’s hope that the system can be reformed with a change of leadership, and Heaven can be made to actually do good, the way God always intended.

But that’s not how Crowley sees the world at all. He is operating with an entirely different understanding of reality. Because he figured out a long time ago (at least by the time of the Job job, but probably long before that) that you can’t base your sense of morality on what you think God wants. Not just because you don’t know for sure, but because sometimes God’s plans are fucking awful. God in Good Omens is not kind to Her creations. She doesn’t tolerate questions or doubts or disobedience. She’s capricious, turning on the creatures She made and killing a bunch of them when She’s in a bad mood. She punishes indiscriminately and disproportionately. She wagers human lives like gambling chips. The kids were supposed to be dead no matter who won the bet.

I think it’s interesting that Crowley is the one who introduces the idea in season one of “What if the Almighty planned it like this all along? From the very beginning.” That’s probably a comforting thought to Aziraphale, soothing his anxieties about going against Heaven right when he is feeling acute distress at the idea of no longer having a side. (And, in that particular moment, no longer even having a bookshop.)

But it’s not a comforting thought to Crowley. Have you seen what happens when God has a plan for you? It fucking sucks. Woe betide you if you’re the Barbie God decides to play with today. (At bare minimum, you’re coming back with some burn marks and a weird haircut.)

I’ve brought up the line “There are no right people. There’s just God, moving in mysterious ways and not talking to any of us” before, and I tend to focus on the “there are no right people” part. But also, there’s just God.

Aziraphale tends to draw a distinction between God’s will and Heaven’s orders when it suits him, and collapse that distinction when it doesn’t. Crowley almost never differentiates between God and Heaven. There’s just God, and She’s not going to explain why this is happening or listen to pleas for mercy (although Crowley still tries). You can’t trust Heaven or Hell, and you can’t count on God to show up and make everything all right. Sometimes God is in fact the reason that things are not all right. You’re on your own.

(And. Look. Crowley is right on this one. There are certainly aspects of their relationship where they’re both equally responsible for things being a shitshow, but the text is pretty unambiguous about Crowley, a demon, having the most accurate read on the nature of God in the world of Good Omens out of any of the metaphysical characters.)

Crowley rebuilt his entire sense of self, alone, after the Fall. He created himself anew and developed his own moral compass and sense of identity independent of both Heaven and Hell. “The angel you knew is not me.” When Crowley does the right thing, that’s not his angel-ness shining through; that’s just Crowley.

And from a like, trauma recovery point of view, it’s actually very healthy for him to have the realization that sometimes God’s just kind of a dick. He didn’t do anything to deserve getting kicked out of Heaven. None of them did. Just God messing them about because She didn’t like being questioned, or She wanted to see what would happen, or She needed two sides for Reasons and didn’t much care who was on one or the other, or She’s playing some fucked up little game for Her own amusement. (And if there was some Great Plan that required Crowley to fall…well, that is also fucked up. Because it doesn’t matter if there was a reason. It still hurt.)

And while Crowley in general is extremely patient with Aziraphale and his slow, halting journey away from Heaven…it’s gotta sting, every time Aziraphale doesn’t want to believe that God could be cruel, when Crowley is standing right fucking there. It’s gotta hurt when Aziraphale refuses to see something that Crowley knows to be true through his own lived experience. Because it should be enough. What happened to him should be enough to make someone who loves him walk away from Heaven and never look back. And it isn’t.

But of course Crowley is one hundred percent not going to talk about this, if he is even fully self-aware about having these thoughts, because it’s far too painful and vulnerable. (He talks to plants, goats, God, and no one in a bar at the end of the world, but never to Aziraphale.) And so he says “Tell me you said no” and “I think I understand a lot better than you do” because he can’t say Choose me. Just this once, choose me and he can’t say Believe me.

And Aziraphale is not going to think about all this and work it out for himself, because he has a massive lump of denial centered around exactly this thing, that sometimes God hurts people who didn’t do anything to deserve it. I’m sure he’s thought about the Fall in abstract terms, enough to be afraid of it, but not in terms of this is a thing that happened to a person I love. And he has certainly not allowed himself to draw any conclusions about the nature of God from it, because that is far too scary a prospect.

And so they’re stuck. Until they can figure out how to remove this massive landmine from the center of their relationship, they are going to keep having the same fight over and over again, and they’re going to keep hurting each other without fully understanding why.

#do you know HOW HARD it is to write genuine ideological conflict that also feels deeply personal?? and they did it SO WELL #i am in awe tbh #good omens #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #heaven #hell #god #the god in good omens is not nice and you can’t convince me otherwise #is a tag i have from s1 and i’m sticking with it #fall thoughts

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queermasculine · 4 months

Note

Maybe a stupid question but one I've asked myself, what's the difference in between a butch and a masc for you ? Is there one ?

not a stupid question! "butch" is an older word with more meanings across time. to straight people it's been a military style haircut, a male name (still a few old guys named butch in the US), and a fairly uncomplicated synonym for masculine. to lesbians, bisexuals and gay men, it's been all of the above, but it's also had a whole host of other connotations specific to us and our own ways of loving/performing masculinity. a lot of the different meanings of butch have faded or fallen out of fashion over the years, but the word has more or less kept its purpose among lesbians, giving it the lesbian tint it has today.

"masc" is a much newer term, and unlike butch, i don't believe it's ever been widely used by the straight mainstream. (not a lot of grandpas named masc out there.) it's my impression that masc first spread out from gay guys on grindr, or at least that played a big part in popularizing it, and it's been used pretty much exclusively in an lgbt context ever since. in that sense it's the word with the more explicitly queer origin, despite having a much shorter history. having risen to popularity in the age of social media, masc carries none of the historical baggage of butch, and as such it's a more open-ended term, implying very little about a person beyond their masculinity. you can see this difference exemplified in google search results: while looking up butch will primarily yield information about the word's significance to lesbians, masc will net you more neutral descriptions, like "a person whose gender identity is masculine, but who is not necessarily a man."

despite all that, masc and butch usually serve the same function (to express the masculinity of the subject) and are used pretty much interchangeably in many contexts. also worth noting is that the lesbian association of butch is not a rule, just an observation i've made about modern perceptions. bisexual women have always used butch (and femme) alongside lesbians, and to this day you'll still encounter gay men – usually older – who identify as butch. so in conclusion, if you're trying to pick what label to use for yourself, i wouldn't worry about it too much. both terms have room enough for you in them.

#personally i dig butch for the connection to lez culture & for the images of old-timey leathermen and cigar-smoking biker dykes it conjures #but i'll respond to masc when called👍 i've got no quarrel with masc #mail

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clockwayswrites · 6 months

Text

Like Betta Fish Do Part 28

wc: 3020, masterpost

“I get why you insisted on picking me up,” she said as she watched the black sedan part the sea of reporters outside of Wayne Manor. Her hand made a half aborted motion, like she wanted to fidget with with her hair despite the red being cropped close to her scalp in a pixie cut.

The haircut would be a new thing, or new enough that in stress old habits were still there. Perhaps something she did when moving into her doctorate. A new hair cut to go with a new stage of life. She went for an extreme though, maybe trying to shed a metaphorical weight or maybe a bob would have been too much like her mother’s hair. Maybe both.

Dick gave his head a little shake and tried to stuff the parts of himself that couldn’t help be analyze someone away.

It was worse with the stress of it all.

“I know, right? They’ve been crazy,” Dick said with a laugh.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

Dick blinked. “Do what?”

“Pretend everything is okay. You don’t have to do what with me. After all, we’re both big siblings, aren’t we?” Her own, wry smile didn’t reach her aquamarine eyes.

Dick wanted to protest and for a moment he almost did. Then Dick just sighed and let himself slump into his seat. “That obvious?”

“No, I just know what it’s like,” Jazz said.

“I shouldn’t be putting this on you though, not with what happened to Danny—”

She held up manicured hand. “Don’t. Suffering isn’t a competition. Besides, I got to learn this happened knowing that Danny was already safe and being taken care of. I didn’t have to think he was dead like you all did. I also didn’t have to learn about all the rest of it. It’s hard, isn’t it?”

“Knowing my little brother is still dead?” Dick gave a bitter bark of a laugh. “Yeah, it’s hard.”

“Half dead,” Jazz said with a smile that was all too understanding. “That half part is important to them. They’re half dead. They’re half alive. They aren’t the little brothers we had before and that’s hard. It’s okay for that to be hard.”

Dick rubbed at his face. “It shouldn’t change anything.”

“But it does.”

“It does.”

“That’s alright,” Jazz soothed. “It’s a big fact, of course it’s going to change things. As long as he’s still your little brother and you love him then the rest won’t matter so much, not with some time.”

The car came to a stop in the garage. Dick let himself take a deep breath as the door rolled closed. It was always about needing time, but at least they still had it.

“Well, Miss Nightingale, shall we go inside?”

“Thank you, Mister Grayson,” she said and took his offered hand to get out of the car. “And thank you again for the ride, Alfred. Picking me up from WE was the right move.”

“And you needn’t worry about your car, it will be safe in the parking garage,” Alfred assured her.

She covered an amused snort with her hand. “You saw my car, no one is going to try and steal that old thing.”

Alfred held the door to the house open. “Perhaps slightly more worried about the press hoping to find something.”

“Would they really break into my car?”

“They would,” Tim said from where he was standing inside the door, typing away on a tablet. “Gotham’s lost prince shows up at a gala with his mystery boyfriend and then proceeds to press the kill button for said boyfriend? The press is going insane for it. If it was just Gotham’s press it would be one thing, but it’s broken containment and fast. Have you said anything to any reporters? Even any non statements? Is there anything that the might dig up on you, other than your parents, that we need to know about?”

“Jazz, this is Tim. We’re sorry about him,” Dick said with a strained smile. It only got worse when he took in Tim and the heavy bags under Tim’s eyes. “Tim, when was the last time you slept?”

Tim waved the question away. “I had a power nap after breakfast.”

“What Master Timothy means is that he fell asleep at the table mid-meal,” Alfred chastised as he continue into the manor proper.

“Still counts,” Tim muttered. Finally he looked up from his tablet to blink listlessly at them. “Well?”

“Tim,” Dick chastised.

“No, it’s fine,” Jazz said with a patient smile of someone used to behavior like this. “It really is… everywhere. I haven’t said anything to any press other than ‘no statement’ and I can’t think of anything. Well, I mean, I have a girlfriend but if they have an issue with her they already have Danny and Jason to rage over. How is Danny handling it all?”

“Tim has blocked all social media from the manor. You need a password to get through it and I don’t think they’ve been bored enough to try and crack it yet,” Dick said.

Jazz looked thoughtful. “That’s probably best. I’m alright with you asking more questions, but can I see Danny first, please?”

Tim blinked as if startled by the thought. “Yes, right, of course. They’re probably still in the library, that’s where I saw them last.”

“That was yesterday,” Dick pointed out.

“Oh, well,” Tim tilted his head but didn’t stop talking. “I bet I’m still right.”

Dick just sighed and exchanged a look with Jazz. Little brothers.

Jazz crouched down in front of the couch and reached out to run her fingers through Danny’s hair.

“Danny.”

“Nn.”

The corner of her mouth ticked up. “Danny.”

“’ive m’er min, Jazz,” he mumbled sleepily.

“If you don’t get up, I’m calling Cujo.”

“I’m up, I’m up!” Danny explained and jolted awake before he was left just blinking confessedly at the room. When the rest of it snapped together for him he smiled brightly. “Jazz!”

“Danny!”

“Your hair looks even better in person!” Danny said, reaching out to ruffle the short locks.

“I don’t care if you’re on your deathbed Danny, I will bite you.”

Danny sighed dramatically as he sat up properly. “I never get to die on a bed. At least this time I was sitting.”

Jazz leaned forward and wrapped Danny up into a crushing looking hug. “Oh Danny, what am I going to do with you?”

“Still don’t have an answer for you there, Jazz,” Danny said. He was practically curled around Jazz and stayed that way as she shifted to sit with him on the couch.

She looked up at Jason who was still standing awkwardly by the couch where he had greeted her. “You can sit. I don’t bite.”

Jason snorted. “You just threatened to bite Danny. I don’t believe you.”

“Her bites aren’t bad,” Danny said with a yawn. “But her aim is horrible. And don’t let her have a baseball bat. She’s lethal with one of those.”

The almost fanged way that Jazz smile made that easy to believe.

“I approve of you, Nightingale,” Damian said with a decisive nod from the armchair he was occupying.

“What are you going to do now that there are two Nightingales?” Tim asked, far too innocently.

Damian scowled, his whole face scrunched up before he gave a sharp shrug. “I am confident that the Nightingales are intelligent enough to know which one I am referring to.”

Jason shook his head at the easy way the brat seemed to accept Jazz and settled on the far side of the couch from her, leaving Dick and Tim to take the two seater.

“You didn’t have to come all this way, Jazz,” Danny said, though his words were at odds with how thoroughly he had relaxed into her side.

Jazz rolled her eyes. “You were electrocute Danny, again. Of course I was going to come see you. Even if classes were in session, you’re more important than them.”

“Hum, fine,” Danny said with a huff of air. Somehow he settled in even further to his sister’s side. “Sam, Val, and Tucker send their love. With all the crazy press I told them to stay away so not to get caught up in this.”

“It is something for sure,” Jazz agreed. “How are you doing?”

“I’m tired and tired of being tired, it sucks. Oh, I’ve got more Lichtenberg scars!” Danny stuck his legs up in the air. His fuzzy, Nightwing patterned pants slid down his legs enough to show the scarring that wrapped around his ankles. The marks were still raised and red. Jason caught the legs as they dropped and settled them into his lap. He couldn’t help but run his thumb over the mark as soft reassurance that Danny was there and alive despite it all. “Not sure if these will stick around since they’re not ghostly.”

“You need to stop collecting them. No more getting electrocuted, big sister’s order.”

“Second that on boyfriend’s orders,” Jason said.

“Thirding that from the in-laws,” Dick said. In-laws? “Aw look at that, Jaybird is blushing.”

Jason pulled a throw pillow out from behind him and lobbed it at Dick. “Shut it.”

Dick easily caught the pillow with a laugh. “Jason and Danny, kissing in a tree—”

“Grayson, try to not be an embarrassment,” Damian said with a sigh.

“What? Jason and Danny could totally kiss in a tree. Danny can fly! I mean, not that we’ve seen it yet but he says he can,” Dick said.

“Oh he can. Nothing like walking into your little brother’s room to find him sitting on the ceiling,” Jazz said. “It was an interesting childhood.”

“It makes hanging things easy too,” Jason teased.

Danny sighed dramatically. “I knew you were just into me to be your glorified ladder.”

“That’s just because he wants to climb you,” Tim muttered absently.

Jason held up his hands for Dick to throw the pillow back to him and then lobbed it at Tim. It smacked Tim square in the face, making his little brother’s shoulders slump as it landed on his tablet.

“Really?”

“Don’t be crude,” Jason said.

Tim glared at Jason from under his bangs. The kid’s hair was getting long again. “Oh that’s rich coming from the Red Hood.”

“Red Hood?” Jazz’s voice cracked slightly.

Jason buried his face in his hands with a groan.

“Oh, shit, did she now know? I thought she knew!”

The whole couch shifted as Danny pulled himself up by Jason’s shirt so that he could cuddle him. “It’s okay, I love my hero.”

“Vigilante,” Jason mumbled.

“Daniel John Nightingale!” Jazz screeched. “Tell me you’re not doing vigilante stuff again!”

“Ooooooh full named!” Dick heckled.

“I am not doing vigilante stuff again,” Danny said.

“He’s really not,” Jason promised as he shifted Danny around to be more comfortable. “That’s just family business. I wouldn’t ask him to get involved.”

“Family…,” Jazz said. Jason watched her eyes dart from Danny to Jason to the rest of them. “Ancients you’re all, what would you call it? Various Batmen?”

“Usually we just go with Bats,” Tim said with a little shrug. “Especially since we’re not all, or only, men.”

“Okay, Bats,” Jazz said with a sigh. “Really, Danny?”

Danny shrugged, completely unrepentant by the way he smiled. “I didn’t know! I didn’t even know Jason was a Wayne until just before we started dating. That one is maybe on me though, I’m bad with faces.”

“You always have been,” Jazz said. “Really though, no hero stuff?”

“None. I’m focused on school. Well, and Jason. Dates are very nice, but mostly I’m focused on school. You can’t blame me for enjoying dates too!” Danny said.

Jazz laughed and shook her head. “No, I can’t. I’m glad you’re enjoying dates. Just try to stay out of the business, okay? I want you to be able to just enjoy your life. You have enough obligations waiting for you when you’re dead.”

“Do we have to work when we’re dead?” Tim asked desperately. “Please tell me we don’t have to work when we’re dead. That’s when I was planning to sleep.”

“No, Tim,” Jazz said gently. “Most people don’t work when they’re dead. Danny’s just an idiot—”

“Hey!”

“—who became the Ghost King without realizing what he was doing. His forever job starts when he dies.”

“Wait wait wait,” Dick spread his hands. “Danny is royalty?”

“Mhum.”

“Oh my god,” Dick said with a gleeful smile that Jason didn’t trust one bit. “Does that make Jason a prince? Queen? Does it feel like you’re in one of your regency books, Jay? What’s it like.”

Jason groaned and buried his face into Danny’s hair. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Dick cooed.

“Oh good, Jason can work then,” Tim said. “I just want to sleep.”

“You can sleep now,” Jason pointed out. “No one is stopping you. Hell, Alfred would encourage it.”

“Can’t,” Tim said. “I’ve got to get this PR stuff done. Is this a diplomatic issue now too?”

“What can I answer to help?” Jazz asked in such a patently big sibling way that Jason glanced up to exchange a look with Dick. Having one more person after Tim to rest couldn’t hurt.

Tim pursed his lips. “We’ve already done the usual asking for respect during this difficult time. Babs and I have been working on making sure the part of the video where Danny asked Jason to press the button is in circulation and in the right hands. There have been some pointed emails sent. Bruce is going to go on tomorrow and give a brief statement— which we need some answers for. We’ve got Clark coming to interview in a few days to do a proper story. Luckily Vickie Val has made it easy for us to go out of Gotham for that story with how she’s been behaving.

“They’ve found out about your parents, of course, but we were able to respond instantly with your name change and, in all essence what was nearly emancipation with how quickly you did it and moved out. There are some character stories from old classmates though calling you odd but also defense from current ones that we’ve been pushing further up in the SEO. Between those details and his survival, it’s no wonder that the question of Danny being a meta is circling That’s the main thing we need to know how to address and if we want to play into it.”

Jason had to take a moment to respond to all that. He’d been so focused on helping Danny heal and stay happy that he hadn’t even thought half of that through. He knew the press were out there, of course they were, but… “You’ve really worked this out, haven’t you?”

Tim just blinked owlishly at him. “Of course I have. It’s what I do. I know you didn't like me looking into Danny when we first found out about you dating him, but… this is why I do those things. Not just to protect the family from other people, but to protect the people who get close to us. I can help direct the conversation because I know ahead of time that things like the Fentons will come up."

“Thank you Tim, really.”

“Um… you’re welcome,” Tim said before he looked back down at his tablet. “We do need to decide if we go the meta route at all. Would that cause issues with the Fentons? Do they also hate metas?”

“No,” Jazz said. “Well, they would basically look at superheroes to make sure they weren’t ghosts in disguise or possessed, but other than that they didn’t really mention metas. It was actually pretty much a non topic in our town with everything else.”

“But we’d have to be careful with what we say I can do or… well, they’ll clock me as a ghost. I’ve never wanted to find out what would happen then.”

“Is that why you didn’t want to go to a hospital?” Dick asked in that carefully gentle tone of his.

Danny shrugged. “That but more old fears. There used to be a group called the GIW that were government funded ghost hunters that had legal clearance, basically, to experiment and exterminate any ecto-entities. I really don’t want to be dissected like some classroom frog.”

“Vivisected,” Jazz corrected in such an absent way that it spoke of old arguments.

Jason clutched Danny closer to him.

“It’s okay. They never really were very above the board, it turned out, and when the power changed hands they lost their funding and just sort of disappeared.”

“But it doesn’t mean there fear did,” Dick summed up.

“We will look into them,” Damian said, standing. “To be certain that they are gone and no longer a threat to you or Todd. Drake, you will not be needed on this while you are in this sleep deprived state. I will seek Gordon’s help instead.”

“Hey! I can still—”

“Finish up asking us questions,” Jazz interrupted smoothly. “It wouldn’t be hard to spin Danny as a mild meta from the results of a lab accident.”

“Maybe even give a half truth,” Jason said. “He was electrocuted around some chemicals and he ended up with a mild resistance to it.”

“That could work,” Tim said, tapping away on his tablet. “Generally useless in day to day life other than cutting down on annoyances when wiring something but just enough to survive this sort of trap. Have Bruce throw in a joke about how Danny produces a lot of static electricity or something to lighten the mood.”

“And it would make it seem like Danny has a resistance, not a weakness, in case anyone tries something again,” Jason added.

“That would be nice. Being tased really, really sucks,” Danny whined.

Jason pressed a kiss to Danny’s temple. “I know, fish.”

“Yes, alright, Bruce will need to put it in his own Brucie wording but I think this will work,” Tim said with a little nod. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

---

AN: Rereading through this, this might just be the whole chapter. Maybe I'll make the interview it's own chapter to cut down on the shock of going to that style of pov and piece. And then the final* chapter? Thoughts thoughts...

Anyways, words are hard, brain is tired, here is Jazz!

You can subscribe to the masterpost here.

#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do

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myseungsunglove · 8 months

Text

An S-Class Connection | Hhj

Pairing: Hyunjin x reader

Warnings: language, smut, friends to lovers

Word Count: 1.7k

𖠫Summary: Seeing your best friend perform at the VMAs stirs some feelings in you that you had been pushing down for years. Upon congratulating Hyunjin on his award and amazing performance, the dynamic of your friend takes a sharp and unexpected turn into territory you were never expecting but gladly welcome.

✎A/N✎: It’s been a hot minute since I wrote a full on smut piece. I have one with Seungmin out there called “The way you Make Me Feel” but it’s mild really. This one isn’t particularly spicy, but it is my first go at a sexual encounter in a fic in a long time. It’s also my first time writing Hyunjin so I hope it isn’t massively disappointing! Your feedback is always greatly appreciated.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

「© September 23, 2023 by mysweethannie」

✘MDNI✘

Smut Warnings: Fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (stay safe, homies), creampie

The moment his eyes meet yours from the stage, you feel your feelings fundamentally shift in a way you aren’t going to be able to stuff back into a box or a closet or wherever else they had been previously hiding.

The S-Class performance ends and you are escorted backstage as the crowd roars its appreciation for Stray Kids. You are so proud of them getting to perform at the VMAs. But at the current moment that accomplishment is secondary to whatever the feeling is that is stirring inside of you.

You haven’t seen the boys since you had departed from your hotel in the morning to get ready for the evening at the VMAs. You had separate presser events to get to yourself and those didn’t align with their schedules. You’d been with Hyunjin when he got his haircut the day before, but the stylist had done a next level job with his hair tonight. The tight undercut, the short ponytail pulled up in the middle of his head. The strands of hair that fall perfectly on his forehead, framing his intense stare in a way that have your insides burning with desire. Something you had not felt, or at least not acknowledged you felt, about your best friend before.

You round a corner backstage and see the boys thanking their backup dancers. Their smiles and energy are both contagious. Then you spot Hyunjin and it feels like all the air is punched from your lungs. As if he feels your presence, he turns around and once again his eyes fall on you. The look in his eyes is something you’d not seen before, and it makes your stomach twist into knots, the heat of his gaze making your legs tremble slightly.

He slowly moves toward you, his eyes raking over your form and you suddenly look down at yourself, taking in your appearance. You are in a skin tight black dress that hugs your curves, showing off your small waist and making your hips look delectable. The dress is short, barely covering your ass, coming to rest just below it on your thick thighs. You are wearing a pair of Black Highland Stuart Weiztman boots that came up thigh high and accentuate your leg’s best features and a simple black garter visible on your left thigh.

“Damn,” Hyunjin breathes once he is within earshot. His large hands rest on your hips, pulling you into his. You can’t help the tiny gasp that escapes you. “You look fucking incredible,” he adds. You hardly register the compliment because his fingers are dancing along your hips as he rubs them gently.

“Y/n?” Hyunjin questions when you don't respond. “Anyone alive in there?” he jokes, gently tapping his knuckles against your temple.

This brings you back to reality.

“Me? look good?” you scoff incredulously. “Have you seen yourself?” you ask. “Your hair alone would be enough to part legs like the Red Sea.” The words are tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

Hyunjin narrows his eyes at you, his hands on your waist, pulling you into him so that he can whisper in your ear.

“And what about your legs? Would the hair work on them too?” he whispers against the shell of your ear, his breath hot against your skin causing goosebumps to rise up on your neck.

You pull back from him with a start, looking at his face to read his expression. Your eyes search his for any sign that he may be joking or looking to get a rise from you. You are met with a look that says he would devour you right there in front of everyone if he could.

You swallow thickly, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you take a step off a cliff you know you won’t be able to take back once you utter the words. You place your hands on the base of his head, your fingers dancing along the undercut, eliciting a shiver from him.

“Most definitely,” you finally respond, your voice breathy and desperate.

You barely have the chance to get the words out before his plush lips are pressed against yours, his tongue licking into your mouth insistently like he was in fact trying to devour you. His large hands are sprawled across the expanse of your back, pressing you tightly against him as he kisses you breathless.

Just when you start to feel a little lightheaded, you break apart both of you heaving in heavy breaths.

“Let’s go,” he says, grabbing your hand and dragging you down the hall away from the prying eyes of the others and all of the people attending the awards show.

“Fuck,” you whisper as he pulls you into a dressing room, closing the door and pushing you up against it, this time his perfect pink lips finding a home on your neck and sucking a mark there.

“I’ve wanted this for,” he kisses your neck and moves along your jawline. “For so fucking long. You have no idea,” he admits before kissing you hard. His hands are groping your ass, squeezing hard as he presses you against himself. One of your legs is wrapped around his hip, making your core come in contact with his hard length. He groans against your lips at the contact, his hand moving to push your dress up over your hips, exposing the small black thong you are wearing. “I could make you feel so good,” he teases, his fingers running over your barely clothed core. “Do you want that?”

You nod frantically.

“Your words, baby,” he says, his eyes not leaving yours.

“Fuck me, Hyunjin,” you beg, your lips leaving a trail of wet kisses along his jawline as your fingers continue to dance lightly along his freshly shaved hairline at the nape of his neck.Your lips meet again. He bites your lip and you can’t help but gasp. He pushes aside your thong, his long middle finger running between your folds, gathering the wetness that has gathered there. He circles your clit a time or two, causing you to moan out against his neck as he moves to enter you with his long finger. You hold tightly to his neck, your mouth hanging open as you fuck your self first on one finger, then two as he works to open you up.

“Need. Fuck.” the words are punched out of you as your hands move to his pants, trying desperately to push them away from his hips as his fingers continue their assault on your wet cunt. “Need you inside of me.”

“I am inside of you,” he teases.

Your hips still as you successfully push his pants over his hips, his long, hard cock springing free against your leg. You wrap your hand around his length and stroke him gently.

“I need this,” you whine, your hand holding him firmly, giving him a gentle squeeze.

Immediately his fingers leave your sopping hole as he grabs his cock, running the head against your wet folds and tapping it roughly against your clit, causing you to shiver. He lines himself up with your hole and presses the head of his cock into you, looking into your eyes and he pushes deeper into you.

“Shit,” you groan, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders as your warm walls welcome him in.

He bottoms out, his pelvis pressed firmly against your pussy as he picks your legs up off the ground and wraps them around his waist. This causes his cock to hit that sweet spot inside of you, an involuntary moan spilling for your lips. He kisses you then, and this kiss is wet and dirty, desperate. It is all teeth and tongue as he pulls his hips away from yours, only to push back into you. He wastes no time repeating the movement, pulling his cock out to the head only to shove it back in as quickly as it left your aching cunt.

“You’re so fucking tight. Absolutely perfect for me,” he praises against your lips, and that causes your pussy walls to clinch around his hard member. “Shit,” he gaspes, feeling you grip him tight.

His hips begin to piston harder and he pushes back into you, shoving your back up the door a little bit from the force of the blow. He keeps his pelvis pressed against you as he pounds his cock into you relentlessly. You can feel every delicious inch of him, his veins brushing along your walls causing you to clench around him.

“Fuck,” you moan. “I’m gonna come,” you warn. “Come inside me.” Your words were tumbling out of your mouth again as if you had no control over them whatsoever. “Please,” you beg, squeezing your walls against him as his thrusts became more erratic.

“You’d like that, yeah?” he asks, one of his hands moving between you, his fingers moving in circles around your clit. His forehead is pressed into yours, his breath fanning across your lips as he speaks. “I’m gonna fill you up so good baby,” he promises, suddenly pressing his fingers hard against your clit as hips stutter against your pelvis, the head of his cock nailing your g-spot.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin moans desperately, his movements stilling as he suddenly comes, spilling into you ropes of hot, white ecstasy. He is still twitching inside you when you come hard, your legs squeezing around his body as your own body quakes from the pleasure of your release. His lips find yours again as he helps you ride out the high.

“Holy shit,” you breathe against his lips once your body stops shaking against his. “I can’t believe we just did that,” you voice aloud.

“But I’m sure as hell glad we did,” he said, kissing you hard and pressing his body against yours once more.

“Me too,” you agree. “That better not be the last time either,” you add.

He smiles against your lips then and chuckles softly.

“I’m never getting enough of this now that you’ve given it to me,” he admits, his voice low. “I’m yours, baby,” he says, kissing you tenderly.

It is at that moment you realize what the feeling you had felt earlier in the night was. You had fallen in love with your best friend. It only took him fucking you in a dressing room at an awards show for you to figure it out.

There were worse ways to come to that conclusion, you think to yourself, thankful that no matter where or how it happened that it did. Things will definitely never be the same between you, but in the best way possible.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #Hyunjin x Reader #Hyunjin Smut #Hyunjin fanfic #Hyunjin one shot #Hyunjin Drabble #Hyunjin fanfiction

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hotchfiles · 4 months

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ lay down with me ❞ ─ a darling, in any life blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader. summary: the red thread between two people destined to be together may stretch and tangle, but those ties will never break. or: they find out maybe bars aren't all the same. content warnings: alcohol, suggestive talk. not proof read. word count: 2.1k

"Were you... Brushing your teeth?" Yeah he was. And yeah they were still on the jet, but as soon as they got back to HQ he would be on his car for the 45min ride to Arlington to see you. He couldn't risk bad breath on your first date.

Before Aaron could even answer Emily's inconvenient question, Derek came in with another one "Hair freshly cut too, anyone noticed it?" Well he cut his own hair, it would be simply rude not to look his best when he so easily could.

He knew JJ was coming in with something too when she passed by him, so he had to cut it out before "Hey, enough. I’m meeting an old friend after work, just trying to use my time wisely here." His eyes scanned the room for the reactions and even though no one replied, he could see all the little smirking around and whispering between Emily and Derek mostly.

So much for a private life.

He's not the hiding type, if he's in a relationship he has no problem letting people know it, as long as that is it, he enjoys keeping the details to himself. And right now that's all he can really say about you, you're an old friend, just an old friend.

For now.

He was running late now, and very stressed about it. Of course it wasn't the greatest of ideas to go from Quantico to Arlington by driving instead of taking the train, but he wanted to have the choice to take you somewhere else if you wanted to and to get you home safe when the date ended. He was also aware that trains didn't run as late as he might be staying.

He planned the haircut, the hotel shower right before leaving, brushing his teeth while in the jet, having his car ready, but God, did he not plan for the traffic he would have to deal with after 6PM.

But he's a gentleman, so he calls from the car system to warn you about it and he's nervous and anxious because not being present enough and being late or not there at all ruined his marriage and he wants to do better, he really really wants to.

"Oh don't worry babe, I’m still enjoying my wine in my living room. Thought it would be better to wait 'til you were in town to leave, yeah?" Aaron hopes the loud sigh of relief he let out isn't so obvious to you, but it is. You find it endearing. You were reading essays still just minutes ago, you understood him.

You weren't very sure how well would you two work considering that. But you sure as hell wasn't going to give up without at least trying it. And definitely not without a fight.

"Send me your location then, I'll pick you up in... Twenty."

"Uuuh, picking me up? Look at us, it's a real date date now, curfew's at 10PM then, don't forget it." You make him laugh easily with that, your father was a strict man, sometimes you both went to the movies or the park nearby and if you got home at 10:03 was enough for him to sit Aaron down in your living room and tell him all about responsibilities and how he was the boy and so he was supposed to protect you and ensure you were home in time.

"I am curious about what the consequences of not following the curfew will be this time though." Oh he's teasing you now, as if this wasn't your first date and the implications of consequences weren't so... Suggestive, to say the least. But he feels comfortable enough for that.

"Guess you'll have to wait and see then, agent Hotchner." Your voice drips like honey and he's pretty sure he just figured out some sort of deep ingrained fetish he didn't know he had until now. "See you soon, airhead!" You laugh innocently before finishing the call and it drives him mad in the most delicious way.

He thinks those are the most torturous 27 minutes he's ever had to go through his life, but the feeling is completely overrun with almost childish glee as he parks in front of your house. He could fit the choice for a house instead of an apartment easily on your own profile but he didn't need too, you liked your space. Apartments have no space. No privacy. He remembers vividly of a conversation you both had after your cousins were forced into an apartment because of your aunt's divorce.

He dries his palms on his pants quickly not sure if he should go to your door, stay where he is or what. He hasn't done this, the whole date ordeal in a while and it just got to him that he has no idea how people do it these days. What's too much or too little?

Aaron finally decides on leaving the car and waiting near by, after sending you a quick text to inform you he was there. It was a middle ground of sorts, he felt confident in it. Kinda.

It doesn't take you long to leave and lock your door and the sight of you immediately takes his breath away, your smile takes him back some years but your thighs remind him quickly that you are both definitely not fifteen anymore. He shakes his head softly, directing his eyes to a more suitable place for a first date: Your hands. You were holding a flower bouquet.

Flowers.

"Fuck." He mutters to himself in frustration, "I forgot to bring you flowers." You don't seem bothered about it, in fact it makes you smile more as you hand him the bouquet in your hands. "You got these... For me?" Aaron grabs the gift softly with both hands, afraid he's going to break it somehow.

"Yeah, wanted to test my theory that you're still a sap." The way his eyes were shining and his lips turned into the sweetest of smiles were enough proof to you. Aaron was always loving, caring, soft. It was interesting seeing him on the news nowdays, stoic, serious, unbothered. You wanted to see how easy it was to break him.

Turns out very easy. At least to you.

"A sap! I’m surprised I got flowers from a beautiful woman, sue me." He opens the passenger door so you can get in, which you quickly do with a cheeky smile on your face, the gift is carefully placed on the backseat before he's back to your side, seat belt on. Nosy as you are, you're already typing some address on the GPS.

"I heard people talking really good things about this place." You muse while he turns the car on, already following the instructions. "Apparently the beer is great and it stays open til late." He doesn't ask for any clarifications, if that's where you want to go, that's where he'll take you.

The food you've both ordered hasn't arrived at your table yet but Aaron has already gulped down two large beers and is trying so very hard to not show how annoyed he is, it makes you laugh, hard. He follows, laughing along and shaking his head.

"Who told you about this place?" He asks accusingly, you take a sip of your own drink and pretend you didn't hear it. "Who?"

"I don't want to tell you."

"Your students then. You trusted a bunch of twenty somethings with our date. Pitiful." You don't reply, instead you just keep laughing to yourself while you drink. The place is loud. Loud music. Loud college students. Loud busy street. You tell him that's exactly the type of place you would hang out with your girl friends to hook up back in London, his experience isn't the same, the lover boy committed since high school.

"How do they even get to know each other over this nooooise?" Laughing at his annoyance only lasts so long and now you're the one not being able to sort through your thoughts, the food is good though, you both agree while munching on the appetizers that accompany the beer.

In retrospect you should've imagined it would be this time of place by the countless mentions of beer whenever a student recommended it.

"Look around, I don't think they're actually trying to." You follow his gaze and notice that as the hours passed, the more couples formed and the less they were actually talking. Exactly as it was in your own college days. "I'm a bit tipsy so I'll let my curiosity win, you never told me why you divorced the second time." It was out of the blue, you told him the first one wasn't that bad, conflicting views on family and you both married too early in the relationship. The second one was... Harsher.

"Bastard cheated on me." You shrugged, but it was obvious it still got to you, Aaron could see it in your eyes, in your voice tone, and that had nothing to do with being a behavior analyst, and everything to do about how he just... Knew you. "His whore also pressed charges against me when I wasn't even trying to hit her, she just got in the way." He chocked on his beer and almost had to spit it out after that tiny little piece of information you hadn't mentioned before.

"You have a record?"

"He made her drop the charges when I left the apartment to him without a fight. That's why I moved back to the states." He blinks once, twice. Maybe he should be worried, but he also knew that could get a bit aggressive when losing control. Just it always happened to terrible people. "I'm obviously joking, airhead." The relief he feels is followed by an annoyed face for believing such a lie, you touch his forehead softy, smoothing the lines so he doesn't look mad anymore. He takes it as a sign, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles, then your hand, and pulls you to him, letting go to touch your chin.

If he wasn't drinking the proximity would inebriate him alone, the way your eyes closed and your cheeks blushed in anticipation, he's sweet, lips touching yours with tender patience, much more patient than you, you who lifted your body just a bit from the chair and pulled him by his collar to deepen the kiss, almost causing a disaster if any of you fell over the table with all the glass cups.

You let him go just after hearing some snickering from the table behind yours, not blaming them for it, it probably looked like an awkward kiss from the outside. But it wasn't.

"That was certainly better than our first one..." You smile sheepishly at him, putting your hands on your lap, nervous.

"You blushed and gripped my shirt." He says looking deep into your eyes, making you tilt your head slightly, showing him your confusion. "It's been thirty years, you did the same thing... You blushed and gripped my shirt."

"So you're telling me you make me feel like a school girl."

"I'm telling you you've just acted like one." You take the comment as a challenge, getting up and taking your chair with you to sit closer to him, brushing your lips to his before going to his ear.

"You're drunk and staying over, so why don't we get a taxi and I'll show you the school girl." You can see the way his neck shivers at your little teasing, but he takes advantage of the new found closeness to kiss you again, with much more hunger but also much faster than the first because he's ready to pay the tab and get out of there.

It wasn't really that hard to find a taxi, being a night time neighborhood, they knew to stay around. Aaron had your bag on one of his hands and the other on your thigh. Your arms went around his and your head laid on his shoulder. None of you talked the whole way there, just feeling each other's presence and the alcohol twirling around your minds and your stomachs.

And you did show him you were not a school girl anymore when you both got to your house: You got him your largest t-shirt and pajama pants, your coziest blanket and after you both changed and took aspirins to try and prevent the headache that would inevitably come, you got your pillows and went to the living room and laid on your big couch with Aaron, cuddling with him as some TV show re-run lured you both to sleep.

It was almost 2AM, and while you could take him to your bedroom and take his clothes off like you wanted to, you both knew it was the middle of the week, he had to wake up early to get his car, you would probably pass out under him anyway.

Cuddling was more than enough for a first date. And at least for Aaron, he was sure he wouldn't let go of your embrace anytime soon.

#lari writes sometimes #aaron x reader #aaron x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader

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stars-and-the-min · 2 months

Text

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (3) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n some band dynamics and a mini reunion in toyko

masterlist | last part | part 3 | next part

INSTAGRAM

emptybottlesbar

liked by cameliazzz and 99,284 others

emptybottlesbar Hey! Our awesome lead guitarist turned 23 today AND it's on the first night in Jakarta 🫨 Be sure to give our boy some love! P.S. we couldn't find old birthday photos without Lina (1: Kas' 23rd birthday, 2: Kas' 17th birthday, 3: Kas' 14th birthday) tagged: emptybottles_official, lukaszhang and selinabui

selinabui i'm sorry i was like his only friend growing up?

28kaslina24 kaslina 🩷❤️🩷❤️

emptybottles_official Beach City International Stadium

liked by lukaszhang and 299,726 others

emptybottles_official Snaps from Jakarta, you guys were an amazing crowd, we hope you had as much fun as we did 📸 📸 next stop: Tokyo, Japan

cameliazzz kas and aid both need haircuts why did i not notice this ↳ selinabui @ cameliazzz maybe bc ur behind them all the time

TWITTER

lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h in honour of the next stop of the 'twelve more days' tour being tokyo, here's the best thing to come out of the 'overtime' tour (before it got cancelled):

↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h look at kas serving in that polka-dotted scarf

↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h the greatest discovery was that kas and aid shared rooms the whole tour

↳ 🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@ linabelles · 2h did we ever find out about the sushi train thing? ↳ lina bui x2 grammy winner @urdaisea · 2h lina and cami went to an all-you-can-eat sushi train and almost missed night 2 because they were throwing up backstage ↳ li(n)a @meliabelrose · 1h why is this giving "pam and i feed off each others energy..." "she said that?" energy 😭😭 ↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 1h can't believe this was 4 years ago???

INSTAGRAM

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris and 109,182 others

oscarpiastri Still not over this weekend

selinabui see you soon stranger 💖 ↳ pastry81 HUH LINA WDYM SEE YOU SOON???

zhouguanyu24 the last picture 👀

landonorris great to be home, eh?

emptybottlos papaya stuff, papaya stuff, papaya- lina??? ↳ piastri_lina @emptybottlos gagged us all WHERE'S THAT COMMENT THAT SAID OSC DIDN'T CARE FOR HER

logansargeant "I did great at my home race" "the fans were amazing" "also I got to watch my girlfriend's sold-out tour's opening show" ↳ oliviafufu @ logansargeant OPENING SHOW??? HE WENT ON THURSDAY AS WELL?

selinabui Tokyo, Japan

liked by eb_jonno and 118,972 others

selinabui in the daytime (and early evening)

oscarpiastri Well, that's a completely flattering angle of me, thanks :D ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri omg i think so too 🥰

jemma.wren lina as linabell oh she's so cute <3333

2cami4lina serious question here, does he wear anything other than orange? ↳ cameliazzz @2cami4lina from when i've seen him? no

aidan_ebass Who won billiards? ↳ selinabui @aidan_ebass ur kidding right? don't you know how amazing i am? (kas did) ↳ 28kaslina24 @ selinabui kas was there? oooh osc*lina never beating the pr relationship allegations 🤭

oscarpiastri just posted to their story

TWITTER

pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 17h OSCAR PIASTRI WHAT THE HELL??? ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 17h i need to know what he said pls what did he say for her to react like that ↳ june @linafesting · 17h "mr piastri why are you wilding rn" HAD HER USING PROPER 'YOU'S??? ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 17h "Wdym 😇" he's sick for that now we all want to know what he meant

kayla @luna_apocolypse · 2d if my math is right... we could get lina supporting oscar in suzuka ↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 2d last tokyo show: friday, april 5th suzuka gp: friday, april 5th to sunday, april 7th first sk show: friday, april 12th BONUS: osc's birthday is april 6th 🥸

conNUH @chickenbirch · 39m idk what world im living in anymore ↳ conNUH @chickenbirch · 38m lina pls... he's just another pasty white guy i--

↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 18m oh shit im realising my 'im totes interested' face is lacking ↳ president linami @ linaminami · 16m AHHH??? ↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 1h HELP i didn't realise she was totally blanking out as kas was yapping ↳ june @linafesting · 1h she truly looks like she'd rather be anywhere else ↳ camilina gfs fr @ drummergf · 2h kaslina stans realising the new kaslina content is this 🤡 ↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 1h first pic is the exact same way i look at my brother (sheer 'stfu' energy)

BONUS : the unedited insta dm

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification

#f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x oc #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smau #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 smau #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 social media au

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crueisummer · 11 months

Text

𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝓒𝓛16

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

series summary: Kika and Pierre invite you to their engagement party where you meet her and Pierre’s friends from F1, specifically, a certain handsome Monegasque driver.

chapter summary: You and Charles stay up talking about your dreams, fears, insecurities, and things that haunt your mind when you're alone.

chapter warnings: vvv emotional, feminism (oh no! jk), derogatory remarks, swearing, mental health, mentions of death (herve, jules, tonio)

playlist: ♫ gorgeous ♪ delicate ♬ i think he knows ♡ you are in love

author's note: Part 2 means we're halfway there!! For this chapter, I focused on the delicate's chorus to show the more vulnerable and "human" side of the characters. I will add the other aspects of the song to the following chapters. I also wrote this in a different style but I hope u guys like it. <333 Lastly, thank you all so much for almost 500 likes on the first chapter. ·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·. screaming! crying!

word count: 3.5k

disclaimer: All characters and events in this story, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional.

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞

01:57 ━━━━●───── 03:52 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮

The light beamed into your eyes from the window, intensifying the pounding in your head and increasing your thirst. As you opened your eyes, you squinted against the brightness, gradually adjusting to the sudden flash. Sensing movement beside you, you turned around to find Charles sleeping shirtless beside you. Memories of the previous night flooded back, replaying in your mind.

Before leaving the party with Charles, you looked for Kika to inform her of your departure. Seeing Charles waiting for you near the elevator, phone in hand, she expressed concern with a worried expression. Charles had recently ended a three-year relationship, and his ex happened to be the best friend of his previous ex. Kika was well aware of Charles' red flags, as she knew you, her dear friend Y/N, were known for wholeheartedly loving and falling hard for others who often failed to appreciate you as you deserved.

“Please be careful,” She smiled at you to which you nodded. She watched as you approached Charles and he smiled upon seeing you. As you waved farewell to Kika, she softly whispers to herself, “with each other’s hearts.”

You and Charles found yourselves seated on the floor of your hotel room's living room, uncomfortable party clothes off, cozy hoodies on, and legs crossed, with a spread of chips, beer, and mini alcohol bottles laid out before you. During your conversation, you discovered your shared value of family, discussing the strong relationships you both had with your loved ones.

"Are you close to your mom?" It was a question you always asked the guys you were interested in. You believed that a man who had a good relationship with his mother would treat his partner with love and respect. Although it didn't always turn out to be true, you still posed the question.

"Yeah, the first thing I do when I return to Monaco is visit her. You know, she's the only one I trust to cut my hair?" Charles smiles warmly, reminiscing about his mom. "You see, she's a professional hairdresser. So, sometimes when she watches me on TV, she'll send me a text saying I need a haircut. I just reply with her flight details to come see me, and we laugh about it, but she still comes over. That's why I've never had a bad haircut!"

"That is adorable! How often does she visit and watch your races?" You ask, eager to know more about his mother.

"Well, not as often as I'd like, that's for sure. She usually accompanies Arthur to his races."

"Races? He races too?"

"Yeah, he competes in Formula 2. Sometimes the Formula 1 and 2 races coincide on the same weekends so I get to see them both." You're momentarily taken aback. Wow, they must be RICH rich!

"Formula 2? How many Formulas are there?!" You exaggerate.

"Just three, cheri," he chuckles. "You know, my dad used to race in Formula 3 back in the '90s."

"So, it runs in the family, huh? What does your dad do now?" You inquire, looking down and grabbing a chip. The room falls into an unexpected silence, and you glance up, noticing a soft and melancholic expression on his face.

"Well, actually, I lost my dad seven years ago," he replies, offering a tight-lipped smile.

"Oh, Charles! I’m sorry, I had no idea..." Shock overtakes you, and you instinctively cover your mouth with your hand. Is that why he’s only been talking about his mom and brothers the whole night?

He interrupts, "No, it's okay. I think I’m getting used to talking about it. You know, they always interview me about their deaths. Sometimes I feel like they don't truly respect them, or me, and they just want me to talk about them for views and content."

"Deaths?" You're taken aback, struggling to comprehend the weight of his words.

"Yeah, over the past seven years, I've lost three important people in my life. My dad, my godfather Jules, and one of my best friends, Tonio."

"Charles, I'm so sorry to hear that. How have you been coping?" Rising from the floor, you move closer to him, placing a comforting hand on his thigh.

"Sometimes I find myself spiraling into these depressive episodes where I just want to close off my heart. Because if you close your heart, no new people can enter, only to leave again." He looks away, his eyes welling up with tears. Your expression softens, and he musters a small smile in your direction. He continues, his voice filled with emotion, "I've tried it before, but I realized that it doesn't make anything easier. These days, I just choose to remember them for who they were, their lives, their dreams, and the sacrifices they made for me to be where I am today."

You were taken aback at Charles’ maturity. The mere thought of losing someone dear to your heart was overwhelming, and here he was, having experienced the loss of not just one, but three significant people in his life. You couldn't help but admire him for getting through his hardships and finding happiness in the time he shared with them. Especially since he uses it as motivation to be a better person.

As your conversation continued, you decided to shift to a lighter topic in an attempt to lift Charles' spirits. You shared stories of performing in numerous countries, while Charles recounted his experiences racing in Formula 1 events across the globe. You laughed at how unfamiliar you were with his sport, just as he was with your music.

He asks if you have your phone with you.

"Um, it's somewhere around here," you respond while searching for it. Eventually, you spot it on the kitchen counter. "Why?"

"Just open Apple Music or Spotify, whichever you prefer," he says with a mischievous grin as you sit back down in front of him. You nod and show him that Apple Music is open.

"Now search for my name," he instructs, and you type his name, discovering that he is listed as an 'artist'. There’s no way…

"Charles Leclerc Artist? How are you an artist?" you raise an eyebrow at him and glance back at your phone. You notice that he has released two songs in the past year.

He laughs at your confusion. "Well, Ms. Grammy singer, I also play the piano. I wrote these songs last year and finished them around the time of the Australian GP and the Miami GP, which is why they're named AUS23 and MIA23."

You're shocked, your mouth hanging open dramatically as you listen to the songs. Charles laughs at your reaction. You didn't think he could become any more attractive, and now he surprises you with this. Could he be the incarnation of your dream man?

"That's amazing! I guess I know who to call when I need help with a song," you wink at him, and he chuckles.

"No, no. You're at least 100 times better than me. I don't have as much talent as you do to write lyrics for the music," he praises you.

“Okay, since you know a bit about my art and making a song and all that, I, on the other hand, have no fucking idea about Formula 1. Like, why do you have to travel all around the world and race on different tracks? Is it like some kind of world tour?" You burst into laughter at your own humorous analogy, and Charles, who was as intoxicated as you, finding it amusing as well.

“Do you really want to understand it?” You nod at his question as he sits up straight and stretches his head and hands, “warming up” to explain.

"You see, every race weekend is different. Let’s say you do Plan A for this weekend, sometimes it works, and we get podium. But sometimes despite our best efforts, it doesn’t. So, after the race, we talk about what went right and what went wrong and then we make a new plan for the next race. Do you understand so far?”

You nod at him. Though a slight confusion still lingered in your mind, you couldn't help but be captivated by the passion radiating from his every word. The way his eyes sparkled, and his voice exuded genuine excitement revealed the depth of his love for his job. In that moment, you realized that this wasn't merely a profession to him; it was a true calling, a relentless pursuit of excellence that fueled his spirit.

"I still don’t understand. Maybe being there and watching it firsthand can help me. What do you think?" you playfully suggest, winking at Charles as you extend your legs onto his lap. He responds by grabbing your leg with his left hand and dramatically clutching his heart with his right, feigning a heart attack. "Oh, amour, the thought of you in red."

As your connection deepened, you both began to open up and share parts of yourselves that were usually kept hidden. You spoke honestly about your doubts, worries, and the overwhelming thoughts that haunted you when you were alone.

"Can I ask you something?" you inquire, looking up at him.

"Go ahead," he replies, grabbing a chip and taking a bite.

"Have you read about me? Like on the internet, in articles or magazines?"

"I see the headlines, but I don’t really read them, so let's just go with a 'no,'" he says, wiping the salt and dust from his hands. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I’m sure I already know your answer, but doesn't it bother you sometimes, the things they write about you?" you question, and he nods, encouraging you to continue. "It's just that they always make comments about my personal life, especially with the people I choose to be with."

"Yeah, well, those people's lives are so miserable that they have nothing better to do than try to ruin ours," he jokes, attempting to lighten the mood, and you find yourself laughing.

You glance down at your lap, your hands fidgeting as you gather your thoughts, when Charles interrupts, taking your hand. "Hey, I know it sucks, but I think it's something that comes with success. It bothers me too when they do that to me. Look, I won't pretend to fully understand what you're going through because I know I don't."

You look up at him, puzzled. "Do you remember earlier at the party when you arrived before me? When your car pulled up at the restaurant, they went crazy. Now, I've been in front of cameras since I was a kid, and I know a thing or two about paparazzi, but I've never seen fame like yours before. They were taking so many pictures of you that it didn't even look like flashes anymore, it’s like someone had switched on a blinding light for those few seconds you walked from your car to the door."

"I couldn't really see you because of the crowd, but when I heard them shouting your name, it just made sense. Don't tell the engaged couple, but I'm 100% sure you were the best thing at the party. " he winks at you. "But still, that doesn't make it okay. The reason they act like that is because they are taking advantage of your popularity. They think that getting a good picture of you, or a story, out of you or even something they made up, is big money.”

You’ve thought of this before, the way they treat you is different from other celebrities, but you hesitated to bring them up, fearing it would make you appear arrogant. It was a nice change to discuss about your life, popularity and the challenges that come with it, and to be met with Charles' honest and genuine response. You look back at the times you talked about this with a partner, and how they dismissed your concerns, labeling you as ungrateful, overreacting, or even a drama queen. The contrast in reactions causes you to appreciate Charles' maturity, understanding and support.

Despite your seemingly different lives, his centered around sports, yours with music, your personalities and passion for your respective crafts and families made you remarkably similar. With every word exchanged, the infatuation between you grew stronger.

So, at 4 am, while leaning against the balcony of your hotel room, a comfortable silence settled between you.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I’ve never experienced this before.” Charles says softly. “Staying up at this hour and talking about my life and the shit I go through to a girl I’ve only met for 8 hours now. It makes me feel like I want to tell you my whole life. It feels…” He trails off, a loss for words.

“I get what you mean. I never thought we would have a lot in common, especially since from the outside, it looks like we’re living different lives. But it looks like we're not so different after all.”

“Y/N, I know it’s too soon because we’ve only just met but I really want to get to know you better.” He faces you and draws himself closer. His green eyes pierce your Y/E/C eyes, he smiles genuinely at you.

As you gaze at him, your heartbeat quickens. You can’t tell if this is real life because you’re experiencing emotions you’ve never felt before. Here stands a guy who is caring, grounded, and by the way, absolutely gorgeous, and he is genuinely interested in getting to know you. Your thoughts waver back and forth, questioning whether this is okay. Is it cool that I’ve shared everything in my mind with him? Is it chill that he’s in my head?

Your mind and heart go into battle. Think! After all, you've only known this person for eight hours! Eight hours, Y/N! On the other hand, what if this is actually okay? Could this be the story of you meeting "the one"? Or your soulmate?

You tried to find a compromise.

Blushing, you gazed up at him and agreed, “I feel the same way. But can we take it slow? I never like to rush things, especially relationships.”

He nods and hugs you from behind. “Is this alright?”

You hummed and you both stayed there, watching the stars and the beautiful view of Florence.

You didn’t want the night to end, and you couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to him right now. So you tried to make up excuses for him to stay. “But, you know, it’s too dangerous to drive at this hour.”

“Cheri, there is no such as thing as a time that is too dangerous to drive.” He chuckles at your cuteness. “Plus, I’m a Formula One driver, I think I can handle myself.”

“No, you can’t because we just finished doing shots like three hours ago! And what if other drunk people are driving around too?”

Charles lightly laughs at your stubbornness. He knows you’re too prideful to just tell him to stay the night, especially after you both agreed to keep things slow. He sees you avoiding his gaze, so he addresses you, “Y/N.”

As you looked up, he smiled at you and gently holds your chin and locking eyes. "Je suis folle de toi.” he uttered.

Confused, you smiled in anticipation, knowing he had likely said something sweet. Seconds later, he translated himself, the proximity between your faces nearly undoing you. "I am crazy about you.”

...

Carefully locating your phone, you closed the bedroom door behind you. Retrieving two water bottles from the mini fridge in the kitchen, you settled on the couch in the living room of your hotel suite, resting your legs on the coffee table.

You check your messages and there were some from Kika, and your management team. Kika texted you and said to meet her for brunch at 11. Though, with a Monegasque driver in your bed, you don’t know when you can leave, so you move on to the other conversations, keeping in mind that you reply to her soon.

Your management team’s group chats were asking where you are and who you were hanging with. You read their earlier messages and saw that there are articles and pictures of you and Charles leaving the party last night. You open your Twitter account and see the two of you are trending. Of course, we are.

You scrolled through the tweets and some fans were happy, some were not, some just... don't have any opinion. And you prefer the latter. Reading the tweets of the fans was one thing, but the way the media and articles talked about you was different. It's like they didn't have respect you.

The articles get to you, Why is there so much scrutiny around my dating life? They called you a serial dater, manipulator, etc., even creating "warnings" about you for Charles; saying you're just gonna break his heart and write a song about him.

You furrow your brow, wondering why they single you out like this and why other women aren't subjected to the same level of scrutiny. It's frustrating because they never say these things about other people, especially men in the industry who engage in similar dating behaviors. Your male friends in the industry can date different people or even cheat and sing about it without raising any eyebrows. But when it comes to you, the accusations fly.

When they accuse you of "jumping" from one relationship to another, they label you a player or claim you cheated. If you choose to casually date without exclusivity, they call you a slut. It never ends. Where do they expect me to stand? When will it all just stop?

You start to question whether the people you want to be with have seen what has been written about you and if your reputation, which may be based on something fake, can affect the real connections you might make. You begin to ponder the significance of it all and how much weight a reputation actually carries.

It's unfair. Your personal life should be yours alone, and people should mind their own business. If this is the price you pay for sharing your music and being famous, you want no part of it anymore. It feels like they don't respect you as a human being.

Hot tears stream down your face as your thoughts consume you, overwhelming you completely. Seeking solace, you sink from the couch to the floor, resting your chin on your knees. It's a familiar position, offering some comfort when you're feeling low. The grounding sensation reminds you that you're still here.

Unbeknownst to you, Charles already woke up and was also reading messages from his team. He was about to greet you when he heard you sniffling. He slowly opens the door and sees you on the ground, knees to your chest, crying. Suddenly, he understands the pain you're going through. He felt awkward. He didn't know whether to comfort you or pretend to go back to bed.

But Charles can't resist the sight of your shattered state. He pushes the door open fully and gazes at you, broken and vulnerable. His heart shatters alongside yours. Slowly, he approaches and sits in front of you, taking in the magnitude of your pain. You're startled, having forgotten he was sleeping in the other room. You wonder if he knows what you're crying about, if he's seen the internet already, but the thought pushed back behind your head when a pair of warm, gentle hands cups your face, thumbs trying to wipe away your tears.

"What's wrong, mon ange?" he asks softly.

"Everything. The things they say about me... they're so mean. They're ruining my name, my reputation..." You manage to utter between sobs.

"Shh.. I know, cheri. But I don't care about what they write, alright? I want to know you. The real you." He comforts you. Running his hand up and down your arm as you find solace in his comforting embrace.

For the next ten minutes, you pour your heart out to him, releasing your pent-up emotions. When Charles senses that you had calmed down, he fetches the water bottle from the table and hands it to you. You finish it in one go.

"Feeling a little better now?" He offers, his considerate nature shining through. You smile and nod, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" he asks, showing his concern for your well-being. You shake your head for a no.

“Do you feel like going downstairs, or should we order room service?" Going for a walk would be refreshing, and it might help improve your mood, but given that you've just bared your soul to him, you don't feel like going out. More importantly, you remember that you'll encounter numerous people and potentially face unwanted attention when you're seen again with Charles.

"We? You don't have to stay here with me. I feel better already." You face him, pulling away from his embrace. You instantly regret it as you start to feel cold already, missing the warmth of his body against yours.

"And I'm not leaving until you feel your best again. So, restaurant or room service?" He asks again. God, he is even more hot when he's stern... and caring about my well-being, of course.

Considering your current state, you prefer the comfort of staying within the confined space of your room, cuddled up next to him. "Room service, please."

↠ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬

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lex-loudestwoman · 10 months

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The Whole Story

Before we begin, a disclaimer: I believe that Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss are in a romantic relationship together. I've come to this conclusion carefully by reading all the signs Taylor has given us through her lyrics, media presence, clothing & jewelry choices, marketing, visuals, and interviews. This is all a theory of what I think has gone down between Karlie and Taylor since 2013.

2013 & Earlier - The Beginning

VS Fashion Show 2013: The first official meeting of Karlie & Taylor was at the 2013 VS Fashion Show.

This may not have been their true first encounter (s/o @sophietv for her amazing work about this, she outlines all the times Kaylor interacted prior to the fashion show in 2013!).

According to a Teen Vogue interview in 2014, Taylor and Karlie were introduced to each other at the same time that Taylor met Emma Stone by Andrew Bevan of Teen Vogue. That was in 2008 at the Young Hollywood Awards.

After that first meeting in 2008, Taylor attended a number of fashion shows that Karlie walked in: Tommy Hilfiger Spring Show (9/16/2009); Rodarte Spring 2012 show in NYC (9/13/2011); Jean-Paul Gauthier in Paris (9/30/2012), Elie Saab Spring/Summer 2013 Show (10/3/2012).

Karlie & Taylor also both attended Roberto Cavalli's 40th Anniversary Party (9/30/2010) and the Met Gala in 2011. Teen Vogue included a quote from Karlie about the Met: "Taylor Swift. I was introduced to her at the Met Gala, and we joked about having a baking date!"

January 17th, 2012: The iconic Twitter interaction between Kaylor finally happens! Taylor's cover story with Vogue includes a quote about Karlie: "I love Karlie Kloss, I want to bake cookies with her!" Karlie tweets at her the same day the cover releases.

2013 Victoria's Secret Fashion Show

By the time the 2013 VS Show rolled around, I think they were already dating in some capacity, and the fashion show was a PR move. If Taylor & Karlie were going to become "close friends" in the public eye, they needed a high-profile, highly documented story about how they met to avoid questions about the nature of their close relationship.

Taylor performed I Knew You Were Trouble (Red) for the show, and she danced with Karlie on stage while 'snow' fell.

"So it goes, you two are dancing in a snow globe round and round." - You Are in Love, 1989

Karlie later revealed in an interview that she had gotten a dramatic haircut during a Vogue shoot just before the VS Fashion Show began. This haircut was a big deal- she changed her look completely without talking to anyone about it, and Vogue asked her to keep it a secret until the shoot dropped. So she showed the VS Fashion Show like "surprise! New hair!" which drew up quite a buzz. Taylor's hair was pretty blonde and long at the time, not fully bleached but certainly lightened up in comparison to her natural hair color.

"flashback when you met me, your buzz cut & my hair bleached" - Dress, reputation

Karlie posted a ton of pictures from this event (most of which were of her and Taylor) on her Instagram. She also starts posting really sappy Instagram posts about being in love.

I think that the November 14th, 2013 post about receiving your favorite flowers from the person you love is about Taylor Swift, but who's to say!

Then, on Friday, December 13th, 2013 (Taylor's 21st birthday, which I think she references in an interview sometime when she's talking about why she loves the number 13) Karlie posts two sugarplum fairy-related photos, capturing the scene in The Nutcracker where snow falls from the sky as delicate performers dressed in white dance along the stage. This is super Taylor-coded, giving YAIL, dancing in the damn snowglobe again.

Interesting caption there, Kar. "#flashbackfriday to the good old days as a sugarplum fairy myself (aka the day I peaked)"

On December 14th, Karlie posts a solo shot on instagram and tags Josh with photo credit (this is hilarious that we let them just tell us whoever took their picture with absolutely no questioning whether they might be lying???). For some reason, I get the feeling that Taylor took this photo for Karlie the morning after her birthday when they were still together from celebrating the night before.

2014 - You're My Best Friend

Taylor buys her massive Tribeca, NY Penthouse apartment in April 2014. The home was actually TWO penthouse apartments next door to each other, and then she bought a third townhouse unit next door in 2017, and in 2018 she bought an additional 3-bedroom unit in the same building. Go off NYC Real Estate Queen! Taylor moved into her iconic Cornelia Street apartment during a round of renovations at her Tribeca home in 2016.

Big Sur Trip

VS Fashion Show 2014

Vogue Cover

BEST Best Friends

1989 - October 27, 2014

"The inspiration that I found in that [New York] city is kind of hard to describe and hard to compare to any other force of inspiration I've ever experienced in my life." - Taylor Swift, discussing the importance of NYC in an interview with ABC News given on 10/20/2014 ahead of a 1989 promo single release for Welcome to New York (1989). That quote actually reminds me of a lyric from 1989: you understand now why they lost their minds & fought the wars, and why I've spent my whole life trying to put it into words (You Are in Love, 1989).

2015 - Hiding in Plain Sight

1989 era so many public appearances blah blah blah they were girlfriends in public kissgate gay whatever, everyone agrees that Karlie & Taylor were dating in 2015 during 1989 World Tour etc

2016 - Beards or Bust

Politics and Jared Kushner

The unfortunate reality of 2016 was that Donald Trump really did get elected president, and then he really did take office and become the President of the United States from January 2017 - January 2021. (Sadly, none of it was a nightmare or even a collective hallucination, all of this actually happened in the good old U.S. of A., yeehaw!!) The sociopolitical climate in the US is charged, fraught, uncertain, and divided. Even worse for Taylor & Karlie is their closeness to Jared Kushner, Josh's older brother who is married to Ivanka Trump. Jared served as a senior advisor to Donnie Boy for his entire term, and he did such a good job being Don's accomplice in negligent, ethnocentric, homophobic, misogynistic leadership from the White House that he was made the Director of the Office of American Innovation (this entire office was created by Trump in March 2017 and dissolved by Biden in January 2021).

I think (and this is JUST speculating, I have no real evidence compiled yet to back this up, but I'll look for it eventually) Jared Kushner & Ivanka Trump are also in a queer-bearding relationship contract. I'm not going too far into it now, but there's stuff out there for both Jared and Ivanka, like former Trump staffer Noel Casler's allegations that Jared is gay and in an "arranged marriage" with Ivanka, who doesn't care about his sexuality due to her own sexual opportunism and likely queer identity.

If Jared and Ivanka really are queer and in a non-monogamous, mutually beneficial public relationship that allows them to co-parent their three children, then their involvement in the Trump administration makes things pretty damn unsafe if they ever were found out. So, I think that when Trump was elected, the entire Kushner family had to be super locked down to keep both Jared & Ivanka AND Josh & Karlie (and Mikey and Taylor) safe from any unwanted allegations.

Since the Kushner and Hess families hold international influence, wealth, and power, if all these billionaire men were suddenly outed as gay there could be serious economic and political consequences across the globe.

Not so coincidentally, Karlie and Taylor's last public event together was Lorde's birthday on Monday, November 7th, 2016. The 2016 Presidential Election took place on Tuesday, November 8th, 2016, which sealed the fate of the Kushner name to be attached to Donald Trump's Presidency. I believe that if Trump had not won (which no one expected him to do) Karlie & Taylor would not have started this Love Blackout.

This photo is the end of Kaylor's public friendship, and the start of their Love Blackout (shout out to @sophietv again for being the BEST!!)

Joe Alwyn - A Perfectly Palatable Person

I'm sure when the team realized Trump might actually win the election, they started looking for an acceptable beard. Joe really was a great choice for Taylor's life: he had features similar to Karlie's (light eyes, tall, blonde hair), he didn't have much going on with his own reputation, he had a sparkling clean dating history - because Taylor was his first ever girlfriend, he was a fellow artist and was already media trained, and he was gay, too!

Met at the Met - May 2016

red herring lyric (tied to VS 2013 show)

First Reports - May 16, 2017

The Sun broke the news of Taylor Swift and Joe Alwyn dating on May 16, 2017. According to Tree Paine a source, they had been secretly dating for months. It's later assumed that they started dating a few months before January 1, 2017, (revealed in a Lover journal released in 2019). Some sleuthing swifties connect a lyrical swap in the acoustic cover of "September" by Earth, Wind, and Fire as performed by our girl Taylor (Friday, April 13, 2018) to the diary entry and determine their anniversary was probably September 28, 2016.

Supportive Boyfriend Award? - December 8, 2017

Joe does something of heroic power. He goes to a concert with his popstar girlfriend. He apparently attended Taylor's performance in the iHeartRadio JingleBall in NYC and "stayed for the whole show and they later left together as well." lmao wut, okay, lots of people stayed for the whole show, this is such a boring relationship roll out, especially for Miss Extra!! (lovingly)

Toe is Officially Official - May 8th, 2018

Joe finally takes his instagram off private mode and posts a picture of himself, alone, next to a big cactus. Taylor also posts a picture of herself, alone, near the same big cactus. Alright, I guess that *technically* counts as giving the public some confirmation that you two know each other, but I bet Tree was mad as hell when that was their "official instagram announcement."

Then, Joe joins Taylor at the opening night of the Reputation Stadium tour in Glendale, AZ. He wore a baseball cap low to cover his face and "stay incognito" (Joe, babe, no one knows who you are...but like okay i guess, be weird about your fame that you literally wanted and signed up for). But during the song Gorgeous apparently Taylor pointed at Joe in the VIP tent, while he proudly filmed her.

Taylor travels around the country for the Reputation Stadium Tour from May-November 2018. The Rep tour is SO, SO GAY, like Jesus Christ Lesbian Jesus save us from all the rainbow and bisexual flagging!! Check my twitter thread for a full analysis of how gay the Dress performance is.

Reputation Promo:

Taylor Swift socials

Karlie Kloss socials

Reputation, The Album

Reputation was released on November 10, 2017.I consider Reputation to be Taylor & Karlie's "I'm so in love that I might stop breathing" album. This is the honeymoon, this is the up all night, can't stop, won't stop, I need you more than air kind of love.

This album is all about the pining and desperately waiting, hiding their anticipation, hands shaking from holding back from touching each other where anyone might see them. Much like Taylor's own media presence & public interactions in the Reputation era, Kaylor had gone dark, nobody heard from them for months, but they're doing better than they ever were.

2018 - Desperate Measures

The honeymoon phase ends in 2018 as shit in America gets worse for queer folks. The sociopolitical climate is getting more dangerous now, and Trump's constant attacks on LGBTQIA+ rights & safety is making matters much worse. Jared Kushner & Ivanka Trump are in the media a lot now, which means all eyes are on Josh, too.

Toe is Officially Official - May 8, 2018

youtube

Instead of hosting her usual big 4th of July Party at the Holiday House in RI, Toe goes on vacation to Turks & Caicos to celebrate the holiday. They call Backgrid to take a few pictures of them "frolicking" at the beach together. I'm so convinced, they're in LOVE!! Can't get enough of each other!! They totally hold hands all the time, this feels so natural and not weird at all!

Karlie posts a few photos in a row about the 4th of July this year. First, she's in her Anti-Hero colored pajamas with her left eye closed in a wink, sitting on a few suitcases, captioned "Kissin Paris Goodbye. *kissy face emoji*"

Then, another post on the 4th itself is of a WMAG stylized photoshoot where Karlie is a cowboy, for the Wild West with Cowboy Karlie campaign. It's captioned "Going into the 4th like *cowboy emoji* @/wmag" EXCUSE ME. "You're a cowboy like me, perched in the dark, telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear like it could be love I could be the way forward only if they pay for it"

The implications of a Cowboy Like Me reference and this photo's timing has on their engagement story has me dead. I'll do a whole lyrical analysis and tie in of it soon.

And then she posts this pic of her swimming in an unidentifiable body of water. Could it be Turks & Caicos? Maybe!

Joshlie announces their engagement on July 24, 2018 while the two are on a vacation in XYZ? People Magazine reports that the proposal "took place a few weeks ago during a romantic weekend together in upstate New York." So they got engaged sometime in the beginning of July, right?

On July 10th, she posts a video of herself voguing down the runway with "This Kiki is Marvelous" playing in the background during Paris Fashion Week in September 2013. Her performance was considered one of the highlights of Paris Fashion Week. She captioned the video: Mood. @/jpgaultierofficial.

Quick question for Karlie, why do you feel the same way you felt before you went on stage for a make or break performance out of your comfort zone? You performed incredibly but it could have easily turned out very differently. Why would you be feeling like that right around the time of your engagement to Josh Kushner?

youtube

Karlie's instagram post on July 16, 2018 captioned "bestest of weekends with my bestest of friends" included group photos and a video of her & four girlfriends from her childhood.

So she got engaged and then spent a weekend with her friends, who then commented on instagram pictures from the weekend saying "remember, there's nothing better than old friends!" Why the heck are they talking about friends so much!? She literally just got engaged to Jo- ohhh.... Oh, right, he's gay, and she's gay. Old friends. Ahhhh.

Taylor responds to the engagement news breaking by having special guest, Haley Kiyoko aka Lesbian Jesus, join her for the Rep show at Gillette Stadium on July 27, 2018. Taylor specifically requests to sing Curious with Haley, which is a song about a lesbian woman singing to her ex-lover who is now dating a man, asking her ex if she lets him touch her the way she used to. So gay, so timely, Taylor is a petty bitch & I love her.

Do the girls back home touch you like I do? Delicate (Reputation)

The Wedding, October 18, 2018

Karlie wears her custom Dior gown and very amicably marries Joshua in someone's backyard, it looks like. Things seem perfectly pleasant, almost like watching a wedding scene featuring two actors with no sexual chemistry whatsoever.

2019 - Every Time I Don't, I Almost Do

Lover Promo is all very gay, very loud, very comingoutlor.

ME! out now! on Lesbian visibility day, April 26, 2019.

YNTCD music video out on June 16, 2019.

The Wedding, Part Two: Cowboy Karlie and Her Cowboy, Her Man

Karlie Kloss and Joshua Kushner celebrate their wedding again with a private group of friends from June 20-23rd, 2019 in Wyoming. It's cowboy themed, for whatever reason.

This wedding into a honeymoon in Africa would have been a wonderful strategy to keep the spotlight off of Karlie in Taylor Swift's immediately impending plan to come out on June 30th, 2019. Go read @sophietv's incredible post that details the failed coming out (fuck Scooter Braun).

2020: The Great War

January:

February: Karlie is in Paris, Taylor is advertising The Man MV (out February 27).

March: Quarantine begins March 16th & Taylor starts writing folklore almost immediately, which means that the events in folklore have already happened before COVID begins.