#1500 follower special

[emptea-headed]

Hello everyone! I’ve made it to over 1000 followers recently, and my dom and I agreed to make one of these posts to celebrate!

This post will run until October 16th Noon EST

*Edges and/or ruins controlled by my dom will not count towards this post, and if he makes me cum I must start all over again.

Edit: Spamming is encouraged by the way ☺️ I love the idea of an unobtainable goal

Edit 2: Edges from this post will be completed in the shortest amount of time as possible, which will obviously fry my brain as much as possible because that’s the whole point ☺️

Every one note is an edge I have to do, but special goals include:

Every 5 likes is an edge with mint chapstick on my clit and/or nipples

Every 5 reblogs is an edge I have to do with a dildo in, but no touching my clit

Every 5 comments is an edge I have to do with sensory deprivation

Every 20 likes is a minute I have to wear nipple and/or clit clamps while edging

Every 40 likes is an edge I have to do without a sex toy or my hands, anything else is fair game

Every 50 comments is a ruin followed immediately by smacking my cunt until its tingly

Every 100 of all is an edge I can have only by smacking my cunt and clit

Every 500 of all is an edge with the tens unit

Edit: If this post can get to 1000 notes, I will hard edge as many times in a row as I can handle (whatever the end result may be) with my legs tied open so I have no choice but to feel it and submit to it more and more

Edit: if this can get to 1500 then I’ll do nothing but ruins for a whole week, minimum 5 a day

[jungkoode]

Strings Attached (to my heart) #2

→ PAIRING : Spider-Man!Jungkook x F!Reader

→ RATING: Explicit, 18+.

→ DATE POSTED: February 13th, 2025.

→ GOAL FOR PART 3: 1500 notes on part 2.

→ SUMMARY : You were a journalist at Yonsei University when you started noticing the strange coincidences between your favorite bumbling freshman and Seoul's newest superhero. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when flustered. You tell yourself it's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.

→ TAGS : second person perspective used, female pronouns used, college au, spider-man au, noona kink, slight age gap (he’s 21, she’s 24ish),, virgin jungkook, first time, inexperienced jk, sexual content, explicit content, breast play, praise kink, crying during sex, crying after sex, embarrassment kink, humiliation kink, slight dom reader x sub jungkook, pining, jungkook has a big fat crush on you, secret identity, touch starved, desperate jungkook, gentle domming, aftercare, emotional intimacy, fluff and smut, Korean setting, university setting, oral sex, oral receiving, cunnilingus, fingering, multiple orgasms, face sitting, sexually inexperienced jungkook, post-coital confession, afterglow, blowjobs, swallowing, sexual education, jungkook has supportive friends, explicit sexual content, friends giving sex advice, being walked through sex, spidey stamina, tender sex, first time giving oral, first time receiving oral, learning sex, being taught sex, breast worship, nipple play, handjobs, naked cuddling, confessions, jungkook is a shy baby, soft smut, explicit nsfw, comfort and reassurance during sex, superhero secret identity reveal, bathing/washing, caretaking.

→ PLAYLIST: set the vibes.

→ MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 13.5k

→ A/N: Welcome back to part 2 of our Spidey!JK saga, where things get even steamier and somehow even more emotional?? 😭 Y'all's response to part 1 absolutely blew me away, so I had to deliver on that promise of exploring certain... scenarios... with those spider powers 👀 This part really dives into the tender dynamic between our confident noona and her adorably earnest hoobae as they navigate his first time(s) together. Fair warning: this is probably the softest explicit content I've ever written?? Like, I didn't mean to make it this emotional but here we are, sobbing over Jungkook being the most precious baby while getting railed walked through his first experiences. Special shoutout to Jimin and Taehyung for being the real MVPs with their mortifying but ultimately helpful "sex ed lesson" 😭 . Also can we talk about how Spiderkook thought he was being subtle this whole time?? Sir, you're about as subtle as a brick through a window, but it's okay because you're cute. As always, enormous thanks to my cat who encouraged me to finish this through my 7th cup of cofffee of day 6. Your enabling is appreciated 🫶 Hope you enjoy part 2 of this wholesome filth! 🕸️

→ PREVIOUS

He's trailing behind you again.

You don't even have to turn around to know it's him—his footsteps are too eager, too bouncy, like a puppy who hasn't quite figured out how to walk without tripping over its own paws. Something in your chest tightens at the familiar sound, a mix of fondness and guilt that you try to squash down.

"Noona!"

You sigh, but it's the kind of sigh that's more amused than annoyed, even if you'd never admit it. You should shut this down. You really should. After what happened in the library closet, you shouldn't be encouraging whatever this is.

"Jungkook," you say without looking back, your voice flat. "We've talked about this."

"About what?" he asks, his tone all wide-eyed innocence, like he doesn't already know.

Like he hasn't been following you around campus with those doe eyes and nervous energy ever since that day.

"About you following me around like a lost duckling," you reply dryly, finally glancing over your shoulder.

The moment you do, you regret it.

Because there he is: Jeon Jungkook, Yonsei University's most persistent freshman, clutching yet another plastic convenience store bag like it's a peace offering. His hair is a mess—floppy and windswept from the autumn breeze—and his big doe eyes are practically sparkling with excitement. He looks so young, so earnest, that it makes your stomach twist with guilt.

You're his sunbae. You should be setting boundaries, not letting yourself get caught up in the way he looks at you like you hung the moon.

"I'm not following you!" he protests immediately, though the way he trips over his own feet as he rushes to catch up kind of undermines his argument. "I just… happened to be walking this way! Totally normal! Not weird at all!"

You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Right. And the snacks?"

"Oh! These?" He holds up the bag like it's Exhibit A in a court case. "They're for you!"

"Jungkook," you groan, stopping in your tracks so you can turn to face him fully. "You keep giving me snacks, and I'm gonna get fat."

The gasp he lets out is so dramatic it actually makes you laugh, the sound escaping before you can stop it. This is the problem—he's too endearing for his own good, making it impossible to maintain the professional distance you should.

"Noona!" he exclaims, looking genuinely horrified by the very idea. "Your weight is literally perfect! And even if you gained weight—which you're not just because I bring you snacks sometimes—"

"Every day," you interject pointedly, trying to ignore how your heart flutters at his earnest defense.

You shouldn't find it charming. You're supposed to be the mature one here.

"—you'd still be beautiful and—uh—you—it'd be okay!" he stammers, his words tumbling over each other in his rush to reassure you. His cheeks are already turning pink, and it only gets worse when he realizes what he just said out loud. "I mean—you're already—uh—"

You should stop this. Should remind him that you're his sunbae, that this kind of attention isn't appropriate.

Instead, something reckless and wanting unfurls in your chest as you watch him flounder.

"Well," you interrupt with a smirk, deciding to mess with him despite the voice in your head screaming that this is a bad idea, "if I gain weight, maybe my boobs will grow."

The way his eyes widen is almost comical.

His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water as he struggles to find something—anything—to say that won't make this worse for him. You know you shouldn't enjoy his flustered state this much, shouldn't feel this rush of power at how easily you can reduce him to a stammering mess, but...

"Your boobs are already per—uh—ah—" He cuts himself off with a strangled noise, his face going beet red as he realizes what almost slipped out. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean—I wasn't trying to—I mean—"

The library closet flashes through your mind—his desperate sounds, the way he trembled against you, how beautifully he fell apart. You should feel worse about that than you do. Should regret taking advantage of his obvious crush.

Instead, you find yourself saying: "Jungkook."

"Yep?" His voice cracks on the word, and his big doe eyes dart between yours like he's waiting for some kind of divine punishment to rain down on him. He looks ridiculous—and ridiculously cute—and it takes everything in you not to let your fondness show too much.

You roll your eyes and snort softly, warring with yourself. The responsible thing would be to send him away, to maintain appropriate boundaries.

Instead, you hear yourself saying: "Come by my apartment tonight."

His eyes somehow get even wider. "Your… apartment?" he echoes weakly, like he can't quite believe what he just heard.

The pure shock in his expression should be a wake-up call—a reminder that you're his sunbae, that you shouldn't be inviting him into your personal space like this.

"At eight," you add anyway, watching as his brain visibly short-circuits trying to process this information. "Yeah?"

"Y-y-y-yeah," he stammers, choking on his own spit in the process because of course he does. "Your apartment? At night?"

You nod slowly, biting back a smile as his face flushes an even deeper shade of red.

There's a voice in the back of your head reminding you that this is dangerous territory—that after the library incident, you should be putting distance between you, not drawing him closer.

"Okay," he says quickly, nodding along with you like some kind of bobblehead doll. "Yeah! Okay! I can—I can do that." He swallows hard, his voice strangled as he adds, "Eight o'clock. Your apartment."

He looks so flustered—so completely overwhelmed by the mere idea of being invited into your personal space—that something mischievous sparks in your chest, drowning out the guilt.

You shouldn't tease him any more than you already have today—you really shouldn't—but the way he looks at you, all eager desperation and nervous energy, makes you want to see just how far you can push him.

"Bring condoms," you say offhandedly as you turn back around and start walking again, even as your conscience screams at you that this is crossing a line.

The sound Jungkook makes is somewhere between a gasp and a choke—a strangled little noise that has you biting your lip to keep from laughing outright.

You don't have to look back to know exactly what expression he's wearing: wide-eyed panic mixed with sheer disbelief and just a hint of something else... something darker that reminds you too much of how he looked in that closet.

You should feel worse about this. Should feel guilty for teasing your hoobae like this, for playing with his obvious feelings. Instead, you find yourself turning back, unable to resist watching him fall apart.

"I—I—what?!" His voice cracks so hard on the word that it echoes slightly down the street.

He's standing there frozen in place, clutching the snack bag like it's the only thing keeping him upright.

His mouth opens and closes uselessly for several seconds before he finally manages to croak out: "Condoms?"

"You don't want to?" You tilt your head innocently, watching as his entire body stiffens at the question.

There's a twisted satisfaction in seeing how easily you can affect him, even as a small voice in your head reminds you that you're supposed to be the responsible one here.

"I want to!"

The words burst out of him so fast they practically trip over each other on their way out of his mouth—and then his eyes widen in horror as he realizes how eager that sounded.

“I mean—I—uh—yeah? Yes? I really—I really want to." He bites his lip nervously before adding in a much quieter voice: "...Please."

The way he looks at you then—like some kind of kicked puppy who just admitted all its secrets—makes heat pool in your stomach. You shouldn't want this. Shouldn't want him. He's your hoobae, for fuck's sake, barely out of his military service and looking at you like you're everything he's ever wanted.

But instead of letting him off the hook (because where's the fun in that?), you raise an eyebrow and say simply: "Good."

He nods frantically at that—as if agreeing with you might somehow save him from further embarrassment—but then hesitates when something seems to occur to him.

The guilt starts creeping back in as you watch him fidget, so obviously inexperienced and eager to please.

"Noona?" His voice is soft now—almost shy—as if whatever he's about to ask might actually kill him.

"Yes?" You stop walking again and turn fully toward him, trying to ignore how your heart clenches at his nervous expression.

"Where... where can I... uh..." He trails off awkwardly before finally blurting out: "...Buy them?"

This time, you choke on your spit.

Because fuck—the reminder of just how unversed he is hits you like a punch to the gut.

You're terrible for this, for teasing him when he's so clearly out of his depth. For wanting to see him fall apart again, even knowing you should be protecting him instead of corrupting him.

"Jungkook," you say after a long moment of stunned silence, your voice softer than intended.

"Yes?" He looks at you hopefully, and god, you're going straight to hell for the things you want to do to him when he looks at you like that.

"I was joking."

The look on his face when those words sink in is priceless—a mix of disappointment and relief so intense it almost makes you feel bad for teasing him this much.

Almost.

Because underneath that relief, you can see it—the way his eyes darken slightly, the subtle shift in his posture that tells you he wanted it to be real.

"...Oh," he says softly after another long pause, and something in his tone makes your chest flutter.

"But not about coming over tonight!" You call back as you start walking again, before you can do something stupid like take it back. Before you can give in to the urge to tell him you weren't entirely joking after all. "Bring me jajjangmyeon!"

Behind you comes another strangled noise—and then hurried footsteps as Jungkook scrambles after you once again.

"Noona!"

You keep walking, trying to ignore the way your heart races.

Jungkook bangs his head against the wall of Taehyung's apartment, each thud punctuating his words: "I. Hate. My. Self."

"Why?" Taehyung doesn't even look up from his game controller, thumbs moving rapidly as he dodges an attack on screen. "You're gonna get laid."

"Finally," Jimin adds helpfully from his spot on the floor, leaning back against the couch as he mashes buttons. "About time someone popped that cherry—"

"It's NOT like that!" Jungkook's voice cracks embarrassingly, and he seriously considers webbing both their mouths shut. Why does he have friends? Who allowed this? "She just wants to hang out!"

"At night?" Taehyung snorts, still focused on the game. "In her apartment?"

"Alone?" Jimin adds, grinning as his character lands a critical hit. "Just the two of you?"

"She literally said she was joking!" Jungkook protests, sliding down the wall until he's sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest like some kind of oversized puppy. "About the... you know."

"The condoms?" Taehyung supplies helpfully.

"Shut up!"

"Maybe," Jimin says thoughtfully, pausing the game to turn and look at Jungkook properly, "she was joking about joking."

Jungkook freezes. "No way."

"Yes way."

"...You think so?" And god, he hates how hopeful his voice sounds. How pathetically eager.

"Bro," Taehyung says, finally setting down his controller to fix Jungkook with a look. "You already nutted in your pants grinding against her in a library closet."

"DIE." Jungkook buries his face in his hands, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole. "I hate you. I hate both of you. So much."

"I mean," Jimin continues, completely unbothered by Jungkook's death threats, "she obviously knows you want her. Like, it's not exactly a secret."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jungkook peeks through his fingers, suspicious.

"Dude." Taehyung gives him a flat look. "You follow her around like a lost puppy."

"I do not—"

"You bring her snacks every day—"

"That's just being nice!"

"You literally stalk her as Spider-Man—"

"I'm PROTECTING her!"

"From what?" Jimin snorts. "Paper cuts? Bad coffee? The dangers of journalism?"

Jungkook makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. "I hate this conversation. Can we go back to you two failing at Mario Kart?"

"Nope," Taehyung says cheerfully, turning to face him fully now. "This is way more entertaining. So, what are you gonna wear?"

"What?" Jungkook blinks. "What do you mean, what am I gonna wear? Clothes?"

Jimin and Taehyung exchange a look that makes Jungkook's stomach drop.

"Oh no," Jimin says slowly. "No, no, no. You are not showing up to your potential deflowering wearing your usual disaster outfit."

"My WHAT—"

"The oversized hoodie and ripped jeans combo," Taehyung clarifies. "It's cute for class, but for this? Absolutely not."

"I'm not getting deflowered!" Jungkook protests, his voice reaching a pitch that probably only dogs can hear. "She just wants jajjangmyeon!"

"Right," Jimin drawls. "Because girls always invite guys over at night for noodles."

"Some do!"

"Name one time—"

"I don't have to name anything! This isn't—she's not—we're not—" Jungkook makes a frustrated noise, running his hands through his hair until it's sticking up in all directions. "She probably just wants to talk about Spider-Man again."

Another loaded look passes between his friends.

"What?" Jungkook asks suspiciously.

"Nothing," they say in unison, which is never a good sign.

"What?!"

"It's just..." Taehyung starts carefully. "Maybe she wants to... confirm her suspicions?"

Jungkook's blood runs cold. "What suspicions?"

"You know..." Jimin waves his hand vaguely. "About your... nighttime activities?"

"My what—OH." Jungkook's eyes widen in horror. "Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh god. You think she's gonna—"

"Interrogate you?" Taehyung supplies helpfully. "Probably."

"While you're vulnerable?" Jimin adds with a grin. "Most likely."

"Post-orgasm?" Taehyung continues. "When your guard is down?"

"I'm going to throw up," Jungkook announces, pulling his knees tighter to his chest. "I'm actually going to be sick."

"Relax," Jimin says, reaching over to pat his knee sympathetically. "Maybe she just wants to fuck you."

"That's not relaxing!" Jungkook squeaks. "That's the opposite of relaxing! That's—that's—"

"Hot?" Taehyung suggests.

"Exciting?" Jimin adds.

"Terrifying," Jungkook corrects weakly. "What if I... what if I'm bad at it?"

Another loaded silence fills the room.

"Well," Taehyung says slowly, "you've already set the bar pretty low with the closet incident—"

"I'm leaving." Jungkook starts to stand up, but Jimin grabs his arm and yanks him back down.

"No, you're not," Jimin says firmly. "You're going to sit here and let us help you not completely fuck this up."

"I don't need help!"

"You came in your pants from some light grinding."

"That was—it wasn't—she said it was cute!"

"And that's great," Taehyung says patiently. "But maybe this time we aim for something a little more... impressive?"

Jungkook groans, letting his head fall back against the wall with a thud. "I hate this. I hate all of this. Why couldn't I just be normal?"

"Normal is overrated," Jimin says sagely. "Now, about those clothes..."

"We're not having this conversation."

"We absolutely are," Taehyung declares, standing up. "Come on, let's raid my closet. You're not showing up looking like a freshman who just rolled out of bed."

"But I am a freshman who just rolled out of bed!"

"Not tonight, you're not," Jimin says, grabbing Jungkook's other arm to haul him up. "Tonight, you're going to look like someone who might actually know what to do with a woman."

"But I don't know what to do with a woman!"

"That's what we're here for," Taehyung says cheerfully, already heading toward his bedroom. "Sex Ed with Taehyung and Jimin, now in session!"

"Kill me," Jungkook mutters, but he lets himself be dragged along anyway. "Just... someone please kill me."

"After you get laid," Jimin promises. "Now, let's talk about foreplay..."

The noise Jungkook makes is probably audible from space.

But then he’s sitting cross-legged on Taehyung's bed, face buried in his hands as his friends settle on either side of him.

The game controllers lie abandoned on the floor, forgotten in favor of what Taehyung has dubbed "Operation: Don't Let Jungkook Embarrass Himself (Again)."

"Okay," Jimin says, his tone shifting from teasing to something more serious. "First rule: stop overthinking."

"I'm not—"

"You are," Taehyung cuts in gently. "We can literally see you spiraling. Your whole face does this thing when you're in your head too much."

"What thing?" Jungkook peeks through his fingers suspiciously.

"Like you're trying to solve quantum physics while having an existential crisis," Jimin explains. "It's not cute."

Jungkook groans. "How am I supposed to not overthink? She's—she's her, and I'm just—"

"A superhero?" Taehyung supplies helpfully.

"That's different! That's not—I mean—" Jungkook makes a frustrated noise. "Spider-Man is cool. I'm not cool. I'm just... me."

"And she likes you," Jimin says firmly. "Not Spider-Man. Well, maybe Spider-Man too, but she doesn't know that yet. She likes awkward, rambling, snack-bringing you."

"How do you know?"

"Because," Taehyung says patiently, "girls don't usually let guys they're not into grind against them in library closets."

"Can we please stop bringing that up?"

"No, because it's important," Jimin insists. "She initiated that. She guided your hands. She told you it was okay. That means she's attracted to you."

Jungkook swallows hard, his face heating up at the memory. "But what if... what if she expects me to know what I'm doing now?"

"Then be honest," Taehyung says simply. "Tell her you're nervous. Tell her you want her to show you what she likes."

"Girls love that shit," Jimin adds. "Being all vulnerable and asking for guidance? That's hot."

"Really?" Jungkook looks between them skeptically.

"Really," they say in unison.

"Plus," Taehyung continues, "she already knows you're inexperienced. And she still wants you there. That means something."

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip nervously. "Okay, but... what if... what if I..." He trails off, face burning.

"What if you what?"

"What if I... finish too fast again?" The last words come out as barely a whisper.

"Then you use your mouth," Jimin says matter-of-factly.

Jungkook chokes on air. "My what?"

"Your mouth," Taehyung repeats calmly. "Seriously, learn to eat pussy. It's like, the number one life skill."

"Oh my god." Jungkook falls backward onto the bed, covering his face with both hands. "I can't believe we're having this conversation."

"Better us than you figuring it out on your own," Jimin points out. "Now sit up. This is important."

"I don't want to."

"Jungkook."

"No."

"Fine," Taehyung sighs. "Then we'll just let you go in blind and probably accidentally bite her cl—"

"OKAY!" Jungkook bolts upright. "Okay, I'm listening. Just... please be less graphic."

"No can do," Jimin says cheerfully. "This is detailed instruction time. Now, the most important thing to remember is—"

What follows is possibly the most mortifying yet educational thirty minutes of Jungkook's life. His friends, for all their teasing, are actually... helpful. They explain things clearly, answer his (extremely embarrassing) questions without judgment, and even draw diagrams that make him want to die but also kind of make sense.

"And remember," Taehyung says finally, "it's okay to laugh if something awkward happens. Sex isn't like porn. It's messy and weird sometimes."

"And communication is key," Jimin adds. "If you're not sure about something, ask. If something feels good, say so. If something doesn't, speak up."

Jungkook nods slowly, processing everything. "Okay. Yeah. I can... I can do that."

"And for fuck's sake," Taehyung says, "breathe. You look like you're about to pass out."

"I might," Jungkook admits weakly. "This is... a lot."

"It is," Jimin agrees, patting his knee. "But you've got this. And hey, maybe nothing will happen tonight. Maybe she really does just want to eat jajjangmyeon and talk."

"Right," Jungkook says, though his voice wavers slightly. "Just... normal hanging out."

"But if something does happen," Taehyung adds with a grin, "at least now you know where the clit is."

"I hate you both so much."

"You love us," Jimin corrects. "Now, about those clothes..."

Jungkook flops back onto the bed with another groan, but this time, it's less panicked and more resigned. Because yeah, okay, maybe his friends are right. Maybe this won't be a complete disaster.

Maybe.

Probably.

Oh god, he's going to throw up.

"Stop spiraling," Taehyung says immediately. "I can see you doing it."

"I'm not spiraling!" Jungkook protests. "I'm just... mentally preparing."

"For what? The worst possible scenario?"

"Yes!"

"Which is?" Jimin prompts.

"I don't know! Everything? What if I trip and break her lamp? What if I say something stupid? What if I accidentally web her ceiling fan? What if—"

"Okay, new rule," Taehyung interrupts. "No spider powers in the bedroom unless explicitly discussed beforehand."

"Oh my god."

"He's right though," Jimin says thoughtfully. "Save the web-shooting for later. That's like, advanced kink territory."

"I'm leaving," Jungkook announces for the hundredth time. "I'm actually leaving this time."

"No, you're not," they say in unison, each grabbing one of his arms to keep him in place.

"We still haven't picked out your outfit," Taehyung reminds him.

"Or talked about protection," Jimin adds.

"Or—"

"Fine!" Jungkook throws his hands up in defeat. "Fine. Just... please stop saying 'web-shooting' in relation to... that."

His friends exchange matching grins that make him immediately regret everything.

"No promises," they say together.

Jungkook screams into a pillow.

The doorbell rings, loud and obnoxious, startling you out of your focus.

You pause mid-sentence, fingers hovering over your laptop's keyboard as you glance toward the door. When did the bell get so loud? It's like it's mocking you for forgetting—or pretending to forget—that you invited him over.

You sigh, pulling off your headphones and letting them rest around your neck as you shuffle toward the door.

Your bunny slippers scuff softly against the floor, and you tug at the hem of your tank top absentmindedly. You're not exactly dressed to impress—grey sweats, a loose tank top, hair probably a mess—but whatever. It's your apartment. Comfort trumps everything else.

(Though a small voice in your head reminds you that maybe you should've put on something less... revealing. Something that doesn't show quite so much skin, doesn't blur the lines between sunbae and…)

You open the door, and there he is.

Jeon Jungkook, standing in the hallway in his own grey sweats and an oversized hoodie, looking like he just stepped out of a cozy loungewear ad. His hair is slightly damp, curling at the ends like he'd rushed to shower before coming over. He's holding a plastic bag in one hand, and his other is shoved awkwardly into his pocket. For some reason, he's staring off to the side, like he's too nervous to look directly at the door.

But then his gaze shifts—quickly, immediately—and lands on you. And just like that, it's like all the tension in his body melts away. His shoulders drop slightly, and there's this soft little exhale that escapes him as his lips curve into a sheepish smile. The pure relief in his expression makes your stomach twist with guilt.

"Brought jajjangmyon as you requested, noona," he says, holding up the bag like it's some kind of peace offering.

The way he says "noona," all shy and reverent like it's some sacred title only meant for you—it shouldn't make your chest feel warm, but it does. It really shouldn't.

You bite back both a smile and the urge to tell him to go home, to forget about whatever this thing between you is becoming. Instead, you step aside to let him in, watching as he hesitates for half a second before shuffling past you into the apartment, his sneakers squeaking softly against the floor.

You close the door behind him and turn to find him standing awkwardly near the entrance, clutching the bag like it's a lifeline. His eyes dart around your apartment—taking in the cluttered desk with your laptop still open, the half-empty mug of coffee on the table, the blanket draped over the back of your couch—but they always seem to come back to you.

Like he can't help himself, like you're some kind of magnet he can't resist.

And then there's this moment—a brief flicker—where his gaze lowers slightly, catching on your tank top and sweats. It's subtle, almost imperceptible, but you notice it anyway. The way his jaw tightens just a fraction before he quickly looks away again, like he's afraid of being caught staring.

It reminds you too much of how he looked in that closet, all desperate want and nervous energy.

He clears his throat. "Uh... nice place."

You snort softly, trying to ignore the way your skin prickles under his gaze. "It's a mess."

"It's cozy," he says earnestly, and when he looks at you again, there's something warm in his eyes.

Something that makes you want to push him away before you do something stupid like pull him closer.

You shake off the feeling and motion for him to follow you further inside.

"C'mon," you say over your shoulder as you walk toward your desk, needing distance. "I need some help with something."

"With what?" he asks immediately, trailing after you like an obedient puppy.

Always so eager to please, so ready to do anything you ask. It would be easier if he wasn't so genuine about it.

You glance back at him briefly and smirk, falling back on teasing because it's safer than acknowledging whatever happened. "Carrying all this food to my desk."

His lips twitch upward into another sheepish smile as he holds up the bag again. "I can do that."

Of course he can.

You roll your eyes but don't say anything else as you plop back down into your chair and gesture for him to set everything on the table beside your laptop. You need to focus on something—anything—other than how domestic this feels, how naturally he fits into your space.

As he unpacks the containers of jajjangmyon with meticulous care—like each one is some kind of precious artifact—you can't help but watch him out of the corner of your eye. There's something about seeing him here—in your space—that feels... different.

Dangerous.

Like this is some kind of alternate universe where Jeon Jungkook isn't just that awkward freshman who follows you around campus with snacks and stammered compliments but someone who actually belongs here.

It's stupid. You know it is. But still.

"You didn't have to bring all this," you say finally, breaking the silence as he sets down a pair of chopsticks beside one of the containers. Your voice comes out sharper than intended, an edge of defensiveness creeping in.

"You asked for it," he replies simply, glancing up at you with those wide doe eyes of his.

Always so earnest, so sincere. It makes something in your chest ache.

"I was joking."

"I know." He smiles softly—just barely—but there's something about it that makes your guilt surge.

“Then why’d you bring it?”

“Because…” He hesitates for half a second before shrugging lightly. “Because I wanted to.”

There's something so simple—so pure—about his answer that it catches you off guard for a moment. You don't know what to say to that, so instead, you just grab one of the containers and pop it open with a quiet "thanks," trying to ignore how your hands shake slightly.

He sits down across from you without being asked—like this is normal now—and starts unpacking his own food while sneaking occasional glances at you when he thinks you're not looking. Each glance feels like a weight on your conscience, reminding you how badly you're handling this whole situation.

The silence stretches between you as you both eat, broken only by the soft clicking of chopsticks against containers.

Something’s... off.

Jungkook's usually endless chatter is conspicuously absent, replaced by this heavy quiet that makes your skin crawl.

You glance up from your food to find him staring intently at his container, his fingers fidgeting with the chopsticks like he's trying to work up the courage to say something.

There's a tension in his shoulders that wasn't there before, a nervousness that reminds you too much of how he looked in that closet, and—

Oh.

Oh.

The guilt hits you like a slap on the fucking face.

Because what kind of sunbae are you? Getting off on making your hoobae squirm? Letting him grind against you until he came in his pants? Who even are you? Was it worth the power trip?

God, you’re insane. You are out of your depth. You are disgusting.

And now he's sitting here, all quiet and nervous, probably thinking about it too, probably wondering if you're going to acknowledge it or pretend it never happened and—

Something ugly and defensive rises in your chest, a need to push him away before he gets too close. Before you can fuck this up any more than you already have.

"So," you start, your voice deliberately casual as you type random nonsense just to look busy. Your fingers move across the keyboard without purpose, just needing something to focus on besides the way he keeps sneaking glances at you. "Did you tell your friends about our little encounter?"

Jungkook chokes on his noodles, face immediately flushing red. "I—what?"

"You know," you continue, still not looking at him because you can't handle those doe eyes right now. "The closet thing. Did you brag about it? Tell all your freshman friends how you got felt up by a senior?"

God, you sound cruel even to your own ears. But it's better this way, right? Better to push him away now before this gets even more complicated. Before you let yourself get used to having him in your space, all soft smiles and eager eyes.

"N-no!" he stammers, sounding horrified. "I wouldn't—I mean, I did tell Jimin-hyung and Tae-hyung, but—"

"Of course you did," you cut him off with a sharp laugh that doesn't sound like you at all. "Bet they were impressed, huh? Their baby Jungkookie getting action in the library?"

His breath hitches audibly, and you hate how the sound makes your chest tight. You're doing this for his own good, you remind yourself. He deserves better than some senior who gets off on making him cry.

"It wasn't like that," he says quietly, and you can hear the hurt in his voice. "I just... I needed advice—"

"Advice?" You finally look at him, raising an eyebrow even as your nails dig into your palms. "What kind of advice? How to last longer than three minutes?"

The moment the words leave your mouth, you see him physically flinch. His eyes go wide, glassy with unshed tears, and something in your chest fractures.

You're the worst. The absolute worst.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, voice cracking. "I didn't mean to—I know I was pathetic—"

"Stop," you say immediately, panic rising in your throat because you can see it coming—the way his lips tremble, the way he's looking at you with such raw emotion.

Don't say it. Please don't say it.

But he's already spiraling, words tumbling out between hiccupping breaths: "I know I'm inexperienced and awkward and probably really bad at everything, but I—I really like you, noona, and I—"

"What's next?" You spit out, desperate to stop the confession you don't deserve, nails drawing blood from your palms now. "Gonna cry? Beg? Whimper noona until I take pity on you?" A harsh laugh scrapes your throat. "What would you even do if I told you to get on your knees right now?"

Silence.

You snort, turning back to your laptop, relief flooding through you because finally, finally he's going to realize what a terrible person you are and—

Fabric rustles. The soft thud of denim hitting floorboards. Your fingers freeze over the keyboard.

He kneels between your spread legs, palms on his thighs. The overhead light catches the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.

"Okay."

Your pulse thunders. "Okay what?"

"However you want me." His voice quivers but doesn't break. "However you need."

The cursor blinks mockingly on screen. You suddenly can't remember your Wi-Fi password. Your thesis topic. Your own name.

"What are you doing?" Your voice comes out strangled.

"You asked," he whispers, voice trembling but determined. "If I would get on my knees for you, noona."

"I was being cruel," you say quickly, but your mouth feels dry. "I was trying to hurt you."

"I know." His hands shake where they rest on his thighs, tears tracking down his cheeks. "But I'd still... I'd still do anything. Even if you're just being mean. Even if you're trying to push me away."

Your breath catches. "Jungkook—"

"I bought them," he blurts out suddenly, face burning red. "The condoms. Even though—even though you said you were joking. I just... just in case. Because I wanted—I wanted to be ready if you..." He hiccups, more tears spilling over. "If you ever actually wanted me."

The guilt chokes you. "Stop it."

"Please don't push me away," he begs, voice cracking as he shifts closer, forehead pressing against your knee. "I know I'm pathetic. I know I'm just some stupid freshman who came in his pants the first time you touched him, but I—I can't stop thinking about you. About how good you made me feel. About how much I want to make you feel good too."

You stare at him, caught off guard by his desperate honesty. "You don't know what you want."

"I do," he insists, looking up at you through wet lashes. "I think about you all the time. When I'm alone, I—" He cuts himself off with a hiccup, shame coloring his cheeks. "I touch myself thinking about your hands. Your voice. How you said I was good for you."

A broken noise escapes you—something between a laugh and a sob. "Jungkook, we can't—"

"I'll be better," he promises frantically, hands hovering near your thighs like he's afraid to touch. "I'll last longer. I'll learn how to... how to please you properly. Just please don't—don't regret what happened. Don't hate me for wanting you so much."

You drop your head into your hands, overwhelmed by his raw honesty. He's still crying, shoulders shaking with barely suppressed sobs as he kneels before you like some kind of devoted supplicant.

"I practiced," he confesses in a broken whisper, and you can hear how much it costs him to admit this. "After... after the closet. Trying to—to last longer. Because I was so embarrassed about... about how fast I..." He hiccups, pressing his burning face against your knee. "Jimin-hyung and Tae-hyung, they tried to help. Gave me advice. Told me how to... how to be good for you."

"Jesus, Jungkook," you breathe, because what are you supposed to say to that?

"I know it's stupid," he rushes out, words tumbling over each other between hiccups. "I know you probably think I'm just some dumb kid with a crush, but it's more than that. You make me feel... you make me feel like I could be good enough. Like maybe being inexperienced isn't... isn't the worst thing in the world."

Your fingers find their way into his hair without permission, and the broken sound he makes at the contact nearly kills you. He leans into your touch like he's starving for it, tears still flowing freely.

"When you touched me," he continues, voice barely above a whisper, "in the closet... it was the first time anyone ever... and you were so gentle. So patient. Even though I was pathetic and came too fast and probably squeezed your breast too hard—"

"Stop calling yourself pathetic," you interrupt, tugging gently at his hair until he looks up at you. His face is a mess of tears and vulnerability, and something in your chest breaks. "God, Jungkook. You weren't pathetic. You were adorable."

He makes this wounded sound, like your words physically hurt him. "But I—I ruined it. Made it weird. Got too desperate and needy and—"

"That's what made it beautiful," you admit softly, thumbs brushing away his tears. "How honest you were. How much you wanted it. Wanted me."

His breath hitches, fresh tears spilling over. "I still do," he whispers. "Want you. So much it hurts sometimes. Even if you're being mean, even if you're trying to push me away... I just want to be close to you."

Your hands tremble slightly as you cup his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. His skin is feverish under your palms, tears still flowing freely as he looks up at you with those devastating doe eyes.

"I'm sorry," you murmur, watching as he blinks in confusion. "For being cruel earlier. I just... I felt so guilty. About taking advantage of you. About wanting you when I shouldn't."

"You weren't," he says immediately, desperately. "Taking advantage. I wanted it so bad, noona. Still want it. Want anything you'll give me." His voice cracks on another hiccup. "Even if—even if it's just this. Just letting me be close to you."

"Jungkook..." Your thumbs brush away fresh tears, but they're quickly replaced by more.

"I know I'm not good enough," words spilling out between quiet sobs. "Know I should probably be with someone my own age. Someone who won't have to teach me everything. But I—I want it to be you. Want you to show me how to... how to make you feel good. How to be what you need."

Your heart clenches at his words, at how earnestly he offers himself up to you.

“Baby," the endearment slips out again, making him shudder. "You don't have to try so hard."

"I want to," he insists, hands finally settling on your thighs, grip trembling but determined. "Want to learn everything. How to touch you. How to... how to use my mouth. How to make you cum. Please, noona."

His voice breaks on the honorific, more tears spilling down his cheeks.

"I like you so much. So—so much it hurts. Can't focus in class because I keep thinking about you. Can't sleep because I keep remembering how you touched me, how you looked at me like I wasn't just some stupid freshman."

"Jungkook—"

"Please don't tell me to stay away," he chokes out, panic clear in his voice. "I know I should. Know it's wrong because you're my sunbae and I'm just—just me, but I can't. I can't." His fingers dig into your thighs desperately. "I'll do anything. Be anything you want. Just please don't push me away."

Your heart aches at how broken he sounds, at the raw desperation in his voice. "Baby..."

"I dream about you," he confesses in a rush, like he's afraid you'll stop him. "About—about your hands. Your voice. The way you said I was good for you. Nobody's ever—nobody's made me feel like that before. Like I’m good enough. Just Jungkook.”

He's rambling now, words tumbling out between hiccups and sobs. "I know I'm probably terrible at everything. Know I should've lasted longer, should've touched you better, should've—should've been more in control but I couldn't. Can't think straight when you look at me like that. When you call me 'baby' and touch my hair and—"

You can't take it anymore. Can't handle how earnest he is, how desperately he's trying to convince you not to reject him. Your hands slide from his tear-stained cheeks into his hair, and he makes this broken little sound that goes straight to your heart.

"Noona," he whimpers, looking up at you through wet lashes. "Please."

You lean down, your heart thundering in your chest as you press your lips to his.

It's soft at first—tender, careful, like you're afraid he might shatter if you push too hard. His lips are warm and slightly salty from tears, trembling against yours as he makes this tiny, desperate sound in the back of his throat.

When his mouth parts on a shaky exhale, you can't help but deepen the kiss. Your tongue slides against his, and the way he gasps—soft and surprised, like he can't believe this is happening—makes heat pool in your stomach. His hands clench against your thighs, fingers trembling with nervous energy as he tries to match your rhythm.

God, he's so fucking precious. So earnest in the way he responds, letting you guide him with gentle pressure and encouraging hums. When you thread your fingers through his hair, he whimpers into your mouth, tears still tracking down his cheeks even as he kisses you back with clumsy enthusiasm.

You press harder, something possessive and hungry unfurling in your chest at how pliant he is, how desperately he tries to please you. Your other hand cups his jaw, tilting his head to deepen the kiss further, and he just melts for you. His mouth is sweet and eager, and you want to fucking devour him—want to swallow every little hiccupping sob and breathy moan he makes.

You shouldn't want this. Shouldn't want him. He's your hoobae, for fuck's sake—this eager, crying freshman who looks at you like you hung the moon. But the way he trembles under your touch, the way he gives himself over so completely... it makes you want to wreck him. To take him apart piece by piece until he's sobbing for an entirely different reason.

When you finally pull back, he chases your lips with a broken whine that goes straight to your core. His eyes flutter open, glazed and desperate, tears still clinging to his lashes like diamonds.

"Noona," he breathes, and his voice is wrecked—all raw and pleading in a way that makes you want to kiss him stupid again.

You shouldn't.

You really, really shouldn't.

But god help you, you do.

Jungkook's brain is absolutely short-circuiting.

Like, full system failure, blue screen of death, please-restart-your-computer levels of malfunction.

Because this? This can't be real. This has to be some kind of fever dream or maybe he hit his head on the way over here because there's no way—absolutely no fucking way—that you just kissed him.

But you did. You actually did. Your lips were on his, soft and warm and real, and now he's kneeling here like an idiot, staring up at you with what he's sure is the most pathetic expression ever because holy fuck.

He hadn't expected any of this. Really. After the whole teasing thing earlier (and the mortifying sex ed session with Taehyung and Jimin), he'd convinced himself nothing would happen. That's why he wore his comfy clothes—his safe clothes—even though yeah, okay, maybe he did buy condoms. Just in case. Because he's pathetic and hopeful and maybe a tiny part of him wanted to believe...

But no. He was fine with just bringing jajjangmyon. More than fine. He would've been happy just sitting here, watching you work, existing in the same space as you. That would've been enough.

Then you started pushing him away, and he just... broke. Started crying like some kind of oversized baby because apparently that's who he is now—someone who sobs at the first sign of rejection.

God, he's such a mess. Such an absolute disaster of a human being.

He apologized (between hiccups and tears because of course he did), but then you apologized too, and then—and then—you kissed him. You actually kissed him. With your mouth. On his mouth. While he was crying. Which should be embarrassing (it is embarrassing), but he can't even care because holy shit, you kissed him.

And now you're looking at him with this expression he can't quite read, your hands cradling his face like he's something precious instead of just some awkward freshman who can't keep his emotions in check.

"Stand up," you murmur, thumbs brushing away the remnants of his tears.

He scrambles to obey, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process because apparently his body has forgotten how legs work. His knees protest after kneeling for so long, and he sways slightly, hands hovering awkwardly at his sides because he doesn't know what to do with them.

Should he touch you? Is he allowed to touch you? What are the rules here? Is there a manual for this? Why didn't Taehyung and Jimin cover proper post-crying makeout etiquette in their weird sex ed lesson?

"Breathe," you remind him softly, and oh—right. That's a thing he should probably be doing.

He takes a shaky breath, then another, trying to calm his racing heart as you look up at him with those eyes that make him feel like he's simultaneously floating and drowning.

This is real. This is actually happening. Somehow, his pathetic, crying, disaster self has achieved... something. He's not sure what exactly, but something.

And he really, really hopes he doesn't fuck it up.

His tears haven't quite stopped—because of course they haven't, he's a walking emotional disaster—when you look up at him from your chair. His breath catches in his throat, expecting... well, he doesn't know what he's expecting. More kissing maybe? You to stand up? To tell him to stop being such a crybaby?

What he's definitely not expecting is for you to slide out of your chair and onto your knees in front of him.

His brain short-circuits completely when your hands find his hips, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his sweats. A gasp escapes him—embarrassingly high-pitched and needy—because holy fuck, are you—is this—what is happening?

You look up at him through your lashes, and his heart actually stops. "Is this okay?" you ask softly, thumbs rubbing circles against his hipbones through the fabric.

He nods so fast he probably gives himself whiplash, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks because he can't seem to get his body under control. Words fail him entirely—his vocabulary reduced to a series of choked sounds as you hook your fingers into the waistband of both his sweats and boxers.

Oh god.

Oh fuck.

This is actually happening. This is—

The fabric slides down his thighs, and Jungkook wants to die immediately because his dick is already hard. Like, embarrassingly hard. Because apparently his body is determined to humiliate him at every possible opportunity today.

A strangled whimper escapes him as cool air hits his exposed skin. His hands flutter uselessly at his sides, trembling with the effort not to cover himself as more tears track down his burning cheeks.

He's never felt more exposed in his life—standing here with his pants around his thighs, dick straining eagerly toward you like some kind of desperate compass pointing true north.

God, could he be any more obvious? Any more pathetic?

"I'm sorry," he chokes out, voice cracking. "I—it just—you just—"

“You’re okay.”

Your words are so gentle, so soothing, that it only makes Jungkook cry harder. Because how can you be this understanding? This tender with someone like him who can't even stop sobbing long enough to form coherent sentences?

But then—oh god—your thumb brushes against the underside of his cock, a slow, deliberate stroke from tip to base that makes his entire body shudder. And when you squeeze softly, testing, exploring? His knees nearly buckle.

He watches, transfixed, as your hand glides up and down his length with careful precision. Slow, so, so slow. The movement is hypnotic, making his breath catch on every upstroke, forcing tiny whimpers past his lips that he tries desperately to muffle behind his hand.

"Eyes on me," you command softly, and his gaze snaps to yours immediately.

His chest heaves with hiccupping sobs, tears still falling freely as he tries to process that this is real—that you're actually touching him, that this isn't just another fevered fantasy. His free hand hovers awkwardly in the air, unsure where it's allowed to land.

You chuckle—a warm, tender sound that makes his heart flip—and murmur, "Don't hold back those pretty sounds, baby. And here..." You guide his hovering hand to your hair. "Hold onto me if you need support."

The permission—both to touch and to be vocal—makes him whimper pathetically. His fingers thread shakily through your hair, careful and reverent, like he still can't quite believe he's allowed this.

"That's it," you encourage softly. "Just like that."

He can barely breathe as you maintain eye contact, your hand working him in slow, deliberate strokes that make his thighs tremble. Every touch feels electric—too much and not enough all at once.

"I'm s-sorry," he chokes out between sobs, fingers tightening reflexively in your hair. "For the—hic—crying, I can't—hic—stop—"

"Shh," you soothe, your free hand stroking his hip. "You're being so good for me."

The praise makes him whimper, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. His cock twitches in your grip, already leaking precum, and he feels his face burn hotter with embarrassment.

"Noona," he whines, voice cracking. "I'm—hic—I'm already so—"

"I know, baby," you murmur, and then your tongue flicks out to taste the bead of precum at his tip.

The noise he makes is absolutely wrecked—somewhere between a sob and a moan. His hips jerk forward instinctively before he catches himself, mortified.

"S-sorry! I didn't mean to—hic—to—"

"It's okay," you assure him, looking up through your lashes. "You can move if you need to."

He shakes his head frantically, still hiccupping. "Don't wanna—hic—hurt you—"

Your response is to take him into your mouth properly, and Jungkook's entire world narrows to the welcoming heat of your tongue sliding against his length. His legs shake so hard he has to grip your hair tighter just to stay upright.

"Oh god," he sobs, watching through tear-blurred vision as you take him deeper. "Oh fuck, noona, I can't—hic—it's too much—"

You hum around him in response, and the vibration makes his whole body shudder. He's babbling now, unable to stop the stream of desperate praise and broken pleas falling from his lips between hiccups.

"So good," he whimpers, "you're so—hic—perfect, I can't—please—hic—noona—"

Jungkook’s brain is mush. Absolute, scrambled, incoherent mush.

Because he’s seen porn—obviously he’s seen porn, military barracks aren’t exactly monasteries—but nothing could’ve prepared him for the reality of your mouth on him. The heat, the suction, the way your tongue swirls just beneath his tip every time you pull back—it’s obscene.

He’s pretty sure he’s hallucinating. Or dying. Or both.

His hips jerk forward involuntarily, a choked sob tearing from his throat as you take him deeper.

“N-noona—hic—’m sorry, I can’t—hic—can’t hold—”

You pull off with a filthy pop, and he nearly collapses right there.

But then you’re looking up at him, lips glistening, and saying the words that unravel him completely: “It’s okay, Jungkook-ah. Noona wants to taste you.”

His vision whites out for a second. You want to taste him. Want him. His pathetic, trembling, overeager self. 

The thought alone makes his cock twitch desperately, more precum beading at the tip as he fights the urge to just—

"Please," he chokes out between hiccups, his filter completely gone. "Can I—hic—down your throat? Please, noona, I've wanted—hic—for so long—"

Oh god. Oh fuck. Did he really just say that out loud?

Taehyung and Jimin's voices echo in his head—focus on her comfort, ask what she wants, don't be selfish—but his horny brain has completely taken over, reducing him to this desperate, begging mess.

"I'm s-sorry," he stammers immediately, mortified tears streaming down his face. "That was—hic—so stupid, I shouldn't have—you don't have to—"

Then you swallow him back down, all the way to the hilt, and his brain restarts completely.

"F-fuck—hic—noona—" His voice breaks as his orgasm builds, violent and overwhelming. His grip on your hair tightens, probably painful (god, he's the worst, he's so fucking inconsiderate, he should let go, should—). "I'm c-cumming—hic—'m so sorry, I'm—hic—ah—!"

He tries to pull back, he really does, but you hold him in place, humming around him like this is exactly what you wanted.

His vision blurs with tears as he comes harder than he ever has in his life, a broken groan tearing from his throat that would normally send him into a spiral of embarrassment.

Stupid stupid stupid, his brain chants as he shakes through the aftershocks. So fucking selfish. So desperate. She probably thinks you're disgusting. Probably hates you now. Probably—

But then you're looking up at him through your lashes, swallowing deliberately, and his spiral breaks at the soft, approving sound you make. Like this is good.

Like he's good.

Your laugh—warm and tender—cuts through his panic as you pull off to press a gentle kiss to his sensitive tip.

"That's exactly what I wanted," you murmur, and his heart stops completely.

God help him.

Jungkook wipes at his tears with the back of his wrist, sniffling softly as he tries to gather what's left of his courage. His voice is still shaky, still thick with tears, but there's a determination in it that surprises even him:

"Please let me—hic—eat you out," he manages, his face burning but his gaze steady. "Want to make you feel good too. You've done it twice for me now, it's not—it's not fair."

"Jungkook," you start gently, "I'm fine, you don't owe me—"

"It's not about owing," he interrupts, surprising himself with his boldness. His hands tremble, but his voice stays firm despite the lingering hiccups. "It's not fair that—hic—that you get to taste me and I don't get to taste you."

The words come out needier than he intended, more desperate, and he feels his face heat further. But he doesn't take them back. Can't take them back. Not when he's wanted this for so long—wanted to know what you taste like, what sounds you'd make, if you'd guide him with your hands in his hair like you did in the closet.

"Please, noona," he whispers, eyes wide and earnest despite the tears still clinging to his lashes. "Let me try? I—hic—I'll do whatever you tell me to. I'll be good, I promise."

Your eyebrows shoot up, surprise evident on your face, and Jungkook realizes you'd misunderstood—thought he meant it wasn't fair to you, when really... god, how could he explain that getting to taste you would be the biggest privilege of his life?

A soft chuckle escapes you, warm and amused. "Since when are you so bold, young mister?"

His face burns hotter, but he doesn't back down. Can't back down. Not when the thought of tasting you is making his head spin with want.

"Since—hic—since you let me have something I never thought I'd get," he admits, voice wavering but sincere. "And now I just... want more."

The last word comes out embarrassingly needy, but he's beyond caring at this point.

"More?" you echo, that amused smile still playing at your lips.

"Everything," he breathes, the word tumbling out before he can stop it. "Anything you'll give me. Please, noona. I just—I want to know what you taste like. Want to make you feel good like you made me feel good. Want to—hic—learn how to please you properly."

Your expression softens at his earnestness, at how desperately he's trying to convey just how much he wants this—wants you.

"You really want to taste me that badly?" you ask, standing up and pushing back the strands of hair falling in front of his eyes.

He nods frantically, leaning into your touch like a touch-starved kitten. "More than—hic—anything. Please?"

The way he says 'please'—all breathy and desperate—makes something in your expression shift. Your thumb brushes across his bottom lip, and he parts them instinctively, wanting to show you just how eager he is to learn.

"Such a good boy," you murmur, and his whole body shudders at the praise. "Always so polite when you beg."

Your words go straight to his dick, which—obviously—twitches back to life because apparently it has absolutely no shame when it comes to you. Zero self-control. None. Especially when you say things like "good boy" in that voice that makes his whole body feel like it's on fire.

"Oh, hi again," you chuckle, glancing down at his rapidly hardening length.

Something possesses him then—maybe it's the lingering high from his orgasm, or maybe it's just the way you're looking at him like he's actually worthy of your attention—but his hands move on their own, fingers trembling slightly as they cradle your jaw. He guides your face back up, wanting to see your eyes, needing to see them.

Then he's leaning down, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so soft it makes his chest ache.

When he pulls back, just enough to meet your gaze, his voice comes out as barely more than a whisper:

"Can I please, then?"

You nod with a smirk, and Jungkook's entire nervous system goes into overdrive.

Okay. Stay calm. Everyone stay fucking calm. His brain is firing signals in every direction like a broken switchboard—hey blood cells, maybe focus on making his tongue work instead of rushing to his dick again? Thanks.

You help him pull his sweats and briefs back up (and he tries very hard not to combust at how domestic that feels), then grab his wrist. His heart leaps into his throat as you lead him through your apartment, past the living room and—oh.

Oh.

That's... that's definitely your bedroom.

His eyes dart everywhere at once, trying to memorize every detail like he's studying for the most important test of his life.

There's a small plant on your windowsill (note to self: you like greenery), some photos on the wall (maybe he could get you a nice frame?), books scattered on your nightstand (he should ask what genres you—)

His mental catalog screeches to a halt as you sit on the edge of your bed, leaning back on your palms and looking up at him with that expression that makes his knees weak. Your eyes flick meaningfully to your sweats, and then:

"Take them off for me, Jungkook-ah?"

He actually chokes on his own spit, because what the fuck. How do you do that? How do you make simple requests sound like commands that make him want to drop to his knees and pledge eternal devotion?

Jungkook crouches down in front of you, his fingers trembling as they find the waistband of your sweats.

Oh god. Oh god. Is this happening? This is happening. He feels like he’s going to be sick. Or pass out. Or maybe combust entirely. His dick is already twitching against his thigh, and he’s genuinely terrified he might actually cum just from looking at you.

He swallows hard, trying to steady himself as he pushes the fabric down, watching with wide, reverent eyes as your sweats slide over your hips and down your legs. It feels surreal—like he’s in some kind of dream sequence or shooting a luxury lingerie ad. The way the fabric clings to your skin, catching briefly on your foot before sliding free under his careful fingers—it’s too much.

Too elegant. Too perfect.

And then they’re off, and he’s back on his knees, staring at you like you’re a goddess descended from the heavens. His gaze trails up your legs, over the soft curve of your thighs, until it lands on the black panties that cling to you in a way that makes his mouth salivate.

Oh god oh god oh god. He’s going to die. He’s going to die right here on your bedroom floor because there’s no way his body can handle this level of perfection.

But then—your fingertip touches his chin, tilting his face upward until he meets your gaze. His breath catches as you make a small beckoning motion with your finger, and he stumbles forward without hesitation, letting you guide him.

"You should start with kisses," you murmur softly, your voice low and inviting. "Come here."

His breath hitches audibly as you part your lips slightly, leaning back just enough to wait for him. He scrambles up a little higher, hands planting themselves awkwardly beside your thighs for balance as he leans in.

His lips meet yours again—soft at first, hesitant—but then you hum against his mouth, and it’s like something inside him snaps. His hands grip the bedspread tightly as he kisses you deeper, pouring every ounce of devotion and desperation into the press of his lips against yours.

Because this? This is everything. You’re everything. And he wants—no, needs—to show you just how much he means that.

Your lips move against his, slow and deliberate, guiding him like you’re teaching him a language he’s desperate to learn. Jungkook tries to follow your lead, tries to match the way your mouth parts just slightly, the way your tongue brushes against his bottom lip before retreating. He’s clumsy—he knows he is—but you don’t seem to mind. Every time he falters, you hum softly, tilting your head to show him how to angle his better, how to deepen the kiss without rushing.

It’s intoxicating. The way you taste, the way you feel—like you’re pouring all your patience and care into this one moment. He can barely keep up, his breaths coming in short, shaky bursts as his hands grip the bedspread tighter, knuckles white with the effort of not touching you anywhere else.

“Slower,” you murmur against his lips, and he nods frantically, trying to remember how to breathe as he adjusts his pace. Your tongue slides against his again—not too much, just enough—and it sends a shiver down his spine so intense he nearly collapses onto you.

He pulls back slightly, gasping for air as his chest heaves. His gaze flickers up to meet yours for a split second before snapping downward—and that’s when he sees it.

Your tank top has shifted slightly in all the movement, and now your nipples are peaked against the fabric, straining in a way that makes his brain completely shut down.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck.

He’s going to cum in five seconds if he doesn’t look away—if he doesn’t—

���Jungkook,” your voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts like a lifeline, and then your hands are cradling his face again, forcing him to look back up at you. Your thumbs brush gently over his cheeks as you smile softly.

“Take it off for me,” you say simply, nodding toward your tank top.

His breath catches audibly as his hands twitch at his sides.

"I—I—” Words fail him entirely because what the fuck is happening? Is this real? Are you actually asking him to—

“Go on,” you encourage gently, your voice steady and patient in a way that makes him melt. “You can do it.”

He swallows hard and nods shakily, his trembling hands moving toward the hem of your tank top like it’s some sacred artifact.

He almost fumbles the hem of your tank top. He swallows hard, his throat dry as he grips the fabric and starts to lift it, moving slowly, reverently, like he’s unwrapping the most precious gift in existence. The soft material slides up over your stomach, then your ribs, and then—oh god—your breasts.

He freezes for a moment, tank top bunched awkwardly in his hands as his gaze locks onto you.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

They’re perfect.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

Round and soft and exactly how he remembers them from the closet incident—how they felt in his hands, how they fit so perfectly against his palms like they were made for him. He’s revisited that moment in his head a hundred times since it happened, but seeing them now? Bare and right in front of him? It’s so much better than anything his imagination could’ve conjured.

His mouth goes dry as his eyes trace every curve, every detail. The way your nipples are peaked just slightly, the way your chest rises and falls with each breath—it’s mesmerizing. He feels like he should say something, do something, but all he can do is stare like a fucking idiot.

“Jungkook,” you chuckle softly, breaking the silence after what feels like an eternity. “Go on.”

Your voice snaps him out of his trance, and he realizes with a jolt that he’s still holding your tank top halfway up your body like some kind of moron. His face flushes bright red as he scrambles to pull it the rest of the way off, nearly tangling it in your hair before finally tossing it aside.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out immediately, his voice cracking as he looks back at you with wide, panicked eyes. “I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t trying to—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt gently, reaching out to cup his cheek again. “It’s okay.”

He nods frantically, still blushing furiously as his gaze flickers downward again—just for a second—before snapping back up to meet yours.

“You’re just—you’re so—” He cuts himself off with a strangled noise because there aren’t words for what you are.

Perfect doesn’t even begin to cover it.

You tap one of his hands where it's gripping the bedspread, and his gaze follows the movement before understanding clicks.

Oh.

You want his hand.

You're reaching for his hand and—oh fuck—pressing it against your breast.

He swallows thickly as his palm makes contact with soft, warm skin. It's exactly as perfect as he remembers from the closet, maybe even better because now he can actually see what he's touching.

His hand twitches automatically, squeezing slightly, and you hiss.

"Sorry!" he yelps immediately, trying to pull back, but you just chuckle and hold his hand in place.

"It's okay," you murmur, your voice gentle but firm. "Don't grab. You need to knead." Your fingers guide his, showing him how to massage properly. "And brush your thumb... here." You move his thumb to your nipple, and the soft sigh that escapes your lips makes his cock twitch violently against his thigh.

Fuck, that was hot. That was so fucking hot he might actually die.

"Roll it between your thumb and forefinger," you instruct softly, "and do the same with the other one."

Okay. Okay, he can do this. This is fine. This is totally fine. He's just touching the most perfect breasts in existence while trying not to cum in his pants. Again. No pressure.

His other hand moves up hesitantly to mirror the first, and when you make another pleased sound, his nonexistent tail practically wags. Each soft sigh that falls from your lips feels like a reward, like proof that he's doing something right for once.

He can't help himself—he leans in to kiss you again, unable to resist the way your mouth parts slightly with each breath. His hands work in tandem now, one kneading gently while the other plays with your nipple, and the moan you let out against his lips?

Yeah, that's getting filed away in his brain forever. Right next to his most precious memories, ready to be replayed approximately ten thousand times when he's alone.

Because holy fuck, the sounds you make. The way you feel. The fact that you're letting him touch you like this, teaching him how to please you—it's almost too much. Almost overwhelming in how perfect it is.

But he wants more. Wants to earn more of those sounds, more of those sighs, more of everything you're willing to give him.

"Noona, I'm gonna cum," Jungkook stammers against your lips when you finally let him breathe.

He doesn't even know why he says it—except that it's absolutely true. His cock is twitching violently against his thigh, ready to explode at any second because apparently that's just what his body does around you now.

You chuckle warmly, and he almost starts crying again because god, he's so fucking embarrassing. But then your hand is in his hair, stroking gently, and your voice is so soft when you ask:

"Is this your first time? With breasts?"

He looks away, cheeks burning as he nods shyly. He can't bring himself to meet your eyes, too afraid of what he might see there.

"That's normal then," you assure him, fingers still carding through his hair. "Everything feels more intense the first time."

He glances back at you, heart stuttering at the gentle understanding in your expression. There's no judgment there, no mockery—just warmth and something that makes his chest ache.

"You can cum while sucking and playing with my tits if you want," you murmur, and the eager moan that escapes him should be mortifying but somehow isn't. Not when you're looking at him like that, like his enthusiasm is endearing rather than pathetic.

You lean back onto the bed, and his mouth goes dry as he watches you position yourself. He follows eagerly, hovering over you before leaning down to take one nipple between his lips. The moment his mouth makes contact, your back arches slightly and your fingers find his hair again.

Oh fuck.

The sound you make—this soft, breathy thing—nearly sends him over the edge right there.

His hand finds your other breast, kneading and rolling the nipple between his fingers like you taught him, while his free hand fumbles desperately with his sweats, shoving them down just enough to wrap around his leaking cock.

He's so close already, pre-cum making his fingers slide easily as he strokes himself. Every little gasp and sigh you make sends sparks down his spine, making his hips buck into his own grip as he sucks and licks at your nipple like his life depends on it.

"Can I—" Jungkook chokes out between desperate pants, "Can I cum on your—your tits? Please?"

You nod softly, and he almost sobs with relief as he positions himself, straddling your waist. His hand works frantically over his length as he stares down at your perfect breasts, and then he's cumming with a broken moan, painting white stripes across your skin.

"I'm sorry," he stammers immediately, mortified at the mess he's made. But you just shake your head, reaching for some wipes from your nightstand.

"Stop apologizing," you murmur, but before you can clean yourself, he's already grabbing the wipes from your hand.

"Let me," he insists softly, carefully wiping his traces from your skin with reverent attention.

Once you're clean, he can't help himself—he leans down to press soft kisses against your breasts again. And again. And then he's back to sucking and kissing your nipples because how could he not? The content hum you make only encourages him further.

But then you're tugging gently at his hair, making him look up at you. "You can start kissing your way down," you tell him, and his face flushes crimson even as his cock twitches with renewed interest.

Yes. Fuck yes. Thank you god and jesus and buddha and whoever else is listening.

He starts trailing kisses down your stomach, each press of his lips deliberate and worshipful. When he reaches the edge of your panties, he pauses, moving to kneel between your thighs at the foot of the bed. His hands shake as he hooks his fingers in the waistband, and you lift your hips to help him slide them off.

Then you spread your legs, and holy fuck. The sight of your pussy—bare and glistening and so fucking perfect—draws a deep groan from his chest. You're so wet, so ready for his tongue, and he's pretty sure he's actually died and gone to heaven.

"Fuck," he breathes, staring at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Because you are. You absolutely are.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers up, and his breath catches when he sees you propped up on your elbows, watching him with a soft, almost amused look. Your fingers slide into his messy hair, carding through it gently, and his heart stutters in his chest. He swallows hard, his voice barely above a whisper as he asks,

“Can I…?”

You nod, your lips curving into a small smile. “Yes.”

Okay. Okay. He can do this. He just has to remember what Taehyung and Jimin told him—don’t overthink it, listen to her cues, focus on what she likes—but oh god, he really doesn’t need to think about Taehyung and Jimin right now. What the fuck, brain? Not helpful.

He shakes his head quickly, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts as he refocuses on you—glistening and beautiful and so fucking damp it makes his heart race. He did that. He got you like that. The realization sends a fresh wave of heat through him, and he feels his cock twitch against his thigh.

“Start slow,” you murmur softly, your fingers still threading through his hair. “Use your tongue first. Just… explore.”

He nods eagerly, leaning in closer until he can feel the heat radiating off you. His tongue flicks out tentatively, tracing a slow line up your folds, and the quiet sigh you let out makes him shiver.

“Good,” you hum encouragingly, and he nearly preens at the praise. “Now try circling around my clit—gently.”

He follows your instructions immediately, his tongue moving in slow circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. The way your hips shift slightly in response sends a thrill through him, and he presses in just a little harder.

“Not too much pressure,” you warn gently, your hand tightening slightly in his hair to guide him. “Keep it soft for now.”

“Okay,” he mumbles against you, adjusting his movements until your soft hum of approval tells him he’s doing it right.

“Now try flicking your tongue,” you instruct softly. “Just there—yes, like that.”

The sound you make when he obeys is enough to make him moan into you, his hands gripping your thighs for support as he loses himself in the taste of you. Each little noise of pleasure that escapes your lips feels like a reward, spurring him on as he tries to remember everything you’re teaching him.

“Good boy,” you murmur again, and fuck—he’s pretty sure he could cum just from hearing those words alone.

Jungkook’s tongue moves with trembling focus, every flick and stroke guided by your soft instructions. The taste of you is overwhelming—sweet and musky and perfect—and he can’t get enough. His nose brushes against your clit as he laps at you, and the way your thighs tighten around his head makes him dizzy with pride.

“Slower,” you breathe, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He obeys immediately, easing the pressure as he circles your clit with featherlight strokes. The whimper you let out sends a bolt of heat straight to his cock, which is already leaking against his thigh again. God, he’s so fucking sensitive right now.

“Use your fingers,” you murmur, your voice strained. “Just one… inside me. Slowly.”

His breath hitches as he pulls back slightly, his lips glistening. He’s shaking so badly he can barely coordinate his hands, but he manages to press a single finger against your entrance, sliding it in with painstaking care. The way you clench around him makes his head spin.

“Good,” you gasp, hips lifting off the bed. “Now curl it—there—”

He obeys, crooking his finger upward, and the choked moan you release is the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. His cock throbs, but he ignores it, too focused on watching your face—the way your brows knit together, the way your lips part as you pant.

“Add another,” you say, your nails scraping gently against his scalp.

He slides a second finger in, marveling at how you stretch around him, how impossibly hot you feel. Your hips grind down against his hand, and he scrambles to keep up, curling and scissoring his fingers the way Jimin had described during their mortifying “lesson.”

“Fuck—Jungkook—” Your voice cracks, and he looks up to see your back arching off the bed, your free hand fisting the sheets. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop—”

He doesn’t. Couldn’t if he tried. Not when you’re falling apart above him, your thighs trembling as he works you closer. Your clit is swollen under his tongue, and he flicks it faster, matching the rhythm of his fingers.

“I’m close,” you warn, your voice pitching higher. “Keep going, just like that—”

He moans against you, the vibration making you cry out. Your hips stutter, and then you’re clenching around his fingers so tightly he can barely move them. The sound you make—a raw, unfiltered gasp—echoes in his bones as you shudder through your release.

He keeps licking, keeps fingering you through it until your hand yanks his hair back gently.

“Enough, baby,” you pant, chest heaving. “You’ll overstimulate me.”

He pulls back immediately, fingers slipping free as he stares up at you in awe. Your skin is flushed, your hair fanned out around you like a halo, and he’s pretty sure he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“Come here,” you murmur, patting the bed beside you.

He scrambles up, still trembling, his sweats clinging to his hips. You reach for him the moment he’s within reach, pulling him into a searing kiss that tastes like you. His hips jerk forward instinctively, his cock grinding against your thigh, and he breaks the kiss with a whine.

“Shh,” you soothe, your hand sliding down to palm him through his sweats. “You did so well. Let noona take care of you now.”

He nods frantically, his breath hitching as you tug his sweats down. Your hand wraps around him, and he nearly sobs at the contact.

“Look at me,” you command softly, and his teary eyes snap to yours. “You can let go. I’ve got you.”

It takes three strokes. Three strokes and the way you’re looking at him—proud, affectionate, hungry—and he’s coming with a broken cry, stripes of white painting your stomach.

He collapses against you, boneless and spent, his face buried in your neck as you stroke his hair.

“Good boy,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his temple. “So good for me.”

He doesn’t have the energy to respond, but he nuzzles closer, his heart swelling so big it threatens to burst.

Twenty minutes later, after cleaning you both up with trembling hands and bringing you water, he's curled around you in bed, his nose buried in your hair. His cock is already stirring against your thigh because apparently his body has absolutely no chill when it comes to you.

"Noona?" he whispers, fingers tracing idle patterns on your hip.

"Hmm?"

He swallows hard, gathering his courage. "I need to tell you something."

You shift slightly to look at him, and his heart stutters at how soft your expression is. "What is it?"

"I'm..." He takes a shaky breath. "I'm Spider-Man."

There's a pause, and then you... laugh? Not mockingly—just this warm, gentle sound that makes his chest tight.

"I know," you say simply, reaching up to brush his hair from his forehead.

His eyes widen comically. "You—what? How long have you—?"

"Jungkook-ah," you interrupt softly, "you pulled me away from a bus from five meters away. And you're literally always wherever I am. And you bring me the exact snacks I mention wanting, even when you weren't there when I said it."

"Oh." He flushes, ducking his head. "Was I that obvious?"

"Extremely." Your fingers card through his hair, and he melts into the touch. "But it's cute that you finally told me."

He peeks up at you through his lashes. "You're not... mad?"

"That you're Spider-Man? No." You smile. "That you stalked me? Maybe a little."

"I wasn't stalking!" he protests immediately. "I was... protecting!"

"Uh-huh." Your tone is teasing, and he pouts until you lean in to kiss him softly. "Sure you were."

When you pull back, his expression has shifted to something more... heated. His cock twitches against your thigh, and you raise an eyebrow.

“So… since you’re not mad…”

“Yes?”

“Can we… go again?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Again?”

“Yeah,” he blurts. “I’ve got—uh—stamina. Like, a lot. Super… stamina. From the… you know.” He gestures vaguely at nothing. “Spider… stuff.”

You snort, clearly fighting a laugh. “Is that so?”

“Yes!” He nods frantically, hands flailing as he tries to explain. “I can go for hours! Days! Well, not days, but—I mean, I could eat you out again right now if you let me. Please? You don’t even have to touch me! I’ll just—I’ll jerk off while I do it. I can cum three or four more times, easy. Maybe five? Let’s try five.”

You stare at him.

He wilts slightly. “Or… two? Two’s good. Two’s cool.”

“Jungkook.”

“Yes?”

“Come here.”

He scrambles up immediately, eyes bright and hopeful. You cup his face, your thumb brushing over his pouty bottom lip. “You want to taste me that badly?”

He nods so fast it’s a miracle he doesn’t give himself whiplash. “Please.”

“Okay,” you say, flopping back onto the pillows. “But slowly this time. I’m not a superhero.”

He’s already scrambling down the bed, eyes gleaming. “Yes. Yes, okay, slowly. Got it. Thank you. Thank you.”

You snort as his lips find your inner thigh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously grateful,” he mumbles against your skin, and the vibration makes you laugh again.

Not done, he thinks, and this time, he’s grinning.

© jungkoode 2025

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

TAGLIST:

@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @somehowukook @stuti2904 @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @rpwprpwprpwprw @jimineepaboya @ahgasegotarmy116 @chloepiccoliniii

[myblog-mp3]

ok ig I'm doing one of these then

10 notes- I'll go drink some water

20 notes- I'll brush my hair

30 notes- I'll post a drawing i did

50 notes- i'll have a shower (pls don't judge me i've had no motivation recently)

100 notes- I'll drink water properly for a week

150 notes- I'll start another drawing

200 notes- I'll do a moots list in my intro

300 notes- I'll eat three meals tdy (whenever i hit the goal)

500- I'll tidy my room

750- I'll do a special like the ones ppl do for followers but not for a follower celebration

1000- I'll sort out my sleep schedule and sleep properly for a week

1500- I'll do some of this thing i have to do but can be bothered to and it's rly stressing me out so yh

2000- I'll revise everything i need to for tests I've got coming up

red - reached

orange - doing

crossed out - done

[brights-place]

Ace and his U.M (Unique Magic)

Ace and his unique magic I think was actually not suprising to me because I was guessing and rambling to friends about the signs created about Ace and his future unique magic. One where he could be so OP and copy someone elses unique magic... WHICH WAS RIGHT ALONG WITH THAT PERSON WHO ALSO THOUGHT ACE IS U.M WAS COPYING BRO WAS ALSO A PROPHET LMAO!! anyways

It took 4 years to see his U.M so YAYY we finally got everybody's U.M so here am I to ramble about how Ace just whipped out a huge uno reverse card to whoever he's going to verse

So heres a ramble from me!! someone who rarely analyzes things but wanted to ramble anyways! Also this might not make sense because Im not good at explaining stuff that well I MAY WRITE BUT ANALYZING STUFF IS TOTALLY OUT OF MY LEAGUE UNLESS ITS SOMTH I CAN GRIND FOR HOURS ON I mean it goes for TWST but I can't word it right at all smh...

Ace is U.M was offically shown in Book 7-290 where he instantly went to help his friends in the fight with riddle.

In battle Ace himself admits his fear of failure by sharing the fact that he's afraid of failing everyone while the MC is there to reassure him along with the fact Grim encourages him by telling him that Ace can do it because we believe he can. Their support, their encouragement and reassurance is what brings Ace the strength to continue on thats what helped build up to his unique magic

“I’m going to take your special treat! Joker Snatch (Or translated to Give me your trump card) After ace has casted his U.M onto Riddle whats even funnier is he used RIDDLES own magic against him collaring his housewarden.

Ace and his unique magic is known as ‘Joker Snatch’ which gives the magic user the power to steal or copy their opponent's unique magic. Same abilities as Azul and Trey with the two’s U.M which is “Its a deal” and “Doodle Suite”

I wanted to explain about how we not only got hints of it but right on conversations from Ace about it even before he got it.

To start off first is Ace is name. Ace Trappola

Trappola is the name of an old Italian card game that stands out as the first one in which the ace is considered the highest-value card, and ranks above the king.

The change for this was because of changed following the French Revolution in the 1500 after which the Ace was promoted to the highest card in the deck-11- a symbolic nod to the overthrow of France's nobility and rise of the commoner a single number that outeanks it all.

Because ace was traditionally the lowest card in the deck until angry French proletariats overthrew their monarchy.

In games based on the superiority of one rank over another, such as most trick-taking games, the ace counts highest, outranking even the king. Which makes me focus on the Red Tyrant arc when Ace attacked Riddle not only once but TWICE for the males seat as housewarden and when Riddle overblotted. Correction Three times as we add Riddles Dream where they have to fight Riddle. Ace standing up to people in positions of authority who are objectively stronger than himself shows how an ACE is higher then any other rank no matter what because Ace is himself someone who may be in a group yet by itself/himself is strong on its own/

With the hints laid between chapters and vignettes the whole Unique magic was dangling right infront of our eyes ALSO SHOUT OUT TO THAT PERSON ON TIKTOK WHO GOT IT RIGHT BECAUSE I KNEW IT TOO I WAS SCREECHING!! Ahem

A conversation in Ace is dorm vignette shows with him talking with cater how he was able to 'steal' skills from others paying attention, along with the fact he’s good at mimicking people’s voices and it was repeatedly said that he’s good at copying stuff / is a fast learner. He is able to bend these things to his own will at the same time. In the same vignette we also see that Ace is impressive short-term memory is confirmed he is adept at mimicking those around him, or both. In his dorm vignette, Ace learns multiple things from Rook in order to get the missing hedgehogs back into heartslabyul along with the fact he was able to easily copy Vil is strutting in the Fairy Gala event after heckling and mocking jack. Another example is Ace able to copy his brother & fathers magic tricks. His older brother is his only sibling, seven years older, a former Heartslabyul student and NRC graduate.

With the fact Ace likes to do tricks infront of people like Deuce to scare them entertained by their shock of him doing things that they wouldn’t expect.

Ace explains that it was his brother who taught him how to lie convincingly and that he learned slight-of-hand by memorizing his brother’s motions since his brother refused to teach him directly, and Cater compliments him on being able to pick things up on his own and think so quickly on his feet.

Ace explains himself that “Most things, you can imitate if you see ‘em enough and pay enough attention.” another example and hint for his U.M Riddle also takes Ace is memorization telling him that he should do the same to memorize the Queen of Hearts’ Code which Ace denies quickly stating his way of memorization is different to memorizing the ones for the queen of hearts. These examples show how Ace is able to adapt to situations copy others in situations rembering the slightest bit of details even witnessing their unique magics only once but is able to get the hand of them easily yet his U.M could mean he has a higher chance of gaining blot.

Ace is such a good character I can't write anything that explains much well but I do wanna improve on that but Ace is a character was the first one we met who was able to stand up to people in higher positions with help of the [MC] pushing him even without a U.M dealing with overblots and now somebody who was helped by [MC] again who cheered him on to BEAT Riddle in a fight again but this time with a U.M The start and THE END was Ace being beside [MC] who pushed him forward in these situations and Ace being able to be vulnerable hits hard along with Deuce WHO HITS HARDER WITH HIS U.M WHEN THEY TOOK DOWN RIDDLE YEAHHHH. Anyways thanks for coming to my yap session It probs wasn't explained well but to wrap it up. Ace is unique magic was right there infront of us building up. How he's a quick thinker, a fast learner able to understand something, pick up a trait from someone else easily since he was younger that he was able to do it himself without being guided to do so and facing both times against riddle with the help of [MC] to push himself harder even when he thought he was going to fail the time when Riddle Overblotted, and when Riddle fought them using riddles own skill against him. Though we don't know the drawbacks caused by Ace is U.M like I said he could have higher chances of overblotting do certain Unique magic he uses from someone else cause his body harm and changes? like with Leona would he have cracks in his hands if he ever used it because of the sand? with cater if he duplicates himself would he get light headed because his body isn't used to it like cater's is? does he have scars from trying to use someone else is unique magic knowing the drawbacks but harm will still happen? will his body ache if he used fae of maleficence ? we don't know what could happen to ace with his unique magic and the drawbacks so for now its unkown. Ace is such a good character and I'm glad we got his Unquiet magic finally and I'm so happy to finally see it now that we got it all <33 ── .✦ Back to where I was tweakin

[idiomagic]

This is my beautiful guy Spy Boy, also known as Commodore SpyBoy captain of the SS TinyMan. He is my best friend, my soulmate.

Yesterday, we had to rush him to the emergency vet, where they found he has pancreatitis and diabetes.

The emergency vet had us rush him to an emergency pet hospital, where he's spending the next few days.

They think he's going to be okay, but he'll need insulin and a special diet for the rest of his life.

The emergency vet visit was $1500, including all the tests. And the hospital gave us an estimate of between $4000 and $8000. My husband was laid off last week. I'm disabled and can't work. We desperately need assistance. I'm going to put together a gofundme as soon as I can stop crying. My Venmo is @GwyndynAlexander I'm a tiny blog with very few followers. Please, if you see this, reblog... I'm so worried about my little guy.

[xxsycamore]

🔞IKEMEN BREEDING SEASON🔞 - XXSYCAMORE'S 2000 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION EVENT

On October 28th, 2024, this blog hit 2K followers! Once again, thank you, everyone, for the support, and for sticking around in my writing adventures. I hope you can continue enjoying my work! Now, our previous milestone celebrations were all about fluffy short stories, so I figured it's high time we bring some smut into the mix. Even though spring would have been perfect for the Ikemen Breeding Season, I decided, why wait when we can have it now. Besides, that time is reserved for part 2 of our Steal My Heart!! (1500 followers) event! If you have placed a request for it and haven't received a ficlet yet, don't worry, I haven't deleted anything! :)

➺ PROMPTS

How do you want the suitor to breed you (or the MC)? :

In the heat of the moment

As proof that you belong to them

To produce an heir

With a chance for twins

While imagining you being pregnant

Making sure that it takes

Making the moment special

When they'd already gotten you pregnant before

With you taking the lead

While you're in heat (Omegaverse)

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 2 separate request openings - Since in the past there have been times when everything has been grabbed in the first 10 minutes from the announcement, I decided it would only be fair for the people in different time zones if I divide it into two batches at different times of the day.

FIRST REQUEST OPENING WILL HAPPEN ON OCTOBER 30TH, 12 PM UTC (8 AM EDT) (or click here to see it converted to your time zone)

SECOND REQUEST OPENING WILL HAPPEN ON OCTOBER 31TH, 12 AM UTC (8 PM EDT on the 30th) (or click here to see it converted to your time zone)

Both request openings will be closed after I get a total of 15 requests each! I will make separate posts to announce when those start and close.

➺ RULES:

Understand that these are going to be short NSFW stories, around 500 words each.

Anonymous asks are allowed, but please don't abuse my kindness and don't request if you're a minor!

Pick a character from the list below and a prompt from the prompt list. Threesomes are allowed, so long as no one is related, lol.

Be sure to let me know if you want MC x Suitor(s) or Reader x Suitor(s). If you don't specify, I'll write it as I see fit!

Specify your gender preferences if you have any! If you selected "Reader", I'll by default write them with afab traits. This goes especially for the prompt "Imagining you pregnant" where you could encounter terms including but not limited to: breasts, lactation, love handles, vagina, ovulation, womb, ovaries, pregnant bellies, you get the picture. To bypass all of this, you can ask for a Gender Neutral Reader, or you can be more specific and tell me your preferences in detail.

Mpreg is welcome, sure, why not. This goes both for Male Readers and for Getting your suitor pregnant, like in the case where you picked the Omegaverse prompt and he's an Omega. Go wild.

OCs are NOT allowed, due to how short these stories are going to be versus the research required in order to do justice to your OC. Sorry!

Don't send multiple requests! One per person. Again, I'm put my trust in you about not abusing the anon option.

In the event where I've already received the same prompt with the same character, I'll only write it once!

Don't hesitate to give me details! :) I want to create a work specially crafted for you. If you have a whole scenario in mind, I'd love to hear it, even if I have to squeeze it in the word limit. Where are they doing it, what is the reader wearing, what petname the suitor uses - these are just a few examples! Additionally, since I haven't read all the routes of the characters listed here, if you feel it's needed, you can provide some in-game information about the character if it has a relation to topic. Ex: "I think he'll make a great family man because he canonly loves taking care of the younger ones."

Requests sent outside of the specified time periods won't be accepted. I try to immediately answer these so you'll know, but I might also straight-up delete anything that doesn't follow the rules.

➺ AVAILABLE CHARACTERS:

Ikemen Villains: Wiliam; Harrison; Liam; Elbert; Alfons; Roger; Jude; Ellis; Victor; Darius; Nica; Ring

Ikemen Prince: Leon; Chevalier; Yves; Nokto; Licht; Jin; Luke; Clavis; Rio; Sariel; Gilbert; Keith; Silvio, Cyran/Cyril, Matthias, Kagari

Ikemen Vampire: Napoleon(pls); Leonardo; Mozart; Arthur; Vincent; Theo; Isaac; Jean; Dazai; Sebastian; Comte; Shakespeare; Vlad; Faust; Charles; Drake; Galileo

Ikemen Revolution: Lancelot; Ray; Jonah; Fenrir; Edgar; Sirius; Kyle; Luka; Zero; Seth; Blanc; Oliver; Loki; Harr; Mousse; Dalim; Dean; Levie

Ikemen Sengoku: Nobunaga; Masamune; Shingen; Hideyoshi; Mitsuhide; Kanetsugu; Ieyasu; Mitsunari; Yukimura; Sasuke; Kenshin; Kenyo; Ranmaru; Motonari; Keiji; Kicho; Yoshimoto

Midnight Cinderella: Alyn; Giles; Louis; Leo; Byron; Nico; Albert; Robert; Rayvis; Sid

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆

Please understand that I can't guarantee that I'm going to write all of these! I have a lot of issues IRL that I need to take care of, which leads me to either not having a lot of free time or not having the needed energy and inspiration to write. Either way, I hope you can have fun with this event! I can't wait to see what you send me. Have a great day, and I'll see you in my askbox soon! <3

[twinsimming]

New Scholarships by Twinsimming 🎓

"Need some extra simoleons for university? Sims University now offers a variety of scholarships for prospective students!"

This is a script mod that can be placed in your Packages folder. It was built and tested on 1.69 but should work fine on 1.67.

Requirements

To access all of the scholarships available with this mod, the following packs and store content are required:

The Sims 3: World Adventures

The Sims 3: Ambitions

The Sims 3: Generations

The Sims 3: Showtime

The Sims 3: Supernatural

The Sims 3: Seasons

The Sims 3: University Life

The Sims 3: Island Paradise

The Sims 3: Into the Future

Fit As a Fiddle Violin (The Sims 3 Store)

Artisan Glassblowing Station (The Sims 3 Store)

Stiff as a Board, Light as a Feather Dance Floor (The Sims 3 Store)

Overview

Applying for Scholarships

Types of Scholarships

Maintaining Scholarships

New Moodlets

Online Aptitude Test

New Cheat

Applying for Scholarships

Teen sims and older have a new “Apply for Scholarships” interaction available at the school rabbithole or on the computer under “Sims University Online”. Though they’re less likely to win a scholarship if they apply online rather than in person.

If your sim wins a scholarship, they will not be able to reapply for that scholarship again. If they do not win, they will be given a Disappointed moodlet and have to wait a day before applying again.

Types of Scholarships

There are four (4) types of scholarships your sims can apply for: General, Legacy, Skill Based, and Occult. In total, there are 18 scholarships, each with their own custom moodlet. 

Sims have a 45% chance of winning a scholarship in the General, Legacy, and Occult categories when applying in-person and a 40% chance when applying online.

Sims have a 6% chance of winning a Skill Based scholarship at Level 1 of the required skill. This chance multiplies with each skill level, with a maximum of a 60% chance at Level 10.

Certain traits can either increase or decrease your chance of winning a scholarship by 5% (note: this value stacks the more traits your sim has):

Increased Chance Traits - Lucky and Ambitious

Decreased Chance Traits - Unlucky and Loser

Some of the scholarship names are originally from The Sims 2 and the others I made up myself. They are listed below by category:

General

Young Entrepreneurs Award (§750) - Requires Level 3 part-time job, Teen only

Orphaned Sims Assistance Fund (§750) - Requires deceased or non-existing parents, Teen only

Golden Year Scholars Grant (§1000) - Elders only

Gemini Hidden Masters Prize (§1500) - Requires Level 10 in one hidden skill

Legacy

Student Service Workers Fund (§1000) - For sims with a service worker hidden trait (Makes No Messes, Pyromaniac, Can Apprehend Burglar, Can Salute, Immune To Fire, or Pizza Appreciator)

Cultural Exchange Program (§1000) - For sims with one of the hidden culture traits from The Sims 3: World Adventures

Students of Tomorrow Scholarship (§1000) - For sims with the hidden Future Sim trait from The Sims 3: Into the Future

Skill Based

Dreamer Family Artisan Award (§750) - Requires at least Level 1 Artisan Skill

Tsang Footwork Award (§750) - Requires at least Level 1 Dance (Store) Skill

Violin Society of SimNation Scholarship (§750) - Requires at least Level 1 Violin Skill

Occult

Undead Education Scholarship (§1500) - For Vampires, Zombies, and Ghosts

Extraterrestrial Reparation Grant (§1500) - For Aliens and sims recently abducted by Aliens

Spellcasting Scholars Grant (§1500) - For Witches, Fairies, and Genies

Lycanthropy Philanthropy Fund (§1500) - For Werewolves

Bots Opportunity To Specialize (B.O.T.S.) (§1500) - For Simbosts and Plumbots

Forbidden Fruit Fellowship (§1500) - For PlantSims

Real World Acclimation Fund (§1500) - For Real Imaginary Friends

Aquatic Allies Award (§1500) - For Mermaids

Maintaining Scholarships

After winning a scholarship, your sim will get the new custom Won Scholarship moodlet. They have a week to either enroll in online university with my Attend University Online mod, or in-person university to remain eligible for their scholarship.

If they fail to enroll in time, their scholarship will be rescinded and they will have to pay back the money they were awarded. If they can’t afford to pay back the scholarship amount in full, it will be added to their next household bill. (No free money here!)

Once a sim has a scholarship rescinded, they will get the new custom Lost Scholarship moodlet and be barred from applying for scholarships for 3 days.

New Moodlets

Won Scholarship: Given when a sim wins a scholarship, lasts 1 day, +20 mood, each scholarship has its own custom moodlet icon

Lost Scholarship: Given when a sim has a scholarship rescinded, lasts 3 days, -20 mood, makes sims stressed

Online Aptitude Test

Teen sims and older can now take the university aptitude test on the computer under “Sims University Online”. It works the same as the default interaction.

Tuning

All of the tunable values can be found on the mod download page under the header “Tuning”.

New Cheat

If you want to clear all scholarship winners in your world (on a per save basis), enter the cheat menu and type “ClearScholarshipWinnerData” without the quotation marks.

Conflicts & Known Issues

This is a new script mod so there shouldn’t be any conflicts.

Credits

EA/Maxis for The Sims 3 and The Sims 4, Visual Studio 2019, ILSpy, s3pe, Notepad++, and Script Mod Template Creator.

Thank You

Thank you to gamefreak130, Battery, @zoeoe-sims, @greenplumbboblover​, and @monocodoll!

If you like my work, please consider tipping me on Ko-fi 💙

Download @ ModTheSims

[natashaismylove]

Another life |N. Romanoff

Summary: Natasha and Y/n’s secret relationship will soon come to an end.

Pairing: G!p Natasha x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Set in the 1500s, Angst, Smut, Unprotected sex, Vaginal sex, Belly bulge kink, Praise, Hair pulling, Arranged marriage, Forbidden love. 18+ Minors DNI

Word count: 1059

═════════☾☆☽═════════

You knocked on the door before opening it, the creaking noise loud in your ears. You stepped inside and you saw Natasha lying on her bed.

“Are you about to sleep?” You asked as you closed the door behind you.

She smiled softly and sat up against the headboard. “I was, but I always have time for you.”

You returned her smile, stepping further into the room. “I wanted to see you.”

She got up from the bed and moved towards you. “I’m glad.”

You placed your hands on her waist as she brushed her knuckles over your cheek. You pulled her closer, holding her body against yours. “I‘ve missed you.”

She leaned in and rested her forehead on yours. “It’s only been two days.”

“I know.” You answered with a playful smirk.

You saw her look down at your lips before looking back into your eyes. You were quick to press your lips against hers in a tender kiss. You pulled away after a few seconds, memorizing every detail on her face while she had her eyes closed.

“I didn’t expect you to come.” She whispered before opening her eyes.

You smiled at her before dragging one of the straps of her nightgown off of her shoulder. You did the same with the other one and watched as the fabric pooled around her feet. You took the time to admire every inch of her bare body, every curve and perfect imperfections. You stepped away and reached back to unbutton your dress, following her movements with your eyes as she sat down on the edge of her bed.

“Come here.” She said as you now stood naked in front of her.

You straddled her and gave her a shy smile as she wrapped her fingers around her length. “Do you want me inside of you?” She asked.

You nodded and lifted your hips, keeping eye contact with her as she lined herself up with you. You watched her eyes roll back as you slowly slid down onto her. You let out a breath once she was fully in, and she carefully started rocking your hips back and forth as she leaned against you.

You felt her breath against your cheek and you placed your hands on the back of her neck, grasping her hair desperately. Her hands moved up to your sides, leaving a warmth behind on your hips where they had just rested. She kissed across your jaw and down your neck, lightly nipping on your skin with her teeth. 

“Don’t leave marks.” you breathed out.

“I won't, don’t worry,” she assured you as she moved her lips back up your neck to meet your own in a heated kiss.

Her breast brushed against your bare nipples, causing a shiver to run through your body. She ran her hand over your stomach, lightly pressing on the slight bulge.

“Feel how deep I’m inside of you?” She spoke into your ear, and her raspy voice made your stomach flutter. 

You nodded, moving your hips up and down her dick as you straddled her. “So deep.”

She slid her hands down to your ass before squeezing. “Is it filling you up nicely, sweetheart?”

You hummed in pleasure, nodding once more as you closed your eyes. “Yes.”

She kissed your collarbone, using her hands to guide you in riding her. “Good. Wanna make you feel so good…”

You rolled your hips, letting out a moan as she brushed so perfectly against that one special spot inside of you. 

You opened your eyes and looked down at her, brushing some of the hair away that was sticking to her sweaty forehead. You leaned in and kissed her desperately, needing to be as close to her as possible. Your lips opened to let her tongue meet yours, her hands gripping your hips harder. You pulled away to moan her name, tangling your fingers into her hair again before pulling on it.

She groaned in pleasure from the slight pain on her scalp. “What is it, sweetheart? What do you need?” She asked out of breath from the kiss.

“Need to come, I want to come so badly.” You mustered up the words, your mind already starting to fog.

“Yeah? You're going to come for me?” She smirked.

You nodded quickly. “Yes, gonna come for you!”

She hummed. “Do it, let me know how good I’m making you feel.”

Your mouth opened in a silent moan as your eyes closed. A tightening formed in your stomach, quickly erupting into ecstasy and lighting your body on fire. 

Natasha’s constant praise into your ear and her hands on your hips guided you through your orgasm. You slowly came to as her lips peppered kisses all over your shoulder before moving onto your face.

“So good, sweetheart, did so amazing for me. My perfect girl.” She muttered against your forehead.

You let her hold you against her as you regained your energy, and slowly you felt your mind become clear again. You sat up more and leaned a little away from her.

She gave you a sad look. “Please don’t go.”

You sighed, returning her sad expression. “I’m sorry, Natasha.”

She searched your eyes, clearly seeing the hesitation in them. “You don’t want to, please don’t.”

“I have to.” You cupped her cheek, feeling your heart break as she leaned into your touch. “I’m truly sorry, my love.”

You saw tears well up in her eyes as you moved off of her, reaching for your dress that had been discarded onto the floor earlier.

“I love you.” She whispered.

You met her gaze as you put on your dress. “I love you too, but I have to do this for my family. You know I don’t want to marry him, but I have to.”

She slipped her nightgown onto her naked body, standing up as you turned away from her. She placed her hands on your back before she buttoned up your dress, pressing a tender kiss to the back of your neck. She wrapped her arms around your waist and you leaned back against her.

“In another life…” you started as you looked out the window, your eyes focused on the moon lighting up the night sky. “In another life, we’ll be together. I promise you that.”

She rested her chin on your shoulder. “Another life…”

═════════☾☆☽═════════

Taglist: @sayah13 @aflopmop @agent99galanzo @abeillesurlalunerose @thenazwife @shayzulia @elenaguarnieri @mrsromanovaa @therealwanda @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @meshuganna @luccyland @alwaysgoodnight @sheneonromanoff @mrromanoff @lesbean-slut @alwaysharmony @i-loveyoubutyourenotmine @wizardofstories @the-night-owl-blr @riveramorylunar @wandaspropertyonly @inluvwithfictionalwomen @arabellaolsen @lovelyy-moonlight @nclgsticore @madelinelcl @justemiris @natashamaximoff69

[creepling]

FICS FOR GAZA !

hello peeps! i am taking part in wip sponsorships for @ficsforgaza to help out with donations for the many fundraisers they have linked.

to meet with the terms, i am only offering sponsorships of works about video game characters. this includes my usual tcm game wips, alongside one i have of boomer from ssktjl.

here is an outline of steps to participate; send a screenshot that is proof of donation alongside the wip you are sponsoring into my inbox. $1 donated to a fundraiser = 100 words written for the sponsored wip. the word counts i provide are just rough estimations and i am willing to go over if the donations go higher! once a work is completed, i will give special thanks to donators for their contribution to the fic and the aid for gaza!

my limit is $20 for 2k, but feel free to donate as much as you can seperately from my wips!

click here for a further explanation from ficsforgaza if you are still unsure. their blog also has tabs on FAQ, fundraisers and all the info you need.

reminder: do not donate to ME. only send me proof of donation.

MY WIPS

BAD TINDER DATE WITH BOOMER (title still to be decided)

ssktjl!captain boomerang x fem!reader. bad first impressions. enemies to lovers. eventual smut? mini-fic series.

you have a reputation for liking the bad boys. your friends have warned you'll get your heart broken and it's time to move on to better things. after a horrible date with the aussie boomerang-slinger, you decide to finally take their advice. but it's not that easy moving on. there is something about him you can't get enough of...

progress: 676/6000 words

TO DEVOUR IS TO LOVE: CHAPTER 2

tcm game original character. multiple ships. dead dove - do not eat. general tags on this post.

in the second chapter, winona slaughter is navigating through the city life. fate aligns with her hunger and she crosses paths with maria flores and her group of friends. all is well as they take the abnormal, but intriging rural girl under their wing. but winona is struggling to cope with the buffet that she surrounds herself in. let's see how long she can last before things get messy...

progress: 4312/5500 words

THE BABYSITTER (title still to be decided)

johnny slaughter x fem!reader. babysitter trope. stalking. violence and gore. non-con. minor character death. dark smut. dead dove - do not eat.

reader finishes up her babysitting shift and expects the usual routine of her boyfriend picking her up. she doesn't know that someone is watching her, and is waiting for the right time to prance. when johnny finally digs his nails into reader, he knows a sadistic way to get her to succumb to him and have some derranged fun.

progress: 0/1500-2000 words

FOXY (title still to be decided)

johnny slaughter x fox-hybrid!reader. smut. petplay. dom/sub. minor injury. primal. humiliation. tags still to be decided.

fox-hybrid!reader gets caught up in one of hitchhikers traps when trying to snag nugget from the family property. unlucky for them, johnny's been working outside and spots the commotion. finding the hurt, scared reader, johnny takes them in with a devilish smirk. now he's got a little pet he can play with, and he ain't gonna play nice.

progress: 0/1000 words.

IN THE BLUEBONNET FIELD (title still to be decided)

johnny slaughter x fem!reader. smut. stalking. yandere. primal. non-con. knifeplay. bloodplay. dead dove - do not eat.

johnny has been stalking the reader for weeks, relishing in their scared state. as the days go by, the reader feels like she is being watched, catching glimpses of an unknown man following her every move. with morbid curiousity, the reader decides to treck through the bluebonnet fields to finally come face to face with her stalker. when he takes her advances, he finally has her at his mercy.

progress: 0/3000 words.

dividers by @thecutestgrotto.

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE.

[ladykailitha]

King of the Day!

Hello and welcome to my Christmas AUvent Calendar! Every day from now until the 24th I will be posting a ficlet that is 500-1500 from an AU I've done over the years.

All stories will be marked with the tag #12 aus of christmas so you can follow along as I will only be tagging my permanent list for this (it would get too confusing otherwise).

The last one on our list is: Steve is Tattoo Artist verse. You can read the story here. All links will be to the first chapter, but the chapter itself will have links to the rest of the story.

The title comes from the European tradition of if the [insert object here] in the cake you were king for the day (I learned about it in my French three decades ago so if I got wrong sorry!).

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10 Day 11

~

Steve was facing the dilemma of topping Eddie’s Christmas from last year. Where his band Corroded Coffin got their first gold record, which had gone platinum earlier this year. But if everything went right and Gareth didn’t forget his present to Eddie then he might just win.

But as it was right at that moment it was a disaster.

“What do you mean you lost my order?” Steve asked through gritted teeth. “I called confirmed it only yesterday and every week for the last three weeks!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you sure you’re spelling ‘Buckley’ correctly? It’s B-U-C-K-L-E-Y. Yes with an E. Thank you!”

“No ma’am, I’m not saying that you’re dumb or anything of the sort,” he continued dryly. “I just wanted to make sure it was going to be here on time. It’s already out for delivery. Thank you!”

He set the receiver gently in its cradle and then picked it back up again. Once he heard the dial tone he slammed it several times for good measure.

“You do know that I’ve done this for the last five years,” Robin snarked from the entrance to tattoo shop, “as my job. I don’t know why you won’t let me do it for this.” She walked into the shop and leaned against the counter. “You’re just stressing yourself out over nothing.”

Steve laid his head on the desk with a sigh, letting the cool surface calm his rage. “I just wanted to make tonight special.”

She scooped up his hands in hers. “It will be special because he loves you. Now, let’s see it.”

He reached into his pocket and handed her a small red velvet box. She opened it and smiled fondly. It was perfect. It was white gold with ruby in the middle and framed by four black spinel gemstones, two large close to the ruby and two smaller stones on the outside.

Then she slipped it into her pocket. “I’ll just hold on to this for safe keeping. So what is the other thing you’re getting Eddie for Christmas? Because I know this is for after the gift giving.”

“Gareth is bringing it,” Steve said with a sigh. “Eddie is like a little kid looking for presents all the time and knows all my hiding spots.”

Robin laughed, because yeah. Steve’s boyfriend was like a kid when it came with presents, something Wayne had to warn him for when his birthday came up.

“I’ve been texting him nonstop reminding him to bring it,” he continued and then he handed her his phone. “Then he sent me this.”

It was a picture of Gareth in his car, a stack of presents in the passenger seat, and he’s giving the camera the middle finger. The caption read underneath, “I’ve got it! Quit your bitching!”

“Am I supposed to guess which one is yours to Eddie?” she asked rolling her eyes as she handed it back to him.

Steve rolled his eyes and jerk his head forward, holding his hands out like it was obvious. “Like the one wrapped differently then all the others?”

“Oh.”

~

The party was in full swing. Everyone was having fun, the booze was flowing, the food flying off the table and into happy mouths.

“I can’t believe you got me the entire new edition of the D&D manuals,” Eddie huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like how am I supposed to compete with that?”

Steve kissed his cheek. “It’s not a competition, love. Despite what you and Gareth think.”

“Bah!” Eddie said. Then he got shy. “You did like your present, right?”

Steve tilted his to the side. Eddie had gotten him a custom apron that said, “King of this Castle” for him to wear while he was tattooing. “Of course I did. I loved it, baby. Chrissy is already trying to convince Robin and Vickie to get her and Argyle similar ones.”

Eddie shoved his hair in front of his face. “Yeah?”

Steve gently took the strand from him and tucked it behind his ear. “Yeah, sunshine. I promise.”

Robin gave him a pat on his shoulder as she passed by them.

It was time.

He took a deep breath and then grabbed his hand. “There’s one more present for you.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and then his eyes went wide. “Oh!”

“Last year when I gave you my grandfather’s ring,” Steve said, cupping Eddie’s cheek, “I promised that I would get you a ring that was all your own.” He lifted his left hand. “There is only room for one more.” He tapped the ring finger.

“Stevie...” he breathed.

Suddenly he was aware that everyone was watching them as Steve got down on one knee.

“Would you do the honor of being my husband?” He pulled out the red velvet box Robin had slipped him when she passed.

Eddie held his hands mouth, too overjoyed to speak and nodded. Steve slipped the ring on his finger. It fit perfectly and perfectly fit the rest of Eddie’s rings as Steve intended.

“I love you.”

Eddie pulled him to his feet and kissed him senseless. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

A cheer went up as Steve blushed and pressed their foreheads together. “Merry Christmas, Eds.”

“Does this make me the royal consort?” Eddie asked with a grin.

Steve threw his head back and laughed. He loved this man so deeply. “Yeah, babe. You absolute drama queen!”

Everyone laughed.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[catwhoisawizard]

Hello gposers of Tumblr!

I would like to get to know you all better and get more involved in the FFXIV community here on tumblr! My particular blend of brain weirdnesses make it difficult to be consistent about making gposes myself, but I do it when I can. I haven't made any recently because I've been on a bit of a hiatus from the game for personal reasons, but I want to share some of my older shots as a start!

So without further ado, here's a short introduction to my current cast of characters! Please feel free to leave comments or send asks with questions about them!

Name: Zhera Anki

Age: 35 (as of DT)

Gender/Pronouns: Cis female, she/her

Orientation: Polyam Lesbian

Canon combat jobs: SCH/WHM/SMN

Canon non-combat jobs: BTN/CUL/ALC

Homeland: Limsa Lominsa (raised there), Ala Mhigo (born there)

Notes: Mixed race Keeper/Seeker. Her Keeper family is descended from survivors of Amdapor. Her Seeker father was a member of the Fist of Rhalgr. She is autistic and has utilized her hyperfixations and special interests to learn multiple difficult skills quickly. Buff.

Zhera is a former Storm Captain and veteran of the Primal Wars, the Garlean War, and the Final Days crisis. Now retired, she became an Archon (her specialty is aetherology and Allagan Summoning) and now spends her time raising her adopted child Hhemetso and working as a freelance botanist. She is close friends with her worldline's WoL, but played a secondary role in most of the events of the MSQ.

Name: Retha Othan

Age: 84

Gender/Pronouns: Trans female, she/her

Orientation: Polyam Pansexual

Canon combat jobs: RDM/SGE/WAR

Canon non-combat jobs: ALC

Homeland: Tenth Shard

Notes: Was AMAB, but learned alchemy and transitioned by using transformative potions similar to Fantasias that she made herself, and continued to make them to help others transition. Was an Archmage of the Red in her prime, but an injury caused her to lose the ability to use magic, and she didn't get it back until getting her new body in the Source. Was happily married to a man named Tavel and had multiple children and many grandchildren.

Retha is Zhera's reflection from the Tenth Shard. She was her world's primary WoL and saved it several times over, but living a hard life eventually caught up to her in her old age, leaving her frail and unable to help when the Ascians made their final move to Rejoin her Shard. She escaped by volunteering for a desperate last minute plan to use experimental magic to send someone's soul to another Shard in the hopes of bringing back help. The transfer succeeded and she found herself sharing a body with Zhera, her counterpart in the Source, only to learn that she was too late: due to unexpected temporal weirdness in the Rift, she had arrived 1500 years after her Shard was already gone. She has since gained her own body and is now building a new life in her new home.

Name: Kjet Anki

Age: 143

Gender/Pronouns: Non-binary, he/him

Orientation: Asexual

Canon combat jobs: WHM/BLM/MNK

Canon non-combat jobs: BTN

Homeland: Hingashi/Gridania

Notes: He is a Viqo'te, as his other mother was a Viera. He is the reincarnation of Deudalaphon and was forced to take on his predecessor's memories against his will; he developed his time travel spell by adapting techniques used in one of her abandoned experiments. He briefly tried to learn the Dark Knight arts, and his Ascian memories took form and consciousness as his Fray before he accepted them; she is now his headmate, calling herself Hephaestia, the name of the previous Deudalaphon prior to taking the Seat.

Kjet is Zhera's son from a separate timeline than her. In his timeline, Zhera lost the war with her depression when he was about 20 and she gave in to despair. In an act of desperation to fix the world, she summoned a perfected primal using her own soul as it's core. The resultant entity was a fusion of her at her lowest and Ifrit at his strongest, calling itself Zhera Ifrita. Following her mandate to "end war by any means necessary", she started a campaign of political manipulation via tempered thralls and eventually outright conquest to unite the entire world under one state, with herself as something akin to a god-queen preventing war via tempering and draconian social policies. While extremely talented with both White and Black magic, Kjet is ill-suited for violence, and was forced to spend over a century in hiding as he watched the world around him succumb to the monster wearing his mother's identity. Finally, in an act of desperation, he managed to develop a primitive time travel spell and used it to travel back to before Zhera lost her hope, but unintentionally made a split timeline in doing so (the method he used does that to prevent a paradox). He has since started building a new life in this timeline, but the threat from his home timeline is not gone...

[togetherhearted]

A prompt for the 1500 follow special, with Zhu Yuan and a shy male reader where after working together for a long time Zhu Yuan realises she loves him. The “i think i love you” prompt is the one im referring too! (Ofc you dont have too, take your time, im not sure if it said you do male reader or not? So im taking a chance. Thank you for your time)

Yes,I do them! Usually the default reader is gn but if asked I can tailor the reader gender to your liking! I hope this will be fine!

ZHU YUAN - I think I love you

Orange was cast in the med bay through the curtains. The sun was setting; the workday was over, but Zhu Yuan had another matter on her hands,the last duty before finally going home. Her colleague got caught in a bar fight.A simple argument between hooligans escalated. In the end, he managed to sedate the fight but not before getting a hit or two, a bruise here and there.  -I can take care of myself-He winched as the woman cleaned a cut on his face. -I know you do;still,I want to do it for you- She avoided his gaze, forcing herself to focus on the task ahead. -Oh...really?- His cheek warmed up;she was getting close to him;her fingers cleaning with precision-And...why is that?- He dared to ask. Zhu yuan glanced at him to meet his gaze, seeing in them the tenderness she hoped to for in recent times -I think I love you - The woman gave him a bandaid -I...I only realized it recently. Working with you is a pleasure and I look forward to having missions together- Her colleague smiled. He put the bandaid on the cut -Likewise-  The silence stretched -So...- The man finally spoke, it was now or never -Want to grab a bite after I finish with the patch ups? My treat-

[entangled-and-exhausted]

Hello Tumblr.

I am a 31-year-old research scientist, a transgender man, and I am diagnosed with ADHD, PTSD, and DID. I want to take you on a journey to understand how the rise of self-diagnosis and the rise of self-identified "plurality" have harmed and further stigmatized the lives of those of us who genuinely struggle with these conditions.

I was diagnosed with ADHD and PTSD at the age of 10, and later with DID at 23. In 2016, during a severe flashback episode that resulted in police intervention, I was placed under a 72-hour psychiatric hold, which ultimately extended to three weeks. Following my hospitalization, I was referred for a formal assessment of DID, which led to my diagnosis. From there, I began intensive therapy with a psychologist specializing in trauma and dissociation.

For several years, I attended therapy twice a week, gradually working toward integration. By the time COVID had hit, I had successfully integrated most of my dissociated parts, with only four or five left. In 2021, my psychologist relocated to another state but referred me to a trusted colleague.

Unfortunately, 2021 was also the peak of imitative DID trends, and despite my established diagnosis, my years of therapy, and the new psychologist having full access to my records, I was reassessed for both DID and ADHD.

When I asked why retesting was needed, I was told that it was a legal precaution due to the increasing number of new patients claiming to have DID, OSDD, ADHD, or a combination. This was highly unnecessary and cost me $1500. Thankfully, most clinics in my city offer sliding scales and payment plans for low-income patients.

In 2022, I was hospitalized again. The place was flooded with young, white, afab, self-identified "systems" who were either imitating DID or insisting that their experiences of "plurality" was an identity. For the record: People with legitimate DID do not refer to themselves as "systems," nor is that terminology a part of actual DID treatment.

During my time inpatient, I shared my progress with integration and discussed the work I still had left to do. One of these self-identified "systems" accused me of being an "ableist murderer."

Another time, someone with actual DID shared about having been trafficked as a child by her parents. A self-proclaimed "RAMCOA system" was excited and claimed that they, too, had been trafficked because their parents sent them to a cult mental health facility in Utah. This was absolutely infuriating, and not just because this claim is inflated at best, but because I was also placed in an unregulated mental health facility. And yes, even though that experience may be potentially traumatic, it is not equivalent to human trafficking at all.

She calmly explained that she was unfamiliar with the term "RAMCOA" (which is primarily used among special interest groups and not really in clinical practice). She also made clear that while this "systems" experience may have been traumatic, equating it to trafficking was not only inaccurate but deeply disrespectful to someone like her.

The self-identified "system" accused the person with real DID of "gatekeeping trauma" and claimed that their DID had developed from their experiences at age 14 (which is impossible because DID only develops from early and severe childhood trauma).

The person with actual DID called them out for misrepresenting trauma for attention and rightfully accused them of faking their condition.

Some other similar incidents:

• An "endogenic system" fake claimed those with actual DID, insisting that plurality is something you are born with and not a dissociative coping mechanism.

• A self-proclaimed "multi-origin system" asked me, a trans man, for advice on how to lie about gender dysphoria to trick their doctors into prescribing HRT for one of their "alters." When I refused, I was labeled a "transphobic ableist contributing to systemic oppression"... even though I'm part of said marginalized group.

• Someone went inpatient voluntarily because their therapist refused to diagnose them with DID or explore their "system."

• Someone accused me of transphobia for refusing to use their ADHD/ADHDer pronouns, despite the fact that they had self-diagnosed both ADHD and DID.

Every interaction with these self-proclaimed "systems" ended with accusations of oppression. Anyone with critical thinking skills can see how absurd this is.

But the impact of this trend didn't just stop here. When my endocrinologist was unavailable, I had to see a different doctor for my routine HRT follow-up. For the first time since childhood, my identity as a transgender man was questioned, all because my DID diagnosis was on my medical chart. The doctor said that they had recently seen an influx of young college students claiming DID but had only been experiencing minor dysphoria for a week before seeking out hormones.

But the worst of all came from my former best friend. She became fixated on ADHD and repeatedly tried to manipulate diagnostic tests, and even asked me how to answer questions to receive a formal diagnosis. When 7 different evaluations showed she did not have ADHD, she attempted to steal my Adderall. She still claimed ADHD, and began claiming everything was ableism. Once she grew tired of ADHD, she moved on to claiming various chronic illnesses like POTS, hEDS, and MCAS. She called herself a disability warrior and anyone, including medical professionals, that asked for proof were ableist.

After that phase ended, she declared herself nonbinary but admitted she neither experienced dysphoria nor wished to transition. Yet, she insisted she was part of the trans community and replaced all of her claims of ableism with transphobia. When identifying as non-binary no longer satisfied her, she began identifying as a trans woman despite being afab.

Her next phase was "identifying" as "plural" claiming she was "just like me." One of her "headmates" even messaged me to talk about our shared experiences with "systemhood." Now, everything that she proclaimed was ableism or transphobia suddenly became pluralphobia.

Each time she reinvented herself, she made it seem like everything unfair that we all experience in life was due to ableism. No! Wait! it was transphobia. No! Wait! it was actually pluralphobia! She uses marginalized identities like having a disability, being trans, or having DID as a social currency rather than the real experiences of systemic oppression that they are and that she does not experience.

This is why I say that "endogenic systems" and "plural communities" are oppressive. Because they are. They trivialize real disabilities and identities, turning them into fun and quirky trends rather than struggles with real-world consequences that are sometimes fatal.

All I see are privileged leftists treating marginalization as a subculture rather than a lived experience shaped by systemic oppression. What's ironic is that many of these people have become extremely ableist and transphobic in the name of "disability rights" and "trans rights."

As a trans man with disabilities, my life was far easier when I was invisible. Visibility could have been a powerful force for much needed social change if it hadn’t been co-opted and distorted by those who have no understanding of what it means to truly live with these conditions.

For those too young to remember, your actions are parallel to Rachel Dolezal, a white woman who falsely claimed to be Black for social and academic gain. The same dynamic is playing out here, and it places actual marginalized groups at risk.

In clinical circles, self-identified plurality is not recognized as a legitimate phenomenon. It is largely viewed as a mix of social contagion, identity confusion, peer pressure, and attention-seeking behaviors. It is a subculture. A phase. Nothing more. Nothing less. But it is one that actively harms those of us who struggle every day with the realities of DID. So please. Stop with the ableism. Self identifying as a novel group that "totally isn't an imitation of DID" and proclaims to be oppressed does not erase what privilege you carry. It just shows how misguided you are and what little care you have for people with disabilities.

This is ableism rebranded as a marginalized identity. This is akin to when Dolezal scapegoated the trans community by trying to claim she was trans racial (yes, I am aware this term has a separate meaning). She tried to rebrand her racism as a marginalized trans identity, just like plurals are trying to rebrand their ableism as a marginalized identity. It's harmful. It's wrong.

[redfluffz]

500 Follower Special

Uhh Guyys it's finally time!

So here is the first page 🔥

But I have to explain some things.

(1) I'm known to be a person who always exaggerate things. I just couldn't make one art piece - I just had to make a full story. I love storiees. Soo that means when we end "Diner Fun" the story doesn't end there ... when we reach 1500 Followers you have the chance to decide how the story continues. 💖

(2) Due to my work and my other fancomic, I can only post every week (Saturday) one page. I'm soriiee. I will upload the full comic (in the right order) on DeviantArt, because to update the links of like 30+ pages on tumblr is causing a linktastrophy and making me insane. But don't worry - it's totally free. ✨️

(3) I hope you enjoy my silly comic! And I hope it's a special worth of 500 Followers. Thank you guys so much!

Edited 21st February 2025

[uwmspeccoll]

Typography Tuesday

SCHWABACHER

Not all Gothic typefaces are the same, and there were several distinctive designs that were used in the early years of printing. While similar to the rounded Rotunda Gothic, Schwabacher is more angular and has certain distinctive letter designs, such as in the capitals A and H. It was perhaps the most common typeface in Germany until Fraktur supplanted it by the mid-16th century.

The name comes from the German town of Schwabach, just south of Nuremburg, where it is believed the font was designed. The earliest extant appearance of the typeface is from an Augsburg printing of 1472 (Augsburg is about 80 miles (129 km) south of Schwabach). It was famously used by Anton Koberger for both his Latin and German editions of the lavishly-illustrated Nuremberg Chronicle of 1493, a comprehensive history of the world from the creation to the date of publication compiled by Nuremberg scholar and doctor, Hartmann Schedel. Those editions proved to be so popular that the Augsburg printer Johann Schönsperger (ca. 1455-1521) plagiarized the editions to produce his own small folio German edition, with 2100 new woodcuts, in 1476, followed by a Latin edition in 1497, and then another German reprint in 1500, all using Schwabacher type.

The original leaf shown here is from the p signature of Schönsperger's 1497 Latin edition which is included in the leaf book . . . the highest form of flattery . . . by the American book designers, letterpress printers, and specialists in the Nuremberg Chronicle Adrian (1923-1988) and Joyce L. Wilson (1914-1996), printed under the direction of George R. Kane (1913-2009) at the Cowell Press of UC Santa Cruz by Felicia Rice (b. 1954) and Nick Zachreson in an edition of 90 copies in 1982. Ours is one of 60 copies bound in half leather. For the record, UWM Special Collections does not condone the breaking of books for sale or for inclusion in leaf books. Our copy was part of the donation from our late friend Jerry Buff (1931-2025).

View other posts on Gothic type.

View our other Typography Tuesday posts.

[xxsycamore]

Bestie, love i just woke up but concept

😈+🪱 @gilbert. Ywah i know I'm breaking rules. You could ignore my half asleep ramblz

Love <3 V

HEY YOU CAN'T DO THAT‼️‼️ I'm definitely making this a worm request after a careful examination where I concluded there are no other worm gilbert requests.

[🪱] 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝙶𝚒𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚎'𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚖 …

GILBERT:

Blinking into awakeness, you slowly but gradually come to remember how you got into your current state. Gilbert offered to read together, but you didn't feel like going anywhere special, so instead you opted for lounging on the bed. You must have fallen asleep amidst it...

Since you were on top of the black duvet, Gilbert simply covered you with the part of it that was on his side of the bed - so that now you're completely wrapped in it like a warm, tight cocoon. You crane your neck upwards to see him reading calmly as before, with his back rested against the bedframe. He's completely out of reach and you here you wanted to nuzzle onto him to signal you're awake...

Determinedly, you push your feet upward, crawling closer to your lover, thankful for the added glide of the satin covers. Gilbert's attention is successfully captured - less by the nuzzling and more by the sight that preceded it.

"Has my little bunny turned into a little worm?"

A worm!! He could at least say a caterpillar... Though you know deep in your heart that Gilbert would always see you as nothing short of dear to him, no matter what form you take - he'll do anything for you, make sure you're loved and taken care of. Still, you can't help but ask a very silly question...

"Would I still love you if you were a worm? Heehe."

You don't appreciate the "wouldn't you like to know?" tone of his little giggle, but it seems like he's giving it a thought after all. You begin to regret asking.

"I want to see something. Why don't you try giving me a kiss?"

Without the use of limbs to prop yourself up?! You'd rather wiggle your way back down in retreat, turn around, fall asleep, and pretend all of this was just a dream.

∎ (REQUESTS CLOSED) Steal My Heart!! - xxsycamore’s 1500 followers celebration event | 💌 event masterlist