#i don’t think anything will feel as nostalgic
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What are your favorite royal wedding looks and flowers
I answered a lot of these in the other ask so I'm going to use yours to do a deeper dive into most of the Millennial royal weddings. You want opinions, you're getting opinions today!
Quick aside: I mainly follow only the British royals. I pay some attention to the other European royal families and a little bit of attention to the Jordanian Royal Family. So that’s what this commentary will focus on. Because I don’t follow the Middle Eastern, Asian, or African royals (and subsequently don’t know much about them), I don't feel it's appropriate for me to give commentary on their wedding looks/styles when I don't know who they are. Obviously, as you'll see, my favorites are the BRF so the commentary does skew heavily towards them.
Adding this halfway through: This is a really text-heavy post so I'm going to break up the rambling with my favorite photo from each wedding.
Crown Princess Victoria, June 2010
The Cameo Tiara is my favorite. It paired very nicely with the heirloom veil. Loved that she went for off-the-shoulder short sleeves. Not really a fan of how the train attached at her waist (vs being all one dress), but it really worked for her.
Kate, April 2011
I loved how timeless her whole look was. If you take everything out of the picture and just look at her and the dress, it's magnificent. It works in black and white 1950s vintage. It works in the modern fashion era. It works for her as the individual girl she was at that time. It works for the future she's growing into.
Not a fan of the hairstyle and the tiara. It was a complete miss for me. She should've gone full updo or full Chelsea blowout instead of the halfway compromise. The tiara, meh. Didn't really add anything to me. After seeing the floral headpiece she commissioned for the coronation, I would have loved to see what she'd have done for the wedding since a floral headpiece is what she originally wanted to wear. I also thought her hair was a smidge too dark, but maybe that's the contrast with all of the ivory around her. I much prefer the golden/bronzey highlights she has now and I think it would've helped the contrast better.
Thought the flower girl dresses were a tad too long and that her bouquet was out of place. It needed to be more substantial for such a formal occasion. Either more flowers/bigger shape or bigger blooms.
Something about Hugo Burnand's work always throws me off. I think it's the scale and the perspective he uses; the subjects are too far away from the camera that their backgrounds seem to swallow them up. Didn't like most of their wedding portraits because of that. They kinda ended up looking like cardboard cutout versions of themselves.
Overall, a perfect day. It was nostalgic without being maudlin. Modern without being trendy. Celebratory without being excessive. Traditional without being stodgy.
Charlene, July 2011
I like her dress. Reminds me a lot of Crown Princess Victoria's, but with a lovely embroidery detailing.
I don't really have a lot to say about the Monaco wedding. It looked like a lovely occasion. The dress is fine. The veil is fine. The photos are fine, but Charlene looks like she'd rather be anywhere but there marrying Albert (and the rumors that have come out since about the wedding makes me side-eye a whole lot).
Stephanie, October 2012
Very pretty dress, very pretty veil, very pretty look. Not really very memorable for me. A lot of the gorgeous detailing in her dress gets lost in most of the photos; the close-up photos of her dress are gorgeous and I wish there were more.
I do really like her bridal bouquet; that's what I expected from Kate.
Her tiara got lost in the look and her veil not being closer to the tiara makes sense (since the tiara really would have gotten lost) but I think we've come to expect royal brides wearing their veils and tiaras together so this is something different. I do, however, really like how the veil flows in this picture.
Princess Madeleine, June 2013
I don't mind that it's a lace dress. I cannot with the dust ruffle hem. This photo just killed the whole look for me, but this one (above) and this one redeem it to where I can pretend the dust ruffle doesn't exist.
The neckline also had its issues. It went rogue at one point during the wedding and ended up giving her a 1980s-one shoulder style look.
Her hair was very Swedish (they do like their big buns). Her veil was gorgeous too, tying with Beatrice for second. I prefer the way Madeleine styled her veil over how Victoria styled hers.
Madeleine has my favorite makeup look; dramatic eye with a nice pink lip.
Sofia, June 2015
My feeling is that this isn't the dress Sofia would have chosen for herself. I think she went more demure and modest because of her controversial background but she's had a lot of fantastic style choices otherwise. Something about the cut of her dress reads maternity to me - the skirt seems like it starts too high in the bodice.
She has the traditional big Swedish bun, but it's quite a slicked back/severe look for her. I think with the wide open neck in her dress, a softer, looser hairstyle would have made it work better. I do feel like her earrings needed to be bigger with the open neckline, or at least should have had emeralds to match the tiara. (This may be my least favorite tiara styling -- a little too "on top" of her head, not very integrated into the hairstyle so it looks kinda like an afterthought.)
Loved the colorful flowers she chose. Her wedding colors were my favorite before Eugenie came along.
Pippa, May 2017
I know, I know. Pippa's not royal and it wasn't a royal wedding, but it had a big royal turnout so it counts!
THIS is how you do a lace wedding gown without it looking like Granny's tablecloth or Miss Haversham (yeah, I'm looking at you, Kitty Spencer). THIS is how you do a classic English country garden wedding. The way she decorated the exterior of the church was a dream.
Her headpiece was invisible and added nothing. I get why she chose the piece she did, but come on. Hugely missed opportunity to get a major piece from her new husband or to pay homage to Carole in something like this (which I realize is Kate's coronation headpiece) or like this.
The matron of honor/children's minder was perfection. The flower girls were perfection.
Meghan, May 2018
I'm glad Prince Philip was able to attend. I feel like he attended more to support The Queen than out of joy for the couple. I kinda wished Zara would have gone into labor during the service.
Everything was just so darkly lit, even the bridal portraits too.
(Edit: Let me know if you're curious about why I like this picture for their wedding.)
Princess Eugenie, October 2018
Her floral design and colors were my absolute favorite. She wins, hands down, bar none. I loved the moody dark florals and loved how she embraced the autumnal vibes by making the chapel feel warm and inviting.
I thought the sleeves of her bridal gown were too long and too big, and felt oversized. They needed to have been more tailored, like Kate's were.
Eugenie's wedding portraits are my favorite. The scale and perspective was pleasing and the simpler white background of the Windsor room made the people pop.
Overall, it was a very princessy wedding. Very well done.
Lady Gabriella, May 2019
Her veil is my favorite. I like the fuller veil style, but it almost seemed too full because the details of her tiara was lost in all the tulle.
I love the story that she had originally planned for a pink/blush gown but changed it to white when she learned The Queen wanted to attend; that says a lot about her character and respect for tradition.
Bridesmaid dresses were a tad long. For some reason, her Hugo Burnand portraits don't bother me as much as Kate's do. LOVE that she got to do some portraits outdoors, and her outdoors portraits are so quintessentially England. I kinda wish Kate had had that opportunity given how meaningful the outdoors are for her.
So sad about her husband. Sending her all the strength, especially with their anniversary coming up.
Princess Beatrice, July 2020
I loved that she went for sentimentality above all else. She really made the best out of a terrible situation. Their wedding photos make it seem like she (and Edo) are the sort of people who prioritize the marriage over the wedding so I sense they don't mind all the changes too much.
Loved her simple make-up and her grandmother's dress. Loved the veil too. The hair felt undone; this hairstyle would have polished the look nicely.
Princess Iman, March 2023
Iman squeaks into this review by 3 months. She is the youngest millennial royal bride.
I love how soft and golden her portraits are. She ties with Gabriella's outside portraits for the #2 spot for me.
Her look was simple, and I feel this is romantic minimalism done correctly. The drape of her skirt reminds me a lot of Sarah Chatto's, a soft delicate look that's unusual for most royal brides (who tend to go with stiffer, heavier fabric for the formality). It works really well.
The tendrils are a little much and too loose for me; I'd rank her use of tendrils #2 between Eugenie (#1) and Meghan (#3).
Rajwa, June 2023
I appreciate that she went for a look befitting her own individual personality but it was a choice. Her bridal look is a case of "too much pageant fashion, not enough wedding" for me. The draping was strange, the fit of the skirt versus the train seemed like she was wearing pants with a huge overskirt behind her. But the dress "sits" very nicely and I suspect since the Jordanians do most of their weddings sitting (like above), the overskirt style may have been an intentional choice for the photos.
Veil was nice. Bouquet was too small. Not a fa of the earrings. I do think her tiara is a little too far back on her head.
Many congratulations to them for the new baby.
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nothing quite like being on the bsd side of tumblr june 2021 - december 2021 </3
#ᥫ᭡ °. ⊹ thinking out loud#i don’t think anything will feel as nostalgic#i miss that era#when we were alive#so many mutuals from that time are gone now#i don’t think they’ll ever see this but i hope y’all are doing well <3#indigo rye shrimp i miss yall sm
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Listening to togetherness 1 and thinking about them
#makes me feel happy I’m a sad way#I miss them a lot#can’t believe it’s been two years since little nightmares 2#mono little nightmares#little nightmares six#my art#this soundtrack is so special to me so so special#idk bro I think I need to go to sleep I’m getting sentimental#sketch#little nightmares ii#I remember sitting in my friends basement and watching them freak out over the manikin section#so funny cause they don’t get scared of anything#good memories#weird how fear can be nostalgic
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what're ur go to songs to listen to when u wanna be productive?
you’re making bold assumptions about me ever being productive
#there’s a reason i haven’t slept before 6 this entire term#i don’t think anything rly makes me feel super productive i just delude myself into thinking playing music will get me in a groove to work#i kinda shuffle between nostalgic pop mellow rap and tamil songs#asks#anon
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you know, i’ve never felt romantic attraction, not once in my life…….besides this one instance with this one guy when i was seven. i wanted to marry him and everything, everyone knew it, there was even a goddamn collage board i made, but yeah whatever i was a kid. that crush lasted me about four years and it lingered a little past that since we were always in each other’s orbit because our families were close.
i haven’t seen him in almost eight years….and yet i’ve been having recurring dreams about him lately where i actually feel those intense romantic feelings everyone else talks about. i’ll wake up and i’ll…miss him?? i’ll reminisce about what could’ve been??
we were seven.
#❣️#every time i think about him i think about ‘oh this could be like childhood friends to lovers’ but it’s not#we weren’t like best friends or anything or really close i just thought he was cute!!#in fact i was much closer to his sisters than anyone else#he just always liked to tease me and make me blush bc it was obvious i had a crush on him#and yeah apparently he liked me back but didn’t say anything about it#which makes me a little bitter but who knows?? we were SEVEN#but we did see each other a lot even as we were growing up#so like by the time we both reached high school age i would feel a little nostalgic but i don’t think he thinks about it as deeply as i do#knowing i was his first crush does make me feel cool though i have to admit :’)#but yes!! what the fuck is up with my brain making me reminisce like this??#personal
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Hello dearie!!
How are you? I hope you're doing well!
I saw that your asks were open,and your content is really cool and silly,So I decided to leave you a nice ask to enjoy!
Could I have a headcanon platonic! Alastor,Vox and Husk finding a random child next to their dead mother, except that they don't really understand that she's dead and think she's sleeping,so they pity the child and take them in?
The child is really polite and nice,pretty calm,too. Sure,they do child stuff,like running around,being excited,etc,but they still are more calm than others.
They always talk about their mother,how she's the only one left,and how they love her.
Would the characters say the truth? Would they lie?
I just love hurt/comfort and platonic relationships so :3
Anyways,I hope that's not too much,and that you enjoy writing this!
Have a really nice day,don't forget to drink and take breaks!
Stay proud!
-Nina <33
A/N: Thank you for the reminders, heh. Btw, I’m going to have to change the reasons as to why they took you in because I just don’t see characters like Alastor and Vox taking you in because of pity. Sorry about that. The rest is untouched. You’ll still get a bit of that hurt/comfort (mostly from Husk, lol. Both Alastor and Vox are non-existent, but Alastor is somehow better than Vox).
Warnings: Mentions of death
———
Alastor, Husk, and Vox adopting a deceased mom’s child
Alastor
• Alastor paid no mind to the dead corpse
• it didn’t really look that appetizing anyway
• “How unfortunate.” You heard a weird voice from behind you as a hand was placed on your shoulder. “A child mourning in the demise of its mother. Tragic, really. You have my condolences.”
• “What are you talking about, mister?” You stared up at the mysterious man, watching his eyes flick from your left to right eye while his grin only grew as the seconds went by
• “I think you’ve just found yourself the perfect dwelling,” he abruptly said, letting go of your shoulder to fix his bowtie as he sprung back to life. “Why don’t you come with me?”
• “But what about my mother?”
• “She is in good hands, I can assure you.” He offered his hand to you. “Come along, now. Children shouldn’t dwell long in places like these.”
• and so he took you in to be a patron at his hotel
• I mean, what’s more easier to redeem than a child? (assuming you’re a sinner. I don’t know if it’s canon anymore that only hellborns can reproduce. Look at Cannibal Town’s people)
• he intended to leave you in the rest of the residents’ care while they could only guess what his actual motivation was for taking you in
• but it seemed you ended up favoring him more than the rest
• you’d follow him around like a duckling—a lost puppy—you’re attached to him like a leech
• and you’re so well-behaved, too
• up until he leaves your sight
• he actually leaves the hotel a lot more often now because of that
• he finds you wrecking chaos in the hotel entertaining as hell
• and the fact that the others beg him to come back to calm you down
• I don’t think you would ever know what happened to your mother
• even when you talk about her a lot
• those rambles never really prompt him to say anything
• well, it’s not as if he knew what happened to her
• but, hey, at least he listens!
• maybe it’s because he feels a little nostalgic hearing the way you talk about her…
———
Husk
• Husk was fucking spooked when he found you lying beside your dead mother
• not because of the corpse, but because of the way you were staring at him
• with eyes dull and wide open, just like your mother
• while Husk wouldn’t have given two shits if it was a grown-ass adult, you were a child
• so he took you in
• “But what about my mother?”
• “Shi—I, uh—your momma will tag along soon. Now c’mon. She wouldn’t want you out here alone.”
• since Husk is constantly around the hotel, there were never really instances where you wreaked havoc
• you just silently watch him tend the bar and sometimes talk about your mother
• your talks about how much you love her make him feel pretty guilty for some reason
• but he’d probably tell you when you’re older enough
• only if you were asking him about her though
• he wouldn’t want to have to sit you down and tell you something that sensitive of a topic when you didn’t even ask
• “Why don’t I have a mother?” you would suddenly ask when you turned 18
• today was your birthday. Charlie insisted on having a little party for you just like every year. But you didn’t want one; you wanted to be with Husk for the day
• the man in question sighed
• he knew you were building up the courage to ask all day
• “I’m gonna give it to you straight, kid, I don’t know what exactly happened to her. All I know is that she’s in a better place.”
• “Oh…”
• “Do you…wanna talk about it?” He continued, voice a little unsure, “Not as a bartender…but as a dad.”
• you smiled, grateful. “I think I’ve already said plenty when I was younger. But thanks, Dad.”
• he smiled back
• you two would then sit in silence together, basking in each other’s presence
———
Vox
• so, uh, I’m going to have to completely skip the taking you in part with Vox because I genuinely cannot see him adopting a random child (unless he could gain something, but, like, you’re just a kid)
• so you’ll just get the aftermath of it (hope that’s okay)
• based on the way he handled Val’s tantrum, I think it’s safe to assume that he’s somewhat good with children
• but he’s a pretty busy guy
• he doesn’t have the time to take care of a random child, so he’d make sure to keep an eye on you on his cameras
• but despite that, your existence in the tower warrants his
• as you’re too chaotic whenever he isn’t around
• but only around the other expendable employees
• you’re relatively well-behaved when Velvette and Valentino are with you
• but he doesn’t exactly trust them to take care of you
• they aren’t exactly good with children
• so he tried doing video calls
• you will definitely grow up as an iPad kid
• he’d hear you talk about your mom during those calls
• he’d let you go on and on, but it’s not guaranteed that he’ll listen
• I don’t think he would ever tell you what happened to her (he doesn’t know, anyway)
• he won’t lie, he’d just work around your question
• skillfully
• like, extremely so
• even if you ask him directly, he still manages to dodge the question somehow
• I don’t know what else to say, he’s gonna be a pretty distant father—
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#husk x reader#vox x reader#child!reader#child reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel vox#kinopiowrites
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Do you think we are about to make a terrible mistake? | Zhong Chenle
pairing: chenle x f.reader
genre: besties to lovers | smut +18 MDNI
summary: chenle has been away for a while and you miss your best friend-- however, everything changes when you realise you might actually love him more than a friend
wc: 2.2k
warnings: mentions and use of alcohol, anxiety, consensual sex, unprotected sex (pls no), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms-- lmk if I forgot anything
It’s 15 minutes past 11, where the fuck is he?
You already texted him twice. You called. The party had already started and your friends wondered if you would make it. Hell, you were wondering if you should just go on your own. But no– you promised you would get there together for old-time’s sake. It’s been a little over a year since Chenle moved out of the country, your days of embracing nothingness together are gone, movie nights are just nostalgic memories, and maybe some words left unspoken. You missed your best friend dearly and even though you often called each other, it was not the same. Not at all. You missed more than his company. You missed his essence, aura, sparkly eyes, smile, and touch…
Your heart suddenly ached. Were you truly in love or is it just the fact that this is the first time you will see him since he left? The thoughts that rudely invade your brain get interrupted by three loud knocks. Running to the door, you can feel the thundering beating of your heart ringing in your ears.
“I know I’m late, I’m sorry…. Please don’t be upset–”
You open the door abruptly and there he is.
Zhong Chenle.
Blue 3-piece suit. His hair graciously falls over his forehead, framing his beautiful face. He gives you the brightest of smiles, your heart skips a bit.
“Don’t hate me. Come here!” he opens his arms to embrace you.
“Shut up,” you throw your arms around him, and suddenly everything is fine. Time has not passed.
His nose lowers to your head and he inhales your scent. This is home to him, he can’t believe he’s been away from you for so long. All he yearns is to keep you close, but doing so means having to accept the fact that he is irremediably in love with you.
Smoke and bright lights danced around the place and the crowd made way for you and the man of the hour apparently. Everyone reaches out to Chenle. Hugs, high fives, praises, and kisses shower him. You can’t help but feel a tad bit jealous. This was supposed to be a fun night for you and your best friend… and your other friends as well. But Chenle is loved, popular, and missed, of course, people would be all over him. You feel silly for suggesting going to the party in the first place.
You’re snapped back to reality when your body crashes into Chenle’s. His hand is possessively placed around your waist. Your audible gasp makes him laugh.
“Where did your mind go, silly?”
“Nowhere, I just wish we were somewhere else. This is not how I envisioned tonight, you know… after spending so much time apart,” you force a smile and feel his thumb caressing you softly. There was something up with him, but to your surprise, you couldn’t read him.
Chenle closes the distance between you too. He's a little too close, his breath fanning on your face. Is he going to–
“Chenle!”
Shiny hair, plump lips, white smile. Her manicured hand was already snaking its way to Chenle’s arm. She looks at you, scanning up and down as if she were trying to figure out who you are.
“Oh, hey! Wh- what are you doing here?” Chenle replies. A kiss on her cheek makes your heart sink.
Chenle’s eyes go from you to the girl and again to you. He is about to introduce you but you suddenly feel like your heart is going to burst out your chest, your palms are sweaty, your eyes getting watery and your ability to breathe fades as you try to fight the feeling.
“I really need to go. Sorry– Nice to meet you,” you say politely. You try not to cry as you make your way out. Chenle watches as you leave, but he feels how his chest tightens more and more with each step you take away from him.
After his third call, you get into the shower hoping that the pain would fade away with the hot water hitting your vulnerable skin. With tears streaming down your face and sobs that echo around your bathroom you finish your shower. You are too exhausted to do anything else but sleep, and your phone has long been forgotten in your purse.
You think you just blinked but in reality, it is a little past 3 a.m. and the faintest sound coming from your door seems to wake you up. In a panic, you rush and open the door to find a sobering Chenle by your door.
“...it was about fucking time you opened that door, silly, I’ve been knocking for hours I thought–”
You cut him off, pulling him in.
“Chenle what the fuck?”
He smiles at your puzzled expression. His hair is a bit messy now, blue suit is wrinkled. You can’t help but wonder if anything happened with the girl in the club.
“I’ve been waiting for hours… I followed you back here but you locked the door. I called you so many times… ” he frowns.
You go to the kitchen and fetch him a water bottle. As he starts drinking it, you find his eyes searching yours… Sparks. No. No. This is your best friend Chenle. Nothing can ever happen between you and your best friend. The one who taught you how to ride a bike, tie your shoelaces, and give the best hugs ever.
“You look so pretty,” he finally says.
“Drink your water, Chenle,” you sigh.
“You do!” he insists.
“Who has she?” and you can’t believe the words that leave your mouth. You weren’t supposed to ask.
“We did a semester together abroad. She is a good classmate that’s all. I never meant to upset you– you are too important…”
You weren’t sure where the conversation was going, but Chenle assumed he talked too much. He puts the water bottle down and makes his way to you. Now you find yourself between your best friend and your bedroom door. The hard wooden surface against your back reminds you that once you cross that threshold with him, your relationship will change forever.
His hands touch your waist, not sure if he has permission to do so, but you welcome him as the drug you need. His lips inches from yours and you pray he will kiss you, but time stops. It’s really only you and him at last like you dreamt of so many restless nights.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you something since the moment I came back…”
“Yes?” your voice comes out as a breathless whisper.
“Can I kiss you?”
You can’t even wait to answer him when your lips are already on his. His tongue teases yours and your lips part. He tastes of expensive wine, lust, and love. Chenle moans into your mouth and that is it for you. You want every single inch of you to be consumed by him. You reach out to open the door to your room.
“Please,” you ask.
“How can I say no to you?” he smiles and kisses you once again.
Each second you spend kissing him you feel your skin getting hotter, desire coursing through your veins making you dizzy, and then you feel him carry you. Bride style, his lips never leaving yours. He carefully lowers you onto the bed, his hands now exploring your clothed body, the feeling of sparks under his fingertips making the moment intense, and urgent. Little moans and cries escape you both as Chenle helps you to straddle him. Your delicate fingers move his hair away from his face. The most beautiful man is underneath you, eyes on yours, lips parted. His chest rises and falls, you contemplate him for a moment. He takes your hands into his, everything seems surreal, you have spent countless times in this bedroom but not like this—a new territory.
“Do you think we are about to make a terrible mistake?” your voice is small, you may not want to know what he has to say.
He shakes his head. His hand reaches your cheek.
“Do you?”
Now you shake your head.
“Good. Then kiss me, silly, and don’t stop unless you don’t want to do this–” but you don’t let him finish his thought and your lips already found his.
It is then that you finally understand that he needs you as much as you need him. The pieces of clothing now are forgotten somewhere on your bedroom floor. Every part of you reacting to Chenle’s heavenly but sinful touch. His fingers finally take the only item of clothing left, your panties. He lowers himself, eye level with your wet cunt.
“So pretty,” he murmurs.
His tongue licks your entrance, ending in your clit which he sucks and your soul seems to leave your body as your back arches for him. Your hands immediately reach your breasts increasing the sinful pleasure coursing through you. You feel one of his fingers slide in you with almost no resistance. That’s how aroused you are for him. You gasp and your hips move, making the feeling of his hot mouth on your cunt even better. With his tongue flat on your slit, Chenle’s hands squeeze your thighs, encouraging you to use his face as you please. Only stopping to spit on your throbbing core, he eats you out so deliciously your soft moans turning louder. Legs over his shoulders now, he adds two curling fingers in you.
Again and again, he kicks your clit, his fingers working magic inside you, fogging your brain and heightening the urge to cum for him.
“Fuck! I– I’m–” you can’t think, you can’t speak… and so your orgasm hits you with such intensity you are shaking under him. Your legs turn to jelly. The heavy breathing that follows your cries echo in your ears. Chenle plants one last kiss on your clit and your legs close from the overstimulation.
He lets out a low-pitched chuckle and the vibration travels straight to your clit again.
“You okay?”
You look at him in between your legs. Did this just happen? Your head falls back once more to the pillow. An involuntary laugh escapes your lips. But Chenle knows you, sometimes better than he knows himself he thinks and to him, this moment is making his heart go a million miles an hour. What an honour to have you like this, all fucked out, and all for him.
Little kisses are planted on your thighs, on your lower stomach, your hands, your breasts, until he reaches your face. You giggle in response. His eyes meet yours, and different from what you thought, you are not embarrassed. You want him more than ever, so you kiss him.
“More than okay,” you finally replied.
Reaching south of his body you find his erection already leaking for you. You stroke it slowly, the faintest of moans leaving Chenle’s lips. This is the greatest reward you can get. His breath hitches as your pace gets faster.
“Aaahhh…” a long, whiny moan.
“You like that?”
He nods reassuring you.
You bring his hips lower, aligning his tip with your entrance. In anticipation, your eyes shut but immediately your jaw falls open when Chenle’s cock begins to stretch your needy cunt. Inch after inch, pleasure builds on pleasure and you silently pray the moment never ends when he starts moving in but not completely out of you. Your nails digging into his biceps, loving the way he stretches you out.
“Ch-chenle,”
“I know, I got you,” and he wraps one of your legs around his waist, making his thrusts deeper, his cock dragging against your walls that clench tightly around him.
“Feels so so good,” your hand goes to his head, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling slightly.
“Say. That. Again,” he moans.
“It feels so good”.
Chenle buries his face in the crook of your neck. Mild sharp pain fades into pleasure when he bites your skin, licking the now sensitive spot to ease the harsh sensation. You pull his hair once more, this time to make him kiss you. And he does, so lost in passion, so lost in you. The kiss is sloppy, messy, perfect. His thumb presses circles on your clit acting as the perfect trigger for your orgasm. You feel climbing higher and higher, his cock twitching inside you, his hot breath fanning on your face, his lips curving into a smile. Fuck, he is everything.
“Chenle! Fuck… ah!” you cum for him.
“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes,” he repeats as a broken record as he pulls out and cums letting out a high-pitched moan that you will remember for the rest of your life.
Chenle kisses your face, your hands, and helps you clean up. However, you didn’t exchange a word then. Now, you find yourselves back in bed, still naked. His arm around your waist, your head on his chest. His heartbeat is a love poem itself.
“You know,” he breaks the silence. “I don’t ever want to say hello or leave without kissing you… I guess what I’m trying to say is–”
You kiss him. It’s a long kiss, your lips pressed against his. Everything feels just right like it’s meant to be.
“I really like you, Chenle,” you whisper, somewhat scared of what he will say back.
“I really really like you too, silly,” he smiles.
————————————————————-
a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨
I hope enjoyed this :3 ~ masterlist
#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#kpop fics#zhong chenle#zhong chenle x reader#zhong chenle smut#chenle x reader#chenle smut#nct dream smut#nct dream x reader#nct scenarios#nct smut#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#chenle imagines#nct dream fanfic#nct dream fanfiction#astayinwonderland
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I AM HIM, AS HE IS ME
SUMMARY — If there is anything that is universally acknowledged to be wholly true and incontestable, it’s that Gojo Satoru loves his daughter more than anything in the world. But does she know that?
AUTHOR’S NOTE — i got into a huge argument with my father a while back and it’s been weighing on my conscience. this series is largely based on our relationship and it’s been so therapeutic to write everything out and indirectly give myself an ending i want. the series isn’t complete, if anything, it’s no where near done. i want to make sure everything is perfect before i even think about posting the first chapter. its been so long since i’ve felt this strong need to write and i forgot how much of a beautiful feeling it is. everywhere i look and everything i see gives me so much inspiration for this series. but for now, here’s a little sneak peak of my new child.
(i am him as he is me spotify playlist)
SERIES WARNINGS — heavy religious themes, female reader, sugugeto, heavy angst, child abuse, childhood neglect, reader is a brat in the beginning…
TOTAL WORD COUNT — tbd…
PREVIEW —
The rhythmic buzz of the cicadas and the sweltering humidity of the summer air marked the beginning of summer and the end of… everything. Satoru could feel the material of his pants begin to stick to his legs the longer he sat on the rotting wooden bench. The train tracks before him were rusted and old; they had weathered the storm of time and had the marks to prove it. These tracks were the end. The led you to the beginning. All Satoru had to do was wait.
—
“Maybe it was because I knew she would always come back to me. Maybe I was testing her love for me. Maybe I wanted to push her away before she pushed me away.”
“That’s a lot of maybes.”
“There’s a lot of regret.”
Satoru could still feel the weight of that nostalgic love and regret in his stomach. It has buried itself so deep within him, he’s hardly sure anything would make it go away. The woman next to him looks different now; youthful, free. Satoru wants that. But does he deserve it?
I AM HIM, AS HE IS ME [MASTERLIST]
— CHAPTER ONE: “The World is a Sphere of Ice and Our Hands are Made of Fire.”
Gojo Satoru, in all aspects, is a God reborn. He holds the world and its universes in the palm of his flaming hand; unknowingly burning everything he holds dear.
— CHAPTER TWO: “If You Had to Walk into a Room with Everyone You’d Ever Met, Who Would You Look for First?”
With an emotionally distant mother and a father plagued with a god complex, there weren’t many people you could look up to. maybe, you have to look down.
— CHAPTER THREE: “Do You Believe Me When I Tell You I’m Trying to be Better?”
With tensions at an all-time high, it’s hard to ignore what has gone neglected for so long. Dams are broken and feelings are hurt, but if there’s one thing everyone knows, it’s that Gojo Satoru loves his daughter more than anything. But does she know that?
— CHAPTER FOUR: “The Unbearable Lightness of Being.”
There is nothing more heroic than the sacrifices made by a mother. But what is born of those sacrifices made? Virtue? Honour? Strength? You knew the answer to that question all too well: Guilt.
— CHAPTER FIVE: “Desperation Sits Heavy on my Tongue.”
You and your father are more alike than either of you are led to believe. He doesn’t reach. You don’t beg. Where does the tension snap?
— CHAPTER SIX: “Through Heaven and Earth, I Alone am the Honoured One.”
Hymns were sung at his birth and prophecies were written for his future, in all aspects, Gojo Satoru was a god reborn. But who is a God to a little girl searching for her father?
#jjk x reader#jujitsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#fem reader#daughter reader#megumi x reader#tsumiki x reader#geto x reader#nanami x reader#shoko x reader#itadori x reader#nobara x reader#maki x reader#yuta x reader#dad gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader
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LATE AT NIGHT
summary: sfw late night activities with them
characters: alhaitham, ayato, diluc, kazuha, wanderer, zhongli.
cw: all sfw, petnames, drabbles, zhongli is obsessed with his tea set.
alhaitham - empty library dates
it seemed the coffee you both shared earlier was starting to wear off.
books and papers strewn across the desks, heads resting against one another, a few tired yawns and incoherent mumbles occasionally cutting through the silence.
you could feel alhaitham readjust his position, lightly moving you closer. gentle, steady movements pulling you in. he obviously thought you were asleep, oblivious to the amusement written on your face.
now, you were tightly tucked underneath his arm. stuck in an embrace you know you won’t be able to escape until the morning. the smile on your face refused to vanish.
“I know you’re awake, you know.”
kamisato ayato - watching the festivals from afar
the sound of fireworks brings forth a nostalgic feeling.
it’s a sweet, fuzzy feeling that spreads like electricity throughout your veins. the vivid colours sparkling through the inky night skies, illuminating narukami island in a magical and beautiful way. you stand on the edge of kamisato estate, transfixed by the glimmers and glows, in awe, so much that you don’t hear the familiar approaching footsteps.
“they’re lovely, aren’t they?” ayato sighs, staring too at the display, before glancing down towards your face. “though…it’s nothing compared to you.”
diluc ragnvindr - wandering together at night
“i told you to wear something warmer.”
you hadn’t even said anything, but yes, you were cold. it was quite late into the night after all. then again, it was you who complained that you couldn’t sleep, so diluc suggested a night stroll might be a good idea.
“what i’m wearing now is fine,” you reply, edging just a teensy bit closer to him as you both watch a nearby owl in a tree.
diluc watches as you let out a small shiver.
to save arguments, he hoists you over his shoulder without warning and begins walking back.
kaedehara kazuha - convenience store runs
it’s 1am and you’re hungry.
you’re craving something from the convenience store down the street, but there seems to be a bit of a dilemma.
kazuha’s currently holding you in a firm hug around your waist, his peaceful face lying under your chin.
cautiously, with slow and calculated movements, you attempt to break free from his arms. you’ve put on a jacket and made it to the door when something pulls you back.
“don’t leave without me yet…”
he’s so sleepy, but he manages to carry the overloaded bags of food you might’ve gone a little overboard with.
wanderer - reality tv shows
“it’s confusing."
“no, it isn’t.”
“yeah, it is. then what’s her name? klara?”
you shake your head, almost sighing in exasperation as you watch him point to the TV.
“I’ve already told you a million times; that's Kim,” you reply, lunging to grab another handful of popcorn sitting in a bowl on your boyfriend’s lap. "I think she’s the easiest to tell apart.”
Wanderer almost snorts, rolling his eyes as he watches Kim struggle to open the car door.
His response causes you to throw some popcorn into his face, which he flicks straight back at you. “Do you want to watch something else then?”
At that, he grabs the remote. “No, I want to see her open the door.”
zhongli - teas and tales
A weak smile is your response as zhongli pours you your sixth cup of steaming green tea.
He’s sitting next to you on the small cedar dining table, animatedly reminiscing about a memory involving fierce dragons and fleeting adepti. You attempt to listen, occasionally nodding and smiling. It’s interesting, it really is, but it’s kind of hard to focus when it’s two in the morning and you desperately need some sleep.
without warning, a loud yawn suddenly escapes.
zhongli stops speaking, and for a second, you fear he’s going to pour you another cup of tea.
“it’s past midnight,” he mutters, surprised, before grabbing your hand to lift you from your seat. “sweetheart, head to bed first. I have to pack away this tea set.”
#genshin x reader#genshin drabbles#genshin fluff#alhaitham x reader#ayato x reader#diluc x reader#kazuha x reader#wanderer x reader#zhongli x reader#anya writes ✧.*
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cold greetings
cheater! scaramouche x reader
sypnosis: after taking scaramouche back from a nasty breakup-situationship he isn’t the same
warnings: cheating, angst, mean scara
“scara?” your voice almost trembled, seeing him standing on your doorstep. his cheeks and nose were reddened from the cold but a sorrowed look graced his features. he looked as if he had been crying, dark streaks down his cheeks as his cold hand gripped onto the hand you held against the door.
“(y/n)..” he whispered, gaze onto the snowy white carpet of snow on your steps. the lingering resentment held awkwardly in the air. it was almost like an unspoken promise.
the anger and resentment you still held for him kept you guarded. his tears wouldn’t sway you. not this time.
“i just, i wanna talk to you. you don’t have to say anything but i have to say this to you, or i’m afraid i’ll never get a chance to again.” he spoke softly, almost tenderly. it was as if the cruelty he had hurled towards you not too long ago never happened.
“okay. talk, but then you’re out.” you hesitantly stood aside and let his shaking figure inside. it almost felt nostalgic to see him sitting at your kitchen table again. the pink on his cheeks and the thick scarf around his neck did nothing to hide the feeling you got seeing him like this, once again.
taking a seat in front of him, you noticed the way he wouldn’t meet your gaze. his focus on his fingernails, lap, the salt shaker, anything but you.
he let out a heavy sigh before looking up at you. his eye bags seemed darker than they were the last time you saw him.
“i know i have no excuse to be here. i shouldn’t be, i know that. i hate how we ended things (y/n). it’s been you and i for years, and i miss you. i miss having you around, i miss seeing your face and hearing your voice.” a shake exhale left his lips as he sat there. guilt written all across his face. “i shouldn’t have left you that way (y/n). not when you needed me the most.” he whispered the last part, knowing how much he had hurt you.
how much he had fucked up.
memories of that night flashed back to your mind. his anger, that glare he held as he tormented you with the details of the new girl that occupied his mind. his loud laughs at your feeble attempt to show him that you didn’t need him.
it still hurt, even now. you shook your head, feeling that familiar pain again. “i can’t just forgive you scara. that was really fucked up.”
“i know (y/n), and i’m sorry. i really am. it’s just.. i’ve been thinking about it more with the holiday’s coming up. i don’t want to start a year without you in my life.”
you bit your lip back at that. your sense of nostalgia was something that kept you with him for as long as you did. you yearned for the comfort of the past, begged for it. it was the one thing that felt safe, memories.
with some reluctance, you let him back into your life. he seemed different. he was more willing to do activities with you, things he had refused to do once before. some of his belongings had found a place in your home. it felt good to be around him. almost as if you two were young again, discovering the deeper parts of your relationship together as foolish teens.
but.. if it felt so good why was he so distant now? you paused, standing in the doorway of his bedroom. it was dark except for the bright game on his monitor illuminating a corner of his room, headset on his ears as he clicked away. not paying you any mind.
“hey, scara? you said tonight we could watch—“
“i do not care (y/n). let me play my damn game, won’t you? i have more important things to do than watch something i don’t care about because of your whining.”
oh. oh. without another word you slipped away, quietly leaving his apartment. if he wanted to be alone so bad he could have his alone time. to hell with him! you thought to yourself. you wouldn’t spill any tears, not this time.
you went to bed alone that night. hugging yourself and wondering why he had to repeat history, once again. you had lost count of how many times this had happened before. he would always come crawling back to you once his life fell apart, using your weakness for the bittersweet past you’d longed for.
sighing, you rolled over on your side. you wouldn’t bother him anymore, not with how things were going. you were done with him. done!
you tensed at the feeling of cold hands around your waist, warm breath hitting the nape of your neck as your bed dipped slightly behind you. “i’m sorry (y/n).. that was a dick move.”
you scoffed, shrugging his hand off of your shoulder as best as you could. “i’m tired of this scara.” you said quietly. “i’m tired of you doing this to me. it’s been years, and you never stay the same.” you say with a sigh.
scaramouche muttered apologies as he kissed along your neck. his cold hands finding a place on your stomach now as he caressed you. “i’m sorry (y/n). i’ll be better.”
a small smile flashed across your face once he turned you onto your back, leaning down to meet your lips. the kiss felt warm, unlike the cold indifferent kisses you would press against his chapped lips.
he spent the night in your bed, holding you and reminding you of the promise you had made to each other as kids. “i will always stick with you, despite who i meet along the way.”
you woke up groggy the next day, reaching out to the space next to you only to find it empty. with a yawn you made your way to your bedroom door, opening it but pausing once you heard scaramouche’s voice. he was talking to someone, but who?
“yeah i know babe. i’ll be over by tonight. i’m just busy with work stuff, you know how it is. don’t let childe come. alright bye, see you later. i love you.”
you didn’t think as you walked up to him, grabbing his phone out of his hand and slamming it onto the table next to him. “what the fuck? are you fucking serious?”
“what (y/n)? she’s just a friend. don’t get so bitchy.”
you scoffed, shoving him back as hard as you could. your hands trembled with anger. he had betrayed you again. you stupidly believed he had learned.
“fuck you. i’m done, done with this game. get the fuck out and never come back.” he didn’t say a word as he went back into your room, grabbing his jacket and leaving you there. alone.
you didn’t cry, not at first. you were too angry to cry, all you wanted to do was scream. it seemed so good while it lasted. you believed it was the last time, the last time of being apart and being no contact for months until things would fall apart for him. the way it always did.
it took months to rebuild your life without him. he hadnt reached out, not once. but inbetween drinks with kazuha you would hear about him. his new relationship, how nice his new girlfriend was. it made the drinks taste more bitter as you’d gulp them down.
once it was june you’d find yourself with kazuha on most days. your shared laughs throughout the night turned into interlocked fingers on the sheets of your bed. it was the first time in a long time that you felt good about having a relationship with someone. like a new phase of your life had begun.
a knock on your door one stormy night brought all of this to a halt. you half expected to see kazuha there as you swung open the door. “kazu- oh.” your smile fell seeing who it was. it wasn’t your white haired lover, but your ex situationship from what seemed to be forever ago. the rain slid down his dark hair as his hand went to touch yours, but you retracted it just as fast. it was just like that day in december.
“can we talk, (y/n)?”
taglist: @whorerificstuff @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @aqualesha @msdevilis @linkookie197 @berriiov @xiaonscaraswife @foxlover1144 @reblog-crazily @samarill
#genshin angst#genshin x reader#genshin x reader angst#wanderer x reader#wanderer angst#scara angst#scara x y/n#scaramouche x you#scaramouche angst#scara x you#scara x reader#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche#genshin scara#scaramouche x y/n
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Fuyume Hanamura Idol Story 1
ーThe Yumenosaki Academy library, two years since the establishment of ES.
Fuyume: Excuse me?
Are there any fairy tales here…?
Oh, the shelf over there is the section for picture books and stuff?
Thank you for your help.
~...♪
(Ah, she was right. Yume recognises a bunch of the books over here.)
(They’ve got a good selection to choose from but the categorising is a mess. They’re just randomly thrown onto the shelf without any care for alphabetical order or release date.)
(Oh well…apparently no one has any love for fairy tales…)
(‘The Little Mermaid, ‘Momotaro’, ‘Tale of The Bamboo-Cutter’, ‘Snow White’, ‘Urashima Taro’, ‘Cinderella’—)
(Oh! It might not be the one Yume was looking for but he’s in the mood to read Cinderella today.)
(This story is another one that Yume adores.)
(It’s a tale about love being rewarded.)
…♪
Fuyume: …? Hm? Oh, uhm, you’re that nice person from earlier—did you need something?
You were so kind to Yume earlier, so he’d be happy to give you some company.
Huh? The Yumenosaki Academy library is off-limits to anyone that doesn’t work for or attend the school?
How could you tell that Yume isn’t a student here?
Ooh, cause Yume isn’t wearing the uniform…?
That makes sense…no biggie, Yume will be sure to wear the school uniform next time.
Yume is really good at sewing, so it won’t be a problem…fufu ♪
Huh? That’s not the issue?
Yume doesn't like anything you’re saying right now.
Here he was thinking you were a nice person.
Fuyume: Huh? Yume’s name is Fuyume Hanamura.
And you are? …Anzu-san? You’re a graduate of Yumenosaki?
You’re here at your old school to do some producer work, huh? It made you feel nostalgic so you’ve been walking around the grounds…?
Oh, is that the case? Hmm…♪
Then, aren’t you and Yume in the same boat? Yume goes to a middle school separate from Yumenosaki and you’ve already graduated…right?
It sounds like neither of us are allowed to be here.
Let's work together then, okay? If you pretend you never saw Yume, he won’t go around yelling, ‘There’s a trespasser in here!’ …♪
What do they call it? A contract, business, bargaining? Let’s do something like that…♪
If you’re willing to comply, Yume will leave you be. He isn't particularly interested in you anyway.
Yume is just here to read some fairy tales.
…♪
Fuyume: Huh? Did you need something else? You want to know what Yume is reading?
Ehehe, you’re interested in fairy tales? Sounds like we can get along.
Ehehehehehe. Yume is just reading a picture book about the massively popular princess, Cinderella. Though, he actually wanted to read something else.
Maybe you’ve heard of it? For some reason, no one in Japan knows about it—it’s a fairy tale about an amethyst.
Even if you don’t know the story, maybe you’ve heard this quote before?
—”The amethyst broke into pieces.”
Fufu. I guess you haven’t heard of it. Oh well.
Basically, it’s a story about an ordinary girl that comes across an amethyst that can grant any wish that she desires.
In fact, she actually fuses with the amethyst and becomes a crystalised-human of sorts.
It’s a curse put on her by an evil witch…ehehehehe ♪
The plot is kinda similar to ‘The Happy Prince’. Actually, something like ‘Arabian Nights’ or ‘The Monkey’s Paw’ might be a better match.
After transforming into the wish-granting amethyst, the girl wishes for her crush to pay attention to her, or to become better friends with people—
With each little wish she makes, the amethyst uses its power and gradually begins to crack—
Aah…♪ Eventually, her body becomes so fractured that it crumbles away and she loses all of the love and friends that she had been granted.
Her loved ones view her like a monster and chase her away in fear.
After everything, the final wish she makes is—
Fuyume: —Ah, wait, Yume thinks you should read it for yourself to find out what happens next. Spoilers are a crime!
Ehehe. If there’s one thing Yume can say, it’s that he empathises with the amethyst girl and even admires her.
At the end of it all, the final remaining piece of her—
Becomes a ring that showers the wedding between her best friend and the one she loved in joy.
After everything, her final wish is—wait, oops, Yume just realised how much he’s spoiling. He’s really really sorry.
You don’t mind? Really? You’re super kind, you know?
Ehehe. You see, Yume shares the same wish as the girl who became a ring.
—-“I wish for your life to be full of joy.”
During her final moments, the girl whose selfish asks led her to break apart used her last wish to bring someone else happiness.
Ehehe. Yume doesn’t have the power to grant wishes but he’ll do everything he can to achieve that too.
For example, Esu goes to Yumenosaki so Yume snuck in to watch over him in secret.
Huh? Does Yume love Esu?
It depends how you define ‘love’ but yep, Yume loves Esu.
But it's sad, isn't it? The reality we live in isn’t a fairytale.
—The amethyst already shattered long ago.
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Can I request a Yuta Nakamoto best friend smut? With female reader...
-🫣anon
I like your hands…
yuta x afab reader
warnings (wtf are you doing on smut tumblr as a minor?): smut, friends turned situationship, more smut, hand kink…
it was finally the weekend after a week that felt like a month! you needed to chill, take a breath, get some needed sleep, meditate… but that wasn’t going to happen, for you were going to a concert that evening. not that you minded… you were going to watch your best friend Yuta perform live, something you have always wanted to witness. but before that you had to do grown-up stuff… like shower and make yourself food and go get groceries… ugh!
just as you were about to exit your apartment to go get some groceries, your phone rings in your bag. it’s Yuta (your bestie) asking if you wanted to go for a quick brunch (that sounded so millennial I’m sorry). you agreed after being hesitant… you wondered where he got the time since he was literally performing that evening to thousands of people. you quickly pack the rest of your bag and sprint to the cafe he said to meet up at.
the cafe was fancy to say the least. you walked through the cafe doors and saw Yuta sitting in the middle of the room, already drinking a coffee. he doesn’t notice you until you’re right next to him. he quickly stands and gives you a hug ‘hi y/n, how have you been?’ he asks, pulling your seat out for you to sit. ‘I’ve been good… busy but good.’ you reply, settling your bag to the side. ‘shouldn’t you be preparing for a crowd of thousands at the moment’ you ask, looking into his eyes. damn, his eyes are really pretty now that you’re actually noticing and his hair compliments his skin tone a little too much to your liking. ‘We have a few hours before the concert and I knew you were coming to watch… thought we could chat a bit since we’ve both been busy and out of touch’ he says, grabbing your hand that was on the table and holding it. His hands are… fucking beautiful to say the least. it’s like Aphrodite sculpted every vein and crease on his hands, wrists… wow. ‘Would you like to order something?’ Yuta asks as the waiter is standing next to you… you must’ve gotten lost in a trance while looking at Yuta’s hands… you were weak!
after your meeting, Yuta walked with you back to your car, a awkward silence filled the air. ‘y/n, is there anything you’re insecure about?’ he asks, not in a offensive way, he was genuinely curious. ‘I don’t know, I think I’m insecure about everything and nothing at the same time. some days I feel pretty and other days I feel like dog shit’ you answer, Yuta looking at you confused. ‘Is there anything you’re insecure about?’ you ask in return. he takes a while to get to something that makes him feel insecure… ‘I don’t like my hands that much.’ you are shocked to say the least… ‘why, your hands are so pretty?’ you ask, a reprimanding tone in your voice. ‘I don’t know, I just wouldn’t list it as something that makes me attractive.’ he replies, you still shocked by his statement. you finally reach your car as Yuta greets you. ‘I should go get ready for tonight’s concert…’ you say, Yuta turning away and walking. ‘oh… and I like your hands…’ you say to him across the parking lot. you didn’t see it but he smiled and blushed so hard he could barely keep a straight face.
you arrive at the stadium for the concert, lines waiting for their tickets to get scanned. it was packed and you knew it was going to be a suffocating environment, however that didn’t matter for you were supporting your BEST FRIEND (which you told yourself constantly after your encounter at the cafe that morning). the show starts, people screaming and shouting, lights flashing… it was incredibly entertaining and somewhat nostalgic. the other members were amazing but your eyes were focused on Yuta… a little too much honestly. you started wondering mid concert if you were falling hard for the dude who lies like it’s a language and calls you bro as if it’s your first name. to be honest you tuned out so hard that before you knew it, the concert ended. people were leaving and the seats next to you were empty as you were just standing there lifelessly in a state of thought. you snapped back to reality shortly, got your things and went to go greet the guys backstage.
as you entered the backstage area you saw the other members either cooling off, eating or chatting with one another or other fans with a backstage pass, but you couldn’t see Yuta. you figured he was tired and probably wanted to be alone, so you greeted some of the guys but eventually left soon after. as you were heading for the exit of the backstage area, Yuta runs after you. ‘y/n where are you going?’ he asks slightly out of breath from running and performing for like… 2-ish hours. ‘I didn’t see you backstage so I thought you were tired or getting dressed…’ in that moment as you looked at him you realized he was shirtless. ‘I’m sorry, I wanted to change quickly before I saw you, I look all sweaty…’ he says shyly, and you won’t lie you would lick that sweat anytime! ‘I was wondering if you’d like a drink? Tea?’ he asked, gesturing to go to his dressing room. You couldn’t say no cause he looked all sexy with sweat dripping down his neck and he still smelled like an angel and his hair was all messy and his tattoos look all pretty and his belly button piercing was shining and his… you were WEAK!
as you entered his dressing room, you realized you were the only ones in there. he closed the door behind you and showed you to the couch in the room, which was conveniently facing the mirror. ‘so what do you want to drink?’ Yuta asks, walking across the room to the small fridge in the corner. ‘I have beer, whiskey, vodka, wine…’ he says, rummaging through the little fridge. ‘tea or a glass of water would be nice…’ you reply, Yuta laughing at your response. ‘you’re really boring.’ he says, pouring himself some whiskey and putting the kettle on for your tea. ‘I have to drive home…’ you reminded him. he sits down next to you on the couch, handing you your tea. ‘thanks for supporting me tonight, I really appreciate it.’ he thanks you, turning himself slightly to face you. ‘not as much as the fans appreciated it though…’ you say, gesturing to his still naked torso. ‘oh sorry… am I making you uncomfortable?’ he asks sarcastically, placing his hands on his chest to cover himself up. you once again notice his hands and how attractive every vein running down his arms are. he notices you staring, the air becomes thick and you completely zone out. subconsciously you both move closer to one another, both of you trying to keep focus but you just end up saying weird shit to one another and without even thinking you’re on his lap.
your lips are centimeters apart, foreheads touching and your heavy, nervous breathing seals the deal. his lips meet yours as his hand travels up your neck to your hair and grips tightly, your hands cupping the sides of his face and his other hand making it’s way under your underwear. ‘we should stop…’ you say breathlessly in an attempt to potentially save your friendship. ‘no we don’t…’ Yuta replies kissing you harder than before, his tongue intertwining with yours (and your friendship leaving the door). he flips you over so that he is hovering over you on the couch, his hands lifting your shirt up and throwing it on the ground. your bare torso feels the cold sensation of his rings as his hands roam your body, snaking down to your pants. he quickly removes your pants and throws them to the side, his hands moving towards your core. you look up to see yourself naked in the reflection of the mirror, seeing only Yuta’s back and head. he moves down to your heat, his head between your thighs and all you can see is the filthy reflection of you two in the mirror. he starts eating you out, making it impossible to keep quiet. ‘let them hear you…’ he says, moving his fingers toward your entrance and entering two fingers. his tongue licking your clit and his fingers moving in and out of you got you in a trance. ‘Yuta, I’m close…’ you say heavily, earning a grin from him. ‘cum around these pretty fingers you like so much…’ he says, pushing in and out of you faster until your cumming and squirting all over his hands and face. ‘such a good girl…’ he says, wiping his face with his dry hand.
you hear his belt unbuckle, his pants falling slowly to the floor. you feel embarrassed all naked like this, especially in front of your (former) best friend. ‘fuck, you’re beautiful…’ he says, finally removing his underwear to reveal his dick. even his dick was pretty, you don’t know how someone can be this attractive. just looking at his bare body, hooded eyes, tattoos and piercings could feed your fantasies and make you cum. ‘you look so cute naked… we might have to do this more often so I could see how cute you can get’ he says, teasing your entrance with his dick. ‘stop teasing me, please…’ you manage to whimper. ‘what do you want me to do then?’ he asks devilishly, removing himself from your entrance. ‘I want you to fuck me…’ and before you could end the sentence, he was fucking you hard. the sounds echoing in the room as his dick slams in and out of you, you’re heavy panting adding to the atmosphere. his left hand moving to your neck, slightly choking you. the sensation arousing you even further, it made you smile even. his right holds your one thigh, pushing it against your body as he moves even faster than before… you were going insane. your toes were curling from the pleasure, you knew you weren’t gonna last any longer and neither was he. ‘I’m gonna cum…’ you moan softly, his eyes meeting yours for a brief second after he was looking at your body the entire time. ‘cum for me…’ he pants in your ear, his abdominal muscles contracting with every thrust. ‘fuck you feel so good…’ Yuta says, earning a grin from you. before you could even think of anything else to say, you reached your high again. cum pouring out of you, your body shaking from what just happened. Yuta slowly pulls out and watches the cum drip down onto the couch, the sight making him want more.
before you could gather your senses he flipped you over once again so that you were straddling him. he looked into your eyes as you were hovering over him, his lips meeting yours again. he moves his lips to your neck, then to your chest as he leaves marks all over your body. ‘turn around’ he says, signaling for you to turn around so that you were facing the mirror on top of him. you quickly face the other way, now looking at yourself in the mirror and Yuta’s hands crawling along the sides of your body, one moving to your neck, the other moving to your clit. he starts circling your clit while kissing your neck from the back, him looking at your sensual reflection as well. the moans coming from you filled the room (and the hallway) as his hand moved faster around your clit. you were close to climaxing but before you could Yuta removes his hand and places it on your thigh. he lifts you slightly over his dick and he starts thrusting into you from below, your body automatically syncing up with his thrusts. the sight of you bouncing on his dick made him feel a certain way, and him knowing you’re seeing yourself all ruined like this made him even more turned on. ‘look at how pretty you are, fucked raw…’ he whispers into your ear, your core clenching at his words. ‘I want you to see how cute you look when my cum leaks out of you…’ he says thrusting even harder as if it was even possible. the hand that was on your neck moved to your breast, teasing your nipple as you were so close to cumming for the third time that evening. ‘Yuta I can’t…’ you say breathlessly, you can’t hold it in anymore. you were reaching your high for the third time but Yuta didn’t stop thrusting in and out of you until you were a cumming, squirting mess. his dick hitting you so deep it felt like you were gonna break. when he finally pulls out of you, he takes your jaw in his hand and he forces you to look at your reflection in the mirror. he forced you to look at your fucked out face, shaking body, heaving chest and the cum running down your thighs.
he gently lifts you up and places you down on the (not cum smeared part) couch. ‘see this is what happens when you compliment me!’ he says, giving you a kiss to the forehead. he went to the bathroom to go clean up and you were understandably confused and shocked. you gather your clothes that were on the floor and you quickly put them on. you look at the cup of tea on the table and you feel sorry for everything it just witnessed.
‘I should get going.’ you say as Yuta comes out of the bathroom. ‘Hey, wait…’ Yuta says, trying to stop you from leaving. ‘What?’ you ask, kinda confused and rattled by everything that just happened. you were expecting Yuta to end the friendship. you thought he wanted to cut all ties with you now that things were awkward as fuck. Yuta looked into your eyes and he asks you… ‘I was wondering… there is a new Sanrio store that opened and I was wondering if you’d like to go check it out with me?’
thanks for reading… I absolutely loved this request, we need more people like anon who asks and requests what society needs! this is inspired by my love for Yuta’s hands cause when I see them hands I started barking like a damn dog!
#nct 127#nct smau#nct smut#nct yuta nakamoto#nct yuta x reader#yuta nakamoto#yuta nct#nct127#nct#nctzen#nct yuta fic#nakamoto yuta smut#nct yuta smut#yuta#nakamoto yuta
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Sonic X Shadow Generations fascinates me. Because it feels like something I shouldn’t be excited for. And yet I absolutely am.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Sonic Generations. It’s my third favourite game in the series and my favourite 3D Sonic game (with Sonic Adventure 2 in a close second). I’m very happy to see it getting a re release to expose it to new audiences, and playing it in 4K60fps on my PS5 is a very enticing. Likewise, I really like Shadow as a character and I’m excited to play as him again.
And yet, his new bonus campaign promises to basically be a bunch of nostalgic pandering for Shadow the Hedgehog, a game which I consider to be, simply put, crap. It was boring, dull, colourless and embarrassing trend chasing. And pretty much everything I hated about it is on display in this trailer.
We’ve got gritty, grey cityscapes, we’ve got the rather blah alien villain, Black Doom returning, we’ve got the looming return of the series’…bafflingly executed lore. In a word, Shadow was a pretty much everything I didn’t want Sonic to be shoved into a blender. I’ve given my thoughts on revisiting past excesses and failures for the sake of nostalgia. I wrote a whole thing about Final Fantasy VII Rebirth and my fears that it would go overboard pandering to the 2000s spin offs (which I dislike a for lot of the same reasons as a lot of Sonic stuff from the mid 2000s). A faux attempt at maturity that sacrifices Sonic’s camp and colour, and lacks the writing competency to make its tone shift work is pretty much my worst case scenario for the series. And now we’re invoking that for nostalgia? Again, I should hate this.
So if I dislike Shadow the Hedgehog so much. If it really is so emblematic of Sonic’s worst excesses that I want it to leave behind in the 2000s…then why am I so damn hyped for this? Why am I not feeling the same dread as whenever VII Remake implicitly threatens to bring back Genesis?
I think it’s because of the specific relationship Sonic has had with its past for the last decade. So much of the stuff from that time period is material that Sega has seemed actively scared to touch again. Sometimes with good reason. But I think that’s why some material from that time has gained such a strong nostalgic cult following, and why they’re held up as such bastions of missed potential. There’s never been anything quite like Shadow or 06 since they came out with how safe Sega has subsequently played things. And in many respects, that’s a good thing. But I can see how it build a sense of mystique around them. It was kind of sad to see 2010s Sonic so…scared of itself. Terrified to invoke its own history but not really committed to a new direction either. And this is pretty much the exact opposite of that hesitancy.
Basically, the reason I react to seeing Westopolis or Black Doom with ‘holy shit let’s go!!!’ rather than ‘why, god, why?’ is because I genuinely never thought I would see them again after this long. It’s just exciting to see Sonic Team throw caution to the wind and embrace all the parts of their franchise. Even the parts I personally dislike. Plus, Sonic Generations is kind of the perfect game in which to reimagine that stuff and make it..actually good this time. This was the game that made Crisis City of all things into a banger level. The game that took Silver, one of the most notorious boss fights in the series, and gave him a kickass encounter.
If they can fix that, they can do anything.
Plus, the fact that the trailers already show all these trippy stage effects and anime af boss fights and set pieces tells me we’re not just gonna be running through the same drab washed out burning cities that made Shadow 2005 so boring. Again, there’s evidently an effort being made to rehabilitate and reimagine this stuff, not just repeat all the same mistakes. And that’s exciting.
So yeah, Sonic X Shadow Generations has somehow managed to get me genuinely excited for all the parts of the series I typically balk at. And that’s pretty impressive.
That said, if I see Mephiles again, I’m leaving.
#my unhinged ramblings about a cool remaster#sonic x shadow generations#sonic generations#shadow the hedgehog#sonic the hedgehog#basically a ramble about my love hate relationship with 2000s sonic
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Pay it no mind
Part III
In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).
Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself.
Previous: Part I, Part II
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Ikeda Haruki and you had met while you were in high school, although he did not attend Jujutsu Tech. In fact, he did not know anything about the jujutsu world or curses, the reason being that he was a non-sorcerer.
“Oh, I see… So you think they discontinued it?” Haruki looked at the products you had been holding just a couple minutes ago, touching his chin with his finger.
You shrugged. “I think so. This is the third store I try, and they just don't have it” He had asked you if you lived nearby, to which you had admitted that you did not, but your search for a certain shampoo brand had led you to that particular store.
He had laughed, but still said he totally understood, and that he would also search all of Tokyo for his favorite tea if it ever disappeared.
That made you laugh a little. “It’s not quite the same.”
You had forgotten how easy it was to engage in conversation with Haruki. That is how you quickly learned that he had only returned to Tokyo a couple months ago but was becoming a regular at that store; that he had spent some time abroad, but he had come back for work and now lived alone; and that he was sorry he did not do more to stay in touch with you.
The sun was setting when you exited the store and were about to part ways with Ikeda. The shine in his eyes reflected the colors of a sunset sky and, although nothing like the shades of blue you had grown to love, his gaze made you nostalgic for a time, years ago, when you were younger, and your hearts were probably lighter.
“Would it be okay if I asked for your number?” Haruki’s face showed just a bit of embarrassment, “I’m not trying to be creepy!”, he blushed and laughed nervously as you smiled. He was still as charming as you remembered him. “It’s just that it is nice finally seeing a familiar face. I’m sorry if that sounds…”
“No, I get it”, you interrupted him. “Things must feel different after being away for so long. I would love to catch up sometime.” You put out your phone to get his number.
***
“Don’t you dare mix your sweets with my popcorn, Satoru!” you warned him from your small kitchen.
It had been almost two months since Gojo had rejected you, but your friendship had somewhat returned to normal.
Of course, there had been weird moments between you two, like when he would mindlessly drop an arm around your shoulders and lean too close to your face, or when he would fix your uniform or try to feed you something sweet. Those things had been just part of your usual dynamic weeks ago, but now, he would back off a bit, sometimes, even before seeing your flustered face.
Now, he would do his best to just point out you needed to fix the button of your jacket and put a sweet in your hand instead of taking it straight to your lips. You did not know, but he had resolved in his heart that, if he could not give you a clear answer, at least he did not want to give you any mixed signals.
You carried the drinks to the living room and sat next to Gojo. “Are we really going to eat all of that?” You observed the variety of food in front of you that Satoru had brought and unpacked.
“You underestimate us.” He smirked and put his arm around you. He was trying, truly, but old habits die hard.
“We are going to have a hell of a stomachache after this.” You sighed and scooted closer to him. Old habits really die hard. “So, what are we watching first today? I think it is your turn to pick.”
It was usual for you and him to meet at one of your places every once in a while, to have a movie marathon and eat as much as you humanly could. Albeit unsaid, both of you were glad you were not giving up that tradition despite the events of the last few weeks.
“That one where the kid dies at the end.” He shoved a bunch of popcorn in his mouth
You glared at him. Satoru was a movie enthusiast but also a walking spoiler alert.
***
2:47 am
Your eyes opened and adjusted to your poorly illuminated living room. You had fallen asleep at some point during your third movie and judging by the position you and Satoru were in, he had been deeply asleep for a while too.
“Satoru”, you whispered. “Hey, wake up. Your neck is gonna hurt if you stay like that.”
His sunglasses had fallen off his face, so he recognized your ceiling immediately. Had he dozed off? His arm tightened slightly around your waist, and he looked at you.
“We fell asleep.” Your face had been pressed to his chest, but you were moving his arm away to sit up, your eyes on the tv screen showing the credits of the movie you had probably not finished watching. He looked at them too; his neck was a bit sore.
“What time is it?”, he asked.
You stretched before reaching for your phone. “Almost 3:00 am. We should head to the bedroom.” You yawned.
Now that woke him up. “The bedroom?!”
You raised an eyebrow. “You are staying, right? But you cannot take the bed if you don't want the futon this time.” It was not a big deal that he stayed. After all, he would do it most times.
Since you did not have a guest room, he had insisted on getting a futon so he could stay over when he was 'too tired' to go home, although he would sometimes steal your bed and force you to take the futon instead because 'it was more comfortable' and 'best friend privilege'.
Of course, you had argued that he could just teleport home if he wanted, but he would put the futon in your bedroom anyway or in the living if it was a summer night and stay over.
“Right...” he said.
It took you a second too late to realize that he might have thought it to be weird. Sleeping in the same room as him used to be one thing, but now would he not prefer going home?
"Alright." You nodded and went to the bathroom in a hurry to shake away any awkwardness.
Gojo felt relieved when you left him alone, hoping his expression had not been too revealing. He sat up straight and ran his fingers through his hair. His face felt hot, and what on earth had he imagined at the mention of your bedroom?
He thought of how close you had been just a moment ago and how easily he had relaxed and fallen asleep with you in his arms.
We fit perfectly.
He smiled at that thought but immediately felt the urge to scold himself.
What is wrong with me? We are friends.
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Note: Can you tell I enjoy picturing Gojo in denial?
Thanks for reading!
Next: Part IV
#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jjk gojo#satoru x reader#satoru x you#drabble#gojo fanfic#pay it no mind#gojo fluff
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Ino craves you but you always liked to tease
★tags: ino is whipped yall + sub!ino + dom!reader + afab reader + fingering + mask kink + my first time writing for ino, so pls be g-gentle with me.
Takuma does what he’s told. If he’s ordered to stand, he’ll stand. If he’s ordered to jump, he’ll jump. If he’s ordered to sit on his knees and take the only front-row seat of you fingering your drooling pussy, then the seat is already taken.
“Don’t lick or touch until I tell you to.” Your tone refrains him from even thinking about stubbornly rebelling against you. There’s a hindrance in your blunt demeanor with each weak point you hit with languid digits, but it’s there regardless, still a looming overcast that darkens his view from brilliant sun rays. It rains ever so slightly but when it pours, he makes sure to cherish the wet taps draping across his skin.
He’s weak in this state, enough to mumble out a puny ‘yes ma’am’ that's barely a pitch louder than the sloshing of bodily wetness. You’re loud. And you’re dirtying the couch; it was a hand-me-down but his nostalgic memories are still engraved in that ragged cushion. That doesn’t make him no never mind though.
Consider it pleasurable torture because the growth between his legs ache with a sense of carnal urge, wanting to be freed from the confinements of fabric and kissed by weeping lips of sin to wash that disgruntled pain away.
But that pain only grows as you continue to flick, probe, and pinch at every delicate inch of fragile skin while coffee brown hues gaze up in delight, dare he say, honored to witness a beauty as enticing as you. The fat around your thighs and tummy seems grabbable and the erect nubs on your chest begged to be sucked.
Saucers widen to plates as Takuma’s astonished eyes feed off of the display in front of him. He’s internally waiting for your word, your order to wrap his hungry lips around your hard clitoris and lap greedily along the path of your labia.
He’s ready to feel your fingers grip the roots of his locks once he graces you in eager swipes and rattles you with grunts that ring through your heated body, keens oozing from your lips like warm chocolate drizzling onto his awaiting tongue–he’s drooling like a wet dog. Perhaps from both your juicy cunt and that blatant chocolate simile.
With a look so desperate, you must’ve picked up his heavy pants because they were starting to sound pathetic to you.
“Taste me.” And with those words, Takuma could’ve sworn he heard an angel coo against the shell of his ear, he guesses those hushed prayers of you really have been heard!
He crawls tentatively like a newborn kitten, unsure of the world they’ve been born into. He wet his lips, not that it was needed since he’d been salivating this whole session, but call it a force of habit.
If he couldn’t smell you before then he could now with how the tip of his nose traced the wisp of your pubic hairs that remained unshaven save from the light wax you’ve gotten on your bikini line. The soft scent of sweat provoked a moan from him and he couldn’t help but swoon over how his tongue would pick up each salty bead with shameless content. And he was close to doing so until-
“Stop.” Takuma halts. He believes he’s in the wrong for how your sternness cuts through the sexual tension in the room. “Clearly you’re forgetting something, lover boy.” It takes him a beat to recognize what it is until his eyes land on the black cotton of his mask, almost lying purposely beside you.
Upon putting it on, you hum in delight and spread your legs further. Takuma delves in. Though with the mask acting as a cruel barrier from the treasure he initially seeks, he remains happy to find that he can taste you on his tongue. Your cunt is savory and delectable that he seemingly can’t make any comparisons to anything he’s ever tried. It’s enough to make him want to shrivel into a heap of nothingness, enough to make him fight against an army of guns with the aid of a sword.
A sword that's dull and pertains no prowess but he’d be willing to take that slim chance at victory just for the sake of you.
You bring him to the lowest point of desire and yearning that even sucking your pussy through cotton fabric was enough for him to squirm.
He looks up at his obsession with love-stricken eyes. Eyes that say that he will love you and your pussy forever. And with you singing out to him like a whimsical canary, he’d make sure that his love is what he gives you until the day he’s deemed dead.
#ino takuma x reader#ino takuma smut#ino takuma#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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FOR LIFE — Choi Yeonjun
SUMMARY ✰ You don’t want to bother your ex-boyfriend, Yeonjun, but in the midst of intense heartbreak and questioning why the ones you love always leave you, you have no choice but to invite him over to help you make sense of it.
GENRE ✰ Ex!Yeonjun, Firstlove!Yeonjun, ANGST
🎧 ➤ For Life by EXO
You swipe down on your phone to check the time, which reads 10:00PM.
Your lower lip is practically bleeding from how hard you're biting it, all because of the nervousness you feel as you hover over Yeonjun's phone number. You know you shouldn't reach out to him, even though the last time he saw you, six months ago, his lips planted a delicate kiss on your forehead and he assured you that you could call him whenever you need him.
It’s selfish though, is it not? To interrupt whatever peace he’s gained since the two of you broke up, all because you haven’t been able to find your own? A year and a half has passed, and based off of the scraps of his life he’s allowed you to have through social media, he seems so much better off. He’s constantly traveling, glowing, and you know him—he’s way too beautiful and perfect to not have replaced you by now.
“Fuck it.” You utter. With a shaky thumb, and a quivering voice, you press the call button. You have no clue whether he’ll pick up the phone for you. All you know is that more than anything, you need to hear his voice, and as your first love, and the only ex you don’t absolutely despise, he’s the only person qualified to assist you in this moment.
You’re sitting on the floor in-front of your bed in fetal position, rocking back and forth to the sound of the phone ringing. After three rings, it stops, and so does your heart for a second. Did he send you to voicemail? He probably did. I mean, you would've sent yourself to voicemail if you're being completely honest.
“Hello?”
His voice is clear and unwavering, and now you're frozen in place. Your mouth opens and then closes repeatedly, but words refuse to come out of your mouth and you aren't sure why.
"Hello? Y/N? Maybe she called by accident." He mutters. You hear him getting out of his chair in his studio, the squeaky sound instantly reminding you of all the times you curled up into his lap, content as long as you're with him, but silently wishing he'd give it up for the night and take you home so the two of you could sleep.
“Um, it’s me. Me, as in Y/N. Wait—you know that already.”
You start to relax a little when you hear his consoling chuckle that he uses when you're amusing him. “You don’t think I deleted your number, did you?” You don’t have to see him to know that his left brow has raised teasingly.
“Well it has been a long time.”
“It doesn’t matter how much time has passed. I told you that you can call me whenever. I’m always going to care about you.”
You know he’s a saint—everybody does, but it still catches you off guard every time. His tone is so genuine, and you can hear his the confident smile he’s wearing on his face. He knows he has you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, holding in your squeal of excitement that you would totally let out if he wasn’t still on the other line.
“Thanks.”
“Is that all you called for? To hear my voice? I didn’t know we were allowed to do that.”
Your eyes shut, and without regret, you slap yourself on the forehead. God, why is he still so good at taking your breath away? “No.” You sigh, “I just—I really just…ugh.”
“Take your time.” He coos.
“Yeonjun.” You wine, a shy hiccup escaping your throat.
“Okay, I’m sorry. It’s just so easy to tease you. What’s wrong?”
“If I’m being honest, I’m a mess.”
“You’re not a mess, Y/N. Don’t say that.”
Had this been a few months ago, you’d stop him right there, asking him if you’re truly not a mess, why didn’t he stay? But that would ruin the mood, wouldn’t it? You hate how quick your emotions change. You were happy to hear his voice—enjoying your nostalgic back and forth, but now your entire body feels icky and tears are welling up in your eyes.
“Well something isn’t right, because I keep giving my all to people and they keep sucking the life out of me and leaving.”
Silence.
“Can I come over?” He says. You don’t know whether to be surprised or not. You know him—he probably felt a rush of guilt from your subtle, but sharp words. Guilt is what you believe kept the two of you together as long as you were. You really don’t know the truth, because all he said when he broke up with you is the cop-out “I’m too overwhelmed” instead of saying what it really was.
“I mean—yeah, of course. But you don’t have to. You actually can hang up and pretend I never called if you want. This is weird anyways for you I’m sure.” You force a laugh to try and lighten the mood, and he mimics you.
“I owe it to you. I’ll be over in like thirty minutes.” Is all he says before hanging up.
The room suddenly feels both emptier and warmer after Yeonjun's promise to come over. You take a deep breath, a mix of relief and apprehension settling within you. The rhythmic ticking of the clock becomes more pronounced as you gather your thoughts, realizing the gravity of what you've just set in motion.
After what seems like an eternity, a soft knock interrupts the silence. You hesitate for a moment before getting up, your legs feeling like jelly. You open the door, and there he is, Yeonjun, with that familiar reassuring smile.
"Hey," he greets, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.
Ah, there it was. The paralyzation of your mind and mouth whenever your orbs greeted each other. It didn’t matter how long you prepared your words, everything always disappeared when he was in-front of you. What did you invite him over for again?
You manage a nervous laugh, realizing the irony of the situation. "I think I invited you over to... discuss life, or maybe just to remind myself what it feels like to have someone who understands." You slowly back away from the door, which allows him to step in. Flashbacks of him being nose to nose with you try to creep in, but you’re still fighting.
Yeonjun smirks, his eyes holding a playful glint. "Well, I'm here for both, and anything else you need. Discussing life is kind of my specialty."
The room settles into a comfortable quietude, filled only with the soft hum of distant city sounds. Yeonjun's presence brings a warmth that transcends the physical space, as if the air is charged with the shared history between you two.
"Can I sit?" Yeonjun questions softly. He refuses to look at the couch, and you wonder if it’s because he can’t help but be reminded of every kiss, touch, and comfort the two of you have shared on its worn cushions.
You nod, giving him permission as you try to read the emotions flickering in his eyes. He chooses a spot on the floor instead, perhaps opting for a neutral space that doesn't carry the weight of history.
The silence stretches for a moment, both of you enveloped in your thoughts. You can't help but steal glances at him, the playfulness from earlier replaced by a quiet contemplation. The ghost of a smile tugs at his lips, hinting at the shared nostalgia.
“So.” You utter.
“So.” He repeats.
“I uh—you’re my first love.”
"I know," he replies softly, a mixture of understanding and a hint of regret in his voice.
"My first... everything," you remind yourself in the moment, the vulnerability in your words echoing the raw emotions that brought him to your apartment tonight.
Yeonjun shifts on the floor, adjusting to the weight of your confession. "I remember," he says, his tone gentle. "It's not something you easily forget."
A bittersweet smile plays on your lips as you recall the shared moments that shaped your past. "You left, though. You left me wondering what was wrong with me."
He looks down, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the floor. "Y/N, I didn't leave because of you. It was me, my own issues. I didn't handle things the way I should have."
Your eyes meet his, searching for sincerity in the depths of his gaze. "But it felt like I wasn't enough. Just like now, with someone else. I keep wondering if there's something inherently wrong with me."
Yeonjun sighs, a heavy exhale that carries the weight of shared struggles. "Y/N, it's not you. You're not the problem. Sometimes people leave not because of who you are, but because of where they are in their own journey. It took me a while to understand that."
You take a deep breath, the truth settling in your chest. "I just wanted you to know... why I called you tonight. It's like history repeating itself, and I needed someone who understands."
Yeonjun's gaze softens, a silent invitation for you to share your story. The weight of unshed tears lingers in your eyes as you begin to unravel the painful narrative of your recent past.
"It's Yuta," you admit, the name carrying a bitter taste on your tongue. "He came into my life when I was convinced I was done with relationships. Said all the right things, made me believe there was something real between us."
Yeonjun listens, his expression a mix of empathy and concern. You trace invisible patterns on your palms, a feeble attempt to anchor yourself in the vulnerability of the moment.
"But the moment I started to like him, he turned distant, hot and cold," you continue, your voice cracking slightly. "It was like he played this game, and I didn't understand the rules. One day he was all in, and the next, he acted like we were strangers."
Yeonjun's jaw tightens, a subtle display of the protective instinct he still holds for you. "He doesn't deserve you," he says, his voice carrying an undercurrent of anger.
The pain in your chest intensifies as you delve deeper into the tangled web of emotions. "I thought I was over these insecurities, that I could move on. But it hurts, Yeonjun. It hurts to feel like I'm not enough, like no matter how hard I try, someone will always find a reason to leave."
Tears threaten to spill over, and you look away, hoping to hide the vulnerability etched across your face. The room feels suffocating, a reminder of the cycles of heartache you find yourself trapped in.
But the echoes of Yuta's actions linger, reopening old wounds and casting shadows on the love that once bloomed in this very room. The irony of finding solace in the person who was once the source of your joy is not lost on you, and the weight of it all presses heavily on your shoulders.
In a desperate attempt to redirect the overwhelming emotions, you turn to Yeonjun, your voice trembling. "Why did you leave, Yeonjun? Was it me? Am I too much, too clingy? Not pretty enough? I need to understand."
Your words spill out in a frantic torrent, the questions forming a chaotic symphony in your mind. The room seems to close in as you anxiously await his response, fingers twisting together in a silent plea for clarity.
Yeonjun's eyes flicker with guilt, a deep-rooted understanding of the pain he once caused you. "Y/N, it's not about you. It never was. I had my own issues, my own demons. I ran because I was scared, and I didn't know how to face them."
"But why?" you press, desperation lacing your voice. "I need to know. I can't keep replaying scenarios in my head, wondering what I did wrong."
He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration. "It's not about you being too much or not enough. You were everything. It's about me not being enough for myself."
Your heart pounds in your chest, the words sinking in but offering little solace. The uncertainty gnaws at your sanity, and you're on the verge of a breakdown without even realizing it. The fear of inadequacy, the fear of repeating the same cycle with Yeonjun that you did with Yuta—it's all too much to bear.
"I just wanted to be good enough for you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted to be enough for someone, anyone."
The room hangs in a fragile balance, the unspoken emotions swirling between you and Yeonjun. The weight of your insecurities crashes against the fragile walls you've built, threatening to break you down completely. As you grapple with the echoes of your past and the uncertainty of the present, you find yourself caught in a storm of emotions, hoping that somewhere in this chaos, you can find the answers you so desperately seek.
Yeonjun's frustration simmers beneath the surface, a storm gathering in the calm of his expression. His eyes, once warm, now reflect the turmoil within. He takes a deep breath, his words measured but carrying an edge of exasperation.
"Y/N, I need you to understand," he begins, his tone low but intense. "You didn't make it easy for me to leave. In fact, you were the hardest person to walk away from. But being around you, it felt suffocating."
Your heart skips a beat, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut. "What do you mean?"
He runs his hands through his hair, a gesture of frustration. "You're perfect, Y/N. An angel. I'm not. I never was. Being with you highlighted everything I wasn't. It was like standing next to a light so bright, I couldn't help but cast a darker shadow."
His confession hangs in the air, the weight of his words sinking into the very core of your being. The truth, raw and unfiltered, leaves you speechless.
"And you," he continues, his eyes never leaving yours, "you attract darkness, not because there's something wrong with you, but because you're so full of light. Some people, like Yuta, and every guy before him, they weren't ready for that light. They wanted to take your good energy and use it to mask their own dark souls, leaving you with the shattered pieces."
Tears blur your vision as the truth unravels before you. The ache in your chest deepens, the realization settling in that the very qualities that make you extraordinary are the ones that others find intimidating, overwhelming.
Yeonjun's frustration morphs into a deep sense of regret, his eyes pleading for your understanding. "I wasn't ready for you, Y/N. I was too consumed by my own darkness. It's not about you being too much. It's about me not being enough for someone as pure and good as you."
There’s a silence that’s so sharp, it’s suffocating.
"Why don't you hate me?" he questions, his gaze searching yours. "After everything, after being the first one to abandon you, why don't you hate me like you seem to hate everyone else?"
In the dimly lit room, as the shadows dance across Yeonjun's features, you find yourself captivated by the familiar lines of his face. The subtle play of light highlights the contours, and you take a moment to appreciate the details that you've come to cherish.
His eyes, deep and expressive, hold a universe of emotions that have both comforted and challenged you. You remember the times they sparkled with laughter, the warmth that enveloped you in moments of shared joy. Now, in the quiet of the room, they reflect a mixture of concern and care, amplifying the intensity of your emotions.
You look at him, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "I honestly don't know, Yeonjun. All I know is that you're the only one I can't get over. The one my mind always takes me back to. I love you, and I don't want to, but I do."
The weight of your admission hangs in the air, and you can feel the vulnerability of your heart laid bare. Yeonjun's eyes widen slightly, registering the depth of your words. His silence carries a mixture of surprise and understanding, and in that moment, you wonder if your hearts are resonating in the quiet space between you.
"Y/N, I never wanted to hurt you like this. Knowing that I'm the one you can't get over, despite everything, makes me feel a thousand times worse."
"Yeonjun," your voice trembles, "is there any part of you that still loves me?"
For a moment, Yeonjun hesitates, his eyes flickering away from yours as if avoiding the intensity of your gaze. The air seems to thicken, anticipation mourning. Finally, he meets your eyes again, his expression a mix of sadness and resolution.
"Y/N, I..." he pauses, choosing his words carefully, "I've loved you, and a part of me probably always will. But it's been a long time, and I've had to accept that you deserve more than I could give you. You deserve someone who won't hurt you, who can give you the love and stability you deserve."
Your doe-like, teary eyes lock onto his, seeking the truth that you've been denied for so long. You can sense the sincerity in his words, and even though the truth stings, there's a part of you that appreciates the honesty you've yearned for.
"Thank you for being honest with me, Yeonjun," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. It's a bittersweet acknowledgment, a painful acceptance of the reality you've been avoiding.
Yeonjun's inner monologue swirls with conflicting emotions as he observes you, the ache in his chest almost palpable. As he maintains his gaze on you, his internal struggle remains concealed behind a veil of remorse. While he acknowledges his shortcomings and the belief that he doesn't deserve you, there's a tumultuous storm of conflicting emotions within him.
I want to kiss her. The thought echoes in his mind like a persistent whisper, each word resonating with a desire that threatens to consume him. As he sees the pain in your eyes, the longing to comfort you intensifies. He imagines the taste of your lips, the warmth of your embrace—familiar sensations that once brought solace and joy.
To fall into her, to sob into her chest. The yearning is raw, a deep ache that transcends physical touch. He imagines the release of tears, the vulnerability of exposing his soul to you. The safety he once found in your embrace feels like a distant memory, and the realization of the chasm between them intensifies the pain.
I wish I could be toxic. The admission lingers in his thoughts, a confession he's never dared to voice. The allure of toxic patterns, the chaos that might temporarily numb the pain, has crossed his mind. But he refrains, acknowledging the destructive consequences it would bring to both of you.
I don't want to disappoint her ever again. The final realization echoes with a profound truth. The fear of letting you down, of causing more pain, holds him back from laying bare the entirety of his emotions. His commitment to your well-being, despite the internal chaos, remains unwavering.
You're too caught up in the sound of your heart breaking to notice the whirlwind in his mind.
Once again, the room falls silent. Neither of you knows what to do or say. Lost in your own thoughts, you both stare through each other, searching for a way through the emotional haze.
Breaking the silence, Yeonjun takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to tenderly caress your cheek. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver through your body, the sensation a paradoxical mixture of comfort and ache. "Goodnight," he murmurs, his eyes holding a depth of emotions he's yet to articulate. "I hope I helped, even a little."
As he turns to leave, the gravitational pull of his departure becomes palpable. The door seems both a physical and emotional barrier, and it's in this charged moment that you act on an impulse you can no longer suppress. Your hand reaches out, grasping his arm, pulling him back towards you.
His eyes widen with surprise, and before either of you can fully comprehend the situation, your lips meet in a kiss that holds the weight of shared history and unspoken desires. The kiss is a magnetic collision, a dance of emotions too long confined. Yeonjun responds immediately, the barriers crumbling as he embraces the intimacy of the moment.
In the heat of the moment, Yeonjun lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around him as he carries you towards the bedroom. The physical and emotional boundaries blur as you lose yourselves in the shared journey, an exploration of a space where the weight of the past can be confronted and, perhaps, rewritten.
Behind the closed bedroom door, the air crackles with intensity as the kiss deepens, becoming a language of its own. Yeonjun's hands explore the familiar landscape of your body, each touch igniting a spark of desire that had long been dormant. The warmth of the room mirrors the heat between you, and as your bodies meld, the boundaries that once confined you seem to dissolve.
With a gentle urgency, Yeonjun lowers you onto the bed, the weight of his body pressing against yours. The layers of clothing become obstacles, and with a shared understanding, you begin to dismantle the barriers that separate you. The room becomes a haven for rediscovery, a sanctuary where past wounds are soothed by the tender exploration of each other's skin.
As you both lie together, catching your breath, the room feels charged with unspoken feelings. In the quiet aftermath, Yeonjun looks into your eyes, and in that moment, you sense a promise of healing and a new beginning. The heaviness of the past isn't gone, but it feels a bit lighter, as if the shared vulnerability and intimacy of the night have carried some of the weight away.
As the stillness settles over the room, a soft plea escapes your lips, breaking the quiet. "Stay, just for tonight," you murmur, your eyes reflecting a vulnerability that has long been concealed. "I want to feel loved, even if it's just for a little while."
Yeonjun, his gaze holding a mixture of understanding and remorse, sighs. The weight of the unspoken hangs in the air, but there's a tenderness in his eyes that speaks of shared pain. In that moment, he reaches out and brushes your braid from your face, his touch a gentle reassurance.
"I can stay," he says somberly, a promise laced with the acknowledgment of the complexities between you. "Just for tonight."
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