#BUT I HAD LOADS OF MUSE!!!!

[templeofvengeance]

[tathrin]

Heeeeey...so have we ever thought about, like, how Faramir would reflect back on his interactions with Gollum after everything, once he learned the full details of Frodo and Sam's trek into Mordor and how that all played-out and everything?

Do we think he would regret the fact that he had Gollum taken from the pool and beaten, thereby breaking his trust in Frodo and destroying the last faint little hope that Gollum maybe maybe could have found his way out of the darkness at the core of his heart and taken that second chance that Frodo was offering him?

Or do we think he'd regret not killing Gollum when he had the chance, before he could betray Frodo and Sam to Shelob and pursue them all the way up to Mount Doom, etc etc?

Or would he not really think about it at all?

Because Faramir doesn't seem much like a "doesn't think about it all" kind of guy to me, so...?

[beetrans]

idk if I miss my Youth or relative less-disability or not being bound to a 9-5 Job but I miss being able to just. stay up late until I've had a good day.

or at least enjoyed something.

now it feels like a clock ticking down, or hearing a timer beep after forgetting something in the oven. the time I could've spent Enjoying My Wild and Precious Life (after work bleeds out my minimal energy) is Done, your Task of Making Dinner is Overdue, better consume Something and go right to bed or tomorrow will be Worse

I'm tired of being tired, stressed, in cycles of spoon debt that I pay down in sleep on the weekend but hit the red already by monday evening.

I need a real break, but know the moment I'm no longer strapped to the breaking wheel, I'll fall apart.

what's broken in me won't hold me up.

and I know, I know, I KNOW that anything I want is on the other side of change. but every time I burn out, I lose something forever. I don't want to feel the extent of my injuries. I don't want to hurt. I might be too tired to want anything.

I don't know if I miss the autonomy or the control. But I know I don't have it.

[konkuurito]

i've said it before on my old blog, but i'll say it again here, just so i know i have it in both places.

i am writing jay in the middle of his character arc. this means his moral alignment is dependent on the influence of other peoples' muses. by default, i consider him chaotic neutral with evil tendencies, the evil being because of his inherently sadistic nature. however, jay definitely has redeeming qualities, has a soft heart, and above all, he doesn't want to be a bad person... at least, that's how it usually starts.

with the influence of someone else's muse, jay could definitely change, becoming redeemed, overcoming his trauma, and moving on with his life. however, with another kind of influence, the opposite could happen. yes, he may still overcome his trauma, but... in a completely destructive way where he no longer cares about who he hurts, and instead, gives into his sadistic nature, becoming hedonistic.

[crashandswirl]

...Can we tell apart my eight muses with the same FC?

[milkyberryjsk]

2 projects left and i am free this semester

[underworldsarcade-a]

There is no way I woke up to sportacus on my feed omg. Hey daddy buddy can you bend down a little so I can place a smooch on ur cheek pls

❛ A kiss ? For me ? Oh , well . . . how could I say no ? ❜ Offering his cheek :|]

[inhogf]

t.o.p / seunghyun and his breeding kink.

contains: he pokes holes in ur condom. smut. a/n: i decided to change up my theme lmk if y'all fw it

seunghyun can't shake the thought of you carrying his child. the image of you, round with his baby, bound to him forever. every time it crosses his thoughts, he finds himself biting the inside of his lip. it gets him sooo fucking hard.

he assures you he stopped by the drug store and grabbed a fresh pack of condoms—which was true. what he doesn’t mention is how he spent a solid ten minutes preparing. opening the box with practiced ease, carefully pressing a safety pin through the center of each rubber, three or four times, just to be sure.

he had to make sure you stayed off your birth control— had to make sure your body would start changing in just a few months. the thought of it consumed him, an obsession he couldn’t shake. he needed this. needed you. needed to know that no matter what, you’d be his forever and ever.

it was an asshole move, really.

seunghyun knew you'd never forget him, no matter how long he was away. he trusted you, loved you in ways he couldn't always put into words. but once the thought was planted, he couldn’t forget it. maybe deep down it was the fear you'd leave or just the desire to know that you were fully his, full with his child. it wasn't just desire— it was necessity. you wouldn't leave, couldn't leave, not when you'd be bound to him in the most permanent way possible. and once it happened? you'd understand. you'd see that this was always meant to be.

“awh, is my pretty baby all out of it?” he muses with a smug look on his face while he's rutting into you. he's got your knees pushed back as far as they'll go, and as that gasp slips out of you, he's right there, giggling in your face thinking of you all filled up with his babies.

it's so much intense than ever when he finally cums in your pulsing cunt, him wriggling your hips, rocking, as if he could get any deeper— but your cunt already latched around him snuggly, his tip bumping, dragging over your spongy spot with slow, languid rolls of hips.

seunghyun is letting himself go, thinking of getting you to swell up and to be tied to him for life. how your hips are gonna widen and make room for his baby. how your tits are gonna be huge and he can't stop thinking about squeezing and groping every pound you gain.

he's losing it. only calming down his breathing when he pulls out and sees the small amount of cum in the condom, knowing the rest of it is making its way into your womb. he stares down at your pussy, mesmerised by the sight of it dripping with his cum. he leans down, his face mere inches from it as his heated breath ghosts your folds. he watches, transfixed, as another thick spurt of his previous load oozes out of you. he's so impatient, he's already thinking of names.

“you're not going anywhere,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with emotion. “not after this— fuck—.. you’re not leaving me… you can't—”

cr @inhogf don't steal

[twobitsblade]

sweetheart!reader tries to help rafe shave his face

you sighed, running a hand through your hair as you lay in bed, restless, while rafe stood in front of the mirror shaving. he noticed you stirring in the reflection and turned to you with a grin.

“y’know, loads of girls help their men shave.”

at that, you sprung up—finally, something to cure the boredom gnawing at you.

“well, i’ll be joining that club,” you mused, gently picking up the razor, dipping it in water, and running it over his tanned skin. your manicured fingers moved carefully along his jawline, cautious not to nick him. his hands found your waist as he looked down at you.

rafe had always loved these moments—especially after meeting you. the softness in your eyes when you looked up at him, the way you furrowed your brows and bit your lip just enough to catch the light… just a few of the things he could never get enough of.

you squirmed out of his grip, lips now pressed into a pout.

“you need to let me focus. i have a sharp object in my hand.”

“with you in front of me, how am i supposed to not distract?”

“oh, how romantic you are,” you said, rolling your eyes and pushing him back against the counter so you could keep going.

for a moment, silence fell between you and you finally felt able to focus—until:

“you missed a spot, dumbo.”

“are you trying to get cut, rafe?”

he stayed silent, but the toothy smile on his face said a thousand words—most of them a bit too intimate to say out loud.

the gentleness of the moment began to distract you from the act of shaving. you’d been so used to men leading you, controlling you—coldhearted people always drawn to your softer nature. but somehow, rafe was different. he let you lead. he was warm.

“hey, sweetie, y’good? this some new style? right side shaven, left side hairy?”

“hm? oh my gosh—sorry!”

“‘oh my gosh—sorry,’” he mimicked with a dramatic flutter of his eyelashes, which made you shove him backwards playfully.

he whistled. “bold girl, huh?”

“focus, remember?” you teased, nudging his chin upward.

“i am focused. on you.”

within seconds, he had grabbed you by the waist, spun you around, and sat you on the cold porcelain of the countertop. somehow, even then, he was still taller as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours.

your hands reached back into his hair, fingers tangling in the light brown strands.

“mm, pretty girl… how the hell’d i get so lucky?”

you just shrugged coyly, your shoulders and face flushing pink.

[desiderareing]

Blue tag drop.

[chiwhorei]

i don't have a specific request in mind js pls bless us with icky big bro caleb and icky daddy sylus content I'm on my kneeeees🧎🏻‍♀️

How about icky big bro Caleb AND icky daddy Sylus together ?? My head is S P I N N I N G tw: incest, pseudo-incest, dubcon (?), manipulative and yandere-ish behavior.

Based on the Tomorrow’s Catch 22 event, Sylus is your guardian and Caleb is still the “childhood friend” (🙄 which to me means blood related big brother OBVIOUSLY) that you grow up with. So let’s say Sylus takes the two of you in when you were kids and raises you both. But of course Sylus has a distinct favorite- you, his precious little bird. (Ꮚ˘ ꈊ ˘ Ꮚ)

And both your brother and adopted father are LETHALLY protective over you. You’ve always been caught in the middle of their affection, feeling the tug from one side to the other like dogs with a rope. Sylus disappears for several years, and in that time Caleb has you all to himself. He knows how much you miss the only father-figure you’ve ever had, but he LOVES being the sole recipient of your attention now. You lean on your big brother heavily, and Caleb takes SUCH good care of you.

So when Sylus decides to show up again, Caleb itches to hide you away in a place only he can find. You start to notice his demeanor shifting, and try to reason Sylus’ sudden reappearance. “Dad’s just trying to make up for lost time, can’t you at least try to get along with him?”

God, Caleb hates when you call that fucker your Dad. He’s not, and he shouldn’t have the pleasure of hearing the name curl around your tongue. You always used to get away with anything, just by flashing Sylus a wide eyed “Please, daddy.”

Sylus can’t say he’s hurt by the tension between himself and his eldest “son”. Caleb’s always been more of an obstacle to him anyway. But now, he’s got the advantage. Caleb lives and works in Skyhaven, leaving his poor little sister in Linkon to fend for herself. It’s only natural for Daddy to suggest you move in with him. And the thought alone has your brother reeling from the thought of you playing house in the N109 Zone.

So now your life is spent like a tennis ball being volleyed from one man to another, spending every weekend Caleb has free up in Skyhaven and every weekday with Sylus. Both men always trying to one up each other, buying you pretty things, taking you on lavish trips, doting in you in every way.

The way Caleb fucks you is often hostile, jealous of all the time he’s sure you’ve spent in “Daddy’s” bed. He makes you scream his name, makes you beg for big brother’s cock, makes you cum around him so many times your poor clit starts feeling numb.

After a weekend at Caleb’s you come home with hickies and bruises everywhere. Sylus shakes his head and tssks you, musing at how much of a cum whore his daughter became. But don’t worry, daddy can’t ever stay mad at you for long, especially when you curl up between his legs so sweetly and beg for forgiveness. You’ll suckle at his cock for hours with tears streaming down your face. You’ll let Sylus fuck your face and take his load on your chin “just like my little cumslut daughter likes”

It’s a vicious cycle, really.

[xomakara]

Between Loads | J.YH

SUMMARY | You hate doing laundry but maybe your next door neighbor, Yunho, can make it worth your time.

PAIRINGS |  Yunho x Reader 

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked

GENRE |  smut, pwp, romance, neighbors to lovers, fluff

CONTENT/WARNINGS | the 6th floor has creepy crawlies (but nothing really happens), profanity, flirting, teasing, unprotective sex (wrap it up ya'll), oral sex (both m/f receiving/giving), dirty talk, laundry jokes, just jokes all around, kissing, skin marking, skin biting, hair pulling, fingering, multiple positions, creampies, breeding/impregnation kink 

LENGTH |  7,004 words 

TAGLIST |  @aerangi   

NETWORKS |  @illusionnet  @cromernet  @othersideoutlawsnetwork  @winerys-collection  @cosyhomenet  @keopihaus  @ksmutsociety  @k-vanity 

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Thank you @pars-ley for the banner! I love it so much 💛💚 and thank you @lovetaroandtaemin and @heartikeu for beta-reading the beginning of the fic. And now she is completed! On another note, Yunho. Goddamn Yunho.

ATEEZ Main Masterlist

You hate doing laundry in this ever busy apartment building. Since it's late Saturday morning, all of the washers on the first floor have been preempted by people doing laundry to start their day. It'll take ages before a washing machine opens up, and you know that if you stick around, you're likely to have a load ruined from the little kids running about.

You wish management would provide folks with their own laundry hookups like they had with the dishwashers and stoves. Having one in your apartment would be heavenly. Instead, you have to head down several floors to the laundry room and then wait for God-only-knows how long for the damn machines to free up. The faster you could get in and out, the better off you would be.

"Maybe I'll go up to the sixth floor and use the laundry there?" you muse aloud as you pack away the rest of your clothes into your hamper. "But... Ugh, if it's not one thing, it's another!"

You normally avoid the sixth floor laundry room unless there are no machines available on the first, simply because you don't want the hassle of going into the hornets' nest. With the halls of the sixth floor filled with majority men for some odd reason, you want to avoid any harassment in the communal laundry room. You doubt very much whether they could keep their hands to themselves if you had no protection.

"Why must I face this annoyance?!" you yell as you storm down to the elevator with your basket. "It's a hassle, but, fine! Just this once! But, if they try to grab my butt or something, I'm punching someone! They better believe it!"

Armed with enough detergent and soap, you find the communal laundry room a touch more empty than your norm. With less folks around, maybe it will mean a quick load and not much trouble? The thought crosses your mind, but in reality, you know otherwise. 

"You're here too, Y/N?" Your next door neighbor, Yunho, pokes his head out of the open washer as you set the hamper down. "You're not usually here on the sixth floor."

"It's crowded and annoying downstairs," you state. "I don't usually come up here because of the jerks that are on this floor, but desperate times and all of that nonsense."

"Yeah, this floor is crawling with creeps," he agrees.

"I'd love having a washer and dryer set-up in my place. Then I could avoid places like this."

Yunho continues working on loading up his washer, though, you catch his sly glances as you begin sorting things into the next available washers. "Until then, let me know when you do laundry and I'll come up and wash. I promise to help deter the creepy-crawlies."

You can't help but laugh at his offer. "All right, fine. Thanks, I guess." You pushed the last of the clothes into your washer and slammed the lid down. "We'll see how it goes."

How many years have you known Yunho? How long did he live next door to you on the fourth floor? It's been a few years already... Maybe three? Maybe four? Enough that you feel you're used to seeing him, even with his incredibly handsome features, every now and again.

He is very easy on the eyes. Almost a bit too perfect. Tall, with a bright smile, nice arms, and toned thighs... what you would give to climb him like a tree and—

Nope!

No, stop, don't start thinking dirty. Bad Y/N. Bad, dirty brain. Stop perving on Yunho, now.

You glanced up at his bright smile, and turned back to the washing machines. Oh no. It was a sinfully sinful thing to imagine the many ways Yunho might kiss your neck, those hands pushing up your shirt and—

You have to shake your head before things get out of hand. This isn't the time or place to have these kinds of thoughts. The sooner your laundry is done, the sooner you can get back down to your own floor and hide your face behind the closed doors and take care of certain... urges that are beginning to surface.

But as you glance back up at Yunho, seeing him leaning over his own washer as he puts the last of his loads in, a heat pools in the pit of your belly. What you wouldn't do to have him fuck you over one of the washers or against the folding table in the middle of the room. Oh no, there was no mistaking how good and strong those arms would feel wrapped around you, thrusting inside you and whispering in your ear.

Bad... bad thoughts... You don't need this right now. No, you do not need the added strain of Yunho's visuals causing such fantasies. Nope, nope. Don't start, you're getting too worked up thinking about it, stop. You bite down on your lower lip, eyes staring a hole into the washer before you.

"Y/N? Everything all right?" Yunho leans over his washer and peers at you. "You seem distracted."

Oh, how sweet a distraction... If Yunho would shut his mouth, that might make things go easier, right? Shut the door, lock us both in here for hours, and let loose? "I'm fine," you blurt out, flinging a hand towards him. "Just hate waiting for laundry to do its job."

"Sounds like you need something else to take your mind off it. Porn always helps me get through chores faster."

A strange noise escapes your throat, something between a retch and a wheeze. Your entire face flushes darkly, and you rub your palms against your cheeks. "What?!"

"That was a joke," he chuckled.

"Don't say shit like that," you groan. "Especially in a public space. Like seriously, who knows when some other crazy neighbor will walk through those doors?"

"Yeah, no, good point." Yunho nods, and you can’t help but laugh along with him. "How long did you put in to wash those?"

"Just a medium load. So... Half an hour. Probably 35 minutes," you answer. "Then, another half an hour to dry. Can't get out too fast, else I might forget stuff."

Yunho hits a button on his washer and leans his hip against the top of it, making an audible clicking sound from his tongue. "Wanna go for a walk around while we wait? Might help take our minds off chores for a while. And it'll keep those jerkfaces down here from bugging you."

"Sure, why the hell not."

As you two wander the halls, you're somewhat surprised how not creepy everything is. Yunho is, like always, a pleasure to speak with as the two of you trade gossip, funny stories, and daily happenings. This time, however, you focus a bit too much on his lips moving, the curve of his smile, and the soft laugh that breaks the quiet air. Your mind flitters and keeps drifting back to thoughts of that moment, imagining how it would feel.

Fuck, his lips look soft.

That's it.

Yunho's lips are full and plush looking. Very soft. Probably the best kissing lips that a man could possess, even in such a harsh looking face. They practically beg to be devoured. The kind of lips you could easily imagine sliding against your body with ease, tasting each and every inch, and then engulfing you whole.

Fuck.

Even with Yunho talking animatedly, you can't pull your focus away. The urge to steal his lips in a kiss overcame you.

It can't hurt.

"Shit, I want to kiss you."

Or, it might hurt. A lot, in fact, considering Yunho's steps falter, and he almost face plants into the wall. He looks at you with wild, confused eyes. "What?!"

"Shit," you close your eyes and slap your mouth a few times, "shit shit shit, sorry. My stupid mouth. Ignore that." You swallow hard and turn to walk down the stairs, a shameful blush staining your face. "Yeah, just forget all about that. Me saying that. Yeah, good plan."

Yunho watches your hasty retreat, following after with a renewed lightness in his steps. "W-Wait. That's it?"

You reach the sixth floor landing, Yunho still trailing behind you as you head towards the communal laundry. "I am a dumb idiot that blurts things like that out without thinking. Forget I even said anything, please."

"Hey," he laughs as he takes hold of your wrist, stopping your stride to his laundry room, "you can't just say something like that and expect a man to completely forget it!"

"Yes. Yes I can," you assure him. "So, you will."

He laughs again as he follows after. "Absolutely not."

"Yunho, please." You pull out of his grasp and make your way back into the laundry room where only one person sits waiting at the folding table for their dryer to finish its cycle. "I just want to die in a hole. Or the void. Yeah, the void sounds great. I want nothing more than to leave this stupid galaxy and just fade into the vacuum of space."

"Why, though?" he asks.

You open up your washer and quickly begin taking items to toss them into the dryers. "Because... I just... Ugh. I mean." You groan and hide your face against the metal lid of a dryer. "Please, it's embarrassing enough that you had to witness and hear that, you really don't want to know why."

Yunho, not backing down from this new information, leans against his own washer, studying your flushed face. "Why, though?"

"Because..."

He seems to notice your hesitance. "Come on. I won't make fun of you."

You hang your head a moment, taking a breath and holding it as you wait to feel calm again. But, when you exhale, there’s no changing the facts. He isn’t letting it go. "Ugh, you're gonna laugh."

"Maybe. Maybe not." His gentle smile makes your heart skip a beat. "Try me."

You let out another long suffering sigh. "You've just... Always looked like you'd be really good at it. Kissing. And," you continue when he starts to chuckle, "you've always been so friendly and helpful. That, uh, it gets a girl's thoughts going... A-And... S-Sorry."

He bites back his laughter as best he can, cheeks pinkened with delight. "Don't apologize, not for something like this."

"Please," you turn around, your face burning in complete embarrassment.

Yunho notices that the two of you are the only ones remaining in the laundry room, save the lone lady reading. A risky play, but perhaps there isn't any better of an option. As the woman's dryer buzzes, she gathers her things, leaving the room without hardly noticing either of you. The risk is certainly real.

"You still wanna kiss me?" Yunho's grin turns down right mischievous. "Because I gotta say... Now you've got me kinda curious, too."

You stare at him blankly. "Seriously?"

"C'mon." His voice is low and raspy, turning your legs to jelly as he approaches and takes hold of your elbows. "Nobody's around. Give it a shot. Just once."

Fuck he smells amazing. Is that aftershave? You don't know. You can't tell what scent it is, but you don't want to leave the safe cocoon his arms provide.

"J-Just once," you mumble, feeling yourself sinking into his body.

"Just once," he murmurs.

Yunho's thumb glides along your cheek before his fingers run over the shell of your ear and his palm rests gently on your jawline. He shifts and ducks slightly, his eyes drifting closed as the world fades to just you and him.

Warm, gentle lips meet, yours and your heart begins to thunder violently. Slowly, tenderly, his fingers curl around your jaw, encouraging you to follow his lead, coaxing a pleased noise to slip free. The rush of warm desire floods you, and the desire to melt against his solid frame nearly consumes you whole.

Just a simple press of lips, a taste, and just a hint of tongue that nearly drives you mad, and it leaves you wanting nothing more than more. All the build up and heat culminates into a blazing fire that courses through you.

The heavy breathing, the ragged needy moans that spilled free—did they come from your mouth or his? Did they matter, really? This wasn't enough. You wanted more, even as his teeth scraped across your lower lip, his touch and kiss sending you further into oblivion.

Until the buzz of the dryer brings you crashing back to the real world.

Both of you draw back, lips barely touching as the loud buzz of the machine interrupts your world. A sluggish, sheepish laugh is shared as you part, moving to the machines. Yunho drops down onto a chair with a smirk still tinged with a deep crimson across his cheeks as you fold clothes, still working out the embarrassment and slight afterglow you experienced.

"So?" He asks softly as he hands off folded items to you. "Thoughts?"

"Need a few more tries to confirm," you answer just as softly. "You know, so I can give an accurate review."

He laughs, taking his own clothes out of the dryer to fold. "Wouldn't want a biased opinion now."

"Mmhm, exactly."

After finishing folding up the clothing, the two of you make your way back upstairs to your shared floor, teasing and poking, giving and stealing lingering, awkward glances along the way.

It isn't until you parted ways with an airy promise for another "chore" session together that a revelation dawned upon you.

It would be so very easy to fall completely in love with Jeong Yunho.

Yunho stayed true to his words to accompany you in the laundry room on the sixth floor, sneaking in kisses each time, leaving you wanting so much more each time. It was a fun, little secret shared just between you two. And then, eventually, it bled into other things. Like going on dates, a shared couch cuddle and a good movie, maybe an evening of food delivery, stolen glances, and hand holding. You met his friends, he met your friends, more dates came afterward, and then he became your boyfriend.

Yunho managed to convince the building's management to let him get a washer and dryer combination inside the apartment instead of having to trudge a bunch of floors down or up to the laundromat. What a plus. Now, not only could you easily wash a load or two, but you and Yunho could easily watch movies while you waited for everything to wash, dry, and fold.

You were sitting in your apartment one night after putting your clean clothes away, when a knock sounded on your door. You padded over and cracked it open, Yunho looking back at you from the doorway with an impish smirk.

"I think some of your clothes got mixed in with mine," he says, raising one of your lacy panties up as if to display it. "Looks like a pretty important thing for you to get back."

"My, my, Yunho. You sure you didn't just stuff it into your own hamper to bring over under the pretense of 'oopsies' and 'drats, how did these get mixed in?'"

He laughs and shoulders his way into your apartment, the front door shutting behind him with a kick of a foot. "Geez, you got me figured out! Don't expose me!"

Your shared laughter fills your tiny apartment as he picks you up and tosses you on your own bed, a huge goofy grin on his face.

"By all means, please steal away my panties if you wish."

"Oh? Should I get the matching bra too? Make it a matching set?"

"A truly insidious master plot!" You laugh. "What else do you plan to get while you're in my place?"

Yunho steals a sweet kiss and shrugs. "Figured a few kisses would make me feel better, and maybe borrow a girl in lacy undergarments?" He nibbles a bit on your throat. "Only if she doesn't mind."

"Hmm, fine, I guess you can steal away the goods," you murmur, tracing over his lips. "But, you know, the price of a kiss like that is really high. Might even need a couple."

"Are we bartering kisses for your lovely underwear?"

"Yes."

"Then, let's see."

The two of you hold one another, laughing in between long, drawn out kisses. Each kiss grows longer, deeper, and sweeter than the last, and soon, a hot need for something more than innocent kisses begins to consume you. Yunho's touches are soft, tender, and all-consuming, a strange mix of heady lust and gentle caresses that send a rush of adrenaline into your heart. You slip your hands under the bottom hem of his shirt, pushing it up to feel his heated flesh under the tips of your fingers. His back, his broad chest, the muscles under his skin, you want nothing more than to explore every single inch of him.

"Your kisses have gotten very... demanding... lately." Yunho's chest vibrates with his laugh.

"Oh?"

He nips your shoulder, dragging his lips along your flesh. "You keep kissing and kissing and then you bite and suck on my lips, like you don't plan to give me a chance to breathe again."

"Hmm. You don't seem to dislike it, do you?" Your fingers begin unbuttoning his shirt, fingertips scraping against his skin with a delightful friction.

"Absolutely not," his laugh is soft and husky, sending your heart into overdrive and leaving the world behind as his mouth begins mapping every single inch of your exposed skin. "But," he stops long enough to tear his shirt free from his shoulders and fling it aside, "it's awfully greedy of you."

You snort a giggle. "M-Maybe. But," you suck in a shaky breath as he licks up the side of your throat, "I'm not hearing complaints!"

"Not complaining at all." His hand fans out on your thigh, stroking upward, leaving an excited trail of heat wherever he touches, causing you to let out a heady gasp. He laughs breathily against your skin, "Only that," he hooks his thumb around the waistband of your shorts and tugs lightly, "I'm very happy that my girlfriend," the buttons were freed, zipper and all, "enjoys," he presses kisses against your thighs, "a man who puts a little bite into her kisses."

Yunho slips your shorts from your legs, tossing them onto the floor with a growing pile of clothes. When you both laugh at the realization that you were nearly naked, leaving only a lace bralette and matching panties, he can't help but bite your thigh. His tongue laps at the faint red spot, and he grins up at you. "Looks really pretty on you."

"Pretty, hmm?"

"It's definitely something a beautiful girl like you wears and a man like me wants to take off her." Yunho runs a finger up and along the underside of your bare leg, tracing along your shape, the pressure causing your entire body to twitch. "Unless the gorgeous lady says I can't take it off..."

"It means more laundry for me," you giggle.

He hums and gently kisses your knees. "True... But then... I wouldn't mind doing your laundry with mine next time, would that be acceptable?"

"Hmm, I dunno..." you pull his head down towards yours and nuzzle his nose, "what would my hot neighbor slash boyfriend want as payment for doing my laundry?"

"Mmmm," he nibbles at the plumpness of your lips and chases your breathless laughter, "you." He bends lower and kisses the swell of your breasts as he whispers, "All of you."

The sound that rips from your lungs is deep, and wanting, and more than pleased with his words. "Keep talking like that," you laugh against the crook of his neck. "Because I might actually fucking marry you."

His full body laugh causes the mattress to sink and move. "I didn't realize marriage was on your mind. Is that the way to your heart?"

"Oh fuck yeah. Completely. Marry me, we'll have four dogs, and three kids."

"Just like that?"

"Sure, fuck why not."

There's another bright peal of laughter from him as he sinks down on top of your naked flesh. "Shall we call the preacher before or after you give me my next kiss?"

"Dirty, filthy proposal. You're despicable." You groan and thread your fingers through his hair.

"Can't believe you'd consider marrying a guy who has only kissed you in laundry rooms," he murmurs in between long, dizzying kisses. "What is the world coming to?"

You let out a small laugh. "Yeah, it's awful, isn't it?"

"Jokes aside..." Yunho kisses his way down your throat, your chest, across your ribcage, and against the skin under your breasts, his words sending shivers up your spine, "Would you want to have dinner, spend more time together outside of the laundry rooms? Maybe go on dates?"

Your arms wind tighter around him, and your laugh is sharp. "Mmm, y'know what?" Your palm gently runs across his forehead, brushing away his messy bangs as you catch a hold of his full attention. "I'd like that. A lot, actually."

"Yeah?" The smile on Yunho's face grows wide and radiant.

"Yeah," you laugh, "and now I want you to show me how talented you really are with those lips."

He hums happily, the sound rumbling against you. "And what exactly shall my gorgeous neighbor ask of me in that area? Keep it civil."

"How about..." you muse quietly, tugging your bra down a bit to expose a hard nub of a nipple to the air of the room, "how about a kiss here."

"This isn't very civil." Yunho's nose runs over the upper portion of the breast. "But if the lady asks..."

"Mmmm, and one right here..." You drag the hem of your panties a bit lower on your hip. "A kiss."

Yunho, understanding where your game is headed, playfully takes the lacy hem in his teeth, dragging it down to expose a tuft of trimmed pubic hair before releasing it and resting his cheek on your bare thigh. "Where does my demanding little neighbor slash girlfriend want kisses now?"

"Hm..." you tap your chin and point downwards at a spot that he finds to be utterly delectable and beautiful. "I can think of one other spot for a kiss."

"Yeah?" His breath whispers across sensitive skin, tickling and sending you spiraling into heady excitement.

"Y-yeah..." your words are barely a whisper. "Gotta say... Kinda looking forward to it."

"Happy to indulge you."

And as Yunho drags the rest of your panties free from your legs, his mouth begins a thorough worship and appreciation of the most intimate area of your body. The squeals and gasps he could wring out of you, your hands clenching his hair and the sound of his name falls from your lips with abandon spurs him on until there is nothing left in his head but pure desire to hear you cum and cry out for him.

Out of all the men that ate you out in the past, none comes close to the skills of Jeong Yunho. The others were rough, amateur, quick and wanting. Yunho took his time, savored every reaction and gasp that came. There is no need or urgency or even demand in his motions. Every touch, flick, lick, kiss, and stroke of his tongue are in total control.

Your thighs clamps against Yunho's head, holding him there, begging him to never stop with soft pleads of 'don't you dare fucking stop.' He chuckles as he gently grasps your wrists, encouraging your hands to hold on tight to his head. And when his long fingers joins in, pressing into every spot that sends an electric pulse running up and down your nerves, there was little doubt that the world stopped spinning and nothing existed but him.

Lips, tongue, and two fingers dance across your center, plunging and withdrawing until everything begins to blur into one continuous pleasure. Before long, there is nothing to stop the moans and keening wails from escaping into the quiet evening as the rush of climax exploded into ecstasy and absolute joy.

Through it all, Yunho remains between your legs, happily drinking everything you gave.

"You," you manage after the rush and joy, your voice hoarse and raw, "have one hell of a tongue on you. I mean, I already knew it was talented," his shoulders move with soft laughter, "but fuck, I could've used you a long ass time ago."

Yunho emerged between your legs, a silly smirk dancing on his lips. "Good to know I can be of some service to my demanding girlfriend. Need a breather? Or more?"

You laugh, pulling his face up so that you can reach his lips, relishing in the taste of his tongue and your pleasure mixed on them, "Oh, definitely more but I can wait after dinner."

Yunho chuckles at this. "I'm kind of regretting the order this happened, because now I'm too curious to take a raincheck for dinner and just jump straight to dessert."

"You say this as though you weren't just finishing devouring me whole, just a minute ago?" You run a fingertip along his lips. "I wouldn't have any complaints whatsoever. Besides," you move and kiss his throat, licking and nibbling a line up along the soft skin and under his jaw, "I'm looking forward to returning the favor."

He sighs softly at this and hums in thought. "You," he laughs and kisses your sweaty brow, "you know what? Dinner can wait. After."

"Yes, after," you giggle softly as you crawl down his body, eagerly unfastening his belt and pants, and helping him tug the rest of his remaining clothes free. Your lips trail up his knee, along his inner thigh, and then across the other to do the same. "Dinner can wait. Dessert, on the other hand..." You glance up at him and catch a glimpse of his fully erect cock. "Can not."

Fuck, he's big. And you will savor every damn inch of him.

Yunho settles back, propped up slightly by pillows, his fingers combing your hair idly out of your face. "Have at it, my lovely, greedy little neighbor." There was another sharp, surprised gasp from you, accompanied by a laugh, and a groan of 'you did not just call me that'. To which he responds with a soft laugh, "Okay, my little girlfriend."

Your jaw tingles and you shiver at the way his title rolled off of his tongue. "That one works a lot better," you giggle, your teeth scraping along his length, the muscles on his legs jumping.

A rush of heady lustful pride floods your system and you shiver, eager and greedy and hungry for what Yunho would have to offer you. As your mouth wraps around him, his head falls back and his mouth opens with a soft sigh. His fingers didn't stray from your hair and he helps push it back off your face to watch in rapt wonder. You felt your body flush hotter and hotter, a thrill coursing through your core as your gaze met his.

God he's fucking perfect.

Your hand cup his balls gently, rolling them tenderly and watching the way he sucks his bottom lip inwards, the softest whine in the back of his throat. You lick along the length, tasting and testing and relishing in the feeling. The hard length and gentle flesh in your hands, the warmth of his body, it was everything.

When his hips begin jerking and bucking a little, you allow your throat to relax. Yunho watch in quiet fascination and pleasure. "You'll tell me if it's too much, yeah?"

"I got this," you smile and hold his erection still while taking him completely into the recesses of your mouth. Your tongue laps along his girth, tracing the thick vein on his underside, tracing it, flicking, and pressing with each inch. Yunho's breathing hitches sharply, a low rasping groan leaving his throat as his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head.

"Enjoying yourself?" you ask, not entirely expecting an answer.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Yunho laughs, voice husky and spent and rough.

"Oh, I'm fucking living my dreams," you hum, bending over once again. "I could go all night."

Yunho laughs at your enthusiasm, and you continue lavishing him, wet and warm and insatiable in your hunger. Long fingers in your hair, the heavy weight of his length, the scent, and taste of his own sweat, your desire and want for him never burned so brightly in your veins. It didn't matter that your jaw began aching, that your thighs and core ache for his touch. You couldn't stop, you wouldn't.

A breathless "close" warns you and you take him deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth. Your body responds hotly, growing so moist with longing and heady excitement, and an eager ache. The next series of soft, sloppy noises you pull out of him only brought you closer and closer to orgasm. He tense, his length grew harder, thicker in your mouth. You held fast, welcoming the sticky cum splashing over your tongue and coating the back of your throat.

Slowly, you lift your head up and meet his gaze. Carefully, you swallow, knowing how he tasted and how your body was absolutely aching for his. With a smile you slowly crawl upwards. "So?" you ask breathlessly. "Good review?"

"Four. Fucking. Stars."

"Ooh, nice. Would you recommend?"

"Hell fucking yes I'd recommend that mouth. Sign me the fuck up, yes," he let out another breathy laugh and kiss your chest, "fuck yes. Over, and over, and over again. It's fucking gold, baby."

"Excellent," you giggle and cup his face in your palms. "Wanna recommend other things now? I got an appointment that's open and willing and totally empty if you wanna recommend."

Yunho's arms wound around your waist and flip you onto your back with another sweet kiss. "Wish granted, babe."

The months that followed, and the time spent, left nothing to chance. By the end of it all, the laundry was more than folded, there were a lot of meals cooked between both apartments, movies had been seen and many, many dates were had. You wouldn't have had it any other way.

Your hands reach around Yunho, wrapping your arms across his torso and clinging to him tightly. "So... I was thinking."

"Yeah?" He stops folding his clothes long enough to pay full attention to you. "You thinkin' a lot lately."

"Yunho,” you pout.

"Y/N," he places his shirt aside and fully turns his full attention to you. "Go ahead and tell me."

"Is moving in with you... is it something we could consider doing, together? Like... officially?"

"Officially? As in..."

You make a sweeping gesture around the two of your places. "As in the apartment."

His laughter rings in your ears and soon his body is holding yours in a tight embrace. "Ah, we should totally move in together."

"It doesn't have to be your place, but—"

Yunho silences your rambling by kissing you. When his lips part from yours, a brilliant and beautiful smile graces his features. "Baby, we can get a bigger place. Or better yet, our own house." He kisses your forehead. "With our own laundry room, and kitchen, and, yes, three kids, four dogs, and..." Yunho squeezes you tighter in his arms, "a husband. How does that sound?"

A laugh, shaky and bursting at the seams and filled with absolute joy broke the quiet hum of the laundry machines. "Are we back to joking about the marriage thing?"

"If this isn't the woman I'm gonna marry one day, then I don't know who else could top her," his hands cup your face, fingers tickling through your hair. "Let's keep folding our laundry together. One load at a time."

"Stoooop, you are just too cute, I can't," you reply.

His thumb brushes along your cheek and then across your mouth. "For real though, let's look for a bigger place and really settle down. Maybe start with a pet first."

You sigh softly in agreement and stand on tiptoes to kiss the tall man. "Definitely. Totally." Your heart thud and sings at his promise for the future. "And, not that the sex isn't super, mind blowing, incredible. But…if you actually end up being my husband, then... We. Will. So. Break. This. Thing." You lightly slap the washing machine.

"We can start breaking it now, you know," he lifts you onto the counter and nestles between your thighs, "After all, if we are moving out together, might as well christen the appliances that helped us meet and fall in love."

"Seriously?" you question.

"Very, seriously,"he answers with a laugh.

Your hands snake through his hair and you draw his lips close to yours, sighing softly against his lips before speaking. "Are we done with laundry? I feel like we should be done."

"Oh baby, we haven't even gotten started," his words tickles your mouth with every syllable and leaves the hairs of your skin standing on end. "We're in between loads for now."

"Then I propose," your thighs wrap tighter against him, "we start another load now."

"Oh really?" His hand teases up the inside of your knee, lingering close to the hem of your skirt and then climbing upwards, exposing your skin a little further with each soft touch.

"F-for real," you groan softly, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt.

He huffs and cups your cheek as his mouth assaults your sensitive neck. "Like last time?"

"Y-yes. Exactly. Just like last time. But this time you don't need to pull out," your thighs twitchs and press together, trapping Yunho's teasing fingers in their hold. "Give me your whole load, Jeong Yunho."

The loud, amused laughter that shakes through him was enough to send shivers up and down your spine and pool hotly between your legs. "If the lady says she's ready for my load, then the man will do his damndest to fulfill his responsibility to provide said load. Again, and again, and again." His fingers slip down the front of your panties, playing in the soft curls and gliding along your wet center. "Gonna give your hole the biggest load, baby."

"Right here on the counter?" you gasp out with a laugh.

"As much as I love fucking you on the counter," Yunho chuckles softly, removing his hands and picking you up off and from the counter and carrying you off towards his room, "it'll be more comfortable in the bedroom. No spills that way."

"How responsible," you manage as the cold air hits your thighs when he sits you on the edge of his bed.

"Just doing my civic duty," he wiggles his eyebrows.

Your chest rumbles with giggles as you lay back against the plush blankets, watching as he comes crawling after you. His lips and warm, tingling kisses return in full force to cover the expanse of bare skin revealed by his gentle tugging. When all was bare, your thighs wound around him and drew him closer to you.

Yunho chuckles and peppers soft, butterfly kisses across your abdomen, hands smoothing along your sides. "Don't worry, babe," he whispers huskily into your belly, sending a pulse of need running straight up through your body and nestling in your core, "I'll make sure that the next time, and the next time... And the time after, and the next..." His head trails lower, his lips following a slow, arduous path. "And every time after that... Our load is properly taken care of and completed."

You hum a small laugh and quip playfully, "Damn, is there a fine for unfinished loads?"

"You bet there is, and it'll come with a series of hickeys, and bruises," he answers.

"I'll take my chances then," you sigh, the tone teasing, but also bracing and ready. "Charge me up, baby."

His answering laughter was equal parts adorably sexy and oh so arousing.

Fuck, did you want this, right here and right now. To be filled and consumed and dominated by the very man who own you already, body and soul.

A soft, breathy cry escapes your lips when the full weight of him presses down. Your mouths meet, open and hungry and utterly wanting, teeth scraping gently on sensitive lips. Your back arches up when his fingers dance and toys with you, dipping between folds and sinking deeper and deeper still, and when he replaces the fingers with himself, there is a short moment where all sensation halts before a loud, gasping whine passes your lips.

His words, dirty, sweet, hot, loving, all reverberate through you, intoxicating you to the core. "Fuck..." You let out a long, ragged groan. "Fuck, Yunho."

A sweet, beautiful smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, eyes half-close and fully lost in ecstasy and passion as his pace gradually begins increasing in urgency and need and desire. "There's my sweetheart. That's my girl. Fuck... just like that..." The breathless moans spill, pushing you faster and faster toward climax. "That's my girl."

Arms wrap around his broad shoulders, your nails score down his back, his hips surging faster, burying him deeper, until all thoughts left your brain and all that remains was his touch, his body. You were alive, the world was alive, everything exists, breaths, pulsates in rhythm with him and your blood sings with the feeling. You are his and he is yours.

Forever.

He meets your lips again, swallowing the breathless whines and whimpers, before kissing your throat and along your clavicle. He pauses his thrusts momentarily, pulling out of you only to flip you onto your belly and urging your ass up into the air.

When his heat covers you once more, his fingers clawing at your hip to pull you even closer, and you bury your face into his sheets to cry out against them. "Fuck," you sob quietly, "ohhh, Yunho. Harder." You need him, everything, the unrelenting passion and unyielding love and comfort that surrounds you. "Oh my god."

He breaths another shaky breath into your neck. "Almost there." His tone is hot, sharp, ragged against the skin. "Got some of this load for ya. Not even halfway through the night. Hold on tight, baby." His voice comes as a rough command that sets your body on fire. "Gonna fuck this hole the rest of the night, just wait."

"Shit," was the only breathy, shaking sigh that you could form. "Oh my god."

Laughter bounced out of him, vibrating through you, bringing another bout of squeals. "Good fucking girl," he praises softly. "Fuck, baby. Such a good girl." He peppers soft, gentle kisses along the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and letting out a long, deep moan. "You want every drop, sweetheart? Want every single load? Is that right?"

"Mm," your reply was short, sharp, and needy. "Every single drop, fuck."

Yunho drags your hips upwards, angling and pressing the blunt tip of him against the silken recess of your womb, urging himself forward to the hilt as his words fill your brain. "Fill you. Give you the biggest load you've ever dreamed about. Everything you want."

"Everything?"

"All the loads you need," Yunho continue, "hmm? Yes?"

"Everything, fuck,” your shoulders tremble, the sheer ecstasy that passes with his words bringing you to the edge of climax. "Please, everything."

"Good fucking girl," Yunho's grin and hoarse laugh leave you desperate, needy and wanton.

With one final push he has you seeing stars and exploding into orgasm. In the dizzying and wondrous pleasure-filled moment, he buries his face in your neck, shuddering against you, holding you impossibly closer still. His name echoes over and over, barely registering and it was all you could do but sink against the pillows, heaving for breath, unable and unwilling to move.

Eventually, he shifts off and rolls, a heavy, sweaty arm drapes over you and pulls you close. Neither of you said anything, simply staring at one another, breathing slowly and calming the pounding in each others' chests and heads. His gaze rakes slowly over your exposed form, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, and finally resting against your eyes, so bright with contentment.

"I still got more in the tank," his thumb and forefinger pinches your chin gently between them. "So just to be safe, we shouldn't miss out on this opportunity."

You snort with laughter and hide your flushed face behind the pillows. "I hope we're moving in soon so there can be room for more clothes. Or better yet, storage space for our 'dirty loads'." You give another hoarse, rattling laugh. "Give me five minutes before you bring out another load."

"Tsk tsk tsk," Yunho playfully chides you, holding your hips gently and guiding your face towards his. He bends over to steal a kiss. "We are nowhere near finishing."

"Your tank doesn't ever run dry, does it?" you laugh softly.

"You are going to break this machine one day," came his mumbled retort but the sparkle of his smile said everything you needed to know.

"This machine better not break," you poke at his dick for emphasis before pushing him unto his back, "or there will be hell to pay, Jeong Yunho." You couldn't quite help the laugh in your throat, and the need that still flared inside.

"Remember, this is a delicate and rare machine. Handling is important,” he retorts with an eyeroll, a smile on his lips.

"How delicate and how rare?" Your laughter erupts, causing him to smile even brighter.

"Rare and delicate. And belongs to one specific and important person in my life," Yunho shrugs nonchalantly. "Sooo, handle me with extra care, babe."

"Dually noted and observed," you promise and reach to slide yourself home.

Fuck, you’re a wreck for him.

And, honestly... You were okay with that.

If his promises came with a load or two more, then all the fucking better for it.

[poutysprouty]

CALL NUMBER: 69.GOJO

You work at the University library. Gojo has made it his mission to bother you during every shift. But when the cocky Physics professor finds your guilty pleasure read, your quiet night takes a wildly unexpected turn.

pairing: Librarian!Reader x Physics Professor!Gojo

warnings: 18+ MDNI. porn with slight plot, cursing, dirty talk, praise, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, slightly public sex? idk, the library is closed and locked you tell me, Satoru is lowkey downbad.

wc: 6.0k

a/n: in case anybody is curious, the title is a reference to call numbers on books in libraries!

Satoru Gojo showed up every weekday at 4:03 PM.

Not 4:00. Not 4:05. Four-oh-three. It was too precise to be accidental. The worst part was, you were starting to look up from your desk the second the clock ticked past four. Like clockwork, the Physics professor would enter the library with a smirk on his face and a new way to annoy you locked and loaded.

He never checked anything out. Never asked for help.

Just wandered the stacks, tracing his fingers along the spines of books he had no intention of reading. Always in those crisp shirts with unbuttoned collars and tailored pants, with a pair of mirrored sunglasses that were absolutely against the staff dress code.

You’d checked. Twice.

You suspected he thought his presence was charming. And judging by the giggles from some of the undergrads who frequented the library, he wasn’t wrong. But you? You were one smug comment away from printing a sign that read:

“NO PHYSICS PROFESSORS BEYOND THIS POINT.”

In bold, 18pt font. Maybe with a drawing of his face and a red X over it.

But of course, that would be “inappropriate conduct,” and your boss already thought you were too territorial about your space. She’d often compared you to a dragon who hoarded books.

So instead, you suffered.

You endured the monologues about theoretical wormholes and particle alignment and concepts that had about as much relevance to your life as interpretive dance had to quantum mechanics.

Today was no different.

“Did you know,” he began, leaning across the circulation desk, voice light, “that in quantum entanglement, two particles can be miles apart and still react to each other instantly?” His glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose, revealing crystalline blue eyes that seemed too bright to be real. “Kind of like us! You over here, trying not to look at me. Me over there, feeling it anyway.”

You blinked. “So... they like, text each other or something?”

He grinned. “Better. It’s like they vibe.”

You stared at him. “I don’t think I’m vibing with you.”

“Ah, denial,” he sighed, feigning disappointment, tucking his sunglasses into the front of his shirt. “A classic defense mechanism. But fine, I’ll try a more literary approach.”

You watched cautiously as he reached behind himself and plucked a random hardcover from the returns cart. He held it up and read the title aloud.

“I think this one’s about me,” he mused, tilting the cover toward you. “A misunderstood soul. Trapped. Yearning. Sexy.”

Your brow arched. “It’s about a traumatized ex-soldier who lives in a cabin and can’t talk to women.”

Gojo pressed a hand to his heart. “God. It is about me.”

You sighed and stood up to take the book from him. “Please don’t mess with the returns cart. I have it organized and would prefer it to stay that way.”

Gojo pouted like a scolded child, lips pushing out in a dramatic, overdone frown, but he released the book with a little sigh of mock sorrow.

Then, without warning, he collapsed across the circulation desk like he was a fainting Victorian heroine. He let his long body collapse across the edge of the circulation desk, arms sliding dramatically over the wood surface, and his chin thunked against the polished wood with a muttered “ow”.

Sometimes, it was hard for you to remember that this was a 29 year old man with a PhD in Physics and a tenure.

You returned your focus to the task at hand: scanning the barcodes on a pile of returns, logging them into the system, sliding each book into its designated bin to later be added to the returns cart. The quiet beeps of the scanner were comforting, a rhythm that usually soothed you. But today, with Gojo’s exaggerated sighs and occasional hums filling the space around your desk, your concentration frayed at the edges.

He didn’t speak. Just watched.

It wasn’t until you reached for your reading glasses, sliding open the drawer and perching them delicately on the bridge of your nose, that he spoke up again.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, not even bothering to pretend like he wasn’t checking you out. “You wear glasses? You’re killing me.”

You didn’t look up. “They’re for work.”

He didn’t flinch, just continued yapping like you hadn’t said a word.

“I mean, I already had a thing for you, obviously,” he continued, voice dropping an octave, “All you need now is a pencil in your hair and a silk blouse, and I’m done for.”

Heat flared instantly in your cheeks. You kept your head down, hoping the computer screen would provide some cover, but he noticed anyway.

“You’re blushing,” he sing-songed.

“No, I’m not,” you lied.

“You totally are! You like when I flirt with you. I knew it.”

“You’re delusional,” you muttered. “Go flirt with someone else.”

“I’d much rather flirt with you.”

“Maybe I’ll make that sign after all,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

He leaned in just a bit, his voice low and teasing. “Ohh, a sign? Make it say ‘Trespassers will be kissed.’ I’ll break that rule hourly.”

Despite every effort to seem unaffected, your skin continued to heat up with every second that passed. Determined this time to regain some semblance of control, you forced your gaze downward, fixing it on the neatly stacked books waiting to be processed. You told yourself firmly: Ignore him. Just ignore him.

But Gojo, of course, had other plans.

Leaning forward across the circulation desk, his gaze snagged on something perched atop your purse—something that, under normal circumstances, would remain hidden from view. The book sat there, its cover partially obscured, visible only if someone was positioned just so, leaning close enough to peer over the desk. Much like Gojo was right now.

“What’s that you’re reading?” His voice dropped into a murmur, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You squinted at him, blinking slowly. “What are you talking about?” you asked.

Without a word, he tilted his head slightly, nodding in the direction of the book. The subtle gesture drew your eyes to the spot.

The moment you saw the cover, your breath hitched just a little. Your cheeks flared even hotter, and without thinking, you slid your foot back a bit, giving your purse a sharp kick. The purse and the book both vanished beneath the desk, hidden in the shadows, out of sight.

“Nothing to worry about,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though the faint tremor betrayed your nerves.

Gojo chuckled softly. “Must be something naughty,” he said with a teasing grin, “if you’re reacting like that.”

You didn’t answer and you kept your eyes firmly on the screen as if it might shield you from his presence.

A low whistle slipped past his lips, but he didn’t say more, just plastered an easy, knowing smile on his face.

He glanced at his watch and stood up. “I’d love to stay longer,” he said, stretching his long arms over his head, “but I have a tutoring session in twenty minutes.”

He looked back at you, eyes gleaming with a sudden spark of mischief. “How about a kiss goodbye?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “Hell would freeze over before you got a kiss from me.”

Gojo laughed. “We’ll see about that.”

With one last wink, he turned on his heel and strode out of the library. You exhaled slowly, trying to calm your still-racing heart and praying he didn’t have the chance to memorize the title of the book before you’d hidden it.

— — —

Friday arrived under a cover of clouds and the threat of rain. The library matched the mood all day, with low foot traffic and lower voices. You welcomed the hush.

By the time the wall clock above the circulation desk ticked to 4:03 PM, you were halfway through organizing the reserve shelf behind the counter. Your hand paused briefly over an anthology, your eyes already darting to the front doors.

They remained closed.

Your chest felt… odd. Like you’d been bracing for something and were disappointed that it never came.

Gojo wasn’t there.

You told yourself that it was a good thing. He was disruptive. Loud. Always making some smug, unnecessary comment and leaning a little too far over the counter. Honestly, it was about time he gave it a rest.

Still, you checked again at 4:07.

Just in case.

By 4:15, you were scolding yourself for the glances. By 4:25, you were trying to distract yourself via mentally drafting a list of new arrivals you could process in peace for once. And by 4:45, you had almost convinced yourself you didn’t care at all.

Almost.

You kept your head down and fell into your routine. You manned the desk. Answered two separate panicked freshmen asking where the printer queue was. You filed five returns, denied one student’s (admittedly very creative) excuse for not paying a late fee, and by the time 7:30 PM rolled around, there was nobody left in the whole building except for you.

The end of the day was in sight. You stood, stretching the stiffness from your spine, and made your way to the backroom. The new book deliveries had arrived late in the afternoon. Three boxes in total, freshly opened and stacked onto one of the wheeled carts. The smell of new paper was faint but unmistakable, calming your nerves as you began wheeling the cart out.

You emerged from the staff hallway and stopped so suddenly the cart gave a slight jolt.

He was there.

Gojo stood at the desk. Leaning against the edge, posture relaxed, legs crossed at the ankles like he didn’t have a care in the world, his white hair slightly mussed with a few strands falling across his forehead.

Your heart skipped, and then you realized he wasn’t looking around for you.

He was reading.

Your feet began to move again on autopilot, steps slow but steady as you guided the cart closer. You kept your expression carefully neutral, though your eyes narrowed slightly with suspicion. Gojo rarely touched the books unless he was using one as a prop for some elaborate joke or stupid pickup line. You half expected him to lift his head and start monologuing about quantum entanglement again.

But he didn’t.

His eyes were on the page, his mouth slightly parted in concentration. He was engaged. Focused.

And then you saw what he was reading.

The book.

The same one from yesterday. The one whose plot had less to do with character development and more to do with how many surfaces a couple could have wild sex on before getting caught.

He was reading it.

Openly.

At your desk.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Gojo glanced up as you got closer. His smile was small and deceptively sweet, head tilted just enough to let a few strands of pale hair fall across his forehead. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his strong forearms, his long fingers curled loosely around the edges of the book.

“Evening,” he murmured, watching you closely as you approached.

“What are you doing here?” you managed, wishing it sounded more annoyed and less breathless. You glanced at the clock. “The library closes in twenty-five minutes.”

Gojo hummed as he slowly closed the book. It made a soft thwack as it shut, a sound that seemed far too loud in the quiet between you.

"Thought I’d get in a little… research," he said smoothly. There was a deliberate lilt to the last word.

Your stomach twisted.

“So… This the stuff you’re into?” he asked, raising the book slightly.

“Give it here,” you demanded, flustered as you stepped forward, hand outstretched.

He laughed and lifted the book just out of reach, his long arm rising easily above your head.

“I don’t know,” he teased, leaning back slightly to make you follow, “I’m kind of invested now.”

You glared, stepping even closer, nearly pressed up against him as you reached again.

“I bought it last night,” he added casually, his free hand dropping to rest on the edge of the desk behind him, letting his long frame stretch lazily across the space. “Stopped by that used bookstore on 3rd. Thought that if it’s good enough to make you blush like that…”

You made a frustrated noise and reached once more, on your tiptoes now and internally cursing his height. He evaded you easily.

“Stayed up most of the night reading it,” he went on, voice dropping lower. “Can’t say I regret it. You’ve got excellent taste.”

His breath fanned across your cheek and you realized how close he’d gotten. Just the barest inch separated you now. He hadn’t touched you, but the way he leaned in made your entire body go taut.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words got stuck in your throat as Gojo leaned in closer, his lips brushing close to your ear.

“Gotta say,” he hummed, “that shower scene in chapter eight? Gave me ideas. Got me thinking, y’know… I wouldn’t mind reenacting some of these scenes sometime.”

You froze.

Your muscles locked, eyes fixed on him as your heart thudded in a wild rhythm beneath your skin. It was like he’d reached into your chest and flipped a switch you hadn’t known was there.

He had actually read the book.

Not skimmed. Not peeked. Read. Enough that he remembered chapter eight. Chapter eight, the one you’d re-read more times than you’d like to admit, the one that had made you shift under your covers late at night with flushed cheeks and wetness pooling in your panties. It was vivid. Explicit. The scene that had convinced you to buy the rest of the series. And now Gojo had read it, too.

You couldn’t look at him.

He tilted his head and raised one hand. His fingers found your chin, tilting your face upward until your eyes met his.

Your breath hitched the moment your gaze locked.

It was overwhelming. His presence always had been. But now, with his touch burning softly against your skin, it felt like your brain had gone entirely offline.

And then he leaned in. So close you could feel his breath ghost across your lips, could practically taste the mint on it. Every inch of you buzzed. The space between your lips was razor-thin.

“I’d like to reenact them with you,” he murmured, voice just above a whisper, “if you’d let me.”

You swallowed, hard. Your throat was suddenly dry, and the sentence that finally escaped you came out quieter than you intended.

“That’s… not appropriate.”

It was weak. You hated how weak it sounded. You hated that you didn’t sound more confident, more indignant. Gojo, of course, only seemed more amused by that.

He laughed. A deep, rich chuckle that rumbled in his chest, just inches from your own. His smile widened.

Then, he let the book fall from his hand. It landed with a dull thump on the desk behind him, the sound barely registering over the roaring in your ears. His now-free hand slipped around your waist like it belonged there. His palm settled at the small of your back, fingers splaying out possessively.

And then he pulled. Just enough for your body to brush against his, just enough that you could feel the lines of his chest through that button-up shirt he never wore properly. Just enough to make your lungs follow your brain and forget how to work.

His voice dipped again, “In case you haven’t noticed, sweets,” he murmured, “I don’t give a shit about what’s appropriate.”

Gojo closed the distance between you, his movements slow like he wanted you to have every moment to decide if this was something you wanted, too. His lips met yours with a feather-light brush that caused warmth to begin blooming deep inside your chest. The library around you faded until there was only the press of his mouth on yours.

His kiss was gentle at first, testing the waters, almost hesitant, as if he were feeling his way through uncharted territory. You could feel the faint tremor in his fingers as his breath mingled with yours, the slight parting of his lips as he deepened the kiss just a fraction, and the careful way his hands hovered near your waist, as though he was unsure if you’d let him pull you closer.

You stayed still, caught off guard by the tenderness of the kiss. Your body felt light and heavy all at once, nerves sparking beneath your skin. The taste of him was faintly minty, comforting, and downright addictive.

After a few seconds, he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. His voice was low, almost a murmur.

“If at any point you want to stop, just hit me.”

There was a vulnerability in his tone as he spoke that surprised you. Before you could find your voice or respond, he leaned back in, this time with more urgency.

His lips pressed against yours again, more demanding this time. His hands slid down from hovering to resting firmly on your hips, fingers spreading wide and pulling you flush against him. The heat radiating from his body seeped into yours, melting away your last defenses. Your own arms rose, trembling slightly as you wrapped them around his shoulders, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt.

Every nerve ending in your body felt alive, from the ache in your fingertips, to the quickened thrum of your pulse, to the rush of warmth flooding your core.

But then, as the kiss deepened, you suddenly remembered where you were. With a gentle but firm tug, you pulled away just enough to catch your breath. Your chest rose and fell in quick pants as you tried to steady your racing heart. Your voice came out breathless.

“The door is still unlocked, someone could walk in,” you whispered, glancing toward the heavy wooden door on the other side of the room. After hours or not, it was a very real possibility.

Gojo chuckled. His grin was infuriatingly confident, that signature crooked smile that made your knees weak.

“Nobody will walk in on us,” he said. “I locked it when I came in.”

You squinted at him suspiciously. You realized then that he had planned this, had hoped for this exact outcome from the start.

He caught your eyes and, instead of explaining, simply shot you that cheeky grin again. Without a word, he pulled you back in close, his lips capturing yours once more in a kiss.

Gojo deepened the kiss, his tongue delving past your parted lips to tangle with yours. His large hands gripped your hips possessively, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Instinctively, you began to grind yourself against him, seeking friction, craving more of his touch. 

Gojo groaned into the kiss, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against you. He tightened his hold on your hips and started to guide you, rolling your clothed pussy against the prominent bulge straining against his slacks.

Your head fell back with a gasp.

"That's it, sweetheart," Gojo purred, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

As he spoke, Gojo's lips began assaulting the column of your throat. He peppered the sensitive skin with open-mouthed kisses, occasionally grazing his teeth over your pulse point or suckling lightly. Each touch left you trembling and whimpering with need.

Lost in the onslaught of sensations, you found yourself being maneuvered. Before you knew it, Gojo had lifted you onto the edge of the circulation desk.

"Lift up for me, darling." His fingers made quick work of the button on your pants. With your assistance, he slowly peeled the fabric down your legs, his hands trailing teasingly along your skin.

Once your pants were discarded, Gojo lowered himself to his knees, settled between your thighs, pushing them apart. He gazed up at you with hooded eyes, his expression absolutely ravenous.

"You're absolutely stunning," he murmured, drinking in the sight of you before him. Then, without warning, he leaned in and placed an open-mouthed kiss to your clothed sex. The damp heat of his mouth seeped through the thin barrier of your panties, making you jolt and gasp.

Gojo didn't waste any more time. With a wicked grin, he began to devour you through the damp fabric of your panties.

His tongue traced over your slit with broad, firm strokes, feeling the shape of your folds even through the thin material. He focused his attention on your clit, circling and flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves until you were writhing above him.

"Mmm, you taste even better than I imagined," he growled against your core, the vibrations making your toes curl. Gojo hooked his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and tugged them down your legs, fully exposing you to his hungry gaze. He hoisted one of your thighs over his shoulder, wrapping one large hand around it to keep it in place.

Without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue up your dripping center, savoring your essence.

As Gojo's tongue slid up your slick folds, a choked moan escaped your lips. The sensation was overwhelming, every lick sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"God, you're so wet," he murmured against your pussy. His words sent a shiver through you, adding to the growing tension coiling in your stomach.

Gojo shifted closer, pressing his face deeper into your sex. He continued to lap at your juices, paying special attention to your swollen clit. His tongue swirled around the sensitive nub, driving you crazy with desire.

Your hips bucked involuntarily, grinding against his face. You couldn't help but pant and whimper.

"Ah! Ohh fuck!" You cried out, arching off the desk as he sucked your clit into his mouth. Your fingers dug into the wood of the desk as you fought to keep yourself upright.

Gojo reached up and grabbed one of your hands, guiding it to the top of his head. "Don't be shy now, baby. Hold on tight," he commanded with a wink. "Ride my face, sweetheart. Take your pleasure."

His words sent a bolt of lust straight to your core. Trembling, you fisted your hand in his silky white hair, holding on for dear life as you began to grind yourself shamelessly against his tongue.

Gojo groaned in approval, the sound muffled by your dripping folds. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue plunging deep into your channel, fucking you with swift, sure strokes.

While you guided his pace, one of Gojo's large hands slid up your body. He palmed your breast roughly, kneading the soft flesh. His thumb and forefinger found your nipple, pinching and rolling the hardened peak through the thin fabric of your shirt.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous like this," he growled, pulling back just enough to speak. His chin and lips glistened with your arousal. "So desperate, so needy. Love seeing you fall apart for me."

He punctuated his words with a sharp nip to your inner thigh before diving back in, sucking your clit hard into his mouth again.

A scream tore from your throat as the suction suddenly sent you hurtling over the edge. Your vision blurred, eyes rolling back in their sockets as wave after wave of mind-numbing pleasure crashed over you. Your body convulsed, hips jerking wildly as you rode out your climax. Gojo lapped at your spasming cunt, greedily swallowing every drop that leaked out.

Even as you slowly came down from your high, Gojo remained attached, his mouth still sealed to your sensitive flesh. He purred contentedly, eyes closed in bliss, clearly savoring the taste of your essence.

He finally released your throbbing clit with a wet pop, pulling back to admire his handiwork. A satisfied smirk played on his lips as he licked them clean, savoring the taste of your release.

He kissed his way up your quivering body slowly, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Reaching the hem of your shirt, he pushed it up and over your breasts, revealing the lacy bra underneath. His eyes darkened with hunger as he took in the sight. He grasped the front of your bra and tugged it down, freeing your breasts to his eager eyes.

Gojo wasted no time in claiming one pert nipple into his hot mouth. He suckled greedily, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as his hand cupped and massaged its twin.

You arched into his touch, a whiny moan escaping your lips as he lavished attention on your aching nipples. His mouth was pure heaven, each suckle sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

At the same time, he ground his hips against your slick entrance, the fabric of his pants rubbing deliciously against your sensitive folds. The dual sensations quickly had you teetering on the brink once more.

Gojo's free hand slid down to palm your ass, squeezing the plump cheeks as he continued to feast on your breasts. He broke the seal on your nipple with a wet pop, blowing cool air across the wet skin before moving to attend to its mate.

"Want you so bad, baby," he moaned against your breast, voice rough with desire. "Gonna make you cum all over my cock."

"Please, Gojo," you begged, your voice breathless with need.

Your hips rocked up eagerly. Gojo's eyes flashed at your pleading, and he pulled away from your heaving breasts.

With a fluid motion, he unfastened his jeans and yanked them down, along with his boxers, just enough to free his straining erection. He gave his thick cock a few pumps, spreading the precum that had already begun to leak from the tip.

When you finally caught a glimpse of his length, you could barely contain your gasp. Even in the dim light of the library, you could tell he was big. Not big in length, though he was certainly above average in that department, but big in girth. You quickly regained your composure, subtly parting your thighs in invitation.

Gojo's smirk widened as he noticed your subtle gesture. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss as he notched the broad head of his cock against your soaked entrance.

You moaned into the kiss, your body trying to draw him in. But Gojo held back, content to tease you with shallow thrusts, rubbing his cockhead against your clit and then dipping just inside your fluttering hole before retreating again.

He alternated between gentle pressure and almost nothing at all. It was enough to keep you teetering on the edge, but never quite tipping over.

Breaking the kiss, Gojo looked down at you with a wicked glint in his blue eyes. "Beg for me, sweetheart," he urged, his voice low and husky.

You whimpered, torn between your own pride and the desire for him to fuck you. But the ache between your thighs won out, and you found yourself whispering, "Please, Gojo. Need you inside me."

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated against your lips. "Such a good girl," he praised.

Emboldened by his reaction, you wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull him in deeper. But Gojo held steady, his grip on your hips firm as he continued to tease your entrance with just the tip of his cock.

He pressed in just a little further, giving you a taste of what was to come before withdrawing again. You huffed in frustration.

“Gojo, I already did what you asked. Just fuck me already!”

He grinned, clearly enjoying your desperation. "Alright, alright. Since you asked so nicely..."

Gojo’s grip on your hips tightened and he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt in one stroke. A guttural moan ripped from his throat as he bottomed out, your walls clenching tightly around his thick shaft. 

Then, with a roll of his hips, Gojo began to move. He set a relentless pace, pounding into you with long, deep strokes that hit all the right spots.

Gojo's powerful thrusts shook the desk beneath you, the edges scraping against the floor as he pounded into your willing body. Each stroke drove you higher, the force of his hips slamming against yours sending sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.

His mouth roamed freely over your exposed skin, leaving a trail of love bites and hickies in its wake. You felt his teeth graze your collarbone, your earlobe, the tender swell of your breasts. His lips and tongue worked magic, drawing gasps and moans from your lips.

Your hands clawed at his back, nails digging into the muscles flexing beneath his shirt. The fabric stretched taut over his shoulders, and you knew you'd leave your own marks on him when he eventually pulled away.

Gojo's rhythm faltered for a moment as you squeezed around him, his chest heaving against yours. But then he started talking, his voice a low murmur against your skin.

"Fucking hell, you feel incredible," he rasped, his hips picking up speed once more. "So tight, so wet, so damn responsive."

As if to emphasize his point, he slammed into you particularly hard, his cockhead finding your g-spot and hitting it dead on. "I've wanted this for so long. Ever since I first saw you behind this desk. Watching you, imagining what you'd look like bent over it, begging for my dick..."

He must’ve felt the way your walls fluttered just a bit at his words, because a feral, knowing smirk grew on his lips. "That's right baby, think about how much I needed this. How much I craved sinking my cock into your sweet little cunt."

Panting heavily, you managed to choke out, "I-I always wanted this, too. Even though I tried to pretend I didn't. Thought about you when I read those books."

A sly grin spread across Gojo's face as he heard your confession. "So you imagined us like this, huh? Fucking like animals?"

Hoisting your legs over his shoulders, he locked your ankles behind his head, bending down so your knees were nearly at your shoulders and pinning you in place. The new angle allowed him to plunge even deeper, his cock dragging against your innermost walls with each brutal stroke.

"You filthy little slut," he growled. "Reading those dirty books, fantasizing about being fucked senseless by me."

Moaning and nodding frantically, you couldn't form coherent sentences anymore.

"Look at you, so fucking cock drunk for me," Gojo taunted. "Can't even string together a proper sentence."

Dazed, you gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes, whimpering brokenly as he continued to ravage your body. Your walls clenched tighter around him, signaling your impending climax.

Gojo cooed encouragingly, his fingers trailing down your cheek to wipe away a stray droplet of saliva that had escaped your lips. Then, to your surprise, he pushed two digits past your parted lips, curling them against your tongue.

You sucked on them greedily, eyes rolling back as he worked them in and out. At the same time, his other hand descended to find your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles. With a slam of his hips, he nailed your g-spot perfectly, sending you hurtling over the precipice.

Your body seized, a wail tearing from your throat. Waves of intense pleasure crashed through you, causing your pussy to spasm and gush around Gojo's pistoning cock. He groaned at the sensation, hips stuttering as your walls rippled along his length. "Fuuuck, yeah, milk my cock, baby."

Gojo continued to pound into you, riding out your orgasm and prolonging your pleasure. His own climax was close, his balls tightening as he chased his own release.

With a final, brutal thrust, Gojo buried himself to the hilt inside you, his thick cock pulsating as he reached his peak. You felt his hot seed spurting deep within your convulsing walls, filling you up.

He didn't withdraw, instead holding still and letting the waves of his orgasm wash over him. As he came down from his high, Gojo captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

The intensity of the moment left you breathless and trembling, your body still quaking from the aftershocks of your climax. As Gojo gradually softened inside you, he broke the kiss, his eyes searching yours. Slowly, he withdrew from your spent body, his softening cock slipping free. But rather than immediately disentangling from you, he remained on top of you.

You could feel the sweat on his skin and the rapid beat of his heart against your stomach. His arms encircled you, holding you close as he nuzzled into the valley of your breasts.

“You okay?” he asked finally, his voice soft, as though speaking any louder would break the fragile moment between you.

You nodded and reached down with a trembling hand, your fingers brushing gently across his forehead to sweep a damp lock of hair away from his eyes. His lips curved into a warm smile as he leaned into your touch, eyelids fluttering half closed.

Then, he tilted his head, eyes sparkling as he murmured, “Wanna continue this somewhere a little more private? Maybe somewhere with a bed? Like, say, my place?”

You couldn’t help it. A tired, breathless giggle escaped your lips as you rolled your eyes at him, even as your fingers slid a little deeper into his hair.

“Only if you’re planning to feed me after all of this,” you teased.

Gojo let out a laugh, his face lighting up like he couldn’t believe you were real. “Deal,” he said easily, dipping his head to press a slow, lazy kiss against your collarbone, breath warming your skin. “I’ll order you anything you want.”

After a bit longer of laying there, catching your breath, the two of you finally started moving again.

Gojo helped you clean up and straighten your clothes. His touch lingered here and there, almost as if he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed to touch you like this now. You could barely believe it yourself.

“I’ll have to come back in tomorrow,” you murmured. Your voice came out a little hoarse, your throat still dry. “I didn’t get through any of what I was hoping to tonight.”

Gojo tilted his head, his white hair catching the low lighting. “Since I’m the one who, uh… interfered,” he said, suddenly sounding sheepish, “I’ll come in and help.”

You blinked at him, eyebrows lifting as you followed him to the door. “Now you offer to help?” you scoffed, voice laced with amusement. “After months of bugging me, flirting with me, and loitering in the stacks?”

“Excuse me, I’ll have you know I was already helping by enriching the atmosphere with my charming presence.”

You snorted as you stepped outside into the warm night air beside him. “You’ve been haunting the library like a poltergeist.”

“That’s Professor Poltergeist to you,” he replied smoothly, making you roll your eyes as you reached out to lock the door behind you, testing the handle once just to be sure.

Gojo stood beside you as you locked up, his hands shoved in his pockets as he kept his gaze fixed on you. There was something different about the way he looked at you now.

“I don’t want this to be a one time thing,” he finally admitted.

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. His sunglasses were tucked into his shirt pocket, leaving nothing between you and the full force of those beautiful blue eyes. The mischievous sparkle was still there, but behind it was something else. Something hopeful, maybe a little vulnerable.

“I don’t want it to be a one time thing either,” you said, your voice coming out softer than you expected. 

The smile that stretched across his face in response wasn’t the usual cocky thing you were used to. It was softer, and impossibly radiant. He shifted a little closer, shoulder brushing yours as the two of you walked down the front steps.

Gojo let out a quiet breath and then said, more to himself than to you, “Good. Because I don’t think I could pretend to go back to how things were.”

You didn’t answer, at least, not with words. But you reached out, gently threading your fingers through his as you walked, and when his grip tightened around yours, it said everything you needed to hear.

[chase-solidago]

Invasive Species and Xenophobia

Invasive species are complicated! People have a lot of feelings about them, positive and negative. Are plants that move "invaders" "colonizing", "immigrants", "citizens"? What does it mean to kill species that are from somewhere else? What if that species legitimately makes a poor neighbor and causes extinctions in other, native species? This complex, culturally-loaded issue is a foundational issue behind a lot of plant conservation and restoration.

This is a juicy and still actively disputed topic! The Guardian recently had a big article on colonialism in Botany, (tbh her views are dated and reductive, imo) and it’s come up again this week, to much hostility (cw: reddit). Yes, my region's native plant restoration came from literal nazis, but also, the impacts of some invasive species are real, not figments of a racist imagination. How do we balance these issues? What does ethical invasive management look like?

Since it’s such a juicy topic, I wanted to offer a few fun readings to share:

The Native Plant Enthusiasm: Ecological Panacea or Xenophobia?, Gert Gröning and Joachim Wolschke-Bulmahn, 2004, Arnoldia.

THE CLASSIC 20th century German nazis and native plants paper. Made a huge splash when it came out, and you will still encounter people who paint all native plant stuff with this brush. Summary: yeah the nazis loved their native plants and used them as part of their conquering process. Also, the first prairie plantings ever, located in Chicago, were done by a racist probable-nazi for racist reasons, full stop. I’ll let him speak for himself: “The gardens that I created myself shall… be in harmony with their landscape environment and the racial characteristics of its inhabitants. They shall express the spirit of America and therefore shall be free of foreign character as far as possible… the Latin and the Oriental crept and creeps more and more over our land, coming from the South, which is settled by Latin people, and also from other centers of mixed masses of immigrants. The Germanic character of our race, of our cities and settlements was overgrown by foreign character. The Latin spirit has spoiled a lot and still spoils things every day.” - Jens Jensen

Botanical decolonization: rethinking native plants, Tomaz Mastnak, 2014, Environment and Planning D: Society and Space

Rather than viewing native plant plantings as an act of racially-pure occupation, Mastnak positions native plants in California as a decolonization of the sub/urban lawn. Uses a lot of quotations from 16th century English philosopher Francis Bacon, and is heavy on the philosophical musings.

From killing lists to healthy country: Aboriginal approaches to weed control in the Kimberley, Western Australia by Bach et al., 2019, Journal of Environmental Management.

This paper talks through some of the native vs invasive debate, and offers a different perspective on how to approach to plant invasive management based on cultural relations, rather than country of origin or behavior.

Beyond ‘Native V. Alien’: Critiques of the Native/alien Paradigm in the Anthropocene, and Their Implications, Charles R. Warren, 2021, Ethics, Policy, & Environment

DENSE but thorough, if you want to follow the entire history of the native/invasive debate, this has you covered. The most interesting stuff, in my opinion, is the discussion of invasive denialism, IE: the impasse of “You’re just being racist!” Vs “You know nothing about ecology!” I recommend the Discussion, which starts on page 13.

[kbwrites]

Husband! Nanami

synopsis: your husband comes home for another long and arduous day. He only wishes to stay with you forever.

⚝tags: husband!nanami, reader is a housewife, nsfw, nanami loves eating his wife out

⚝wc: 1.6k

Husband Nanami! Drags his feet, trudging wearily to the entrance of his shared home. Each step heavier than the last. Work has been increasingly stressful, each day more demanding than the last. Today was no different. He brings a tired hand up to the doorknob, turning it slowly. The soft yellow light of the foyer illuminates his face, the scent of his safe space hitting his nostrils.

“Kento?” There it was, the most melodious symphony he’d ever heard. Rounding the corner it was you, his loving wife. In that moment it seems as though all the stress from the day melts away, a small smile graces his lips and his tired eyes close briefly.

“Hello dear.”

Kento wasn’t exactly sure when he fell in love with you, just that at some point he stopped being able to imagine what life would be like without your presence. You became his peace, a ray of sunshine that cut through the darkness in his life. He never believed in karma or fate, but sometimes he’d wonder what he had done in his life to be deserving of your love.

He slips out of his shoes, heavy footsteps and drooping shoulders trudge toward you. He wrapped his strong arms around you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Kento bends down slightly, burying his head into your hair allowing your scent to permeate his senses. You always smelled so good… A low hum of content emanates from his throat, almost like a cat purring. His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly close.

“How was your day?” He mumbles into your skin.

“My day was good.” You reply quietly. “What about you?”

“Long. Tiring..” He says with a sigh, pulling away slightly so he can have a better look at his sunshine. His hand reaches to cup your face, thumb making small circles on your cheek. You look at your husband, honey-colored eyes half-lidded, dark circles occupying his face. It was taking everything in him to stand right now.

“Are you hungry?” You muse, nuzzling your face into his hand. He only nods, still looking at you with tired eyes. Taking the hand that held your face you lead him to the dining room. The smell of food wafts through the room, a plate of steak and mashed potatoes, still hot. He takes a seat at the table, eyes lighting up at the dish.

“Thank you, my love.” He says before taking a bite, his eyes closing in satisfaction as the savory taste hits his tongue. He loved your cooking, it was like a balm to his weary soul. He continues eating in silence, looking up at you. You rest your chin in your hands, smiling at your husband.

“You’re not eating?” He says after swallowing.

“I ate before you came home.” A pang of guilt washes over him, Kento knows you probably waited as long as you could hoping you could hold out and wait to eat with him. With all the long hours he’s been putting in, he's barely had time for the one thing that made his life worth living

“I’m sorry…” He reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You just smile, how did he end up with an angel?

He finishes eating his food, you get up grabbing the empty plate. Kento gently grabs hold of your wrist.

“Please, you cooked let me-”

“You can barely stand Ken.” You’re right, he’s come to find out that you usually are. He sinks back in the chair, too exhausted to protest. After loading the dishwasher you come back into the dining room, your husband exactly where you left him. Fighting off sleep in the chair.

You take his large hand in your smaller one, leading him to the bathroom. Although, Nanami is a serious man, one who was insistent on retiring you when you got married. He secretly loved when you took care of him, your gentle hands working his sore muscles combined with the hot water cascading down his body; he thinks in this moment he could fall asleep standing up.

He looks down at his wife fussing over him, your naked form, suds of soap covering your glistening skin. Even running on 3 hours of sleep the desire in him for his lover burns. His hands roam over your curves, gripping your hips. You pause your movements looking up at him as he pulls you closer, pads of his fingers digging lightly into the fat of your hips. How long had it been since he touched his wife? Made her writhe under him? Far too long in his opinion.

You finish the shower, leading his towel-clad body to your bedroom, drying him off you grab his night clothes from the top drawer. Suddenly bashful at all the attention you’ve been giving him Kento grabs your arm as you try to slip on his pajama pants. You look up at him inquisitively.

“Kento?” He doesn’t answer, just pulls you onto his lap. His large hands holding you in place.

“Darling..” His voice hoarse. Your body shivers in response, even after a year of marriage the sight before you— his chiseled abs, damp blond hair framing his sharp features, his lips parted and pupils blown… It was still too much. You feel the arousal pool between your legs.

“K-kento, you’re tired...” You try to be the voice of reason, but the love of your life looks so damn good right now. He places soft kisses on your chest, setting fire to your skin.

“You’ve been so good to me, allow me this.” He says before trailing kisses up and down your neck. His hands leave your waist, his touch slow and deliberate. His lips ghost over you, landing next to your ear.

“It’s been terrible my love… working all day when I’d rather be here… having you.” His breath against your ear.

“Ken!” You say embarrassed, he was always so blunt when you were having sex. “Just don’t go overboard…” You chide in between moans, your hands find his damp hair, raking through it gently. 

He uses the bit of strength he has left to lay you down on the bed, your back hitting the plush comforter. His hand trailing between your legs, he groans as he feels the wetness between your folds. Your back arches as he brings his digits up to your clit, making slow deliberate circles.

He looks up at you, eyes clouded with lust.

“Honey, I need you.” Is all he says before he buries his face into your cunt.

His tongue darting out to lap up all of your slick. Your darling husband sucking gently on your clit as his fingers tease your entrance. Your moans and whimpers only serve to encourage him. His long finger slides in, curling it upwards to your sweet spot.

“Kento~ s’good” You breathe, one hand snakes up to your stomach, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. His way of saying he heard you. His eyes flutter shut, completely enraptured in pleasing his precious wife. All the paperwork, unnecessarily long meeting with his boss, the entire shit storm of the day all seems to float away as he rests between your thighs.

“So good f’me my love.” He mumbles against your skin. The hand he had on your stomach reaches below to his growing erection. He wraps his hand around his thick length, rutting into his tight fist. He moans against your cunt, imagining his fist were your heavenly walls.

He knows you so well, just by the slight change in your voice he can tell he’s bringing you closer to the edge. His pace quickens, inserting another thick finger into your cunt, your walls flutter around him. Hot squelching noises emanate from your core. He released your clit with a ‘pop’ using the wet muscle to circle around the bundle of nerves. He wants so badly for you to cum, his own pleasure completely reliant on it. Your breath hitches, body spasms as you finally release. Your arousal coating his fingers, he removes them from you replacing them with his mouth. 

He greedily slurps up all the slick from your entrance, humming as your sweet essence coats his taste buds. 

“Kentooo” You whine, slightly overstimulated. You squirm trying to push your lover's head away from your throbbing cunt, he only grunts, strong arms holding your legs in place. Only after he’s had his fill he crawls up to you, resting your head on his broad chest. 

Your husband places kisses on your forehead, stroking your slightly damp hair. He takes deep breaths, helping to pace your own breathing. He looks down at his world, even your blissed out state was irresistible to him. 

“Was that too much for you my love?” He questions softly. You shake your head, a tired smile graces his lips.

“I’ve been neglecting you honey… I’m sorry.” He says apologetically, tracing patterns on your skin. You look up at him, the guilt evident on his face. 

He worked so hard so that you wouldn’t have to, his darling wife shouldn’t have to lift a finger. However he couldn’t bear the thought of you waiting up for him, missing him. The light of his life, so lonely in the big house he bought for her.

“It’s alright Ken.” You offer a gentle smile, of course, you missed your husband, but you didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was. 

“No. It isn’t.” He said firmly. “I’ll request more days off, I need rest. And I need you.” He holds you tight as if you’d disappear at any moment. His mind was set, you swoon at your husbands' words.

“Good.” You say smiling, he leans down to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He rolls over to his back, the exhaustion hitting him again. You throw the cover onto both of your bodies. Sleeping taking over him quickly. You place a kiss to your husband's cheek before closing your eyes.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬✧ ▬▭▬✧✧✧

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The hot summer party

Erik Campbell x fem!reader

warning : fluff, comfort, kissing, injury

Summary : The Campbell's summer party was coming up and Erik had taken his girlfriend along. But no one could have guessed what was going on in the fun and togetherness and when a scream rang out the ‘curse’ seemed to have struck.

info : Erik is such a cutie, I'm looking forward to the film and hope you all enjoy reading ;)

masterlist

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

Ever since she'd met him, her boyfriend with his hard exterior, countless tattoos and piercings, she'd fallen head over heels in love with him.

Erik also with his love, her enthusiasm and the support she gave him, new ideas for tattoos or when ordering the piercings and choosing the colour.

She was his muse and he was the artist who brought this art to people's skin.

A couple that got through everything together, whether it was the little salary they both made in their ‘artistic’ professions, the problems with bureaucracy or just getting through the week.

Lying exhausted on the couch together in the flat and cuddling...even when a series of accidents seemed to be haunting the city, they had each other to work with.

That wasn't going to matter, at least for today on this bright, warm, sunny summer's day when his family's party and get-together was due.

"I don't know, it's your family meeting", she wanted to wave it off at first, they had only been together for a few months and even though she had been to birthdays with him, she knew how close his family was. Was she really allowed into this circle?

But Erik's hand on hers as he pulled her to him and felt the kiss he gave her told her quite quickly that he had long considered her part of his family.

"They like you, I love you it's going to be good...besides you just have to make your strawberry muffins" he persuaded her and she gave him a nudge on the nose, a small token of love and her love for his somewhat ‘alternative’ look.

No sooner said than done, just two days later on that sunny weekend they both turned up at his family home, with a bottle of alcohol in one of Erik's and her with her muffins in the other, they were welcome guests.

"Oh how lovely that you're here too, dear," she heard his grandmother's cheerful voice and Iris pulled her into a warm embrace.

"Thank you Miss Campbell I-I hope the muffins taste good,” she replied with a slight smile and saw the older woman smile broadly when she saw the muffins with cream and strawberries on top.

They're not just Erik's favourite desserts, she thought to herself as Iris took a muffin and seemed to be in seventh heaven, "Sweetie, they're delicious, just call me Iris,” the head of the family said with a wink and she immediately felt welcome in the family.

How could she not when there was a warm, friendly and excited atmosphere all around her?

The trampoline was set up, the garden was in bloom, the kale was being stirred into drinks, Erik was on his way to the kitchen and she followed him to tell him about his grandma.

On the way, Erik's sister Julia gave her a hug that seemed to indicate that her older brother finally had a relationship, let alone a partner, "I'll do my best to support him" she replied as the blonde said goodbye with an already mixed drink outside.

The Campbells were a colourful mix of personalities, but they were all family, they all stuck together despite their differences, something she appreciated.

"So, my grill master, how's it going?" she asked, giving Erik a hug from behind, as he was busy wielding the wooden meat hammer to soften the steaks and load them onto a plate with the sausages.

"Well, your grill master is as good as ready," he grinned and gave the meat a final tap, putting the hammer aside and washing his hands to get the marinade and fat off, "I know where you got your appetite for my muffin now,” she grinned, hearing his laughter.

Giving him a quick kiss, she escorted him back outside before leaving him alone at the grill and joining the rest of his family who quickly engaged her in conversation about her job, how she met Erik and just a little small talk.

It was pleasant, she sipped her drink, twirled the cocktail umbrella and helped herself to one of her muffins, enjoying the sun and the few clouds in front of her and barely noticing the breeze, which was so inconsequential that she barely registered it.

She didn't see how the wind seemed to take over the garden, how it set something in motion little by little, and she was only startled when she heard the scream of Erik, who backed away from the barbecue and almost fell down when he held his hand.

Calling his name and immediately putting down her drink, she hurried over to the black-haired man who had been barbecuing peacefully moments before, seeing that something had tipped over the oil and the flames had shot up.

Looking back at Erik, he was being held by his father and his mother seemed to be looking for ice, the others made some room, "I'll take him inside, you get the first aid kit," she said as she remembered her first aid training when she had worked at the nursing home for a few summers to afford her car.

It had been a few months but it didn't matter how she had to deal with Erik's injury, if it was bad they would have to go to hospital straight away, "It...I'm fine thanks I'm still alive guys" the black haired man tried to reassure his family and girlfriend.

They helped him in and sat him on the couch while she stayed with him, "Your family is just as stubborn as you are” she tried to distract him from the pain of the burn, not wanting to imagine how the burning didn't seem to stop and put her hand on his arm.

"Well it has to come from somewhere” he said tensely and in his eyes there was pain and annoyance at the seeming accidental nature of the accident.

His mum brought the first aid kit and he talked to her for a few minutes that they could go, that they should carry on barbecuing and he'd be right with them.

"My brave boy" she smiled and he just shook his head slightly as he held out his hand to her. Lucky no bad burns and he can move it she thought as she looked at his hand and told him to move it.

The skin wasn't charred, nor was anything fused to the skin, it was mostly the shock that made him cry out, "Don't worry it will be ok" she reassured him and he immediately relaxed a little, "My good caring fairy" he replied and thanked her as she started to 'caress 'heal' him.

Every now and then his free hand held on to her, making a few unpleasant noises and asking how long it would take before she finally finished after a few minutes, looked at his bandaged hand and gave him a cold pack.

"My dear patient, but if you get any worse we'll go to the hospital, I don't want you-" she couldn't continue her lecture as Erik kissed her again pulling her to him.

She could just feel him smirking, pulling her close, kissing her whenever she got too lost in something, when he just wanted to know that she was with him.

That his love was always there for him.

Holding her hand and giving her his "When you're worried you're really hot” and he raised his hand demonstratively, causing her to smile as she gave him one last kiss and walked out with her dear patient.

Holding his hand they rejoined his family and in fact the party went off without incident, a sign that perhaps something bigger had brought them together.

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

@starry-eyed-wild-child , @porterroths , @soranokage , @l3ft2d3ad