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changisworld · 21 hours

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Hii, I've got a request in mind, thinking about Hannie but ain't not sure if it fits Seungmin too (that "honey can you bring my towel" scene he acted at that tv show lives rent free in my mind), so it's a first time thing + shy reader + he puts her hand on his hard on (Idk I feel like they give such a sneaky vibe, in a moment you're laughing with him and the next you're underneath him). Steamy make out, dry humping, handjob, whatever you feel more fitting, just pls don't let poor bb with them blue balls 👀

Little note: can I be 🍦 anon? ❤

MY BABY 🍦im so sorry its taken almost 3 months to write this:( better late than never though! i hope it was semi worth the wait<3

i had no idea what you were referring to so i had to go on tiktok n find it n i THINK i know what youre talking about!

Word count;2,760

18+, MDNI SMUT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here.

SMUT WARNINGS: PIV, whiny hannie, handjob, fingering(f rec), spit, creampie, dry humping, teasing, hannie & y/n are both subby?, slightly nervous hannie, tit play, slight mommy kink

You're currently sitting on your new boyfriend, Han jisungs bed while he showers in his small bathroom connecting to his bedroom & you're just scrolling through tiktok as he belts out whatever song that's playing from his phone without a care in the world.

You've been dating Jisung for around 3 months but you both have agreed that you can both see it going long term, much to both of your happiness!

You've warmed up to Jisung a whole bunch, being a whole lot more shy before meeting him & he was just as much as a nervous person as you are, but you've both brought out the best in one another. But, because you're both a bit more reserved, you've been a bit too scared to make the first move. You've kissed countless times & he has slipped a finger in once or twice, but nothing else past that, him not wanting to push any more boundaries.

You're just watching some of those true crime tiktoks, sprawled out on top of the messy, unmade bedsheets, not realising the shower had turned off until you hearing Jisung kissing his own teeth & groaning.

"Y/nnie? Can you go into my closet n gimme a towel, I've forgotten mine!" Han yells through the door, dragging out the last syllable & you just hum in response before dragging yourself to where he stores his clothes, towels & blankets & grabbing the first one you see.

"Open the door then Sungie!" you cheer, fingers fidgeting with the material. Jisung slowly opens the door & pokes his head out, not wanting to show anything non PG, he pinches the towel out of your hand but doesn't bother to fully close the door over again as he tries to tie it around his waist before awkwardly chuckling.

"Y/nnie, uh, I usually just.. air dry? after showering & I genuinely have no idea how to tie it like how girls do! If you... don't mind could you tie it for me? Or you can just bring me some sweatpants n I can change in here!" He splurges out, almost being able to hear his heartbeat through the door separating you both.

"You'll just stay damp in there since the steam is hitting me in the face, yeah I can.. I can tie it for you." you reply, trying to sound confident. You give him the time to hold the towel around him & you slowly push open the door, the smell of the shampoo & body wash he used still strong in the air.

You give him a smile & a small giggle, which he gladly mirrors & you take the top part of the towel & tightening it before tucking it in, making it stay put without the need to hold it with his hands anymore.

As you do this though, you realise the towel is a bit of an odd size, it being a bit small despite it being wrapped around his tiny waist, showing off his growing bulge through the tight DIY now skirt he is wearing & you can't help but blush.

"Oi! Don't look! I said I don't use towels I didn't realise they're a horrible size!" as he covers the growing tent under the towel, his chubby cheeks going red as his big eyes look at you & you just laugh but your eyes can't stop trailing down to his now fidgeting hands.

"You're so dramatic Sungie, It's hot in a way, you're so unaware it's funny." You giggle, your fingers pinching his cheeks & he blushes even more before his hands move from where they were perched to swat your fingers away, but as he does so, his towel of course begins to slip & you both realise at the same time, your hands & his hands racing to stop it from falling.

Your hands reach the towel first & you grab it & his hands cup over yours & you both realise instantly, you're cupping over his now even more hardening cock, his own hands keeping you there.

You both look up at your hands at the same time then back up at each other, both of your eyes wide open. He quickly removes his hands from yours, but to both of your surprise, you don't move your hands away.

"Y/nnie, you gonna move your hands or what?" he questions, his voice full of shock. You snap back into reality when he says this & your hands whip away from him, holding them up to your chest.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know you wouldn't lik-" you rush out. "hey hey hey! I didn't not like it, I liked it as much as any other guy would! I just didn't think you would be so bold or ballsy I guess?!" he cuts you off, using one hand to hold the towel around his waist as he is waving the other hand around, trying to get his point across.

You blush at what he says & you pause for a moment, but when you can't really think of a verbal response, you give a physical one instead, & you move your hand to lightly cup him again which makes his hips twitch as he looks at you, his jaw slightly open.

You move your hand slightly, getting a bit of a better feel & he instantly gets harder under your touch & he stutters & you just giggle again at him, looking at his features, watching for the reaction he's giving.

"Is this alright, Sungie?" you ask as you take the extra mini step & lean in to his neck & give it a quick peck before looking into his eyes, smiling at his pretty face. "Y-yeah, can we not do this in the bathroom though? ruins the mood, unless you wanna get back in the shower with me?" he jokes, trying to sound confident despite him absolutely freaking out inside.

You nod your head & take his hand & you both walk back into the bedroom & you straddle him once the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, him flopping down. "Can I.. remove this? We don't need to though, Hannie." you murmur out, cupping his cheeks.

"Mhmm, please, please please." he pleads before he pushes on the back of your head & he kisses you, his tongue not taking long to begin poking into your own. At the same time, you raise your hips just enough so you can paw the towel away, now leaving him bare beneath you, which makes you think your heart is going to come out of your mouth.

You slowly grind over his cock with your covered core in a slow motion as you deepen the kiss, Jisung letting out a small groan at the contact & his hips buck up when you allow a shaky hand to wrap around his already somehow leaky cock & you begin jerking it at a good pace, his lips involuntarily breaking away from yours for a second, drool completely coating his lips & chin by this point.

"This okay f'you?" you tease, his reactions already giving away the fact that it's more than okay, he just lets out another small whine before moving his head up enough to kiss you again, his hips bucking up into your hand & his precum coating parts of your hand, his tip completely shiny.

You grind down on his upper thighs as you jerk him off, your own little pants swapping between your lips as you get a bit, but no way near enough friction for you to fully get off on.

Hans breathing begins to speed up & become slightly erratic & he moves his fingers from the back of your hair & he rests them on your hips, helping you grind, but not long after, he is fiddling with the waistband & you take the hint, you break your lips from his & take the few seconds to wiggle off your pants, leaving you in your plain cotton panties & Jisungs shirt you stole.

Hi big boba eyes, completely blown out, stare up at you in awe & he sits up, his face level with your covered tits. "Can I take this off too, y/nnie?" he asks & the second you give the okay, he gets rid of it before you have the time to blink, letting out a strained grunt at the fact you aren't wearing a bra.

Once you're left in just your underwear, Jisung flips you over so he is between your legs, leaning over you & he basically has his eyes glued to your now pebbled nipples & he has to bite his lip to avoid drooling all over them & you giggle at his reaction, your cheeks going red with a mix of nerves, slight embarrassment from his eyes burning into you & also love.

Jisung makes his way down slightly so he is level with your chest & he simply admires your tits as his left hand now rests on your inner thigh, thumb caressing it.

"Can I touch you, jagi? We don't need to go any further." he asks for reassurance. "Hannie, stop asking, I'm dying for it, please." you respond, your hips jerking up to convince him. He blushes more than he already is & he lets his fingers trail onto your covered core as he runs his finger up & down your slit, making you bite your lip, trying to not moan too loudly.

"Don't silence yourself jagi, don't be nervous, it's just me." he says in a sweet tone as his fingers move your underwear to the side, happy with himself with the wet spot he caused on the fabric.

His fingers begin spreading your wetness on your slit, making sure to prolong an extra few seconds of attention on your clit before he enters one finger into your dripping hole, a small squelch noise being made from it & your back slightly arching off the bed, Jisung not being able to hold back the smirk now spreading across his lips as he lets his lips latch onto your nipple.

"O-oh shit! Sungie, right there." you whimper, your fingers weaving into his hair as you spread your legs a bit more & wiggling your hips, trying to get his finger impossibly deeper.

He decides to add a second finger as he finds your G-spot & your breath hitches in your throat & your eyes scrunch shut, pulling his hair, him moaning into your tit along with you.

You feel your orgasm beginning to build up as you can both feel yourself clenching around his now two fingers. "Sungie, lie down, wanna cum with you." you whimper, trying your hardest to concentrate enough to speak an actual sentence.

Jisung unlatches himself from your tit & pulls his now soaked fingers out of your cunt, much to his displeasure. He crawls his way to the top of the bed & rests his head on the pillows & you are quick to follow behind him, straddling him again before leaning down to kiss him.

"Can I put it inside? Wanna feel you." He pleads, glossy eyes looking up at you as his hands are resting on your waist. "What's the magic word?" you decide to tease, your fingers reaching down to fondle his balls, making his eyebrows furrow & another bead of precum dripping down his cock.

"Pleaseee, mommy please, please let me." he begs, not being able to stop his ears going bright red as his fingers move their way to your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands as his hips keep buck up into you.

You are caught slightly by surprise by the 'mommy' part of the sentence, but you also know it's exactly something he & now also you're into.

You decide to not let him wait any longer as you're also itching for him to fill you up, your wetness leaving a small slick patch of where you were straddling as you raise your hips & Jisung grabs his pretty dick & runs it over your folds, making you jolt, before aligning himself up with your hole & you begin to slide him inside.

You sink down until you can't anymore & you both hiss at the feeling, him already resting against your spongey spot & the warmth of you wrapped around him making his mind spill.

You raise your hips slightly & then sink back down, setting a slow but pleasurable pace as small moans begin escaping your lips, jisungs eyes completely stuck to you, simply admiring you.

Drool escapes his lips & dribbles down the side of his cheek, his tongue poking out his jaw dropped mouth ever so often as you both share moans.

"Yo-you're so tight jagi, mind is n-oh m, fuck." Jisung babbles, his hands helping your thrusts by moving your ass up & down as his hips jerk up to also meet you in the middle, making you squeal.

You place your hands on his shoulders as you begin to quicken your pace, trying your best to ignore the stinging pain in your thighs as you do so.

Jisung sits himself up against the headboard, making sure to not slip out of you as he settle you both in the similar but different position. You begin grinding on his cock & slowly bouncing as Jisung reaches to begin suckling on your nipple again as his fingers begin to fondle your other tit, making you moan.

"Y-you're filling me so well, Sungie" you whimper as your motions find the best spot where his cock can reach & picking up your speed.

Jisung lets out a loud 'uumph' as his tip hits into your soft spot, making your belly go hot inside, but he can feel your speed slowing. Jisung unlatches from your now spit covered nipple & blows some cold air on it before he repositions you both, helping you lay on your stomach & you lift your hips so your ass is in the air for him, which makes him groan.

"Sungie, put it back in, wanna make you cum." you implore, wiggling your ass in front of him to convince him, which works as he swallows a choked moan before lining himself back up with your sopping cunt & sliding back in.

You both let out a moan in unison as Jisung begins to pick up his pace, trying his best to not throw his head back from the new position & angle, looking down at the way your ass ripples every time his hips hit against it & he can feel his orgasm building up instantly.

You both keep babbling, mostly to yourselves, his pace just right so you can't stop clenching, your knuckles turning white from gripping the bedsheets, your cheek pressed against the bed.

"S-sung- I'm gonna c-cum." you yelp, eyes rolling to the back of your head, Jisungs cock got a white ring against the base of his cock, being able to quite literally hear the wetness coming from between your legs.

"S-me too, clenching t-too much, w-wher-" "Inside, inside Hannie." you are quick to cut him off, rushing the words out just in time before your orgasm bubbles over, your legs getting weak & if it wasn't for Jisung holding onto your hips. As soon as your cunt begins to spasm around him, his own release hits him & his cum paints the inside of your walls white, basically squealing as the pleasure washes over him, his bottom lip all puffy from how much he has been biting it.

He pulls out & slowly helps you lay down fully on your stomach before he lets himself flop down too, straddling your ass & his face level with yours.

You both stay like this, him turning his head slightly to kiss your earlobe, his fingers moving the hair out of your face.

"You wanna get back in the shower then?" you murmur, getting your breath back, chuckling.

"I wouldn't mind that, we are sticking to each other, but I wouldn't mind staying like this." he hums back, smiling to mostly himself as he shuts his eyes, inhaling the smell of your skin, your perfume still a bit faint on your skin after all this time.

"n a mommy kink, Sungie? Who woulda thought." you tease, giggling. "Hey! if you liked it then who cares, its hot." he replies, him trying to hide the slight fluster in his voice.

->Anon list is open!

->Taglist is open!

#skz smut #stray kids #han jisung #han jisung smut #jisung smut #han jisung x reader #kpop smut #smut #han jisung fluff #skz #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #straykids x reader #straykids #straykids imagines

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ashsimpsalot · 3 days

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Mera naam... (Monkey man Kid X Reader)

A/n: uhhhh idk if I like it as much as coconut & honey but enjoy!

'you should never lie'

his mother once told him with angry eyes that he hated to see so much. When Kid was just 8 years old, he had lied to his poor mother about going to play near the river just in front of their humble home, instead, going off far away into the market because he wanted to buy the bangle she's been eyeing for a while.

He's been a proper good boy, he swore, he helped Mr Deepesh, their next door neighbour, by cleaning up his chicken coop for money. He didn't mean to worry her.

'You shouldn't lie to the people you love, even when you think it's for a good reason, a lie is a lie,' she had worriedly say while hugging her boy to her chest.

He didn't think those words would haunt him 20 years later. Kid didn't even mean to lie to you, he didn't even mean to fall for you, but he had, and his lies only bury him into a deeper hole.

"Bobby? You're ready to go?" your sweet voice snapped him out of his thoughts, the beer he's been nursing while you pack up the kitchen still in his hand.

"yeah," he nods, giving you a small smile. You wrapped your hands around his arm so easily as if you've been doing it for years, in reality it's only been 4 months.

4 months of lies

4 months of love

His mind wandered back to how he got here, with your hands wrapped around his arm, heading for your motorcycle. Was it that night? When he first entered his shift, he noticed you eyeing him. He didn't think much of it, you were a chef after all. You could've just been curious about the new staff.

Was it when he keeps staring at you too? Unintentionally?

But it's definitely when you start smiling at him. He's never had any other thought than revenge then this.. You... You happened.

"hey handsome, where's your mind travelling to?" you asked so sweetly he didn't even mind. Kid didn't know much about himself but he knew he hated when anyone else interrupt his thought process, not you though, never you.

Kid smiled and shook his head. "nowhere, right here," he covered it up with a quick peck on your lips and took your helmet from you, placing it onto your head and pinning it on for you, then with a stupid smile on his face he lifted the visor to boop your nose. You chuckled.

Fuck, is this love? This overwhelming feeling over the slightest thing you do?

He put on his own helmet and got on the bike, waiting till you get on too. His waist never felt so empty until you wrapped your arms around them.

4 months ago he didn't even have his own room, now he's heading to "our store" getting off the bike and ordering "the usual" and going straight to "our spot"

He doesn't even know who he is anymore.

Your kiss on his lips brought him back to reality.

"congrats, baby, on making it to VIP floor." you said with a smile on your lips.

If only you knew why he wanted to be on VIP floor so bad.

"thank you, jaan," he whispered softly, arms around your waist, swaying left to right lightly as if dancing to a song. He leaned down and kissed you again. "what's this? What's wrong?" damn you, you always somehow knew, your finger tracing his eyebrows as if to pull the frown out of his face.

He didn't know what to say. Tell you what? He's not at all who you think he is? He's plotting to kill a man? Burn the hotel? Kill one of the most influential fucking man in India?

"hey, you can tell me, Bobby, I'm here," you called that name so lovingly he had to physically fight from flinching.

In a perfect world where he isn't such a coward he'll open his mouth and tell you the truth but the truth is he's just that, a coward.

"i swear it's nothing, jaanu, just... Tired," he smiled and hugged you burying his nose in your neck, scared that he'll forget what you smell like once you find out who he is.

Your fingers snaked into his curls, playing with them like always, like it's yours, like he's yours.

"I've got you, always," you whispered into his ear, planting a soft kiss after.

He hope you meant that

Because after almost 2 months of disappearing, hiding from the police in the temple with the hijras, he's back, at your house, knocking.

You opened the door, you looked great but your eyes looks almost dead, somber.

"jaanu," that's all he could whisper, seeing you again is...

You tried to close the door but his reflexes made him able to hold the door open.

"please, please just let me explain myself"

You looked at him and scoff. "explain what? I don't even know who you are, what could you possibly say to me? What was your plan? Kill Rana and pin it on me or something? Is that it?" your voice gets shakier and shakier by each sentence, your grip on the door loosen. Kid quickly shook his head.

"no, no, never, jaanu," he had wrapped his arms around your crying figure, his body is half through the door, cupping your cheek and tenderly caressed your tears away.

"I trusted you! I loved you!" you cried out and all he could do was hold onto you while you smack your fists on his chest again and again.

"I know, i know," he whispered, he lead you inside as you limped against him.

On the couch he held you, tighter than usual, he lets you cry onto his chest, not caring about the condition of his shirt.

"you didn't call, you didn't explain, you just vanished, I thought you fucking died!" you cried out.

"I know jaan, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" thats all he can offer. He kept whispering apologies and sweet nothings into your ear until you end up falling asleep on his chest. He laid you down on the couch, planted a soft kiss on your forehead and went to the kitchen. Skillfully manoeuvring through your kitchen, making a meal as he's been there countless of time. He didn't keep track of time, only glancing at the clock when he hears a croak of your voice calling his 'name'.

"I'm here jaan," Kid said walking towards the couch to see your eyes teared again.

"I thought you left again," you said with a whine in your voice, he sat next to you, arm pulling your towards him to kiss your head. "I'm here," he repeated.

"I went to make you some food, it's pretty early I don't think you've eaten," he explained, you simply nodded.

"I... I want you to explain to me who you are and what's happening." you said voice beyond tired.

"my name isn't Bobby,"

"yeah no shit," you scoffed, he only nodded, he's glad really, you're letting him hold you, touch you that's a good sign, right?

" my name... Is Kid. I worked at Queenie's hotel because I'm... Plotting revenge on Rana and Baba shakti. For killing my mother." his voice grew quieter and quieter. The obvious pain in his voice when he mentioned his mother.

"my hands," you looked at those hands, his scarred hands he meant, the ones you would plant kisses on after a night of passion, the ones you loved so much. "they got hurt when I tried to put out the fire my mother was set on... By Rana Singh," he said, face grew harder, voice turned colder.

You stared into his eyes. "Kid," you tried calling his name. He looked at you, all attention on you as if nothing else matters.

"I swear I didn't mean to rope you into this. I didn't mean to hurt you, I couldn't... I couldn't stay away from you, I tried. You consume me, my thoughts, I've never thought of anything else but revenge all my life and you walked into it and make me feel alive again. As if I could have any other life than just death after revenge. I never wanted to live but when I hold you I feel this fear of death that I've never felt before. Understand that all was real, my feelings for you was real, is real," he begged, his hands on your cheeks again.

"but you tried to kill him anyway, why?"

He shook his head. "when I saw him. When I saw that bastard I lost it. Why does he get to live his life while my mother is ashes somewhere on the forest floor?" he grunted, face angered.

You do what you always does, your finger start tracing his eyebrows, his face visibly soften. Like he could breathe again. He took your other hand and kissed it, leaning into your touch. He had been craving you, and you knew. "you're going after him again aren't you?"

"yeah" was all he could breathe out.

You sighed but you understood. The rage he has, it's all he knows.

"will you come back?"

His face lighten. "you want me to?" he asks, hopeful.

"always, always come back to me."

"but I'll be a fugitive by then," he said worried, he's not sure worried that you'll change your mind or that you'll be a fugitive too if you chose to follow him.

You shook your head. "I don't care, come back, we'll run together, I rather not live without you by my side. But Kid.."

"hm?" he asked, looking at you intently with your hands on his. "don't lie to me ever again. Ever." you warned.

He nodded his head and pulled you into him. "never, jaanu." he kissed you deeply, deeper than he ever did that day, lead your body the way he missed. He devoured you full that day, passion spilling into physical touches. He need you to understand his love. He needs you to scream his name. His real name.

#kid monkey man #monkey man fanfiction #monkey man x reader #dev patel #monkey man fluff #monkey man imagine

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dandyshucks · 4 months

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what if... i made ship introduction posts.... haha jk... unless,,? 👀

#i've been thinking about it for like. a month now but was too scared still at that point #but now.... i think perhaps i can reveal some lore or like. mmm idk what word to use. ''worldbuilding'' ??#just lore i guess fhdsgjkl #BWAHH NOW I'VE SCARED MYSELF OUT OF IT AGAIN.... i'll just start making smth in drafts maybe 😭#dandy.cmd

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kakusu-shipping · 11 months

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I’m kinda insecure about one of my f/o’s because, 1. He’s a teenager (and I’m an adult), and 2. He’s kind of a meme character. I’m worried people will think I ship myself with him as a joke, but I’m not. I really, really like him!

This is the Internet and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks ever.

Well that's my go to response anyway, but I do understand the hesitation, especially with a canon minor character, feels like you gotta dance around certain people for that, and it makes the whole thing feel kinda exhausting. Though I'll say, it's probably not as scary as you think it is, it's easy to fall into this hole on the internet that if you make even the slightest misstep people will scream for your head, but it's really not that bad, I promise. Maybe I'm just lucky though, or off most people's radar.

The other half though, the worry people think you're self shipping with them as a joke? Honestly, if people think that, it's probably fine all things considered? Like I get it kinda sucks not being taken seriously, kinda hurts, but at the end of the day your F/O knows you're serious, and you know you're serious, and that's what matters.

Every character is someone's unironic Fictional Other. There are people out there who'd unironically want to Marry Shrek, or Nagito Komeda, or Sans Undertale and the Oncler together. And like!!! Good For Them!!! I love that for them!!! Shrek and Sans love them back!!

So if you're comfortable with it, take a deep breath, and love loud.

#Self Ship #Proship self ship #Proselfship #Honestly I keep temping fate but like #I have Never. Not a once. Gotten a mean anon for my shit #I've gotten a handful of 'Is this real' comments that I just delete #And one DM from an artist telling me my art isn't for them (blocked instantly of course)#But other than that if you just. Mind your business and sail your own ship #It's actually really easy to avoid people who'd get on you for something silly like the age of your FO #As for the meme side I wouldn't worry too much about that #You know I have Zack Binspin Moshi Monsters on my F/O list #And yeah the first time I talked about him basically everyone in my server made fun of me for him #(I think they meant it lightheartedly)#And it kinda sucked but like #There's been an ask sitting in my ask box for a few months now #From another person who ALSO has Moshi Monsters self ships #There's always like minded people and there's always someone who'll take you at your word #I'll be one of those people for you if you'd like to tell me some day!#Until then! Do your best to Love Loudly!#And even if you can't. Even if you're still hesitating or scared. Your F/O loves you all the same #You've got this!#I believe in you!#Do Whatever You Want Forever

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hyunin · 11 months

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saw that today (or yesterday?) was the anniversary of mixtape: oh aka hyunjin’s first appearance after his hiatus and maybe i’ll cry actually

#carly.txt #it has been TOO LONG since i made a post crying about this! it's been at least a month we can't have that!#sometimes i forget he was ever gone and then days like today it Hits and i just feel so so grateful that we have him back #i know i've said this before but there's a universe out there where he doesn't come back and noeasy and later stays #don't even know who he is #every time i think abt this i remember how scared i was back then that he wouldn't come back #so it's like !!! even if it's good not dwell on and Hurt over the past i also don't ever want to take him being in skz for granted u know?#like we are so lucky #we are so lucky that we still get to see him dance and hear his self-composed songs and watch him grow as an artist #alongside all of the amazing other skzes like :(( god i can't get over it!!!#i hope everyone treasures him and i'm glad ppl that became stays during noeasy and later didn't have to go through that time because #it rly hurt but #i also hope everyone knows!! that we are so so lucky to have him and know him in the small ways we do #and i'm so glad we never have to imagine what skz would be like without him and we have 8 amazing guys doing goofy shit together to support #and no less than that and i hope it's never less than that again #ok i'm done now #local hyunjinator loves hyunjin and skz etc etc boohoo

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nagitoedit · 8 months

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you don't have to read this is for screaming in the void

#trying to explain that i'm struggling without saying the big most important part of why i am struggling is .#like oh i'm struggling because uh . the issues. what are the issues? well . they are issues that i refuse to elaborate on #so it doesn't help anybody. but like how am i supposed to explain to my mom that the reason i've become so severely depressed is because #i'm suicidal. like oh btw ^-^ i hate the life you gave me and brought me into so bad that i want to die. but it's no big deal so don't worr #about it.#which like that wouldn't be how i meant it at all but of course that's also implied or something #which just makes me think of other things like that if things weren't so bad id be able to get help but help is inaccessible.#ughhhh i just hate this it's so agonizing. like cant things be a little less bad. i'm not having fun being like this and people are #reasonably irritated with me because only based on what i'm willing to tell just. isn't the full story at all and would obviously just.#not make sense because i'm leaving out major parts of what's happening and why.#and tbh i'm constantly going back and forth between like. coming out as suicidal. mainly because like. well. it kinda worrying me.#because for like months now i've almost daily been fighting off suicidal thoughts and often even having suicidal meltdowns #yesterday i was standing near a ceiling fan and was like hmm wouldnt it be nice if one of the blades came off and stabbed me through #the back of my skull and killed me. but then i thought no that would be too traumatizing for my family #as if me dying at all wouldn't be. which i also thought of. idk just thinking about the idea of #i want to live but not like this. because yeah. my mom said that she thinks reading bad news is why and it's like well . of course it is #but should i just stay completely unaware of what's happening in the world. but also bad news is just unavoidable #but yeah it is why i'm depressed. climate change racism homophobia transphobia covid wars economy etc like #these are things that i can't just. ignore? and am i seriously the crazy person for being upset about these things?#well she does think i'm crazy for still being scared of the dangerous virus that is currently the third leading cause of death in the us #like last night she was like ' it's good to be cautious but you're going over board' i'm friends with people who could die from covid.#'over board' i care about them and other people and i don't want them to die. i don't want to be permanently disabled by a virus with #a 20% chance every time i catch it to permanently damage my immune system and give me long covid. <- according to cdc #but whatever. i do genuinely want mental help. i think i need s different medication or a diagnosis bc uhmmm . i am unwell #but that's expensive.#i have an appointment with a doctor today for a med check because i don't think my ssri is working . obviously #as i am as you can tell absolutely overcome with severe and debilitating anxiety and depression. lolzors #whatever. except not because ouuuughhhgh <-unimaginable suffering #mypost

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magentagalaxies · 2 years

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me: huh why am i dealing with like. a disproportionately high amount of intrusive thoughts today. like i know i got a lil stressed over kids in the hall last night but that doesn't warrant this kind of mental reaction

*remembers i literally have a musical partially based on my experience with suicidal ideation as a teenager that i've been working on producing for the past three years of my life being released in nine days*

me: oh yeah forgot about that part

#suicide mention /#suicidal ideation mention /#intrusive thoughts mention /#other girls is such a weird fucking project to think about because like.#to be candid this post is the first time i've explicitly stated other girls is about a suicidal character #this is the first time i've admitted that i struggled with this shit like ever honestly???#because it's not an obvious part of other girls. it's easy to ignore #the characters never use words like suicide or depression. someone says anxiety like once.#and it's still first and foremost a teen comedy coming of age story #which is a weird line to walk #no one used the word suicide in a rehearsal until literally four days ago when we were blocking the ending #and it's a weird place to be wanting to destigmatize the topic while also being scared to say the word even in my own life #this wasn't even supposed to be part of the story it was literally my subconscious clawing its way out to give myself a chance to process #what i had been dealing with in the months leading up to draft two #but idk it's such a weird experience giving my younger self who was struggling way more than i am now a voice #bc it forces me to actually like live with zir and process these parts of my identity #instead of ignoring them #idk this probably got too personal. i'm having a weird time of it y'all

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melonn-soda · 5 months

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❝ PERSONAL STREAM (A Little Too Personal..) ❞

word count: 1.9k

warnings: subbot! cis male reader, domtop! cis male kamo choso, camboy! choso, slight dumbification?, praise kink, reader referred to as a size queen (term is used for a man), mention of edging (choso), mentions/descriptions of manhandling

prompt: congratulations! you just won a solo fan call with your favorite camboy! hope you have fun watching him getting off to you being just the goodest boy ever :)

notes: a gift for and and idea from @sooniebby I jus made it into a choso fic. I've been holding it off for a while now, I think. this isn't as good as had wanted it to be but it's fine regardless. not beta read, sorry not sorry

fem aligned dni

you can’t believe it.

you actually can’t believe what you’re reading right now.

in your email inbox, something you barely ever check unless needed to, had a message from the user of a porn website (not your proudest moment) that you signed up on just to watch his videos, telling you that you won this month’s drawing. you had to stand up, walk around, eat breakfast, and come back to your computer to see if it was still there. if it was still real. you swore you’ve never felt so excited yet so scared in your life.

to know that, somehow, you won that solo fan call, to know that he’ll be jerking off for you, to know that no one else can see him but you, talking to you, and- shit. you were getting hard. you looked back at your computer screen. the email is still there. you’re not crazy. you feel like you are though.

the roll of the cheap gaming chair you bought from amazon sounded muffled in your ears as you backed away from your computer, getting up to get ready for the day with that email still lingering like an itch on your scalp that you can’t seem to satisfy. you need to get to work.

your co-workers noticed the blank stare in your eyes as you slipped on your chef coat and pants, hands on autopilot as you tucked hair into your hat and tied the apron around your waist. it smelled of fresh detergent since they just washed your uniform. your friend had to even point out that you cut your finger when dicing onions because you were too out of it to even notice. or was it that working in the food industry made your fingers numb to the sensation since it happens so many times? ... huh.

when you got back home, you opened up the email again. it’s still there. it’s still real. did you want it to be fake? part of you says yes but the majority of you hoped not. i mean, you’ve been following this guy for.. what, months now? lord knows how much money you’ve sent to him. he wants to start the call at 7pm on discord.

you thought he might use something else other than that app but he was probably just using an alternative account and he most likely changes his user after every raffle. if you were him, you would do the same thing.

...

you should probably take a shower.

it was 6:40 and your hair was still damp with water, towel resting on your shoulders to catch any stray droplets from getting your shirt wet. you kind of wanted to back out. the fear of being one to one with the camboy you’ve been fantasizing about for a long while now was scaring you a bit.

fingers fidgeting with the paper stars littering your desk and your foot rapidly tapping against the floor, you watched the seconds go by on your desktop. your dominant hand reaches for your mouse and highlights his username to copy it and paste it onto the add user section, sending the friend request to see that he accepts it not even 2 minutes later. ...was he getting ready?

your webcam was sitting on your desk, not properly hooked onto the top of your computer. it was plugged in but you hardly ever use it so it just sits where it is. should you set it up? ..no, you didn’t feel like it. your mic was completely ready though, as always. you and your friends would always play together on call, so it was your most used piece of equipment.

4 minutes.

your stomach twisted in anxiety.

choso sighed as he applied lotion all over his torso, all too used to the way he prepared everything during streams and bonus videos locked behind an even bigger paywall. this sidegig he was doing felt like a chore sometimes but money was money, and by god did this account make him a lot of it.

lots of women flocked to his account, entranced by the way his voice stuttered whenever he close, his hips that instinctively jerked because his hand wasn’t able to move any faster, and the whimpers that teared into the mic when he came all over his hands and milked himself for all that he’s worth. they mostly talked about how perfect his dick looked but that was an average comment in his chat.

he saw the friend request notification pop up on his computer and figured he’d at least get his cock hard before the call even started. he put on some random porno in the background, stroking himself with little care and when he got half-hard, he figured that would’ve been enough. he accepted the friend request and close the tab with the video playing, looking over to see that he had 4 minutes until he would start the call.

fingers moving expertisley across the keyboard, he made sure to tell you that the first 30 minutes of this session was free, any longer and you would have to start paying up. you replied with a very short, “got it.” and left it at that. you seemed to type out something more before it quickly went away, causing choso to raise an eyebrow. were you scared?

35 seconds.

choso was getting tired of waiting, so he began the call. unbeknownst to him, you freaked out when you heard the ringtone rumble through your speakers, hesitating to accept the call. in the end, you did anyway because you didn’t have to pay for this private session for 30 whole minutes.

the half-curse’s hand went back to his dick, stroking it with barely any passion behind his movements. however, he wasn’t expecting to see the face of the winner from the drawing within 5 minutes of the call, teeth biting into his fist as his other hand’s fingers worked himself open. choso swore he was no longer half-hard, dick twitching to life in his hands, pre already leaking from the tip of his cock.

he was used to mostly knowing that women were behind the screen and heavily suspected that you might’ve been one- but fuck, to know that another man was getting off to his voice, his cock, drove him wild.

maybe he’ll get rid of that 30 minute rule.

you didn’t mean to turn your webcam on.

you could feel your stomach sink when you could see yourself on full display for the camboy in the discord call. it was too late to turn it off now. whatever. you only live once.

“aren’t you just the cutest?” you aren’t sure why you flinched but the way his voice carried those words certainly got you feeling things, “how about you turn your mic on too, yeah? wanna hear your pretty voice.”

shakily, the hand you were biting on reaches for your mouse and you click unmute. your fingers that were inside you accidentally pressed against your prostate, causing a loud moan to fall from your lips, immediately slapping your hand over your mouth to silence yourself. you don’t want to get a noise complaint from the neighbors... again. the first time having to explain that to an officer was embarrassing enough.

“good boy,” he grunts into the mic, bucking his hips up with a loud smack coming from his end of the call, “jus’ the sweetest little thing, aren’t ya? betcha’d be just absolutely adorable if i were to fuck you stupid. it hasn’t even been 15 minutes and you’re drooling all over your pretty fingers.”

you didn’t even notice that you’ve been panting so much that spit began to run down your chin, too absorbed in the way the camboy’s dick spilled even more pre over his massive hands. fuck, just how strong could he be? could he manhandle you? yank your head back using your hair as a handle while blowing your back out? shove you down on his cock because you simply weren’t riding him fast enough?

“you got a dildo on you, baby?” he asks you, his hand slowing down to a stop. his words pulled you out of your abundance of fantasies to shift your focus back into reality, vision a little blurry from the tears resting on your eyelids.

you managed to fumble out a small, “mhmm..” just loud enough for him to hear and he tells you to grab it. in a slight daze, you reach into one of your many desk drawers to pull out the toy that sat in its box, already cleaned from its prior use.

“do a favor for me, yeah? put it in nice and slow, imagine it’s my cock stuffing you full. how big ‘s your toy? five- six inches?” he sure likes to ask a lot of stuff, you notice.

“‘s seven..” you mutter, wincing when you push the toy inside your hole, stretching you full and your mind goes numb.

he chuckles, deep and breathy and shit- “so you’re a size queen? that’s what they call it, right?” he starts pumping his fist around his cock again, albeit slower than before. you would take a bet that he was edging himself, “that’s it. such a good boy f’me.”

legs quaking in place, you managed to get it all inside you. sitting on it was much harder on your chair than you anticipated, the current position you were holding getting uncomfortable. cautiously, you lifted your hips, wrapping your hand around your own dick and giving it a few strokes while breathy moans left your lips, slamming yourself back down on the dildo. your eyes widened in surprise as the tip of it pressed against your prostate, a loud whimper echoing throughout your room.

“fuck-! you’re so cute, mmph- k-keep going, baby. i’m getting close- ah!” you could see that his hand was moving much faster than when you last looked up at your camera, quick breaths and filthy pleas paired with the desperate thrusts of his hips.

stumbled cries left your lips when you began to keep up with his pace, fingers getting sticky with pre as you continue to stimulate yourself. through blurred tears, you could see his hips rut one last time before a stifled moan left his throat and his fist was coated with his cum, dripping onto his pants.

he winces at the overstimulation from just shifting his hand to let go of his softening cock, grabbing a tissue to clean himself up while watching you bounce up and down your toy. you could even say he was jealous. even so, he could tell you were pathetically chasing your own orgasm, breathy sighs escaping from the confines of your lips. eyes closed in slight shame yet concentration, your thumb came up to the tip of your dick and rubbed, causing a yelp to slip through and your eyes opened once more.

however, you weren’t expecting to see the gorgeous face behind the creator of all those inappropriate streams you’ve watched the second your hips slammed back down on the dildo.

“[name]..”

ropes of your own release spilling out of your dick, it finally registered in your head that the camboy was willingly letting you see this. your thighs quaked not only in nervousness but also in fear that you might get a boner again just from how handsome he was. his face was pale although dusted with a bright hue of red covering his cheeks, eyebags signaling a lack of sleep, he had some sort of black line going over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, and slightly messy black hair tied up into short ponytails. if he wasn't attractive to anyone, he was at least attractive to you.

his pretty and slightly plump lips opened to speak once more, “do you.. wanna meet up in person..?”

“h-huh...?”

#x bottom male reader #bottom male reader #male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #dom male character #top male character #jjk x reader #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #choso x reader #choso x male reader #jjk choso x reader #jjk choso x male reader #gay #mlm #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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lilaccmilk · 1 month

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@lulz-nematode-belmont ask and you shall receive 🫶🏻 and i'm sorry this took soooo long.

Since you were little you've always feared monsters and the dark. Especially the monster under your bed. But as you grew up, you managed to convince yourself that it was just a myth. But now, as you've moved to your new house, over the course of past few months, you feel that the monster under the bed thing wasn't just a myth to scare children.

You wake up in the morning, not even remembering when you went to bed, with bruises on your thighs and your pussy sore. You tried setting up a camera, but "somehow" the camera didn't record anything except darkness.

This time around, you're prepared to stay awake the entire night, so you get in your bed and close your eyes. After almost an hour, you feel your blanket being pulled down from over you. You remain still, and you feel giant hands on your thighs spreading your legs apart.

You feel a presence hover over you, and suddenly you switch on the lights, just to see a tall dark figure, he looks almost like a human, except he has a skin that matches the darkness of the night, his hair as white as snow. His face is pleasing to look at. Even the razor sharp teeth, you feel safe with him around, he starts to retreat wide eyed, but your voice stops him— "You've been visiting me?"

"Yeah" he replies kind of guilty. "I'm not....mad, just surprised" you laugh. "What have you been doing in your visits?" you add on. "I've been fucking you with my tongue. Couldn't resist" he speaks softly.

You blush at his straightforwardness about what he had been doing. Honestly you didn't mind, just hoped that you could've stayed awake while he was busy eating you out. "You're aroused?"he grunts. Your eyes widen, how could he sense that? You, yourself couldn't. "Am I?" you ask to no one in particular.

"Yeah, more so than the other days." he replies anyways. "Now what?" you question to him. "I can leave if you want me to, but if you want me to stay, just know you'll never get rid of me. You will be mine and I will be yours." he replies, his voice turning dark at the end.

You pause for a bit and then just say one word, "Stay." And all hell breaks loose, you're on your back, legs spread, shorts ripped apart and him face to face with your cunt. You try to close your legs out of shyness but he holds them apart, his voice rough as he speaks "Don't try hiding yourself from me, sunshine. You're all mine."

He then wordlessly licks up your pussy. His teeth carefully toy with your clit. He eats you out with so much vigor, it makes your back arch off the bed, and he pins you down by your hips to the bed. He gets so messy, it's like he's eating you out for his own pleasure rather than yours. He continues his ministrations on your poor cunt and you cum around his tongue. He keeps on going until you come 3-4 times more.

"I think that's enough for you tonight. yeah?" He speaks. You're too tired to say anything and wordlessly pull him closer to you to cuddle him.

#monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster smut #monster x human #tw teratophilia #teratophillia #terato #monster under the bed #monster #monster bf #monster romance #monster x reader #monster x you #tw monsterfucking #monsterfucking nsft #monster nsft

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 4 months

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Realizations

Dad!Simon Ghost Riley x Wife!Reader

Thank you guys so much for 1k, it means the whole world for me because now once did I expect to ever have my page grown this big and not once had I imagined that I would make these many friends here who happened to be so sweet. Also to @connorsui who has been most definitely been waiting the answer to this.

So in honor of 1k, I wrote this long awaited backstory for Ghost and Lovie (Ghostie's parents) that I hope you guys will enjoy since it so happens that our beloved @ave661 has posted another Dad!Ghost render. (Credits to her again for the renders in this post <3) (Sweetie, I love you but that tag on Soap with this render was unnecessary 😭🫶)

To the people who congratulated me, through replies, likes and reblogs, I owe y'all a fat kiss. Mwahhh <333

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @thesnowurzikdjinn @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies @demidemon09

Warnings/Disclaimers: Stalking (not by Simon), Typical mentions of CoD violence?, Mentions of Simon's past abuse, Creepy guy?? (Not Simon), Mentions of violent and a bit gory descriptions on what wanted to do to the stalker, This is not proofread yet.

With the words of my mother and in true reputation style, Are you ready for it?

I think I need to say this on my account again, English is NOT my first language and all copyrights regarding the plot and some characters within the storyline belong to me. Edit: please help me y'all, I'm losing so much relevance in the span of less than a month, my recent works have gotten nothing and I'm scared that this post proves that. I think I've learned my lesson never to take breaks ever again 😭

Simon never imagined himself in this predicament, always thinking that he'd be out there somewhere, more likely drowning himself in a mission. Not even a home, he thought that if it hadn't for your persuasiveness to interact with him back then then he'd still be back in that shitty apartment complex.

Simon placed his duffle bag on the wood of the porch, the jingling of his keys while he looked for the correct one. He tried his best to make as little noise as possible, it was passed midnight, the last thing he would want was to disturb his wife and daughter from resting.

Hauling the duffle bag in and throwing it on the couch, Simon opt to see what his girls were up to. The giggling and commotion making him smile, you both were supposed to be asleep by now but you were unable to put her to rest because she's just too hyper, so that left you to entertain her by tossing her up and catching her.

"Dada..!" A squeal from the room came, the little one snapping her head to the opening of the door making you look as well, Simon took a peek from the half-way opened door.

Adorable little thing clapping her hands together, pleased that her dad is home while sitting on her mom. She got off, crawling near the edge of the bed with no sense of danger, fortunate for her that her dad is quick with catching her before you could.

You took a deep breath from the shock, looking at your husband and smiling sweetly at him. He asked you not to get off the bed as you were about to, laying next to you he snakes his arm underneath you on your waist and pulls you in.

"I missed my girls.." He said, voice deep and laced with exhaustion, despite that his hold and gaze was the warmest it could be.

"We missed you too Si, so much." You mumbled as your eyes flutter shut to enjoy his touch. You opened them to the sound of a kiss, he kissed the little one's forehead then yours.

Sometimes you vaguely remember the first time he and you met, how it even came to be, this life of domesticity. You, him and your little girl, family is a heavy word for Simon but it was just perfect. This was the family he wanted, the family that he thought he didn't deserve and never would have.

The feeling of coming home to all this started because you were so forgetful, who knew that would be the skill that brought you to him..?

• ──── ✦ ──── •

He emptied his pockets, to the lieutenant's dismay, the box of cigarettes only had one stick left. Since he was going out to smoke it anyway, he might as well get another box from the convenience store nearby. He took his keys from the kitchen counter and headed out, hearing a little commotion that peeked his interest.

Simon never paid much mind to whatever was going on within his apartment building despite the many gossips that were present within the building and the renters. So it happens that the old lady next to his place mentions how they'll be a new tenant in the other apartment next to his.

'Thank God' Simon thought, not that he was particularly religious but he'd been hoping for the longest time for the former renter to leave because let's be honest, who wants to live next to a frat boy with no sense of shame or consideration given that walls are thin? Little did he know he'd be blessed with the next one..

"Oh- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to.." Simon hears a voice from a little below him, he'd only register what had happened after the fact. Poor girl carrying this box bumped into him a little too hard, so much so that she stumbled back a bit.

You stared up to the 6'4 man blinking, he only shrugged it off to which you smiled to. You tried to make small talk since you were new and it wouldn't hurt to at least know one person right? After all, you were trying to step out a bit of your comfort zone.

"Hi.. I'm [Name].." He only stared at you for a while and replied, "Simon.." you gave him a warm smile before nodding and continuing to bring the boxes into your new apartment while your new neighbor entered the elevator.

You cut the boxes open to start unpacking, a few minutes in and you decided to go on a short break, you rummaged through the small box of food only to find that the recently bought box of tea was empty. You sighed at this, humming as you remembered the convenience store you passed by earlier on the way to the apartment.

Taking your keys and locking the door behind you, you made your way out the complex and walked a few blocks, you only started to notice how late it was with the streetlights coming on even though the sun is only about to set. That's something to get used to, hmm?

The cool breeze hits your skin as you enter, scent of faint instant coffee and many other kinds of foods and products made themselves known. You walked around for a while, checking on what other things you might need but then you tried to remind yourself that you were saving up and on a budget so you took a box of tea and walked up to the register.

You heard footsteps behind you falling in line, after placing the box on the counter, you searched your pockets for your wallet.

'Shit..!' you cursed yourself out mentally trying not to panic as Simon basically watches you frantically patting your pockets, you left your wallet back at the apartment. "You left your wallet-" Simon stated the obvious, "I'll cover it.." there wasn't even a time to argue with him, he just stepped next to you and placed the pack of cigarettes.

"I'll pay you back as soon as we get back to the apartment" You insisted to which Simon only shrugged and declined, it's just a box of tea and it's not like it'll make him go bankrupt, besides he liked your taste, the one you got happened to be his favorite brand.

Since you were headed in the same place anyway, you and Simon walked back together side by side, however one thing you did find odd was when he gently took you wrist and pulled you inward next to him, he was the one now closest to the road.

The walk back was silent, a comfortable silence. A few days after that encounter, you made sure to make an effort for him to know that you appreciated his gesture back at the convenience store. The lieutenant was alarmed by the knock on his door, opening it to find no person but a tupperware filled with buttery shortbread cookies.

He smiled at how tiny the plastic container looked in his hands, how he noticed the note attached "Thanks for the tea, this isn't that special but I hope you like it -[Name]" and the Sanrio themed stickers stuck onto the lid and on the top part of the tiny note. You ran out of sticky notes..

Simon found himself snacking on those cookies later on, oddly enough, they reminded him of his mom.. how she used to love baking back then, it was her way of escape whenever Simon's "father" wasn't home, as well as gardening.

For the first time in a while Simon "Ghost" Riley let out a smile that wasn't smug or a smirk but a genuine smile, one that had warmth to it, one that no matter how hard his mind tried to surppress it, his body refused to.

It didn't take long for you and Simon to get to know each other a bit, little by little it seemed like you two were becoming like friends rather than just neighbors. Let's be honest, who just randomly gives their neighbors weekly baked goods for the sole reason of "just because they wanted to"?

You found yourself always looking forward to the Friday nights chilling with him at the rooftop, mugs with hot tea on hand while he smoked and you read.

Listening to his stupid jokes and remarks that slowly turn into deep conversations and life things. Simon was just... far more open than he's ever been, sure he's talked about his day before to his comrades but never like this, not in a way where he's pouring his heart out, letting you in on how he feels about certain things.

He just got back from a mission, a rough one to be exact. Shoulders slumped from exhaustion as he walked the streets near the apartment complex, no space for his bike so he had to leave it somewhere private while he fidgeted with it's keys.

Simon swore that he almost jumped out of his own body, first instinct being to push you off but he recognized you. He gave you a questioning look, hands were shaking as you so desperately linked you arm around his.

"Hmm?" He hummed, hearing you mumbling something but it was incoherent to his ears.

"Behind us.. please Si, help..." Come to think if it, you never knew when Simon turned into Si. Best believe he knew and still remembers when perfectly.. not the time, there's a serious threat, he didn't look. He didn't need to, guessing by the heavy footsteps, some creep decided to follow you at this hour.

He slowly slipped his arm away from your grip and snaked it around your waist, pulling you in closer to his side while the two of you continued treading closer to the complex. You closed your eyes for a few seconds at a time hoping it would end.

• ──── ✦ A few days later ✦ ──── •

Knocking, frantic knocking was what Simon heard at his door. He wasn't expecting anyone, so why the sudden visit? He opened the door and saw you, Simon knew something was off from the look on your face, you looked pale as if you were sick to your stomach while trying so desperately to catch your breath.

"Can I please come in.. Simon..?" You asked in between breaths. You looked around you, especially behind you, body shivering a bit. He took notice of this and had no hesitation, he pulled you in by your arm. His grip firm but gentle, Simon closed the door behind him.

"Remember that guy who was creeping around when I asked for your help..?" You tried to explain but Simon already knew the moment your mouth opened. You had a stalker.. it was best to call the cops on shit like this.

Simon did his best even though not knowing much about how to comfort someone, he did well in making you feel safe without having to tell you that he'll do so, you just know it in your gut that he'd protect you even if it's just now.

Your breath picked up, slowly backing away from the door as you heard footsteps, clenching your fists and hoping that he didn't see you enter Simon's door. Simon wrapped his arms around you, keeping you in place and from further backing away from the door.

You felt his palm drag up and down your back, it was extremely warm, it stopped for a while. His arm wrapped around your waist, other hand in your hair pushing your head down a bit so it was buried in his chest while you gripped his shirt. Simon felt your trembling body against him slowly relax.

"Deep breaths, angel.." The nickname he whispered would've made you smile under any other circumstance but not right now, you needed to calm your nerves before you panic and make an impulsive decision that could hurt yourself. Like instructed, you followed along Simon's demonstration, pressing his forehead onto yours maybe just a bit too intimately.

You winced at the loud sound of banging on the door, you knew it too well. Simon shoved the handle of his combat knife in your hand, he told you that if anything were to happen, protect yourself with it.

As soon as the Lieutenant swung the door open, you could hear punches, things knocking over and among other things, your stalker's voice.

You'd never forget that, how pitchy it was. Nails on the chalkboard was the best way to describe it, how the man was cackling almost made you annoyed. Simon called on security and the man was dealt with, you came out from hiding and saw both fear and anger in Simon's eyes.

You would never know how much he wanted to tear that man's heart after skinning him alive for even bringing fear into your eyes.

Simon "I care too much for someone I just met" Riley finally saw how his knuckles and fingernails were caked with blood, went off to go wash it and himself.

Getting back to you after half an hour, you reached out for him only for him to withdraw, you looked at him confused and he looks at you with pure guilt..

Your eyes widened in realization, "Oh Simon.. I'm not scared.." you smiled at him. He reached out a shaky hand to you, hesitating before closing his hand back.

You took his hand in yours, bringing it up to your lips and giving it a small kiss, hoping it calms his nerves. Well it did the opposite, it even more overwhelming for him having you kiss his palm while you look up at him, watching you nudge your face into his palm so invitingly.

The way your lashes just sat perfectly atop your cheeks while you slowly blinked up at him. Pressing the same scarred and calloused hands that almost killed a man that night on your face and rubbing the back with you thumb.

Simon had never felt that much guilt before for hurting someone, only after he saw the look in your eyes, which in turn were not something he caused. For the first time in his life too, Simon was comforted by something or rather someone immensely..

1K notes · View notes

smileysuh · 2 months

Text

ghost house

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You stand up, going to inspect the out-of-place panties lying next to your hamper. When you bend down, you see a translucent sort of outline, and it’s not your own spunk marring the fabric. It’s undoubtedly ghost cum, which is the oddest thing to realize- and you’re pretty sure it’s fresh. Your skin tingles at the notion. Somewhere in this house, Hyuck is coming down from a recent orgasm that he’d clearly achieved by using your panties. You’re a witch, but this is sinful, even for you.

tw/cw. Voyeurism, unprotected sex with a ghost, Hyuck is a repressed perv, he’s not a virgin but he’s not experienced either, pantie sniffer Hyuck, Hyuck watching y/n masturbate using ghost powers, Hyuck using y/n’s panties to cum in, weird ghost cum, Hyuck is a switch but leans more submissive at parts, self asphyxiation/choking, y/n punishes Hyuck for being a naughty ghostie, making Hyuck watch her masturbate without touching himself, fingering, oral (f receiving), pussy drunk/addict hyuck, overstimulation, hair pulling, hyuck cums and y/n decides to keep riding him, hyuck likes to be choked, dirty talk, hyuck has a good boy kink, praise kink, degradation/humiliation, finger sucking, face riding, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (Haechan’s) ghostie, baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 8.3k

🍭 aus. ghost!hyuck, witch!reader, supernatural au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I've never written Hyuck this subby/switchy, but I think it worked, he still has his dom moments, but this man is a near virgin, little, repressed for 20 years ghost shit head who wants to be told he's a good boy, and I'm not even mad about it

Prologue:

“It’s a little unusual for prospective tenants to bring a pet along,” the shy man showing you the house murmurs, watching the way your cat follows you through the halls of the old building.

“Well, it’s important that Pluto likes it here,” you muse, casting your gaze down to your little dark shadow as he darts here and there, chasing orbs and specks of dust that illuminate in the rays of sun streaming through the murky windows. “How long has it been since you had a renter?”

“Too long,” Mark Lee sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “In all honesty, I’m sure you know the reputation this place has.”

“It’s the Ghost House,” you respond, turning to stare at the relative of a man who’d lost his life in this location twenty or so years ago.

“My family hasn’t even tried to rent it out in recent years, but then you found me on Facebook and asked for a showing, I figured, what could it hurt?”

“I guess you don’t believe that this place is haunted?” you inquire, studying the tired, mundane man while Pluto curls around your feet.

“I haven’t spent enough time here to decide what I think,” Mark admits. “My family needs income, and if you’re willing to rent this place out, for half of what you could find anywhere else, we’d love for you to take it. Ghosts, or no ghosts.”

“I’m betting on the ghost aspect,” you tease, looking down at Pluto and following his gaze to a shadowy form at the end of the hall. “I’ll take it.”

One

You’ve been in your new Ghost House for over a month, and in that time, Hyuck has realized you’re no ordinary tenant.

It had started with the way your cat reacted to him, following him around, not scared in the slightest. And then, Hyuck had noticed the way you’d tracked your black cat Pluto with your own eyes, using the animal to try to focus in on Hyuck himself.

At first, he’d thought you were some sort of clairvoyant or wanna-be ghost hunter, but then, you’d pulled out a Grimoire and a cauldron and Hyuck had realized you were more along the lines of a witch.

When you’d first moved in, Hyuck had relished the idea of haunting you out of the house, but now he finds himself to be the one that’s haunted.

He can’t get a moment's peace without your cat following him all over the place, and where your cat goes, you quickly follow. Hyuck has taken to going to the attic, where the door can’t be pushed open by a determined kitty. He fucking hates the attic.

He’s sitting amidst some cobwebs, contemplating how badly he’d fucked up in life to get to this situation, when the attic door creaks on its hinges.

Your head pops through the hole. Your gaze shifts around, and Hyuck could swear your irises look exceptionally feline-esque when they land on him. “Why are you hiding?”

You can’t actually be talking to him. You can’t actually be seeing him- it shouldn’t be possible, and yet, here it is, happening.

“Come now, Donghyuck, are you skulking?”

“Fuck off,” he mutters.

“Is that any way to speak to a witch who’s here to help you?” you laugh.

You’d definitely heard him, and the realization makes a cold shiver run up his spine. Hyuck stands up, approaching you. He waits for you to flinch or pull away, but you don’t, you simply watch him until he’s a few feet away.

“How are you seeing me right now?” he asks.

“I’ve been testing out spells with personal objects of yours that I’ve stumbled upon in the house, nothing works quite like a photo, I’ve found,” you explain. “It’s good to finally see you. I’d hoped to meet you properly within the first week, but it’s been a whole month now of us living together, which feels awfully rude of me.”

“What’s rude is your stupid cat following me around everywhere.” When Hyuck takes a peek down the attic entry manhole, he finds your feline friend at the foot of the ladder, looking up at him with inquisitive eyes.

“Pluto is just doing his job, he was raised to see spirits. The Roman God of the Dead is his namesake after all.”

“The Roman God of the Dead?” Hyuck’s nose scrunches up in distaste. He flunked grade twelve, not that Roman deities were on the learning agenda.

“Forget about it, would you like to come down and talk with me for a while? Now that I can see you and communicate, I think we should have a chat.” You study him carefully. “Although, I will note that until I find a better spell, I’ll only be able to see you like this until your photo stops burning, which could be ten minutes or twenty.”

The pathological demand avoidance in Hyuck makes him want to refuse you, but at the same time, he hasn’t spoken to anyone in over twenty years, not since that night when everything had gone so wrong-

It helps that you’re a cute girl.

With a sigh, Hyuck agrees, following you down to the living room where he finds a makeshift alter, his picture in the center of it, its edges charred. The space smells like some sort of incense, Hyuck can’t pin it, and for the first time in twenty years, Hyuck actually feels something akin to fear.

As the Ghost of the House, Hyuck has always been the one with the power. He’s been the one who scared off the first few tenants with knocks late at night, phone calls in the early hours, and even wearing a sheet to scare off the children young enough to be susceptible to seeing him.

But in this situation, sitting on the nicest chair in the room, your cat lounging on your lap, Hyuck realizes that the power of a ghost is no match to that of a witch. You look like a Goddess, or a queen- energy radiating off of you now that you’re near your alter, and it makes Hyuck’s skin tingle.

“So?” Hyuck asks after sitting in uncomfortable silence for what felt like ages.

“So?” you echo, quirking a brow.

“Why are you here?” he clarifies with a huff of frustration. “Why are you trying so hard to communicate with me?”

“I’m mostly here because the rent is less than half of what I could get anywhere else, and it’s a whole house, so that felt like a no-brainer in this economy,” you laugh. “Although, seeing as you’ve been dead for over twenty years, I’m not going to give you a lesson on rent increase and the cost of living in this day and age. As a witch, I thought this would be a very interesting house to live in, and I’ve been trying to communicate with you, because the way I see it, you’re practically my roommate. We share this house, and I’d like for things to go smoothly.”

“Smoothly,” Hyuck lets out a laugh.

“If you’d rather I exhume your remains and send you to Hell, that can be arranged too.”

Hyuck feels his throat go dry.

“That’s what I thought,” you grin. “So what do you say, roommates?”

“Fine. But I’m tired of the attic.”

“You put yourself there,” you point out.

“Look, you be nice to me, I be nice to you,” Hyuck suggests. “Fair?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Ghost boy.”

Two

Living with you actually isn’t so bad. Hyuck’s gotten used to Pluto following him around, but you generally keep to yourself, and he appreciates that trait.

Sure, you get up to witch mojo, and the house smells like all sorts of herbs and shit half the time, but Hyuck has taken to living mostly in the room that used to be his own. He prefers the south-facing space to the dark attic, and although life is boring most of the time, it’s still better than whatever afterlife Hyuck could expect as a man who accidentally took his own life at the ripe age of twenty-three.

Sometimes he likes to come see what you’re up to. He’s taken to watching you cook breakfast and dinner for yourself. You play music he’s never heard before, and the way you shake your hips always has his heart racing.

Pluto notifies you of his presence, but without an alter burning, he’s pretty sure you can only see his outline at best. You clearly don’t mind an audience, and Hyuck spends hours every week simply enjoying you.

It’s interesting to have a roommate that acknowledges him, a roommate that keeps the peace. But at the same time, part of Hyuck misses his old poltergeist ways.

You’ve reformed him. He’s a reformed ghost now, and Hyuck isn’t quite sure what to make of this peaceful living arrangement. It’s much more peaceful than things had been when he’d been alive.

He’d never had a girlfriend. Never had someone to create a sense of belonging, and somehow, he finds that much-needed peace with you. He wonders what life could have been like if he hadn’t taken those drugs that fateful night, if he hadn’t been so lonely that it hurt everywhere, if he hadn’t tried to dull the ache with pills.

“Come on, Donghyuck,” your voice draws him out of his pining thoughts, and you turn from the soup you’re making to stare in his general direction. “I can see your outline, dance with me. You always just stand there and stare, be a good Ghostie Boy, and shake your ass a little.”

Your words make Hyuck’s skin heat. He’s a ghost for Christ's sake, you can't go around objectifying him like this-

“Just a lil swivel,” you grin, showing him with your own hips.

Fuck. You’re hot. You’re so fucking hot, and Hyuck is tired of pretending you’re not.

He begins to shimmy, and he’s rewarded by a melodic giggle that escapes you and fills the kitchen. “That’s it,” you encourage him. “I know you’re not used to this kind of music, but it’s fun!”

Hyuck has to admit that he’s been enjoying the crash course in new media you’ve been giving him. From music to movies to books he haphazardly reads over your shoulders- this new age is something else, and it’s full of uncensored raunchy sex that makes him hornier than he’d ever been when he was alive.

The music you’re listening to is full of explicit lyrics, lyrics about eating pussy, and a pretty girl riding a man’s face- it’s been driving him wild, and in the late night hours, when you’re peacefully asleep one room over, Hyuck hasn’t been able to help himself.

He’s been stroking himself to the thought of you lately. He’s wondered what you’d taste like, what your body would feel like under his hands- He wonders what faces you’d make, the sounds-

This life is a little bit of Heaven, but a little bit of Hell too.

He can’t touch you, can’t taste you, can’t fuck you the way he’s been wanting to-

Leave it to him to fall in love with a sexy witch and add to his own torment.

Three

Hyuck can hear your whimpers through the wall. The sound makes his entire body tingle, and before he can stop himself, he’s shrugging his jeans down and wrapping his hand around his aching cock.

Your sex drive hasn’t been as… intense as his, in fact, he’s not sure if you’ve ever touched yourself since you moved in. Or maybe, you’ve just been quiet, it’s hard to tell.

When you’re in your room, Hyuck gives you privacy. Pluto would probably alert you to his presence if he ever did try to get a look at you naked, and Hyuck doesn’t want to risk your witchy wrath.

But tonight? Fuck, hearing your sounds makes him want to risk everything.

Going to Hell would be worth it for a look at your form.

The ghost shuffles closer to the wall, taking deep breaths as he strokes his aching cock.

One peak won’t hurt, will it?

Hyuck doesn’t often walk through walls or make use of his ghostly powers, but it’s simple enough for him to push his head through the wall. He just goes as far as his face, keeping himself half-suspended in the barrier between rooms.

Your space is dark aside from a few candles burning, and it takes Hyuck a moment for his eyes to adjust. His gaze lands on you, tangled amidst your bedsheets.

You’re naked, head dipped back against the pillows, one hand between your thighs while the other pinches at your nipples.

Fuck, Hyuck almost busts then and there. He has to stop the motions on his cock, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

Pluto is nowhere to be seen, and with your eyes closed, the room mostly dark, Hyuck doubts you’d see his outline even if you did look directly at the one space along your wall that he’s watching from.

This is the perfect scenario for him, and he licks his lips as he watches the way you tease your clit, letting out soft whimpers.

You’re wet, Hyuck can see how wet you are, and it makes his mouth water with need. His cock throbs as he begins to slowly stroke it again, teasing his thumb along the tip.

The way you’re pinching at your nipples is making the ghost want to mark you up with his teeth. He wants to bury his face in your chest and lick you, sucking your perky-looking buds until you’re begging for him-

A movement of your other hand captures his attention, and Hyuck watches as you slide one finger into your core, releasing a moan that has his entire body shaking.

One digit quickly becomes two, and as you stroke your inner walls, the sound of your wet heat becomes audible to the fly on the wall, who pumps his shaft even harder.

Your hips begin to wiggle against your own touch, and Hyuck wonders how good you’d look on top of him, writhing against his cock-

You release your breast in favor of playing with your clit, both hands now between your beautiful thighs. From the sounds escaping you, Hyuck thinks you’re close, and his entire body aches. He tries to slow himself down, he wants to match your speed, wants to reach that climax with you-

Something brushes by Hyuck’s leg and he jumps, tearing himself out of your room to look down at the cat who’s appeared by his foot. “Fuck, not now, Pluto,” he hisses.

Pluto purs in response, and with an exasperated sigh, Hyuck decides to ignore your cat. Fuck it, he needs to cum, and he needs to be watching you cum-

Pushing his face back into your room, Hyuck manages to catch you just in time to see your back arch. A soft gasp of contentment leaves your lips, your hands shaking as your orgasm rushes over you-

Hyuck can’t help himself, his own body simply reacts, his cock throbbing intensely as his own release hits him. He bites down on his lip, pumping his shaft with his eyes glued to your form.

You ride out your orgasms together, and yet, apart.

You’re a scary witch, but you’re none the wiser about the ghost voyeur committing every one of your movements to memory.

Finally, Hyuck can’t take the sensation anymore, and he stops, pulling his head out of your room. He’s no stranger to ghost cum, it’s this odd, translucent goo-

When he looks down after pulling up his pants, Hyuck realizes he’s sprayed the wall, and narrowly missed Pluto, but the cat is looking at his spunk as if he can see it-

Hyuck’s never had an animal in the house before. He knows that usually, his ghost jizz disappears after a while, but if the cat were to try to touch it-

“Pluto, no!” Hyuck whispers, trying to block the animal with his hands.

The cat has brushed by Hyuck before, so Hyuck’s pretty sure the cat won’t go through his hands-

Instead, Pluto tries to go around Hyuck’s hands, and the ghost’s heart lurches in his cold chest.

“Fuck, stop!” he says, voice getting louder.

The cat meows obnoxiously, and Hyuck hears a sound in your room-

Hyuck doesn’t have time for this, he’s not about to get caught one room over after you’ve just orgasmed. The ghost does the only thing he can think of doing, he jumps down to the ground to hide behind the bed.

Luckily, Pluto seems more interested in him than his ghost cum on the wall, and begins to follow. The bedroom door is pushed open, drawing Pluto’s attention from following Hyuck.

“Pluto?” you call. “What are you doing in here?”

Hyuck can feel his heart in his throat, and he cowers further under the bed, afraid that if you see any of his shadowy figure, you’ll exorcize him or something.

There’s a few moments of tight tension, and then Pluto pads away from Hyuck to join you at the door.

“Silly kitty,” you coo, picking up your pet. “Let’s go make you some dinner.”

The door closes behind you and Hyuck lets out a deep breath.

That had been much too close for him.

Four

It’s been about a week since Hyuck watched you finger fuck yourself to completion, and he’s doing his best to avoid you. He gets a half-chub every time he looks at you for Christ’s sake, and while part of him feels justified in his voyeurism - he is a ghost after all - another part of him feels dirty about it.

Hyuck feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders every time you leave the house, and today, he watches you get into your car and drive off before he heads to your room. He’s been curious about a few things, but you hardly ever leave the property, so he hasn’t had the time and the balls to follow his wishes until now.

Your bedroom door is closed, and it’s as easy as stepping through it for Hyuck to invade your space.

He tries to calm himself, tries to take his time looking at items you’ve collected. There’s a stack of books that thrum with power, he stays away from them. Jewels and crystals litter a vanity table also covered in various perfume bottles, and Hyuck bends down to smell one, overcome by the scent of florals that always follows you through the house. Lastly, Hyuck goes over to the laundry hamper.

The ghost is overjoyed by what greets him. Sitting on top of a pile of sweaters, is a lacy thong. Hyuck sinks to his knees, bending over the hamper and bringing his nose as close to the panties as possible. He takes a deep breath, eyes closing as the scent overwhelms him: this is so much better than florals.

Now he really feels dirty, but there’s something so freeing in it. He’s a dirty little ghostie, and Hyuck is beginning to revel in it.

He’s been a spirit for so many years, and he’s gotten adept at poltergeist-type activity. Sure, he’s usually only ever used it to throw books around, or open cupboards, or… you know, wear bedsheets to scare the shit out of the kids who show up and trespass around Halloween, but… grabbing a pair of panties shouldn’t be that hard.

With a shaky hand, Hyuck reaches into the hamper. He focuses his energy to his fingertips, and after a deep breath, when he touches your panties, he can feel the lace. Hyuck lifts the fabric out of the hamper, collapsing onto his knees next to it and shimmying his pants down.

Then, he wraps his panty-clad hand around his cock, throwing his head back to let out a sigh of relief. There’s something so sexy about jacking off using your underwear as friction- there’s a small, juicy spot along the fabric, and Hyuck’s majorly tempted to lick at it, but he feels like that’s a line he shouldn’t cross.

Instead, he pumps his cock harder, letting out soft whimpers. Hyuck’s head lolls forward again, chin tucked down to his chest. His eyes open so he can stare at your cute panties as he strokes himself off with them, and the sight alone has his dick twitching.

Hyuck grits his teeth, his abdominal muscles flexing with effort. He can’t help but rut toward his hand now, and each stroke of your lacey thong against his aching cock has him closer and closer-

There’s a sound downstairs, and it makes Hyuck’s heart leap in his chest. You’re home again already?

He tightens his grip on his length, determined to cum before he gets caught. He can’t stop now, not when he’s so close to a much-needed release-

As the sound of you coming up the stairs limits his time more and more, the idea of getting caught actually adds to Hyuck’s pleasure. Before he knows what he’s doing, one of Hyuck’s hands is raising to his throat. He throws his head back, applying just a bit of pressure- it’s enough to have him grunting, the cord in his stomach snapping as his orgasm takes over.

Waves of pleasure wash through his entire body, his grip tightening on his throat and making it all the more intense. He can feel his spunk shooting onto your panties, which he holds over his tip as he pumps his aching cock, getting out every last drop-

He can hear you humming as you come down the hall, and in Hyuck’s post-orgasmic haze, he doesn’t have time to think. He simply drops your panties on the floor and stumbles to his feet, stepping through the wall just as your door opens.

He collapses again in the other room, pulling up his pants and trying to catch his breath.

Five

It had been a quick run to get cat food for Pluto, and when you arrive back at your room, you hardly even notice that something is out of place. First, you open your blinds, peaking out at the evening setting sun. Then you go to sit on your bed to take off your socks, as you’re about to toss them to your hamper, you notice something on the floor.

It’s a pair of your lacy panties, and you’re a hundred percent sure they hadn��t been on the floor when you’d left.

With your bedroom door closed, Pluto couldn’t have gotten into your things, which leaves one culprit.

Hyuck.

You’ve suspected the ghost has had a growing crush on you for a while, after all, he is a man who’s been alone in this house for years, but this is your first real evidence of it.

You stand up, going to inspect the out-of-place panties lying next to your hamper. When you bend down, you see a translucent sort of outline, and it’s not your own spunk marring the fabric.

It’s undoubtedly ghost cum, which is the oddest thing to realize- and you’re pretty sure it’s fresh.

Your skin tingles at the notion. Somewhere in this house, Hyuck is coming down from a recent orgasm that he’d clearly achieved by using your panties.

You’re a witch, but this is sinful, even for you.

For a moment, you simply stare at your panties, and then, you decide to do something about it. Going to your Grimoire, you open to a page bookmarked by multiple photos. They’re pictures of Hyuck that you’d found in the attic. You’d saved them for a rainy day when you’d need to contact him with a full-body apparition again, and it looks like today is the day.

Grabbing the largest one, you take the photo and your Grimoire down to the alter in the living room. While you have an alter of sorts in your bedroom, the one powered by the direct sun on your table by the south-facing window is the most appropriate for something like this.

You make quick work of a spell to bind the ghost to the waking world, and with a last few sprinkles of spices and some dried herbs, you place the photo in the center, using a lighter along the bottom edge.

“Hyuck?” you call, turning toward the room. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

You hear someone whisper, “Fuck,” and you turn to see Hyuck scampering toward the staircase.

“Are you seriously going to make me chase you?”

“Don’t exorcize me!” he screams, taking the stairs two at a time.

His words make you laugh. “I have a different type of exercise planned,” you retort, but it doesn’t do anything to slow him down. “Seriously, Hyuck, calm down!”

You make it to the second level, and you know where he’s snuck into. He may have closed the door quietly, but you’ve lived with the ghost long enough to know which room he’s staked a claim over.

Taking an amused breath, you knock gently. “Hyuck,” you sing-song, “I’m not mad. Just let me in.”

“You’re gonna exorcize me.”

You sigh again. “Hyuck, open this door, right now.”

You hate to use your dommy-mommy voice on him, but he’s trying your patience, and you only have as long as it takes for his photo to burn, which, due to your magic, probably gives you about half an hour, give or take.

“If you do not open this door, I will open it for you, and your punishment will be worse,” you warn him.

A moment later, the door creaks open ajar, and you push it the rest of the way.

“I’m sorry,” Hyuck tells you, standing there with his shoulders hunched.

“For what?” you enquire, leaning on the frame and crossing your arms over your chest.

“For running.”

“And?” you prompt.

“For uh…” you watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly, bowing his head, “for uh… using your panties.”

“Using them how?” You’re kind of enjoying watching him like this. He might have his own weird kinks, but this might just be one of your own.

“Well, you know…” his skin is turning pink.

“I don’t know. I want you to tell me what you did with them. Don’t leave out a single detail you bad ghost boy.”

Hyuck’s gaze lifts to meet yours, but he’s quick to look away again. “Well, I mean, I was just looking at them at first.”

“At first. And then what?”

“Well, I just wanted to touch them.”

“Liar,” you scoff. “I bet you wrapped them around your cock and jerked off with them, didn’t you?”

Hyuck’s ears have turned pink now, and when his hands go in front of his body, you realize he’s trying to hide a half-chub that’s growing in his pants.

The little freak is into this.

God, he’s endearing.

“Admit it,” you instruct. “If you admit it, I’ll go easy on you.”

Hyuck takes a breath. “Yes, I used your panties to cum.”

You study the ghost.

“Good boy,” you say finally. His eyes lift to meet yours, his lips parting. “Come to my room.”

You don’t wait for him to respond, you simply turn and expect him to follow. When you get to your room, you collapse onto the bed.

“Close the door,” you instruct next. “Be a good boy and light my candles for me too.”

As he begins to follow through with your commands, you stretch, letting out a sigh from the feeling of your tight muscles. Then, you lift off your shirt, tossing it at Hyuck while his back is to you, his fingers fumbling with a lighter.

Hyuck freezes, then turns to look at you.

“Have you watched me before, dirty ghostie?” you ask, going to remove your pants next.

The way he swallows tells you everything you need to know.

“Well, you are a bad, naughty, dirty, little ghostie, aren’t you, Hyuck?” you grin, tossing your jeans at him.

Laying in your bra and panties, you watch him finish lighting your candles, then he comes to stand at the foot of the bed, clearly waiting on instruction. He’s trying to cover the front of his pants again, and it makes you laugh.

“Move your hands,” you tell him. “You know, honestly, I’m a little surprised at how easy it was for you to get hard again. You came, what? Ten minutes ago? Fifteen?”

He’s so bashful he can hardly answer, and it’s an adorable sight.

“Here are the rules,” you say, “I’m going to make myself cum. After that, I’ll let you make me cum. And if you can get through all of that teasing without touching yourself, if you can prove to me you’re a good ghostie who can follow instructions, I’ll fuck you. How does that sound?”

Hyuck’s gaze watches your hand slip between your thighs, your legs opening wider, and he unconsciously licks his lips. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay… mistress?”

You laugh at his attempt to please you. “I was looking for a thank you.”

“Right, yeah, thank you, I can follow instructions,” he fumbles to correct himself.

“Then be a good boy and put your hands behind yourself. I don’t want you touching anything. Don’t want you covering anything either, got it?” Your words come out breathy as you begin to stroke your core through your panties. “I especially don’t want to see your hands all shaky, that’s just embarrassing, ghost boy.”

Why are you enjoying this so much? Why are you enjoying the degradation of a man who died over twenty years ago?

From Hyuck’s reactions it’s clear he’s never been spoken to like this. Sure, domination and submission were things back in the day, but there must be something about your specific 2020’s brand of degradation-

Hyuck slots his hands behind his back, letting out a deep breath.

“Good boy,” you coo, pushing your panties to the side so you can touch your pussy directly. Teasing him like this has already made you extremely wet, and it’s easy for you to glide your digits up and down your soaked slit, drawing soft circles on your clit.

“Can you see from there, ghost boy?” you sigh, spreading your legs even wider.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I don’t like Mistress or Ma’am,” you admit.

“I’m sorry.”

If you got him to call you Goddess you’d risk hubris, so instead, you tell him, “Call me princess.”

You’d considered ‘Angel’ as a term of endearment, but with the deities you pay tribute to, even that had felt like a step too far. No, Princess works- You feel like a royal girlie who’s having fun with a servant boy, abusing the power you hold over him, for mutual benefit.

“Okay, princess,” Hyuck breathes, and you can tell from his reaction that he enjoys the feeling of the word on his tongue.

You like the sound of it coming from him too, and you throw your head back, getting more comfortable against the pillows. You tease one of your fingers into your wet hole, stroking your sensitive inner walls.

Hyuck lets out a shaky gasp, and you grin to yourself, keeping your eyes closed so you can enjoy the sensation. Although that doesn’t stop you from saying in a sing-song voice, “You better not be touching yourself, ghost boy.”

“I’m not, princess, I promise.”

“Good ghostie,” you coo slipping another finger into your pussy. You open your eyes to look at him. His gaze is fixed on your core, and he’s got his bottom lip pinned between his teeth. “Is it a nice view?”

“The best view in the whole world,” Hyuck breathes, almost panting.

“Should I make myself cum so you can finally touch me?”

“Fuck, yes please, fuck, yes-” Hyuck’s eyes meet yours, and you see the desperation, it’s practically throbbing off of him in waves. “Please, princess, I wanna watch you cum.”

“You’re being such a good ghostie for me,” you muse, pulling your fingers from your core and holding them out for him, “Come here, have a taste.”

Hyuck falls onto his knees on the foot of your mattress, grabbing your hand with both of his and drawing your digits to his mouth. He sucks on them, his eyes fixed on yours as his tongue licks and strokes your skin, cleaning up every drop of your juices.

“Now back to your spot,” you prompt, pulling your hand away. “The moment I cum, you can join.”

You watch him swallow thickly, and while he doesn’t talk back, Hyuck is clearly reluctant to get back to his feet, standing at the edge of the bed and watching you.

His hands go behind his back, and when he’s in proper form, you slowly slip your panties down your legs. Then, you throw them directly at him. They land on his shoulder, and Hyuck turns to look at them, breathing deeply.

He’s rock hard in his pants now, and the sight turns you on as you bring both hands to your core. You begin to finger yourself while you rub tight circles on your clit, your toes curling at the sensation.

“Hyuck,” you whimper, arching your back, building the pressure deep in the pit of your abdomen.

“Princess-” he echoes, sounding even more desperate than you are.

You open your eyes, staring directly at Hyuck as you work yourself closer and closer-

“I’m gonna cum,” you tell him. “Fuck, I’m almost there, almost there, baby-”

Hyuck releases a moan at the new pet name, and you can see him twitching. He’s doing his best to follow your instruction about not moving until you’ve cum, but you can see it’s getting harder and harder-

You let out a gasp, your orgasm slamming into you, and that’s when Hyuck finally pounces.

He wastes no time jumping onto the bed, burying his face between your legs while his hands grab at the flesh of your thighs, fingers digging into your skin. His mouth devours your core as your orgasm surges through you, and each lick and suck has you crying out, muscles tensing as Hyuck intensifies your high.

Your fingers thread in his hair, and he groans when you tug on him, unrelenting in his task of eating you through your orgasm. The ghost is eating you like a man who’s been starved of pussy for twenty years, and you suppose that’s accurate, so can you really hold the whole pantie-sniffing thing against him?

You’re not sure how he does it, but one orgasm that you’d given yourself quickly becomes a second orgasm that Hyuck has coaxed out of you by sucking on your clit, and you gasp loudly as it slams into you, riding the tail end of the first high.

“Fuck, I’m cumming-” you whimper, thighs tensing around Hyuck’s head-

He simply pushes them apart, tongue diving into your hole to stroke your walls as they spasm around him. Hyuck groans, and the feeling of the vibration on your clit has you whimpering even louder, your grip tightening in his hair.

“Hyuck-” you moan, pushing at his head, “I’m done, that was two-”

“I want three,” he tells you, taking his mouth from your pussy so he can suck marks along your inner thighs. “Can I have three? I’ve been a good ghostie for you.”

“You can have three when you bury your cock inside of me,” you tell him with a laugh, your body still buzzing in the after-effects of two orgasms that had happened in quick succession.

“I want three now, and four when I’m fucking you stupid, princess.”

Well, this is a switch-up.

He’d been so subby before, but one taste of your pussy has him trying to be more dominant? Fuck it, you don’t even mind, the words that have just come out of his mouth are too hot to even handle, so you let out a small, whimpered, “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” he prompts, teeth grazing your inner thigh.

“Make me cum one more time with your mouth before you fuck me.”

Hyuck doesn’t waste any time swiping his tongue along your slit again. He flicks at your clit and your thighs shake around his head, your nails dragging softly against his scalp.

Your hips begin to wiggle, and Hyuck looks up at you, holding out his tongue and staying still so you can grind against him. You toss your head back, closing your eyes as you ride his tongue, using him for your own pleasure.

Hyuck groans, tilting forward just enough for his nose to bump your clit, and your muscles clench at the stimulus. You’re sensitive after two orgasms, but fuck, Hyuck feels so good.

“I just want you to fuck me,” you confess, relaxing back against the bed again while Hyuck takes the cue to begin to lick your pussy. “Make me cum so you can fuck me.”

Hyuck practically growls in response, his lips suctioning around your clit. Your legs quiver around his head, thighs squishing in on him- this time, instead of pushing you away and spreading you open, Hyuck allows you to practically crush his skull, his fingers digging into your soft flesh.

“Hyuck-” you whimper, body beginning to shake as he focuses all his attention on your clit.

There’s no pushing the ghost away, no crushing his head with your thighs- he’s locked in on his target, and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.

Your moans fill the space, your back arching as he sucks your clit closer and closer to another high-

Then, out of the blue, one of his hands snakes up to your throat. Hyuck adjusts so he can squeeze your neck, his tongue flicking at your clit, his breath hot against your skin-

The pressure on your throat makes your entire body freeze for a moment, mind short-circuiting- and when you’re able to think again, all you can think about is the pulsing between your thighs as your orgasm crashes into you like a bullet train.

You whimper, the sound obstructed in part by the hand still gripping your throat. Your own hands fly to Hyuck’s wrist, encouraging him to apply even more pressure as you begin to thrash under his touch. Your hips are bucking toward his face, your pussy throbbing like it’s never throbbed before- and there’s not even anything filling you.

Your clit feels amazing, but your poor inner walls have been neglected, you’re aching for something to throb around, aching for an intrusion in your sinfully wet hole-

“Hyuck, please,” you gasp, letting out a shuddery breath when he pulls his mouth from your core, looking up at you. “I need-”

He squeezes your throat tighter, cutting off your words. Then he begins to kiss up your body, finally making it to your lips. He stops just a millimeter away, looking down at you as he releases your neck. It’s as if - even after all of this - he’s asking for permission.

You throw your arms around the back of his throat, tugging him the final distance to your mouth. His tongue clashes against your own, and you can taste your pussy there. Your core throbs, and Hyuck begins to grind down against you, rolling his hips expertly.

“Fuck,” you groan, breaking the kiss so you can shove your hands between your bodies, pushing at his pants.

Hyuck, meanwhile, begins to mark up your neck in love bites, his fingers slipping under your back so he can unclasp your bra and tear it off.

You’re naked for him now, and you make quick work of his pants, briefs, and shirt. You’re caught in a whirlwind of need, kisses, and touches. Finally, he’s slotting himself between your thighs again. This time, when he grinds against you, his bare cock glides past your clit, and your legs shake, your fingers clawing at him.

“Do it,” you encourage him, gasping as he kisses your throat. One of your hands snakes into his hair, massaging his scalp. “Fuck me.”

Hyuck reaches between your bodies, grabbing the base of his cock. He begins to tease his head along your pussy lips and you both groan at the feeling. “Princess-” he moans.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “I’m ready, I can take it. You’ve been such a good ghostie being patient for me and making me cum- it’s your turn. Use me, baby, fill me up.”

He’s panting against your neck, and he pulls back to look down at you. You can tell there’s hesitancy, but a need too, and when you grab the nape of his neck to draw his lips to yours, you feel his body immediately relax.

He presses the tip of his cock to your tight hole, and as he kisses you, he begins to push into your pussy.

You groan at the feeling of him. For an average-sized man, his cock is no laughing matter. He’s thick, stretching out your inner walls with each inch that sinks into you.

Your thighs quake around his hips, and Hyuck licks at your tongue, moaning and kissing you until his front is flush with your own.

Only then does he break the kiss, rubbing his forehead against yours. “Princess-”

“I know, baby, it feels good for me too,” you assure him.

He grabs at the pillow next to your head, squeezing it roughly while letting out a shuddery breath.

Your pussy is still throbbing, trying to accommodate his large size, and when he buries his face against your throat, beginning to thrust, your entire body lights up with pleasurable energy.

“Fuck,” you groan, closing your eyes and stroking his shoulders, “Just like that.”

He picks up his pace, fucking you harder and harder until your bed begins to rock against the wall with each rough motion from his hips.

Hyuck continues his barrage on your throat, licking your sweet spot while you mewl into his ear, holding him tight. One of his hands sneaks up between your bodies, grabbing at your breast. He pinches your nipple between his fingers, rolling it and panting against your skin.

“Hyuck-” you whimper, pussy throbbing around him, earning a deep groan.

“I don’t know if I can hold it,” he admits, pulling away to look down at you with beautiful chocolate eyes.

“Then don’t hold it,” you tell him. “Just don’t assume we’re done when you’re done.”

His gaze darkens, his plump lips parting in a silent question. Instead of saying anything else, you draw him in for a kiss, wrapping your legs tight around his hips.

The hand that had been on your breast finds your free hand, fingers lacing as he presses you down into the mattress, fucking you even harder.

Each thrust has him hitting perfect spots, and the way he’s rolling your hips adds stimulus to your clit, which throbs with sensitivity.

The throaty moans escaping him are driving you mental, and the way his tongue strokes your own has you dizzy with lust.

Your other hand tangles in his pretty hair, tugging gently, dragging his mouth away from yours so you can begin to speckle his throat with kisses.

Hyuck lets out an absolutely sinful moan, and you realize he’s very sensitive in this area. It makes you want to make it even more, so you begin to suck small purple marks into his flesh while he shakes above you, bicep muscles flinching with effort.

“Keep fucking me,” you remind him. “Want you to cum.”

Hyuck squeezes your hand, his pace picking up again.

“That’s it, ghost boy,” you coo, licking his throat. “Cum for your princess.”

He lets out a strangled gasp, thrusts faltering. A moment later you can feel his cum filling you up, and it makes you moan, your core throbbing with desperation. You need one more high, and you’re sure he’ll help you get it.

Hyuck rides out his orgasm, and then he collapses on top of you, his lips seeking out your own.

You allow him to kiss you for a while, cock still buried deep inside of you. Then, you begin to stroke his body again, making him shiver.

“Can you roll onto your back for me, ghost boy?” you prompt, looking up into his eyes.

Hyuck is quick to comply, and you can tell from the way his lips part, that he’s not expecting you to mount him as soon as he’s on his back. You put his cock back inside of you before any cum can drip out, and you sit there, staring down at him with your hands on his chest.

“Your recharge time is pretty good, isn’t it, ghost boy?” you tease, gently rolling your hips while he whines, grabbing your thighs from the sensitivity. “I bet I could just kiss you for a few minutes, and you’d be rock hard again in no time.”

“Princess-”

“You want to please me, don’t you, baby?” You trail a finger down his chest, teasing your nails across his abdomen and watching the muscles jump there under your touch.

“Yes,” he admits.

“And I think we both deserve to cum one more time, don’t you?”

He nods again.

You lean over him, pretending you’re about to kiss him, as his eyes flutter shut, lips parting in anticipation- you push his face to the side, attacking his neck instead.

“Fuck,” Hyuck groans, grabbing at your hips, squeezing you.

“Such a sensitive neck,” you muse, lips moving to his ear where you lick the shell, enjoying the way he shudders. “I wonder if I just…” you slip one hand up his chest, and Hyuck immediately arches his head, giving you full access to wrap your fingers around his throat. “That’s what I thought.”

Hyuck whimpers below you, hips pushing up, looking for friction-

“Did that make you hard, ghostie?” you laugh, sitting up and looking down at him. “Just a little choking and you’re already good to go again?”

This poor man has been repressed- you’re happy you’re the one who gets to free him.

You begin to slowly move your hips, and Hyuck lets out a desperate moan, arching his head back even more. You tighten your grip on his throat and he responds by digging his fingers into your hips, urging you to ride him faster.

He looks so good like this.

Then, one of his hands moves, his thumb finding your clit. Your core throbs around him and you both moan loudly. Hyuck opens his eyes, looking up at you.

“You’re being so good for me,” you tell him, rutting faster on his cock. “Make your princess cum.”

He rubs your clit harder, beginning to buck up to meet you while you ride him.

Then, Hyuck pushes your hand from his neck, sitting up so he can latch his mouth onto your breast. He holds you close, wrapping his arms around your lower back and moving you on his cock. His teeth skim your nipple and you cry out, threading your hands in his hair and moaning in his ear.

He groans in response. This new angle has your clit rubbing against him, and you ride yourself to an intense completion, your head thrown back when your orgasm rushes over you.

As you cum, Hyuck flips you onto your back, taking over and thrusting into you with newfound energy. Your pussy throbs around him as he fucks you stupid, and when he buries his face against your throat, marking your skin, he cums too.

You can feel him shoot a second load deep inside of you, coating your walls to the point of nearly being too full, but part of you kind of loves it.

You hold him as he fucks you through your highs, listening to his panting and whining.

Finally, he stops, all but collapsing on top of you, lips feverish against your skin.

You pet his hair, trying to catch your breath.

You’re cognizant of the fact that you don’t have all the time in the world for aftercare, and you’d rather talk with Hyuck now than address a shadow.

“Ghostie?” you whisper.

He releases a grunt.

“We don’t have much time left,” you say sadly.

He pulls away from your throat, looking down at you.

“Listen,” you cup his face, “being interested in a ghost the way I’m interested in you has never been something I saw for myself in this life,” you admit. “But, I am interested in you. I only have so many pictures of you that I can use to make you physical like this, but I’m going to find something to make this longer lasting, I promise. Until I do… I’m okay with you sniffing my panties, or watching me masturbate, or anything you want-”

Hyuck cracks a smile at your words, and you find yourself giggling as well.

“So you’re not going to exorcize me?” he jokes.

“Never ever,” you promise.

“You’re going to find a way for us to be together,” the ghost says softly.

“If anyone could find a way, it’s a witch like me,” you assure him, leaning up to press your lips against his.

He kisses you gently, and you get lost in it.

You’re not sure how long you stay lip-locked, but after a while, the feeling of his lips disappears. You open your eyes to find yourself alone, well- you can still see a shadow of him, but his warmth is gone, and the sensation of his kisses too.

You sigh. “I’ll find a way, ghostie,” you promise.

You’d like to think he responded, maybe with a word of encouragement, but there’s no way to know for sure.

Rolling onto your side, you imagine him behind you, close but unable to physically touch.

Leave to a witch to fall in love with a ghost.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! writing this style of Hyuck was way too satisfying

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🔮 preview. Hyuck kisses you, grabbing your face as he does so. You can taste something unsaid on his tongue, but you do your best to ignore it as he pulls you from the sink, turning you around until your bum hits the island table. He lifts you up, setting you onto the old wood, then, he sinks to his knees. You’re wearing a dress, Hyuck loves dresses, they make it easy for him to have access to your pussy. He’s downright kitty obsessed these days, lifting up your skirt just enough to get under it. His lips make contact with your panty clad core and you let out a sigh of relief, leaning back on your palms and letting your head fall backward.

cw/ tw. Dominant leaning switchy Hyuck, unprotected ghost sex, kitchen sex, sex on a table, pussy eating, fingering, pussy obsessed Hyuck, slight ghost angst, hair pulling, choking, praise, dirty talk, kitchen quickie, multiple reader orgasms, mentions of dark magic/bones, panties as a gag, finger sucking, sex while wearing a dress, etc… I petnames. (hers) princess (his) baby

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.2k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 staring. Hyuck x afab!reader

bonus

The answer to your ghost conjuration problem had been shockingly simple. If burning a picture could draw Hyuck to your existence for as long as it was alight, you realized that burning one of his bones would last substantially longer.

Most crematoriums burn bones at 1000 degrees Celsius for two or three hours. At a much lower temperature, using a Bunsen burner set to 300 degrees, you could burn one small fragment for a lot longer.

The worst part was going to the graveyard across town, with no one but Pluto as company, under the light of the moon in the dead of night to exhume Hyuck’s body. It’s been so long since his death that you weren’t worried about finding anything other than bones in the casket, and with a spell, you didn’t even have to put in the effort to dig- but something about uncovering Hyuck’s supposed ‘final resting place’ just hadn’t sat right with you.

You’d been aware, as you had driven home with a bag full of bones, that you were teetering on the side of a darker shade of magic. But for love, you decided not to care.

The first night you’d lit up a small bone, Hyuck had appeared right behind you, and the two of you had fucked on the floor right next to the altar.

It’s been three or four months since you began to burn Hyuck’s bones, and your lust for each other hasn’t diminished.

He’s insatiable, and you are too.

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melbatron5000 · 2 months

Text

It's a 2-man Con

Listen, I think I know a thing.

When Aziraphale comes back from talking to the Metatron and is telling Crowley about being an angel, we've all heard the theory that he's speaking code, trying to ask for help. The more I look at that scene, the more that theory tracks.

Maybe less well-known is the theory that Crowley didn't miss a damn thing, he's answering in his own code. And again, the more I look at that scene, the more this also tracks.

(When my husband, annoyingly observant beloved partner that he is, saw the second season for the first time, he said, "That whole thing was a show for the Metatron. They have a plan. Crowley slipped something to Aziraphale when he kissed him." And I said, "Nah." But now I think he's right, and damn if he isn't smug.)

I'm gonna try to break down what I think they're saying here, because it takes just a hot minute to piece it together. I've been thinking this over for a couple of months now. I think I have most of it. I just don't know when Crowley puts whatever he's handing to Aziraphale in his own mouth. I need more eagle-y eyes, it seems.

First, Aziraphale comes back from his talk. He's pensive as he crosses the road, and anxious when he starts talking, and mouths "I need help!" as he's talking. He's acting like he does when he lies to the other angels, and once it's seen "I need help!" is pretty clear.

He does the whole thing about telling Crowley he could appoint him as an angel, like old times, but even nicer. It's all very uptight and not positive at all. My interpretation? "The Metatron is here, I think he knows we're up to something, we have to go to Heaven right now and put things right before he really does something awful to one or both of us. The time to spring the plan is NOW."

Crowley stares at him. At first it seems like he's staring in disbelief, but if you really look at his face, he's listening, hard, and interpreting as fast as he can:

He asks Aziraphale if he told the Metatron where he could stick it, then. My interpretation? "The plan has changed. I can't go with you to Heaven. You'll have to go alone."

Then Crowley starts his confession -- "We've spent our existence pretending we aren't."

Aziraphale looks at him -- not with shock, or surprise, or love, or hope, but with a "Why are you doing this now?" face. Not "Why did you wait til now to tell me, you love me, oh, I love you too!" But "Why are you telling me SOMETHING I ALREADY KNOW while our ENEMY IS LISTENING??" :

He's confused, but also listening and interpreting. What I'm hearing/seeing: I don't think this is a love confession from our demon. I think they are both well aware they love one another. They can't say it in so many words, and it's a secret from Heaven and Hell, but it's not a secret between them. I'm hearing Crowley set the scene. "The Metatron either wants us together in Heaven under control, or separated. I have things I have to do here or the plan won't work, so we'll have to separate. We need to make it look good. I do love you."

I don't think Aziraphale likes this change of plan. And Crowley can't detail why the plan has changed, not with the Metatron listening. So Aziraphale insists, come with me. The plan we had will work. Do it my way. Crowley says, "You can't leave this book shop." It's easy to interpret that as "You can't leave me," but I don't think it's that. He's saying something about the book shop being safe, or even that he can't leave without whatever they've hidden in the book shop. (I THINK THEY HID SOMETHING IN THE BOOK SHOP!) Aziraphale says, "Nothing lasts forever." I hear him saying the book shop is no longer safe, and they have to move/take whatever they've hidden and they can't speak freely there anymore.

Crowley replies, "No I suppose it doesn't. Good luck." He's gotten that much, but he is still set on his "We need to fake a break up because I can't go with you."

Aziraphale still doesn't like that. "Come back! I need you!" He's scared. Whatever he has to do in Heaven is big, and scary, and he needs and wants Crowley with him. He does not want to go into the mouth of danger alone.

This is when we get, "No nightingales." What I'm hearing? ESPECIALLY since if you listen, you can hear a LARK sing as Crowley goes out the door? It's the line from Romeo and Juliet, by Shakespeare, whose plays they both enjoy, though Crowley prefers the funny ones. "It's too late, that's a lark singing the dawn, not a nightingale singing to the night, we have to part. Our happy ending isn't yet."

Then the kiss. I do not believe this is their first kiss. I don't believe they've allowed themselves many, maybe not even more than one, but I do think they've kissed before. I'm not sure when, but I suspect 1941. (Season 3, come ON!!)

And when they part, Aziraphale stops himself from saying "I love you," and instead says, "I forgive you." I'm hearing so many things in that "I forgive you." I forgive you for leaving me on my own, I forgive you for hurting my feelings like this, I forgive you for changing the plan without telling me, I forgive you because you are forgivable whatever anyone else says, I forgive you because that's what I said when we split up at the bandstand and everything was okay in the end and I hope hope hope that everything will be okay in the end this time too.

Crowley says, "Don't bother." I'm hearing, "yeah, I hope it's all okay, too. Wish me fuckin luck. My part will be hard, too."

And as Crowley leaves, Aziraphale mouths, "No." And we hear a lark sing. A lark, singing to the dawn, and so fair Romeo must away.

Just because the break up is a ruse, doesn't mean it doesn't hurt and isn't hard. It has to look real, and so it's going to feel real, too. Ouch. :'(

And then Aziraphale touches his lips. Not once, but twice. My bad, he only touches his lips once. The first long second is pure emotion. "Why now, I hate this, I want that so badly and I can't have it."

After that, though --

After he pulls himself together a bit, he has a bulge in his cheek. He shifts his jaw to move whatever he has in his mouth to his lips, and then his first two fingers go stiff for a moment as he palms something right before he takes his hand away.

And then, this.

Edit to add: someone on Facebook asked me why a kiss to pass whatever Crowley gave to Aziraphale, why not palm it or drop it in his pocket?

My answers: 1. The kiss is a message. "We're still good, I still love you, I still want this." 2. The item is too important to be dropped in a pocket and hopefully found later. 3. The Metatron is paying WAY too close attention, and will definitely see them touch hands. Seeing a kiss and the angel rejecting the demon, though? Well, the demon forced that kiss on him, the angel didn't want it. Clearly the demon thinks this relationship is different than it is. It's a bigger gesture that sells the ruse. 4. Houdini's wife used to pass him the keys to his cuffs with a kiss before the show. This is a message that magic-loving Aziraphale WILL understand: here are the keys to your cuffs, sneaked to you by your beloved in plain sight.

That's it. That's what I got so far. I still have questions.

What did Crowley pass to Aziraphale? What's the plan? Why did it change? What does Crowley need to do that he can't go to Heaven again?

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziracrow #final fifteen #ineffable divorce #good omens fan theory #2 man con #they have a plan #they played the metatron and we fell for it #the kiss

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aphrogeneias · 4 months

Text

...right? — one-shot

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (modern!au)

summary: you're not sure of where you stand with eddie munson, but you're forced to confront your feelings after almost losing him.

word count: 3k

warnings: fluff and angst with a happy ending. jealous!reader. feelings of self-doubt. eddie munson is a sweetheart.

author's note: this one has been a long time in the making, and it may be a little melodramatic, but i'm doing a lot of self-projecting here, so be nice. thank you to @intrepidacious for reading it for me and giving me your approval <3 i'm sorry to all the girls named emma reading this, but i had to give that character a name.

We're performing tonight, if you want to stop by.

You'd been staring at this message for a couple of minutes now, unsure of what to do. You seemed to be in this dilemma a lot, as of late — to answer or not to answer, to show or not to show.

Too scared to show how you felt, but too scared to lose him at the same time.

Zoned out, you caught Robin’s hand flying in your direction from your peripheral. “Stop looking at your phone!”

She snatched it from your hand, still open in your conversation with Eddie. Robin whistled when she took a look at your screen, “Oh, I see. How are things with Mr. Headbanger?”

“You're talking to Eddie?” Chrissy chimed in from her side of the bed, lifting herself on one elbow to see you better with Robin between you.

The three of you had been like this all night, spread out on Chrissy’s queen bed, a sequence of old romantic comedies playing on her TV. There was an empty pizza box on her fuzzy carpet, and a half finished bottle of wine next to it, the second of the night.

You groan, trying to get your phone back to no avail. “Things have been… well, I think. Too well. I guess I've just been waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Then, it was their time to groan.

Your friends like calling you jaded, but you consider yourself a realist.

It's been a topic of conversation between you for years. Ever since your last relationship ended, after you'd been left for another woman, when you swore off love for good — at first, they thought you were just grieving, it would take time to heal, of course, but you never really did.

You don't think you've ever been anything other than an open wound, in that sense, even before your ex. The high walls that were meant to protect you eventually became a prison you couldn't get out of. A princess and a dragon, all in one.

That is until Eddie Munson came into your life.

No one's ever made you want to drop those walls as much as he does. You'd met him through Chrissy, who’d been his friend since high school, and at first you thought he wasn't really flirting with you. He seemed to always be flirting with everyone, always getting a little too close. Until he asked you out, and you were still not convinced.

It could be a friend date. He could be after one of other friends. Maybe he was just passing time until he found someone better.

That was a few months ago, and Eddie hasn't gone anywhere.

He had a few shirts on your place, merch from various bands which you were growing fond of listening to them in his car. Shirts you would wear to bed when he wasn't spending the night, curling into bed with his smell on you. He'd made friends with your cat, and fixed your coffee in the morning the way you liked it, and left strands of hair loose in your shower.

A brave knight, that Eddie is.

Despite your closeness, and the honesty you see in his eyes whenever you're near him, neither one of you has put a name on what you have. It keeps you up at night, thoughts about calling him your boyfriend and have him laughing at your face. How could you be so stupid?

The thought of it brings tears to your eyes.

“What if that's it, though?” Chrissy interjects, with a gentle voice. Her small hand reached for yours, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “What if there's no other intentions, no other shoe to drop? You have no reason not to trust him.”

“You say that because he's your friend.”

“Chris is right, babe.” Robin says, sitting straighter on the bed. “He’s never given you any reason to think like that. You need to let yourself go, just this once.”

You sigh, and mumble something along the lines of “Easier said than done,” as you sit up and pull your knees to rest your chin on them.

“You should go, by the way.”

Robin reaches to you with your phone in hand, handling it back to you. Her blue eyes are kind, understanding. Chrissy smiles from her place between you.

“Our local rockstar is waiting for you.”

You respond Eddie with a short omw <3 before your friends are pushing you out of your stupor, and into the street.

They’ve already finished their set by the time you arrive at The Hideout.

You're dressed entirely inappropriate for a dive bar full of metalheads and middle-aged bikers, but you don't let yourself think too much about it because no one really notices you coming in, except for the bouncer who compliments you on your old college sweatshirt.

The night is well beyond starting. The bar is full, and it takes you a while to find Eddie, but when you do, he finds you immediately.

He's at the foot of the stage, talking to his friends. The rest of the band is around too, and you wave at them as Eddie makes his way towards you. The smile that pulls on your lips is uncontrollable when he, with an excited smile of his own, takes you in his arms, wrapping himself around you. “Hi! You just missed the show!”

“I'm sorry! I was at Chrissy’s.”

You take a second to look at him closely. His wild hair is a little damp, and his Accept shirt has the sleeves cut off, which shows more of his tattoos. There's a studded belt on his hips, and you don't think too much before pulling him closer by it.

Eddie kisses you on the forehead, and his lips linger a little bit before pulling away. “Did you tell her I said hi?”

“Forgot to. But next time I'll make sure to send your regards.”

When he's close like this, you almost forget your doubts. When his arm is around your shoulders and he's pulling you close, the smell of his cologne and the last cigarette he smoked before going on stage cling to you, and you cling to it in turn.

“Good, and make sure to arrive on time next time too because we played your favorite and you weren't here.” He pouts dramatically, putting one hand to his chest.

The gasp you let out matches it. “Metal Health? Eddie, no!”

“Eddie, yes!” He shakes you a little, turning you in the direction of the tables. “We played Quiet Riot, and you weren't here to see it. Have to say I'm a little disappointed, sweetheart.”

Walking along with him, you stop when you reach a vacant booth on the corner. Turning to face him fully, you leave a soft kiss on his stubbled chin. “I guess you'll just have to keep playing it, then.”

“Does that mean you'll come to every show?”

There's no space between the two of you, standing chest to chest with each other. The rest of the bar disappears. “I might, if you'll have me.”

“Baby, I'll…”

The bubble you find yourselves in shatters and breaks when Eddie stutters, and turns, because there is someone poking him on the back, disturbing your moment. It's a woman, asking to speak to him.

You don't really register what she's saying. All you know is that you've seen her around before, and you know she's friends with the guys. Eddie apologizes to you as he's being dragged away for a private conversation. “I'll be right back! Don't go far.”

Nodding, you remain frozen in place.

They don't go far, but you can't really tell what they're talking about, but her hand on his forearm, slowly rising to his bicep, tells you everything you need to know.

You don't realize it but you're shaking a little bit, cold sweat prickling through your suddenly frigid skin. There's a ringing in your ears, and a lump growing in your throat, but you can't stop yourself from looking.

He looks beautiful like this. The light from the now empty stage hits his figure from the back, making him look every bit like the rock god he's always aspired to be. The frizz on his hair creates a halo around his head, and you think you might faint.

To his credit, he doesn't get any closer to the girl. Doesn't flirt back. His smile is polite, and he maintains a sensible distance, but that's not enough to ease your mind.

He's only keeping a distance because you're here. Your mind says, always the traitor. You're holding him back. He could be making out with a different girl every night. Maybe he is. Maybe he is and you're none the wiser. Better walk away now. Go, before your heart breaks.

It's already breaking, and you're the culprit.

You almost don't notice Eddie return to you, as your vision’s gone blurry.

“Sorry, Emma wanted to invite me to an after party. Told her I was busy.” There it was, his easy smile again. From a first look, you wouldn't think Eddie Munson smiles so easily, but it's always there, pulling on his full lips and showing off his dimples.

You would smile back, as usual, but it's like your face can't move.

“Just you?” You ask, “Not the rest of the boys?”

He laughs, but there's not much humor behind it. “Just me.”

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” He is still grinning, raising one eyebrow at you, as if taunting you to speak up. Something rotten spreads through your insides, stirring them, rising like bile right through your opened mouth.

“Say what? It's not like we're dating, Eddie."

If regret could kill, you would be dead the moment you saw his face fall. Eddie's expressiveness is a double-edged sword — his happiness was contagious, but when he’s upset, there is nothing that could distract you from the way his bambi eyes plead to you.

You double down anyway, already feeling like a fool, but too stubborn to take back what you said.

"...right?"

“Is that what you think?” He asks, a pout on his pretty lips. “Is that what you want?”

“I… I don't know.” Your mouth is moving, but it's like you don't have control over what you're saying anymore. Like you can't even hear yourself, too taken by the dread that has taken over your body. “I think… What do you think?”

You throw the question back at him because you can't be the first one to say it. Because if he backs out, if you say what you really want — and it's him, he's all you've ever wanted, and the realization hits you like a punch to the gut — and he says it's never been quite like that, that he doesn't want you the same way, that he's just been passing the time, you would break.

Eddie looks away from you, then. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, “You're not sure what you want, is that what you're telling me?”

“No! No, it's not like that.” You almost choke on your own spit, “I'm just…”

Scared. Of opening your heart, of rejection, of him leaving when he learns how much you want him, need him.

“If you're not sure of what you want, I think you should take some time to think about it.”

“But, Eddie, I…”

“Think about it, and call me when you know.”

One of his hands goes to your shoulder, squeezing it, and briefly running thumb over the fabric of your sweatshirt. He's turning around before you can stay anything, the lump in your throat too big to allow you to speak.

The room feels like it's turning upside down as you turn the other way, towards the door. It turns and turns on its axis, and you almost lose your balance as you're making your way out. You wave halfheartedly at the bouncer, who waves back at you in the middle of his conversation with a green haired girl.

Walking home, you have time to think of what you'd just done.

As the tears roll freely through your face, and you wipe them with the end of your sleeves, you think of Eddie’s sullen face, once full of life, now transpiring his disappointment in you. You'd let him down, and it was all your fault.

In an attempt to protect yourself, you pushed him away.

You imagine him back at the bar, with the boys. With Emma, ready to console him after what you just did to him. The thought of it just makes you cry harder, trying to control your breathing as you get closer to your apartment.

You did what you always do. Leave first, turn your back, clam up back into your shell. You just never thought you'd do that to him.

It doesn't take long until you spiral.

You did all you could after you got home. Tried to breathe, but it only made you cry harder. Curled up on the couch with your cat, a brown tabby that curled herself right back into you, and cried until there were no tears left. Ignored your friends’ messages on your phone, pretending everything was all right.

Tried to drink, but felt too sad to even open your fridge. Ran into one of Eddie’s hoodies hanging from the back of a chair in your room, and felt more tears coming, but no strength to cry.

Everything in your room reminded you of him — your unmade bed where he'd be lying on if you didn't screw up, the fantasy book he'd let you borrow on your bedside table, a polaroid of the two of you with your arms around each other serving as a bookmark.

You pick your phone, and it rings and rings. He doesn't answer. In a moment of panic, you leave a message instead, pacing through your room on your bare feet, still wearing the clothes you went out in. The cat on your bed follows your movements with her eyes.

“Hi, Eddie. I… You might not even want to hear from me right now, and I get that. Really, I do, but… You just need to know I know I fucked up. I didn't mean to do you like that, I didn't mean to say those things to you.”

Your voice trembles, just like the hand that's holding your phone to your mouth, but you keep going, “Of course we're dating, we've been dating for a while now. I was too scared to say anything because we never put a label on it and I thought you didn't want anything with me, I guess I just didn't want to be the first one to say it in case you decided this wasn't… that I wasn't… what you wanted.”

There's a few seconds pause as you take a deep breath, and release it in an anguished sigh. “What I'm trying to say is… that I like you. A lot. Have since the beginning. And I understand if you didn't want anything to do with me anymore because of what I just did, but… if you still want to talk, I'm… I'm still here, okay? I'm still here.”

When you're finished, you throw your phone back on your bed, and wait.

You're still pacing around the house, a mug full of tea in hand, when you hear your phone vibrating on your bed. You almost don't pick it up, but you do anyway.

Two notifications from Eddie.

Can I come over?

Are you still up?

Hands shaking, you answer with a simple Yeah. Key’s on the carpet.

The clock on your screen says it's 2:22 AM.

You hear your door opening not too long after that, the spare key turning on the lock, as you're sitting on the couch, writing like a kid that's to be scolded when their parents come home. The mug of tea is half empty at your feet, and now cold, just as your nervous hands as Eddie comes through the door.

Wearing a Metallica sweatshirt, an older one that you've borrowed before, one you know how soft it feels on the skin, he comes in and silently closes the door behind him, leaving the key on a small ceramic plate by it.

You cave in before he can say anything. “I'm sorry.”

Your chin is wobbling again, but you swallow it down, not wanting to make a scene. Eddie comes closer, and sits next to you, careful not to kick the mug that you left carelessly on the floor.

“No, I'm sorry. I should have said something, I should have told you what you meant to me sooner. You know… I've been calling you my girlfriend to everyone but to the person who matters the most.”

“Everyone?” You repeat, “Everyone who?”

“The guys. At work. Wayne…”

“You told your uncle I'm your girlfriend?” The word feels foreign in your tongue, but not unpleasant. Eddie looks sheepish, but the corner of his mouth twitches and lifts just a bit, one of those dimples you love making an appearance in your dimly lit living room.

“Yeah. Like I said, everyone but the one who matters the most.”

There it is. That earnestness, pouring through him, warming you up from the inside out.

“And I guess… Am I the person you mean?”

“Who else would it be?” He's tilting his head now, kind eyes aimed at you. You huff a weak laugh, them, relief hitting you in waves. Not thinking too much, you throw yourself at him, hugging him by the shoulders, and folding your legs under your thighs to be closer to him.

“I'm still sorry, though. Sorry that I made you think I had doubts, or that I…”

Eddie doesn't let you finish, shushing you with a hand on the back of your head, and another wrapping around your waist, keeping you in place. “It's okay, sweetheart. I'm sorry too.”

“Since we're both sorry, does anyone have to be sorry at all?” You mumble into his shoulder, taking in his smell through his clothes. It soothes you more than anything can, along with his voice vibrating through his chest, and the warmth of his body clinging to yours.

“I think we can discuss the details in the morning.”

He seals it with a kiss to your temple. You and your boyfriend sleep on that same couch, and in the morning, there is nothing left to say.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic

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sunny44 · 4 months

Text

The exes club

Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex!reader, ex wags x fem!reader

Warnings: ex wags.

Summary: Where all the ex wags are best friends.

Yourusername instagram post

Liked by @maxverstappen, @isahernáez, @charlottesiine, @luisinhaoliveira, @elenaberri, @katerinaberezhna and other 174829

Yourusername the exes club is reunited again

Ps: for sure the best part of ours relationship

Tagged: @isahernáez, @charlottesiine, @luisinhaoliveira, @elenaberri, @katerinaberezhna

Isahernáez I miss this so much

Yourusername and I missed you

Luisinhaoliveira love you babes

Yourusername love you more girlfriend

Maxverstappen I can see you’re having fun

Liked by Yourusername

Love4wags I love that the best wags are bestfriends

Mv33fan I miss y/n and Max together

User81 I hate the fact that y/n explicitly say that she doesn’t like the current wag

F1lovelywags

Model Y/n Y/L/N talking about the comments of her not liking the new wags.

Y/n was Max Verstappen's girlfriend until a few months ago when they decided to end their relationship.

She and the other ex-WAGs were often seen together in the paddock during race weekends, emphasizing that they were and still are best friends.

Fans are now commenting on her latest post, suggesting that she dislikes the new WAGs just because she shared that she and the other exes were out having fun.

Yourusername instagram stories

“It’s race weekend”

I was invited to attend the weekend in Monza.

It had been a while since I attended any races; it lost its appeal after Max and I broke up. We decided it was for the best, as my modeling career consumed all my time, just like his racing career did to him.

We no longer had time for each other, and it was driving us apart. So, the best decision for both of us was to take a break, which ultimately led to the end.

But here I was again, at a race, hoping everything would go well without any stress.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N." I turned around to see someone from SKY Sports. "Could you give a brief interview?"

"Of course," I agreed, controlling to not roll my eyes as giving interviews was the last thing I wanted to do today.

"We saw your statement in your latest YouTube video regarding the comments on your posts. Do you have anything to declare?"

"As I said in the video, I'm not obligated to like anyone, even if that's what fans think. I don't personally know any of the girls, so the comments are unfounded, defamatory, and malicious," I said, looking into the camera. "I've always been friends with the other girls, and our friendship might have started here due to our ex-boyfriends working in the same field. But our friendship goes beyond that, so the fact that these so-called fans are bothered by something so trivial truly amazes me. Once again, I have nothing against anyone, so I ask you to stop trying to portray me as the villain just because you don't like me."

"Very well, thank you Y/n, for your words," I agreed and left.

I continued walking, stopped for a coffee, and on my way back, Daniel waved at me.

"Y/n, long time no see."

"Hi, Dani," I hugged him. "How are you?"

"Good, and you?"

"Good too, just the usual dramas."

"I saw; people don't have much sense.”

"Don't even talk about it. I don't know where people get this rivalry. It's not like I said anything about them in the post."

"Don't worry about it. Fans are just jealous because all of you dated who they wanted. The girls are getting hate now for dating them."

"Yeah, tell me about it," I sighed. "It's terrible for all of us. Max and I aren't even dating anymore, and people still hassle me."

"I can imagine. Heidi sometimes shows me some comments, and they're pretty nasty."

"Well, I need to go, but good luck in the race," I waved. Passing in front of the Red Bull garage, I was pulled inside, and when I saw, I was in Max's driver's room. "What the hell is this?"

"I wanted to see you," he said simply.

"And did you need to pull me in like you were kidnapping me?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you and I wanted as few people as possible to see."

"Why? Are you ashamed?"

"Of course not." He stared at me. "How are you?"

"Look, you didn't pull me in here to ask how I am, and I know it was your idea to invite me, even though you tried really hard to make it seem like it wasn't," I said, and he looked at the floor. "So tell me, why so much effort to bring me here?"

"Because I wanted to talk to you."

"You could have called me or sent a message."

"I know, but I needed to say this in person," I agreed and sat on his bed.

"All right, I'm listening."

"I wanted to apologize for my fans. I heard about what happened with your last post, and I didn’t wanted you to go through all this because of me."

"It's not your fault."

"Are you sure? The fans are mine."

"It doesn't matter; they're not your real fans if they're such nasty people," he agreed. "It's okay."

Max sighed, briefly averting his gaze before fixing it back on mine.

"Y/n, I need to be honest about the other reason I brought you here," I nodded, encouraging him to continue. "I still love you, more than I can admit. Seeing you dealing with all this pressure and drama made me realize that, even with everything that happened between us, I can't just let you go. Not again."

My heart raced, and a smile formed on my face.

"Max, I feel the same way. I think, deep down, we never stopped loving each other. Maybe it's time to give what we had a second chance."

He smiled back, sincerity reflected in his eyes.

"Y/n, I just want to do this the right way, without rushing, and make sure we're both ready." I nodded, feeling a profound sense of relief.

"I'm willing to give it a try, Max. After all, what do we have to lose?"

And in the end, I guess I put an end to the exes club.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername instagram stories

“Ops, I guess the exes club is over for me”

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jewelleria · 2 months

Text

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be.

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate.

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified.

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map.

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle.

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more.

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop.

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments.

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on.

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not.

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways.

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine.

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war.

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this:

I am a Jew.

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love.

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners.

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee!

Then they sent me this:

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die.

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind.

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake.

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired.

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people?

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews.

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like.

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for.

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war.

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why.

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be.

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

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