#But i like perverts and freaks so im adding that into this

[daddyd0nt]

You implied it was art by comparing being asked to appropriately label your adult oriented blog to movements to censor rap music.

We've added in ableism to the salad too now this is getting hot and spicy XD

If you dont agree that such a warning is necessary why do you use one? if you agree that a warning is necessary what are you fighting me about? "You are wrong and what you are asking is unreasonable and that is why I am already doing it and Im going to counter you point about how its necessary by explaining that I agree with you so much that Im already doing what you ask"

And being exposed to violent kink themed gooner posts is not comparable to seeing an apple when it isnt on your shopping list? It isnt a similie just because you use the words "like" or "as" lmfao

Finally, threatening to commit a sex crime multiple times is not exactly beating the freak alligations. If you dont want people calling you a creepy pervert, dont threaten to commit sex crimes.

BTW just for fun I googled it and threatening not only to commit a crime but to commit a violent sex crime is literally not legal anywhere and also explicitly against the tumblr TOS

I wasn't even trying to be like "u mad" to be an asshole Im literally concerned for you at this point imagine being so mad at being asked to lable adult content so children don't access it (which you've agreed you already do so what are you even angry/disagreeing about?) that I THREATENED TO RAPE A STRANGER like it is not normal or healthy to feel like that in response to somebody setting a boundary jesus cant save you baby you need xanex

Sequestering shit to a kink blog is one thing but why TF are there multiple people on my timeline sharing rape-fetish text posts I hate it heal your fucking selves or at least contain it somewhere private if i follow you for fandom art i dont need to read how you want somebody to spank your clit while you pretend to be committing incest channel it into art or keep it separate

[kurjakani]

Imagining ur fictional crushes being almost a little fetishistically into fat people when ur a fat person can be so healing actually

[seeingivy]

picnic

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

(^^make sure you check since this was a double upload and I posted the last one very recently :D)

--

dear head of the cullen clan,  keep evening plans open – im getting off work early and we’re going on a picnic.  coldest regards,  the head of the volturi  (ps. am expecting a very wholehearted appreciation for the fact that it’s coldest regards and not warmest regards, because they are, in fact, vampires and therefore cold. because they don’t have a heart and such.)  (extra ps. this is a link to a shared spotify playlist. i’ll add a song and then you add one. we’ll keep it going.) 

you snort. 

dear aro of the volturi (does he have a last name???),  so much to unpack in one email, yet again. you really know how to keep a girl on her toes.  first and foremost, you are SOOOO ran through. so offended that i wasn’t the person who got to put you on to twilight and whoever it was, I HOEP SHE DIES! if you’re team jacob, you’re a freak.  second, SO VERY FLATTERED that you think i would be carlisle. a little haunting that you think YOU would be aro…but it’s ok cuz former companions to enemies back to lovers in our case would be kind of crazy???  third. done and done. i just added a song so hurry up bc i have like ten other songs i want to add and i am #impatient  see u after work pookie :D,  carlisle cullen  (very appreciative of the cold regards. you are a king among men.) 

his response back is very prompt. 

Never call me pookie again.  (very offended that you think i’d be stupid enough to be team jacob. and direct your murderous rage towards yuuji and my mom, who forced me to watch it in theaters with them.) 

--

you wait for sukuna at the park two blocks down the apartment complex. the sun is hours away from dipping into the horizon, the chilly wind rustling through the trees. you realize now that the red skirt and white sweater might betray you in a few hours but decide that you’ll simply have to steal his jacket when he gets here. 

and you would have already but he’s twenty minutes late.

and while this part of the city is extremely safe, sukuna’s ever constant fear of people attacking you on subway trains and stabbing you in alleyways has instilled an acute fear of strangers in you, which is why you’re gripping the sparkly pink pepper spray he bought you very harshly in your palm right now. 

you think it’s sweet that he bought you a pink one. 

but of course it’s severely ironic that you almost used it on him. 

because he scares the living daylights out of you, by placing his hand around your shoulder from behind. 

“hey. i’m sorry i-” 

“jesus fuck-” 

you instinctively hold the pepper spray up to his face, your hands shaking in front of you. 

“i’ll use it, you pervert!” 

sukuna leans his head to the side, which is when you’re finally able to log that it’s actually him standing in front of you and not a stranger, and you drop your hands in embarrassment. 

“i mean, i’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t doll face but–” 

“oh my god, sukuna. i thought you were trying to rob me!” 

“i’m smarter than that. the only thing inside your purse is lip gloss, which has very little value to me.” sukuna responds, dropping the little basket at his feet and taking the little stalk of flowers out of the top handle. 

“i’ll have you know that it’s actually sold out in every store right now. so you could make bank if you sold it.” 

“don’t tempt me. and for your sake, i’ll accept the apology you didn’t give me for just trying to rob me of my eyesight and for calling me a pervert? i’m getting really tired of the age gap jokes, y/n.” sukuna responds, as he lifts your hands at your sides and places the stalk of flowers in your hand. 

you give him a big smile as you press your nose to the flowers, the scent fresh in your nose. and sukuna props down, setting a billowing white blanket on the ground before he taps the spot next to him and signals for you to sit next to him. 

“who needs eyes?” you joke, as you squeeze his hands and set the flowers down next to the little basket. 

“me, dipshit. how else am i supposed to look at you?” 

you cover your hands with your cheeks as you watch him place all of the little things inside the basket next to you, laying them out perfectly. it’s albeit a weird assortment �� two wine glasses, perfectly wrapped sandwiches, a mini-cake, and strawberry lemonade. 

“well, stop perceiving me. this is so weird!” you murmur. 

it’s enough to catch his attention and stop him in his tracks. 

“what?” 

the question makes you pause. and a little embarrassed. it was a little harsh to say while you were joking.

“oh, i mean…i didn’t mean it like that! i was making a joke about perceiving because eyes…vision…and i almost took your vision away! and you perceive with your eyes, because how else would you see…” 

sukuna smiles, before shaking his head, and continuing spilling out the last of the contents – a set of gouache paints and two little small canvases. and he drops to his feet, yanking his shoes off, before sitting flat on the blanket and gesturing for you to join him. 

“there’s no way in hell that was what you meant. but we’ll ignore that for the time being.” sukuna responds, hiking his legs to his chest and gesturing towards the spread he just put out. 

you tilt your head to the side in confusion. 

“you look very pretty today.” sukuna responds. 

“thanks! you too!” 

he narrows his eyes. 

“uh huh. well, pick what we do first. the paint, the sandwiches, or the weird wine glass cake.” 

“the wine glass cake? like from tiktok?” you ask. 

“correct. i’m really bad at…cute dates. so…i did some research.” 

sukuna refuses to look at you. because after admitting it, he’s suddenly busied himself with reading the back of the box of paints, like it’s the most riveting, intriguing thing he’s ever read in his life. 

but the pink flush that’s creeping down his neck betrays him entirely, as you reach forward and push the little box down. and sukuna’s already glaring at you. 

you place your chin on the top of his knees, reaching for one of his hands and smiling. 

“you did research for a date?” 

“you can choke on your spit.” 

you grin. 

“you really know how to turn a girl on.” 

“you’re filthy.” 

you grin. 

“and you’re actually so precious, i–” 

“don’t call me precious, y/n.” he whines, as he reaches forward to flick on your forehead. 

you smile as you sit by his side, tucking the folds of your skirt under your leg as you reach for both of the wine glasses and hand him one. 

“so how humbling was it to have satoru explain all this to you?” you ask. 

he sneers. 

“don’t even ask. he’s like the biggest nuisance i’ve ever met in my life. top ten worst moments of my life.” sukuna responds. 

“i’m flattered you humbled yourself to him for me.” 

“i actually asked suguru. they’re like…two peas in a pod, they can’t do shit without each other. the paints and stuff they gave me and the nice basket too.” 

“that’s sweet of them. remind me to send them something later to thank them.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“no need. they were more than happy to give it up for you.” 

“ah yes. i hear they’re big fans of this camping bag story. the scouts honor and the fake story we had to tell them makes a lot more sense now.” you respond. 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“okay, you know what? sue me. i was like sixteen sleeping next to a girl for the first time. god forbid i enjoyed myself. and i don’t know why they’re all so hyperfixated on that story because it was a very normal thing to assume when you’re asked that question.”  

you snort. 

“and you say you’re not a pervert…” 

sukuna leans forward, his eyes flitting down to his lips before he looks back up at you. and he can tell that you’re in a mood, that you’re trying to push his buttons by annoying him. 

“you know i despise you right?” he whispers. 

you grin, leaning in. 

“is that right?” you whisper back. 

“oh yeah. you irritate me.” 

there isn’t even a shred of earnestness in the words he’s uttering. you know he doesn’t mean them. 

“keep going.” you respond, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your cheek. 

“you’re a nuisance.” – a kiss to your forehead. 

“an irritation.” – a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“like a fucking thorn in my side.” – and a kiss to the sweet spot right in your neck and his hand snaking up your thigh, which makes you nearly keel your head back from the sensation. 

you place your hands on his cheek and pull him back, face flushed and his eyes nearly glazed over. 

“are you crazy?” you whisper. 

“what?” he asks. 

“we’re in public, dumbass. you can’t just start trying to rile me up.” 

sukuna leans back, obliging. 

“so you admit it? i was riling you up?” 

“oh, shut up.” 

you reach for the sandwiches and unpeel one for sukuna. before he takes it, he places a tiny white box in your lap. 

you frown. first the fancy date but the jewelry too? 

“sukuna. you didn’t–” 

“just open it. i’m impatient and i’ve been waiting all day. and i actually think you’ll like it. otherwise, you’re ungrateful and rude and you hate me.” sukuna responds. 

you give him a tight lipped smile before you open the little box and actually smile. 

it’s a dainty silver chain – the exact same as sukuna’s from the chain-links, but the build is a little thinner. and right at the center, a little charm of a star. 

you reach forward for his chain, dangling around his collarbone. and surely enough, in addition to the original charm he had of an interlocked circle, there’s a star charm added right next to it. 

“you always reach for it. when you’re talking or when we’re kissing. figured i’d get you your own since you’re such a big fan.” 

“you are so…” 

“perfect? sexy? the father of your children?” 

“i was thinking adorable. can i answer d for all of the above?” you respond. 

sukuna grins. 

“survey says yes, princess.” he responds. 

you yank the chain from the little box and hand it to him, before turning around for him to secure it on you. his fingers tickle against the nape of your neck, accompanied by a warm kiss, before he taps your shoulders to signify that he’s done. 

“you know. you really are perceiving me right now.” you respond. 

“and how’s that?” 

“i know you’re obsessed with me and pay attention to every word i say.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“obviously.” 

you jab at his side. 

“i mean, i know you’re doing this because i mentioned picnics yesterday and always feeling left out. sure you could put two and two together that he never really bought me any nice gifts or anything when i said he ruined my birthday.” 

“okay, captain obvious. and?” 

you shove him once more, before leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“well, i appreciate it. i know the whole…cutesy painting date isn’t your thing. we won’t have to do it again. and that you…you’re trying to make this whole thing special for me.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“i’m offended. first and foremost, i always like to eat with you. every time i think that there’s no way you can amaze me more, you find another way to spill food on your clothes.” 

“hey! that’s not true.” 

“you already spilled on the blanket. second, this is a very violent way to eat cake. you literally mess up all the layers by doing that and destroy the piping on the cake which i can admit, i am a fan of. and third, i’m going to paint us as worms, which seems enjoyable to me.” 

you curl your nose. 

“worms?” 

“yeah. what were you going to paint?” 

“i don’t know. but it certainly wasn’t going to be worms. like the park or flowers or something.” 

“boring. i’m going to paint us as slimy worms. and because we made it on this date, you’ll have to agree to put it up in the apartment, even if it’s ugly.” 

“sukuna.” you whine. 

“especially if it’s ugly. it’s a testament to our love.” he responds, dramatically placing his hands on  his chest. 

“you know, you’re so right. worms have been a really defining feature of your relationship.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips and an additional one on your cheek. 

“you just get me, princess!” 

and he breaks the little joke by lifting one of your hands to his lips, and pressing a kiss on all four of your knuckles before pressing your hand to his cheek. 

“and i have to do special things for a special person.” 

you return the gesture, lifting his tattooed fingers to your lips and doing the same. 

“you know…you’re really good at this type of thing.” you murmur. 

“what do you mean?” 

“i mean, being a boyfriend. and…and being supportive about everything. sometimes i feel like i’m trying really hard to be the best but…just comes naturally to you.” you respond. 

sukuna shrugs. 

“don’t know if i’m perfect but…loving you has always come really easy to me. i don’t really have to think twice about it because these are actually just things i want to do for you.” 

you groan. 

“see! that’s what i’m saying! you always just…say sweet things, do sweet things. sometimes i’m convinced i’m not even half deserving of it, just because sometimes i don’t reciprocate that back.” you respond. 

sukuna leans forward. 

“you know, you actually do though.” 

“as if.” you groan. 

sukuna pauses, before leaning his cheek against the tops of his knees and looking out at the expanse of grass in front of you. you follow his line of vision – to the dog running in the distance, the wide, billowing trees, and the little flower truck on the side – which you now realize is where sukuna copped the flowers from earlier. 

“i mean, this type of thing. that we have, or…or the way i act around you. it means a lot to you because, you…you’ve never had this before. right?” 

“yeah.” 

“well, i haven’t had you before. i know you see me as perfect, but…but when you say that i can tell that you don’t mean it the way my mom or…or yuuji think that i’m perfect. in the untouchable way.” 

you lean forward, cupping the side of his face. 

“sukuna. you’re so touchable.” you joke. 

“you’re disgusting.” 

“you love it.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“yeah, i really do. it does actually mean the world to me that you think i’m perfect how i am and don’t think i’m larger than life.” 

“if anything, your ego could be smaller.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“and…and even the other day. i know you were acting squirrely and weird when yuuji was near us and heard us bickering, but i was half convinced that you were going to take his side at the end, when he started saying that stuff about me. because it is true and i have acted a certain way in the past…and, you would have every right to agree with him if you wanted to.” 

you frown. 

“no, i wouldn’t. you’ve never treated me like that and i know you’re being earnest when you say these things to me. this would be a very elaborate way to get into my pants if that was what you were trying to do. and i know it’s not.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“that’s what i’m saying. every other person for me has never given me that benefit of the doubt, but you always do. you were the person who thought to tell me that my grandpa died when you all came to get me and you were the one who wasn’t mad at me. the things you do for me are the same, in equal magnitude, as what i do for you. if this makes you feel good, or…or on top of the world, you have to know that’s how you make me feel too. i’m half convinced that you’re basically made for me at this point the way you get everything right on point.” 

you lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his lips. 

“i really think you’re made for me too, ryomen.” 

sukuna groans, dramatically leaning his head back, before nearly pushing you over and peppering kisses to almost every surface on your face. 

“quit fucking saying my name. you have no idea what that does to me.” 

“i mean, i think i have an idea.” 

sukuna clamps his fingers over your mouth, before pressing a few more lingering kisses to your face and pushing off. and subsequently, picks all of the grass out of your hair as you roll your eyes. 

and after that sukuna, admittedly, very aggressively uses the wine glasses to portion off little slices of the cake and makes it a point to finish off yours when you can’t stomach the sweetness. and true to his promise – sukuna paints the two of you as worms, but at the park, stargazing. 

it’s a little silly, the way he paints it. you were expecting it to be more gory or gross, but it’s so corny that it makes you smile. because he draws the two little worms, but distinguishes between the two of you, by swiping some of your pink paint and adding a little ribbon to the one that’s supposed to be you. 

sukuna explains the stars. because before sukuna had dragged you out of that shitty bathroom bar, it’s what megumi and yuuji said in his drunken mess – he had pointed at two little stars and likened them to him and megumi.

and you’re almost positive that at the time, sukuna found it utterly ridiculous. but now, he understood it – the sentiment. that you and sukuna were two little worms, and two stars, and two little flowers too. 

and to his promise, the two of you decide to place the little canvases you drew at the end of the kitchen counter. 

it’s only then that you realize that you have to go the whole ten miles for sukuna the way he had done for you – countless times again. and that if you were going in blind in trying to make something special, you’d have to take a page out of his book and do some research. 

and there was only one person who could really help you, who you’d rather die than humble yourself to than ask for help. 

regardless of that, you still call sammy the next morning.

--

next part linked here

an: they're about to do it. anyways....there is a very real playlist to match the one that they talk about in the fic -- and it matches the way it described in the fic! so it's interleaved, the first song is a song that sukuna would have added, the second one that y/n added, the third sukuna, so on and so forth. it's linked here! happy listening babies

second an: thank you for the love on the last chapter. it makes my heart really warm bc all of that was actually based on a REAL MAN and real things that I have felt/have said to me and just having people comment that they felt seen by it or it made them feel a certain type of way actually made me really happy and so warm. this blog was one of the first things I did after I stopped being really, really sad and i'm glad that i'm able to share a little joy here and there, if that's what this fic is for you. anyways this is long and sappy and gross and actually I just love you all for enduring the ouchies and the sillies with me a little bit 💌

third an: double upload bc yall were so patient with me :D

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot��@itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani79 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

[birdiewriteslit]

OMGGG!!! i saw ur post abt luke requests and im so glad i did bc i have also had a terrible poseidons daughter!reader brainrott

could you write smth about luke and pd!reader sneaking out to go on a date and then getting caught and sassed out by percy?? 🫶

yes ofc! we love persassy here

luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

warnings: just persassy and a make out sesh

for the sake of this fic let’s pretend that curfew and harpies don’t exist at chb

The knock came at 10:30 pm. You were feeling very lucky in that moment that Percy was a heavier sleeper than you. You tiptoed to the door, opening it slowly and as quietly as possible.

The moment you turned to face Luke after closing the door with caution, his lips were on yours. You pulled away before he managed to convince you to continue right there in front of your cabin.

“Luke!” you whisper shouted. “You can’t do that here.”

He grinned, bringing both hands to your waist, squeezing once. “What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend?”

“Your secret girlfriend, and no, not until we’re at least fifty feet away from the cabins,” you reminded him.

“Stop pretending you don’t want to,” he said, teasing.

He was right, you were pretending. You were flustered by the kiss, and he could tell. You kind of hated how good he was at knowing and how he was even better at making it worse.

“Let’s just go,” you said, not looking at him as you grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the beach.

You eventually made there, getting stopped by Luke’s advances on you every once in a while. He settled next to you on the sand, and tugged at the string on your hoodie. “Can we make out now?”

You gave him a look, one that he knew didn’t actually mean no, even though you tried to make it look like you were serious. “Damn, give me a second. Why’re you so desperate tonight?”

“Because I love you,” he said plainly, swinging an arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss your cheek. “And I haven’t seen you all day. Is it a crime to miss you?”

You rolled your eyes even though you were blushing. “Stop being so sweet.”

“Stop being so beautiful,” he countered, wasting no time in dropping his head down to meet your lips. You brought your hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks and deepening the kiss.

He shifted your legs over his lap with his free arm, the other one pulling you even closer, his fingertips grazing over your hair.

You let your fingers tangle themselves in his curls, slightly tugging at them. He let out small noise, curling his hand around your neck and running his thumb along your jaw. “Oh, Luke,” you moaned into his mouth.

“So, I’m guessing this isn’t the way to the bathrooms?”

Your brother’s voice made you spring away from Luke, pushing him back with your palm on his chest.

Your face was burning as you made a large effort to not make eye contact with Luke. “Percy, you know where the bathrooms are.”

“That’s beside the point. What are you doing with this freak of nature?” he asked, quite seriously, as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Freak of nature?” Luke protested, but Percy held up one hand to silence him.

“Didn’t ask for your input.” He gave Luke a dirty look before turning to you. “Are you going to explain yourself? Hm?”

“We’ve been seeing each other,” you said, looking cautiously over at Luke. “For a while now.”

“A while? You’ve been settling for this pervert for a while?”

“Settling isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Pervert isn’t either,” Luke added unhelpfully.

“Well, judging by what I just walked in on, it’s the one I would use,” Percy said. “Come on, Y/n, let’s go to bed, which is where we’re supposed to be because it’s nighttime.”

“But-“

“No buts! Let’s go.” He turned on his heel and started to walk away.

“And here I was, thinking he liked me,” Luke said despairingly.

You stood, wiping sand off of your pants. “He’ll come around,” you reasoned.

“Please, give me one more kiss before I have to say goodbye forever,” he said dramatically, taking your hand and rising to his knees.

You giggled. “You’re so weird.” But you still indulged him, leaning down to press your lips to his.

“Stop doing that!” Percy shouted in the distance.

[rockwgooglyeyes]

Really, what CURE highlights is Ivan's sense of self- or lack thereof.

"you can break me apart"

"to quiet my fears, I'll drown in you"

"consume me, yes, me"

Maybe this is why, overall, I think Ivan wrote the lyrics more than I believe Till did. While we know Till to be a producer and lyricist, the content of the lyrics themselves are really what put that final nail in the coffin for me. I don't really believe that Till would have a desire for Mizi to hurt him, even in a romantic way. His affection for her seems far more pure than that, something where violence and injury are absent, something happy and bright where there are no worries. Mizi might be Till's reason to believe in the world and the future, as she shows him a possibility of goodness and happiness, but she doesn't seem to distract him from his own fears. In fact, his admiration of her from afar is a behavior that's an extension of his fears and insecurities, stemming from his superiority complex where people don't like him, it's because he's better than them and they know it. But not only that, adding onto that superiority complex, Till has a fear of vulnerability (or he just doesn't want to be perceived as weak) due to his traumas and I don't think that he would want Mizi to "break him apart." Then again I might be splitting hairs and I might be wrong. These are just my thoughts at the moment

Back to Ivan, though. He's . . . *sighs* his sense of self worth is pretty much nonexistent. He thinks very poorly of himself, he's part of the crowd who call him a freak and a pervert and a monster. He believes himself to be something wretched and broken, in need of fixing and yet, unfixable. He's just as afraid of vulnerability as Till is, ironically, but it's for a different reason- Ivan is afraid of laying it all bare and having someone confirm his suspicions that there's something irrevocably wrong with him. He's not insecure in the same way Till is, because he believes wholeheartedly that he's fucked up and that he's unlovable and that's how he got here. It's not Till who *needs* to love him back, or anything like that, it's Ivan that's the problem.

That's why "consume me" and "you can break me apart" and "to quiet my fears, I'll drown in you" are so utterly Ivan. Ivan would be happy to be consumed by someone he loved because that way, he's useful. He's sustaining them. He would be happy to be broken apart by someone he loves because that way, they can get their anger out on someone without any consequences, because he doesn't mind, he's happy to be the meat on their chopping block. He will use a person he loves as a distraction from his own doubts and fears because, hey, he already knows what's wrong with him but there are so many wonderful people around him, who he can help support. His problems aren't what's important because he doesn't have problems, not real ones, anyways. He can't compare to any of his friends, he has a guardian who doesn't actively physically abuse him, and he's famous. What more could he ask for?

Also I think the "sick of these nights to come" is in reference to the possibility of Ivan winning and being forced to live in a world without Till, a comparatively quiet universe. Anyayws. starred crossed doomed yaoi my belvoed. if anyone calls them toxic i will have questions because i want to know your reasoning and if i can dispute it because maybe im wrong!

[lakesbian]

should comment on the first (<- optimistically hoping there will be more) lamb interludes too

i like ashton so far i think it's fun to add another more Noticeably Alien Freak lamb. kindof autistic to be a fucked up biohorror lab experiment that doesn't know how to imitate people yet and consequently has no volume control & errs on the side of speaking too softly instead when you think about it.

the effect of him constantly vividly imagining peoples heads exploding for fun may be somewhat lost on me because i'm like well he's not hurting anyone so good for him.

the nonhuman visual perception was fun to read about i liked that

it has sadly occurred to me while writing this that the next time we see him it's gonna be timeskipped so far ahead that he'll be a Normal Boy and i won't get to enjoy the development phase, which seems like it should be the appeal of adding a new little vat boy to the team

his interlude segment portrays jamie 2 as a bit of an older sister. this is a win for me.

helen thoughts:

best interlude so far hands down because helen is special. one of the best Scenes At All Ever so far hands down because helen is special. it is so EXTREMELY effective to show her away from the lambs for the first time and have her casually remind that the personality she's been displaying for most of the book is an entirely calculated act for the lambs' benefit, and even the glimpses beneath it they've been getting had a heavy dosage of acting involved in the presentation. utter fucking Crocodile of a girl. it's so good

it's also extremely fucking funny for helen to be told to stop acting and respond by standing up and going "i want to gore that guy over there. Sexually."

specifically a big fan of how it's explicitly belabored that she stands up during the interrogation because she's no longer acting. like, the idea that even the most basic level of expected human behavior that would seem common sense exists only because of an act, and immediately ceases if the act does, replaced entirely by some reptilian Thing who stands up and states desire to crawl murderously into someone's mouth--that's really fucking good. and then the act goes back up and helen the Thing remains lying there underneath.

not directly from the interlude but i thought it was cute when sy explained to her that she was possibly feeling loneliness. if i was mary i would treat helen right...reptilegirls need hugs too...i would let her cuddle with me at night like a weird cat...

gordon:

i like him but he's very simple and overshadowed compared to more special individuals like helen. i'm sorry gordon

i do think it's SO fucking funny that he unironically mentally gets worried and compares him thinking mary is hot to helen talking about wanting to crawl into peoples skin and shit. teenager experiencing normal levels of teenager feelings and being like oh NO im some sort of weird intense freak pervert of the earth. like no man youre just a teenager youre gonna be okay buddy. well, you're not going to be okay, but that's for reasons unrelated to being attracted to women. that part is normal and fine.

it's nice to have confirmation that gordon is mind beaming "holy shit please shut the fuck up" at sy just as often as sy is mind beaming it at him. not that we needed it to know, given that sy receives the mind beams 95% of the time minimum (and elects to ignore them almost as often)

i like the bit abt him being a segmented stitched-together person made from composite parts & his feelings also being sort of metaphorically processed as composite parts he can pick and choose from to engage with. griffon boy...

we should kill the duke

we should kill the baron

we should kill the duke and the baron

mary: unfortunately theres not so much to say about this one because she spent 65% of it vividly imagining how she could murder people. love you mary

lillian:

it was fun to see how sy looks from someone else's perspective and then find out what the fuck he was actually doing next chapter. and like just in general fun and convincing to see how she reads him without being privy to the one million insane things he's thinking at any given second

i have to confess i was bad at actually thinking a lot about lillian during this one. one of my main thoughts was "oh good we finally have more detailed description of how sy looks." wildbow novels are cool because you have to wait until one fucktillion words in to find out that a character has long eyelashes. adding that to my list of mental notes for drawing sy

detailed descriptions of how sy kisses lillian (extremely real and true and in character for him by the way you know he was doing a death note monologue in his head about his methodology) made me remember that im going to have to read the lesbian sex scene that fails the bechdel test at some point because mary tries to imitate it and then i went 🙁and had to try to stop thinking about that.

[ebi-noodle-doodles]

I think that last anon was incredibly rude and very, very suspicious. I'm also a fat person, and I think your art is just fine the way it is.

This anon accuses you of having a fat fetish for using peach to shade, doesn't give you the name of the artist they think you're emulating, and then tell you (not asking politely, on your own blog where they are a guest, TELL) you to put body hair on Miku.

Not to mention, why are they recognizing a style from a fat fetish artist if they aren't on the fat fetish side of twitter themselves, enough to have picked up on this supposed artist's style, down to the shading?

Sure, Twitter is wild, you'll see plenty of things you aren't necessarily looking for, but this reads as someone who is trying very hard not to let you see them sweating. What are they doing at the devil's sacrament, pointing out all of the sinners there, tactfully not pointing at themselves as one of the people included amongst the crowd.

If they didn't say "teehee I'm a fat girl btw <33 nasty nasty fetishists <33" at the end, wouldn't you think this message is situationally inappropriate? This is the internet, this person is anonymous, and that means they can lie if they feel like it.

You shouldn't even believe me or care when I say I'm fat, because I too am anonymous, and you simply can't fact check me. Even off anon, I don't share pictures of myself online, because I know better than to trust the internet at large.

If they are not outright malicious

(people will do this when they themselves fetishize fat women for the sake of getting art they think is hot; kind of like people saying "fat women can't be sexy" so fat women will post suggestive pictures of themselves to prove the statement incorrect, especially so they can pick and choose through which images they like. This is Creep Behavior, to use negging to manipulate people into sharing racey pictures)

then they are outright very, very rude, despite their friendly tone. This is YOUR blog, your art is fantastic, and nobody should be coming into your house, telling you how to run things.

Personally, I think the shapes and textures you draw are aesthetically pleasing, and your color choices always go together very nicely, especially when pink and green can clash really bad if you're not careful. Please don't let some misguided person (or worse, a creep) tell you what to do. You've gotten as far as you have on your own just fine, because you're doing your own thing.

In your response to anon, you said

"I find it weird that when a “normal” character is posed something suggestive its just a drawing but when added a bit weight it becomes a “fetish” ????"

(https://www.tumblr.com/ebi-noodle-doodles/739308628074496000/im-really-not-trying-to-be-rude-but-your-pure)

and I could not agree with you more.

Why is it a fetish that Miku is fat? I look an awful lot like her, and it's nice to be represented in art, suggestive or otherwise. Why is this person coming at you like you're a freak pervert that needs to be corrected, when you're just drawing a character?

Why is fat considered inherently unattractive, the only people allowed to enjoy it being (implied) nasty, disgusting, morally deficit fetishists, when "normal" or "skinny" body types are left alone? Why are we treating body fat as morally reprehensible, and not just a thing people sometimes have?

If this person really is fat, they have a lot of internalized fatphobia to let go of, and if they're a fetishist they need to learn better manners.

And thank you, for being generous enough to share your art with the world. Sorry for the lengthy message as well. Your Miku is very cute, and I look forwards to seeing more of your art in the future :]

- 🐺🕷️ (Wolf Spider Anon)

Ive been self debating and doubting if what I’m doing is bad or that Ive done something wrong especially on illustrating her in a suggestive manner

Thank you for understanding my view. The reply timing is off as I’m still trying to understand myself if my coloring it self was wrong… are my poses off? Is it rude to draw her like this? I didnt take the anon’s comment as rude but i did feel some guilt that i feel i shouldnt have? Man i dont understand I’m dumb when it comes to these sort of stuff. I just answered truthfully on thoughts about that. All I know is I enjoy painting her, suggestively, happy, innocently or cute! I just like drawing her. Youll see more of her in blog hopefully :D

[soul-mates-podcast]

Okay surgery recovery tier list. I added the rest of the Limbus characters, sorry if the Mahjong Soul characters rankings are dumb and stupid I don't know a lot about them (Except Kallen why didn't I know you did a Kallen episode I'm so mad I haven't watched that).

Explanations from bottom up:

Sinclair dies obviously, will be extremely embarrassed when Dante brings him back. Miyu tiny small child will make it with help of her tiny small child friends, but will have a bad time. Anju is same as Miyu but even worse cause Chunibyo. Yi Sang will be sick constantly and will be musing on pain and death for the entire duration and will fuck up his post op-med routine, but he will make it for no other reason than his desire to experience the whole thing. Kuyo is similar to Miyu, but weird demon thing will make it slightly easier. Shirogane is a fairly heathy young man, but maintaining his strange love denial thing will get in the way of his recovery a lot. Hana is just a girl, she will be fine but it will suck. Faust fairs a bit better than Yi Sang because of the network telling her the best way to recover and is generally emotionless, but it will slow her down a lot. Lin would heal fast as a dragon, but they would have to do strange stuff during the surgery to get around the dragon thing and she would NOT take her medicine. Hannah would be top of B, but her anthro nature messes up her post op-meds and it will be unpleasant for her. Fu and Kaguyahime are just normal women, they're just innocent women. Iwao is old but will have adrenochrome and infant blood pumped into his veins until he gets better, will have a longer initial hospital stay but will still recover normally. Joe "Ron" Mike Wazowski's Dad is a strong healthy man but probably doesn't deal with chronic pain well. He will recover at a normal pace but will need to take an extend leave from television. Gregor is a war vet and has had drastic surgery before but he does have weird bug blood in the bug arm and is not in his prim (which was not much better in the first place). Also he chain smokes which is going to slow things down. Outis is a war vet, very healthy and will follow her med routine down to the dot, not quite enough for A due to age though. Lily and Nanaha both have great blood flow as tall heathy women, pain will be a little bit easier to bare as they are good at putting up a face, will heal a bit faster than other people. Rodion will curse under her breath about it a lot, will bring up that she needs to recover a lot, but she would still heal fairly quickly and can power through a lot if she really needs to. Hong Lu is a strange pervert about everything and is really tough for some reason? Kallen is canonically recovers quickly and is quite tough in general. Heathcliff will bitch more than the other s tiers, but he will be just fine and can still do things fine. meursault Ryoshu actively enjoys pain and is a Ring experiment freak, will recover in no time. Ishmael is self explanatory, literally can't die nor feel pain when she doesn't feel like it and is generally pretty stoic. I can't say anything about Don Quixote without spoilers, but I have no idea where to put her.

meursault

thank you for your participation in this important experiment. you're going to be so embarrassed listening to our kallen episode, i forget literally everything about her im sorry i havent watched code geass in YEARS

[prettyflyshyguy]

Alright for the freaks who are oldschool Supernatural tumblr people, or just normal supernatural people, and for the rest who are just like me and don't know shit: I'm dumping all my garbo takes under the cut.

Mostly gonna be me either being really enamored or really upset.

No in-between. These things are either great or the worst. My tastes are specific and I'm picky with vampire fiction and rarely do I find media that ticks the boxes yet, I still watch almost anything I can find obsessively.

Who knows maybe this'll become a new casual TV series if I like the dynamics. Anyway, long post warning under the cut.

They got Bela Lugosi's Dead playing in a room full of nu-metal heads LMFAO

truly the alt communities have always been done so dirty in media

least they did their research on song choices

-

jesus christ

flashbacks to my steampunk phase circa 2011

-

I LOVE that this woman looks so normie and looks so delighted when she meets this equally normie looking dude in an alternative bar (i want to go there the people seem chill and the vibes are impeccable)

anyway who is this guy he seems familiar

love that they made the most normal dude in the bar the real monster good on them :)

christ they just took one look at twilight and went yeah lets TV parody this shit just for a laugh didnt they

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SHE'S 17

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO(DID SHE HAVE A FAKE ID I WASNT PAYING ATTENTION)

OK ok ok you get big bonus points just for this bit. Just for this bit.

Thank you supernatural go off

-

"I'm just scared I'm dreaming and I'll wake up in math class" girl me too

im sorry this woman looks so much older than 17

POINTS DEDUCTED

POINTS DEDUCTED

BAD TEETH

great eyes, horrendous teeth. very dissapointed. I'm only here for the fucked up canines because we already HAVE them and whats better than perverting the existing human form into something subtly wrong

-

This show has such an aggressive title screen compared to buffy and the x files LMAO

-

ok i can get behind the chevvy, the chevvy is nice

-

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

POINTS ADDED - holy shit points added for this cheesy poster alone really capturing the schtick of the late 2000s

ok i get it, i get it guys, they're fun, they're funny, they've got a great sibling energy, the periodic 'screaming' happening in the background of this scene is sending me

-

this has been too fun so far i feel like somethings gonna ruin it

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ok this is so self aware yet the degree they're committing is just.

its marvelous. this is peak. I'm into it.

there are so many ads please i want to see dean have a bad day

Holy shit is that Skinner from the x files i love that guy

-

the fashion. iconic. if anything I'll be coming back to this for inspiration for myself.

-

the way Dean just slammed that guy on the car yelling "OPEN YOUR MOUTH"

yeah instant favourite.

you've rounded a corner, a dude has just beat the shit out of your brother and now he's about to force feed him blood and your response is: stand there staring like the shocked pikachu

oh so you wait till after he's done to scream "no!" in a half hearted tone

is there something I'm missing here, i know Sam gets a bit cooked at some point (does he get possessed??? idk) so I'm gonna assume thats whats going on

this is the best 'turning' scene I've ever had the pleasure of witnessing in all my years of trawling through vampire media

holy shit the team that wrote this episode fucking get it

the audio design, the acting, is so on point

Supernatural Crew you cooked so hard and I'm deeply thanking you for it

this was fucking made for me what the fuck what the fruck what the fuck what the fuc

Nooooo dont have an emotional breakdown in the bathroom looking at your fangs, but you're so sexy aha

The constant heartbeats anytime Deans in a room with someone got me grinning like :]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

ok points deducted, again, for bad teeth but my god

the "I gotta go-" scene GOOD SHIT GOOD SHIT

someone get this kicked puppy a sippy cup

a red fanta chug jug

where is his sippy cup

look i know its probably not fun, at all, to drink red mystery meat juice on set but its gotta be cheaper than CGI teeth. Please.

Please let more relunctant vampires reluctantly chug jug (with you)

Oh Never Mind they wrote it in that he can't drink or he's stuck >:(

im still having a good time, just a bit less of a good time

YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

-

using a large serrated knife to cut appart a horde of vampires seems like a great idea and getting covered in blood you're not supposed to drink is inevitable

but watch out

Sam: thats a pretty mentally stable thing to do

I REALLY WANT TO

CHUG JUG WITH YOU

ok this scene of him makes up for the lack of authentic blood chug jug I'll take what I can get

-

Ok final thoughts: that was a solid 7 and a half out of 10

thank you Supernatural you hit almost all the high notes when most stuff falls flat for me. Still, you came soooooooooo close. And got so far. And Yet in the end it doesnt even matter.

Still, this one's going straight to the pool room, and I can comfortably say I'm throwing it on the shelf of 'comfort media' that I can go back to on a bad day.

This had some fucking BANGER scenes that surpassed my expectations and deeply pleasantly surprised me. Good shit! As someone who is hard to please, this was a riot. Still; a shame they arbritrarily rules-d him taking a chunk out of someone. Would have been sick. Could have had the great slow build up of the initial turning scene - him and the love interest, holding back - then him cracking it after holding out and snapping.

It is not too much to ask, I swear. It's a good trope.

Do I dare take the risk of trawling through fanfiction to find another horribly specific weirdo like me, because Supernatural seems huge and a scary place to fanfic trawl.

[mathematical-apprentice]

I'M LOSING MY FREAKING MIND. WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS THIS AD, DISGUSTING SHOW OF CAPITALIST IDEALS. PERVERTING THE STRUGGLE OF WOMEN IN STEM TO SELL THEIR GAME. THEY SHOULD BURN IN HELL FOR THIS

WHAT DOES MONOPOLY, GODDAMNED MONOPOLY, HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING THESE GIRLS HAVE BEEN SAYING??!?!?? SHNSBRYFNYREA;LRKFY SE.

IM HONESTLY SO PISSED BY THIS AD, YOU CAN'T EVEN IMAGINE. MONOPOLY SHOULD GO AND PARK ONE SIDE, IM NEVER PLAYING THAT GAME AGAIN

LIKE MISS MONOPOLY? MS. MONOPOLY?!? WHAT IS EVEN THAT?

YOU SPEND YOUR TIME IN THE GAME STEALING THE PATENTS OF ALL THE OTHER LITTLE GIRLS IN GAME UNTIL YOU ASE THE ONLY ONE LEFT?

FORGET LAND MONOPOLY, IT'S ABOUT TIME WE HAD INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY MONOPOLY! WE WILL COVER BLATANT STEALING BEHIND THE VENEER OF WOMEN EMPOWERMENT AND YOU CANNOT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT.

MNCs BLATANT DISREGARD AND LACK OF CARE FOR THEIR CUSTOMERS IS JUST APPALLING, I FEEL SICK TO MY STOMACH WHENEVER I CONSIDER IT

[x]

[neige-leblanche]

kinda stupid vent post, gonna try not to let it show up in any searches but sorry if it does, also mentions of ñsfw so i'd prefer minors didn't read

i just found out the frontman of the o/rion experience flirted with a bunch of minors & besides obviously being upset bc i'd loved their music, i had their song sugar on my r/ookneige playlist which . with the added context some of the lyrics are INCREDIBLY uncomfortable. & like. i do like r/ookneige in part bc r/ook is almost uncannily worldly whereas n/eige is sweet & a little stupid. and i was reminded of a time i read a ñsfw fanfic that i loved in part bc it involved a lot of doting & praising and then when i went to the author's profile to see their other fics was immediately smacked with adult/minor fic (sh/eith specifically, not like a 16 & 18y/o). which was just like. chilling bc the signs were there in the fic that i *did* like. and both of these experiences just make me feel like. am i disgusting in that way?????? i would never support fooling around with teenagers like that & i feel shocked and disgusted as anyone else when i hear about it. but like,, im terrified im just naturally predisposed to be gross like that & everything i enjoy is just a sign pointing towards the fact.

i don't wanna put anything in the tags bc that would be visible without the readmore so im gonna spitball a little in the next paragraph but u dont have to read it

and like. im on the asexual spectrum so this isnt entirely relevant to me. and also ive been in online kink spaces that v much stress the safe sane & consensual thing so i think of myself as someone w a fair enough grasp of that & sex-positivity in general. but stuff like this never fails to freak me out bc as clear as the line between Pervert (affectionate) & Pervert (derogatory) can be, im always gonna be scared of being the latter . or like. somebody seeing me as the latter whose values r different than mine (which ig is bound to happen to anyone talking outright abt ñsfw & kink since views vary so much; nobodys harrassed me yet bc i do try to be clear & respectful always; hopefully can keep that up🙏) but yeah. these situations always end up with Me feeling dirty too not just disgusted @ something external and i guess im just. terrified of the day when i realize im an awful person who's been disgusting everyone i've come into contact with & when no amount of sex positivity can save me . and idk if everybody has these fears or not. or like. the evidence backing up said fears

[aduh0308]

dont ask how i just read this in 10 minutes ashlee you fucking angel sent from above, i dont understand how you do it actually, this is so fucking insane im literally going crazy

the way i forgot about this entirely this past week (not before tho.. popped into my head at least twice a month thats how much of an affect it has on me bc UR SO GOOD SO FUCKING CREATIVE HOLY SHITTTT) and then liv put me back on it (shout out to you fr @liverspaghett ) and im so genuine when i tell you ive never been the same since i read this for the first time, and i fear after reading it the second time im too far gone

the writing, the dialogue... listening to audios is already so perverted but honestly i do that, once i was next to my mom on the couch listening to a sub yj audio and i swear i thought my audio disoneccted i had a whole ahh jumpscare-- but youre so good at developing the characters, having him work in a funeral home is like such a perfect detail.. adding in the other members so subtly too dhjfbdehfi (tyuns "thats nepotism" is so me i be saying that all the time)

beomgyu has such a good voice for dirty talking, like i was reading this picturing when his voice drops like half an octave when hes speaking satoori... and the way i had to choke back my screams, my dad walked in when i was halfway through and the way i yelled at him im not kidding you

i would freak the fuck out if a sexy ahh voice suddenly popped into my head reader is so real for that, but also i fear i wouldnt be able to keep quiet... singing your praises bc the degradation/praise mixture IS LEGIT WHAT I NEED this beomgyu could fix me 🙏

PULLING MY HAIR OUT THE END I MAY NEED A PART TWO BC THE END GETS ME EVERY TIME... reader acting so cute and innocent and gyu just "who else could it be?” SHUT UP AND THE LIP BITE im also picturing his frat boy smirk here bc why not I WILL LITERALLY PASS AWAY YOURE FUCKING INSANE I LOVE YOU AND YOUR BIG FAT BEAUTIFUL BRAIN

telepathy (m) — cbg

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: smut, strangers to ???, mind reader/telepathist!beomgyu, funeral home employee!beomgyu (it's for the plot ok???)

wc: 11.7k

synopsis: most people would abhor a packed subway car — but beomgyu, telepathist extraordinaire, relishes in it. with a career in the funeral business, he finds his morning commute to be the only thing that keeps him relatively sane. reading the mundane thoughts of mundane people maintains his tether to his humanity, but when he goes to read your mind...oh, things get a whole lot more interesting.

warnings: mdni!! 18+ only, ageless blogs dni!!!, mentions of dead bodies, embalming, and funerals (though not very descriptive — it's only bc of gyu's profession), reader is a freak that listens to nsfw audios on her way to work!, gyu is a perv so it's a match made in heaven (hell?), gyu's honestly a little strange + obsessive in this...anyways, dom!gyu, sub!mc, solo male masturbation, on my big cock beomgyu agenda, very brief mentions of daddy/sir/master kinks, explicit consent is given before anything happens bc consent is sexy <3, mind manipulation (he makes it feel like he's touching her), exhibitionism in a way (it will all make sense, trust 🙏), degradation, praise, pseudo-fingering (idk how to explain it, f receiving), gyu calls mc: pretty girl, sweetheart, slut, whore, princess, mc calls gyu sir like once...whew! that was a lot, lmk if i should add anything!

note: you know i have a terrible bout of brainrot when the warnings are all nsfw related...yeah. Yeah. *presses post and runs away*

☆ playlist ☆

masterlist

beomgyu’s commute to work is, by all means, uneventful. 

the train is packed as per usual, filled to the brim with businessmen and office workers and other miscellaneous passengers on their way to whatever the hell their destination is. like most days, he finds himself towards the middle of the passenger car, snatching a rare open seat between a stone-faced man adorned in a suit — his head buried in a newspaper — and a slumped over college student nursing a cup of coffee. the poor kid almost looks like death itself, sporting dark under eyes, rumpled clothes, and a prominent slouch to his spine. not that beomgyu could really blame him; he remembers how easily college living (if you could call it living) can chip away at a person’s mental well-being. 

people-watching like this is what keeps him sane, he thinks. being surrounded by corpses all day, every day is more than draining — it sucks the soul out of him, really, being the only person on shift most of the time that he’s working, having to embalm and clean and pretty up all those cold, gray bodies so that their loved ones can say one last goodbye. it’s quiet in their minds and it’s all too quiet in the funeral home, the only sounds being the clanking of the embalming tools he’s been trained to use, his footsteps echoing down the tiled halls, his sighs of contempt when something small goes wrong — yet the living, breathing, warm people on the train provide a sense of normalcy, something to look forward to every day. to hear their thoughts, as prosaic as they are, has become a sort of saving grace from the lifeless, cold building that he finds himself in five out of the seven days of the week. honestly, if he can maintain a little bit of his humanity via strangers among the subway, even if it’s just by hearing their thoughts, then he’ll take what he can get. 

yeah, that’s the thing: beomgyu is a mind-reader, a pretty talented one at that. not that anyone knew, of course — he wouldn’t risk the government finding out. beomgyu is not usually one for promises, but he has promised himself one thing: there’s no way in hell that he will ever become one of the government’s sick little science experiments, even if his life ever hits rock bottom. he has no idea how his powers work — just that they do, and he would like to keep it that way. it’s bad enough that he doesn’t know where he got such abilities; his parents never mentioned anything about it and only ever grew worried whenever he read back their thoughts to them, so obviously the existence of his powers is some statistical anomaly in the universe. normal people can’t read others’ minds. he was forced to learn that at a very young age in order to keep himself safe. 

“how do you know that?” he remembers his mother’s alarmed tone when he first did it unknowingly, repeating back her own thoughts to her without realizing that’s what he had done. he was maybe six at the time — innocent, curious, plagued by voices in his head that he didn’t quite understand. those voices weren’t his. rather, they were his friends’, his family’s, his dentist’s and his doctor’s and his soccer coach’s voices that ricocheted about his mind uncontrollably;it was overwhelming for the young boy’s mind. the day he first admitted that he could hear them was the first day he heard his parents argue, their yelling from downstairs colliding with their internal voices in beomgyu’s mind, their terribly poignant concern for him and this development louder than any of the venomous words that they spat at each other in the living room. all he remembers from that day was himself crying, unable to block out anything that they thought, let alone his own thoughts. too much for his young mind to handle.

he heard their fear when they took him to the doctor for the first time of many, their heartache when the doctor came back and said that he might have psychosis, but more testing was needed. he heard how they started to deny it — their little boy couldn’t have that, could he? no, no he couldn’t. there’s no way he could. 

although beomgyu was young at the time, guilt ate at him. he was the one hurting his parents, he was the one making them worry. despite his official diagnosis when he was seven, something inside him knew that the doctors were wrong. those voices weren’t just the result of the machinations of his mind at work — they were voices of the people he knew, strangers who passed him on the street. what they said wasn’t evil, it wasn’t out of the ordinary. usually, it was quite mundane. at some point, he started to practice with it, trying focus on one certain voice out of the buzzing hive in his mind, blocking out the others, switching and focusing and blocking out until the action was as natural as breathing. it took him about five years before he reached that point, and after nearly two decades of living with his abilities, he’s gotten quite used to it. his mind is usually quiet — besides his own stream of consciousness — unless he allows others in. or, rather, they allow him in, which they always do. he sees it like a set of doors; open one, and you can hear that one person’s thoughts. close it, and he no longer hears them. and none of them are ever locked since no one expects to their thoughts to be read, which simply makes his life that much easier.

if he’s being honest, he didn’t used to read minds as often as he does now, but there isn’t much he can do about that now lest he go insane. beomgyu could admit that his habit was a little creepy…okay scratch that, extremely fucking creepy. these people had no idea that their minds were being infiltrated, their mental walls bypassed and their privacy violated like a computer infected with a malicious virus. it’s borderline depraved, how nonchalantly he robs these strangers of their utmost privacy, sometimes of their deepest, darkest secrets that they would never want anyone to find out about. he could sequester quite a bit of money out of some of these people, now that he thinks about it.

and sure, that may sound immoral, but beomgyu has never considered himself to be of particularly virtuous character.

without a second thought, beomgyu taps into the mind of the kid next to him. he’s thinking about how he’s failing his statistics class because he just bombed his midterm. no, now his mind is full of what he’s going to eat after his 8 a.m. class. he shifts his focus on the businessman to his right. stocks, his cheating wife, how he’s considering leaving with his mistress in the coming days…

”what a prick,” beomgyu thinks to himself, smirking a bit. just a few more stops until he gets off, now. 

he pulls his phone from his jacket pocket, scrolling aimlessly just to keep his eyes busy. sitting on the opposite side of the college student, an elderly lady walks herself through the stew that she’s going to make for her grandchildren tonight, excitement coloring her words. it’s cute — he loves hearing things like that. wholesome thoughts are not easy to come by nowadays, given the state of the world. exhibit a: a teenager standing on the other side of the train car worries himself into a frenzy over whether the girl that he has a crush on likes him back. exhibit b: a middle aged man contemplates if he should quit his job. for a second, beomgyu thinks that he might be in the same boat as him, before realizing that he has nothing else to fall back on — exhibit c. he could keep going.

a clear, robotic voice overhead announces the subway’s arrival to the next station — his station. sighing, he sits up a little taller, slipping his phone into the pocket of his slacks. a vague sense of dread weighs down his shoulders, knowing that he has a service to set up for the moment he clocks in.

he’s not looking forward to today, and yet the train still slows to a stop, the doors still slide open, and he still grabs his work briefcase from the spot between his feet. like clockwork, beomgyu maneuvers through the crowd, out the doors, and climbs the stairs up to the chilly streets of seoul.

decompressing after a slow-moving shift can take beomgyu’s night in many directions. sometimes, he simply returns home and hops into bed after a long, scalding hot shower that removes the invisible layer of grime that lays heavy on his skin. other times — typically on fridays — he’ll stop by a bar and catch up with his friends, occasionally leaving with a woman hanging off of his arm if he drinks enough to lower his inhibitions. more often than not, however, his excursions at the underground bar that taehyun is partial to end in him stumbling home alone and waking up the next morning with a raging headache. nursing a hangover alone, eating breakfast alone, bathing alone…he has never really become acclimated to it. the monster that festers inside beomgyu’s chest craves for love, for connection, for somebody to hold when the nights are too dark and his thoughts match the shade of the sky. the lack of connection is slowly getting to him. is this what insanity feels like? he wouldn’t know, nor would he like to find out. he’s sane. he’s perfectly sane. 

beomgyu understands that his profession can be off-putting to potential lovers, but it’s not as if he had much of a choice in the matter — not when his one shot at the career of his dreams crumbled below his feet when the company filed bankruptcy, sending him tumbling back down to earth, to the reality that his college degree meant little to nothing to the vast majority of employers nowadays. though he applied to dozens of jobs, the only one he ever heard back from was from the listing titled “mortuary assistant,” and in desperation, he accepted the position without much thought. maybe if he had tried a little harder to find a different company where he could apply his skills, maybe if he had pushed himself to make connections in the industry when he had the resources to do so, maybe if he had pursued music production a little harder, had not given up so readily when things grew difficult…maybe things would be different. 

beomgyu often thinks about the maybes.

this particular night, he finds himself leaned over a bar counter, a glass of amber-hued beer in hand. he half-listens to yeonjun’s slurred account of his dance crew’s latest win while he stares down at the mahogany tabletop. some condensation has gathered on the wood, and he swipes a finger through it. a slap to his shoulder brings his focus back to his surroundings.

“gyu, dude, y’should totally try out,’’ yeonjun pitches as he sloppily swings an arm over beomgyu’s shoulders. “get out of that. that—” he stumbles over his words for a moment, expression warping into a confused grimace. “that gross ass dead people building.”

beomgyu exhales a laugh as yeonjun’s head lolls against his shoulder, quietly whining about how his head hurts. while yeonjun is substantially gone already, beomgyu is only on his second beer. scanning the spacious, dim-lit room, he shakes his head. it’s times like these where he does not feel the need to slip into people’s minds — being surrounded by his friends is enough. “nah, man. i don’t think i could keep up. it’s been a while.”

“sure y’could! you’re like th’second best dancer here!” yeonjun says as his torso slumps down against the table. the bartender eyes him from further down the bar top with concern, but beomgyu sates the employee with an apologetic smile, ensuring that he turns away before setting his attention back on his friend.

beomgyu scoffs. “and i’m assuming you’re the first best?”

“uh, obviously. i literally run th’thing,” yeonjun retorts as he glares at him with a single eye open, an ear now resting on top of his crossed arms on the counter.

“yeonjun’s right,” taehyun butts in from the other side of yeonjun’s collapsed body. though his glazed over eyes give away his inebriated state, taehyun’s tolerance tends to lean much higher than yeonjun’s; this fact is confirmed by the crystal clear enunciation of his words as he continues, “you’ve been acting differently ever since you started working there. it wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

great, even his friends have noticed. exhaling deeply, beomgyu nods.

“yeah, i’ll think about it.” 

as the conversation meanders off into other topics, beomgyu sinks back into his own little world. curse taehyun and his acute perceptiveness. he knows that he’s been acting off, but maybe his friends are right; he once dreamed of being a choreographer, back when he was a teen, before he discovered his love for music production. perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to try.

unintentionally, he meets the gaze of a girl sitting at a booth with her friends. he quickly averts his gaze, and by the time he looks back up, she has been roped into what seems like a shot-taking contest. six other girls circle the table, one joining the first girl in taking rapid-fire shots, four others egging them on, and one laser-focused on her phone, occasionally sipping water through a straw. from what he can gather, she’s likely the group’s designated driver — though it seems her role has morphed into more of a babysitter. she’s pretty, he’ll admit. just his type. if he was on his third or fourth beer, he’d probably be over there trying to strike up a conversation with her, rather than any of her drunk friends. 

as she looks up and throws a cursory glance around the bar, she catches him staring, her kohl-lined eyes meeting his own. an eyebrow raises as her gloss-coated lips twist, as if to say “don’t even try it.”

oh, how terribly he wishes to slip into her mind and let her know that he has no intention to. 

the ear-piercing screech of yeonjun’s barstool to his right tears his gaze away from her. yeonjun now stands, one arm around taehyun and the other around soobin, the latter sporting a borderline disgusted grimace directed at the older boy hanging off of him while kai simply stands behind the trio of men. yeonjun’s head hangs low below his shoulders, chin nearly touching his chest, as he emits a pathetic groan. at least he’s not puking this time.

“we’re about to go grab some food. this one,” taehyun’s head nods to yeonjun’s sagging frame. “definitely needs it. you coming?”

unwilling to allow the night to end quite yet, beomgyu hums, quickly pays his tab, and allows the brief, silent encounter with the woman to fade away into the back of his mind.

the rest of the weekend passes without fanfare, and monday returns to rear its ugly head once again. monday is beomgyu’s least favorite day of the week; it brings a raging headache from his 5 a.m. alarm, a bone-deep fatigue that lingers for the rest of the day. it brings grumpy commuters whose knees and elbows uncomfortably bump against his own. it brings people who think that he should give up his seat, and silently tell him so with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. how selfish, they all think whenever he actually bothers to read their thoughts. what a fucking dick, some of them even snarl within the so-called impenetrable walls of their minds, walls he so easily breaks down. he levels those ones with a half-awake glare, pupils gloomy and lifeless. internally, their uneasy reactions make him want to laugh, hysterically cackle in their faces because wow, is he really that scary? he shouldn’t be, but maybe the dark under eyes are doing something for him.

surprisingly, the subway car he frequents is less crowded than usual. not as many people stand in front of him, and he’s actually able to see directly across the car for the first time in a while. doors shut, and he’s left to look around at the regulars and the new patrons that often don’t show up again. they’re easily less interesting than the regulars. really, what can he say? the daily life updates satisfy his nosy tendencies. 

still, he hates mondays. mondays suck. mondays make him want to crawl into a hole and eventually join the bodies at his workplace. they bring out the worst in his mind. all they do is remind him of the neverending cycle that he has trapped himself in — wake up, work, go to sleep, and do it all over again the next day.

mondays bring a lot of things he fundamentally dislikes, but this particular monday also brings you. 

it’s split-second eye contact. nothing more, nothing less. your eyes grow wide, your lips parting just the slightest bit in surprise. though he has not invaded your mind (yet), he can already tell what you are thinking. fuck, he isn’t blind — he knows that he is handsome.

your eyes shoot downward, your head hanging low with your phone clenched between your fingers. one of his eyebrows raises while a small smirk plays on his lips — you’re new, and even better, you’re cute. his dark, seemingly bored gaze trails over to the earbuds nestled in your ears, then to your crossed legs. you glance up at him again, eyes blowing wide again as your thighs press together just enough for him to notice the movement. his own eyes narrow slightly, evaluating the sight. 

you seem...interesting. prim, proper, sitting in a modest-length skirt and a plain blouse and coat that paint you as an unassuming character, just another random person in this sardine can of a train car. yet there’s this glint in your eyes that tells him there is so, so much more to you than what meets the eye — that the innocent, put-together little front that you display to the world is a complete and utter lie. it’s intriguing. new patrons come and go from this particular subway car every day, but you and your fresh face have caught his interest — and so has your odd behavior. 

then, without warning, realization punches him square in the gut.

you were there the other night, with those girls at the bar. the one sitting at the end of the table with the small glass of water as you scrolled through your phone. the one who shot a piercing glare at him as you looked out for your inebriated friends. your current behavior is a far cry from the strong front he first encountered that night, small and oh-so meek and lacking the sharp, piercing edge to your gaze that initially piqued his interest in you. the change, for some reason, intrigues him more. what happened to that feisty glare, that confident air to your posture? he wants to know why you seem so meek, so he taps in to your mind and—

“you’re my dumb little slut, aren’t you? fuckin’ say it—”

beomgyu flinches in his seat, the door to your mind slamming shut as he sits there in shock. did he really just hear that? are you listening to fucking porn on the subway? what the fuck?

he’s never had this happen to him before. he’s accidentally stumbled upon the occasional horny thought before, sure, but listening to porn on the subway? that’s a new one. he decides to give you another glance; your lips are pressed together now, eyes pointed towards the floor as you further shrink into yourself. fuck, you’re so cute, but now he knows you’re also awfully perverted — and for some reason, he feels himself getting hard in his trousers at the thought of entering your mind again. 

he should do something about this little development, shouldn’t he?

yeah, he thinks that he should. a sick sort of curiosity wins over the more logical side of his brain, the side that tells him that he should feel guilty for even thinking about what he’s about to do. he can’t, can he? no, he can — he wants to, he really fucking wants to. opportunities like this don’t just present themselves on a silver platter like this on the regular. if he doesn’t take this chance, then he’d be an absolute fool. 

the subway slows to a stop, the weirdly cheery, robotic voice calling out another stop. not his, thank god. he takes this opportunity to open that pesky little door to your mind again, now fully expecting the depravity echoing in your brain — and rather than do anything drastic too quickly, he simply sits there and listens. he listens through an entire audio alongside you, ignoring the twitch of his cock as he listens to the woman be degraded and praised, in missionary and in doggy, her moans mixing with the man's in a cacophony of pleasure — he loves the way you jump when the sound of a hand striking flesh sounds through your mind. your fleeting sigh of “god, i wish that were me,” causes him to bite his lip. you like being treated like a slut, huh? like a stupid little whore only made to take cock? that’s music to his ears, really — because he likes treating girls like that too. 

as sick and disgusting as it is, he continues to listen as if mindlessly tuning in to a podcast, subtly adjusting himself in his pants as he fights off a raging boner. he wants to be the one to do those things to you. he wants to make you scream and sob and beg for mercy as he completely ravages your body, fuck you until you’re brainless, perfect little slut for him. you’d love that, according to the audios you consume for the remainder of his commute — to be fucked so hard you legs give out from under you, to be owned, fully and completely. he likes that sound of that as well.

a few minutes into the second audio, you take another glance at him, eyes squeezing shut right away once you catch his gaze — and suddenly, your thoughts are full of him. he’s encountered countless strangers who can perfectly visualize their streams of consciousness, and you seem to be yet another one of them. images of you on your knees between his thighs and sucking his cock in the middle of this subway car flood his own mind, switching to one of him fucking you from behind against the wall while everyone else watches, then to him finger fucking you with a hand around your throat…what the fuck. what the fuck? how do you just do that? how do you think of such terribly shameless things while looking so pretty and demure, as if you’re a shy little thing rather than some fucking whore? he shifts his briefcase over his lap again. fuck, he’s so hard it’s starting to hurt. shit, fuck. 

he should be appalled by you, but fiery, ardent lust is the sole emotion that floods his veins. would it be a bad idea to talk to you? no, you want it. you want it so fucking bad. just look at your mind — and he can make all your dirty little fantasies come true, if you would let him. 

just as he’s about to actually do something about you, the subway slows to a stop once again, the same cheery voice announcing his stop. god dammit. pushing himself up to his feet, he finds that you’re doing the same, wide eyes flitting around nervously as you move towards the door and stop nearly right next to him, those earbuds that hide your biggest secret in plain sight still stuck in your ears. he can still hear those degrading words and moans and slapping sounds that still echo through your mind, loud and clear as if those white earbuds are sitting snug in his own ears. 

the doors slide open, and soon enough, he loses sight of you in the surging crowd. stepping out of the subway, he looks around once, twice. you have completely disappeared; nowhere to be found, your mind has grown too far from his own for him to locate nor access, the tether between the two of you frayed to the point of snapping in half. with a brief purse of his lips, he sets off up the stairs. it’s fine, there’s always another day. it’s fine, he tells himself over and over again. there’s nothing he could have done in such a short time, anyway. 

the sun sits high in the sky today, but the bone-chilling air cuts through his puffy coat like tiny needles puncturing his skin, or millions of scalpels slicing open flesh nearly to the bone, cold and sterile and far from comforting. autumn shouldn’t be this cold, and his slightly soured mood isn’t helping his case right now. he should have done something back there, he should’ve opened up the channel between the two of you and taken the plunge. it wouldn’t have hurt to try, but no. no, he let that opportunity go like every other one he’s had in his life. with his jaw set, he promises himself that it won’t happen again. it won’t, because if he keeps living like this — allowing all these opportunities slip through his fingers like grains of sand — he’ll never be able to forgive himself.

and honestly, beomgyu is no clairvoyant, and he should brush off the tickle in his brain as a stupid, naive hunch…but he has a compelling feeling that he’ll be seeing you again tomorrow. 

when beomgyu returns home, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon, he doesn’t unwind like he usually does. today’s shift was a slow one, with no bodies to preen and primp and no services to set up for, so most of his time was taken up with cleaning, filing documents, and sitting around aimlessly. no matter how much he tried to fend them off, thoughts of you bounced around in his brain for the entire eight hours he was on shift. fuck, he doesn’t even know your name, much less anything else about you, yet he wishes he could travel back in time and redo this morning all over again. he’s not sure how it would have panned out, exactly, but he has a few tricks up his sleeve that would’ve made it exciting.

he shakes his head. the current moment presents much more pressing matters than ruminating on this morning’s terrible decisions; the strain in his trousers proves to be a pertinent issue, a tent formed in the black fabric and aching to be touched. now that the public eye no longer holds his gaze, his apartment door locked shut behind him, he allows himself to give in to his most base instincts. a hand comes down to cup his hardness as he imagines his fingers as yours, you on your knees below him, those adorably wide eyes staring up at him in desperation. you’d wait for permission, right? you’d beg so prettily like a good little slut should? fuck yeah, you would. you’d be good, you’d take what he would give you — and you would love it. 

groaning, he crashes onto his couch, head throwing back against the back cushion as he gropes his cock harder. he’s forgone slipping off his dress shoes and has barely even slipped his coat off before he’s giving in to the pulsing ache in his groin that’s nearly unbearable, the white hot need swirling in his stomach that demands his immediate attention. his belt quickly unbuckled and his trousers pulled halfway down his thighs, he slips his cock from his boxers, gasping at how sensitive he has become. 

“oh fuck,” he breathes out into the quiet air, a shuddered sigh following when his thumb swipes over the angry red head, the bead of precum that has gathered there spreading across his skin. he brings his hand up to his lips, gathering some spit beneath his tongue before letting in loll into his palm. bringing it back down, he drags his hand up and down his shaft, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as pleasure rushes through his veins. he pumps his cock steadily, hips rolling up into his hand as if fucking your throat. eyes fluttering closed, his free hand grips the couch, fingernails digging into the worn leather and leaving half-moon indents in their wake. “fuck. god, fuck.”

would you be able to take him? he’s been told he’s big, most women barely able to take him even after extensive prep. he imagines how you’d keen as he enters you, your back arching so prettily and your walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. how you’d choke and gag on his cock if he decided to use your throat, tears streaming down your cheeks as you peer up at him pathetically, fingers digging into your thighs as you resist the urge to touch yourself. would you like to be slapped around a little, punished with spankings and little taps to your cheek? 

“focus,” he mumbles to no one. to you. “focus, slut. be good for me.” 

he’s delirious at this point, has dived so deep into his fantasies that he barely registers that he’s fucking his fist and not your mouth or sweet little cunt. that doesn’t stop his fingers from tightening their grip, squeezing the head before gliding back down again, then back up, the rhythm of his hips growing frenzied as his high inches closer. his free hand smooths up his stomach, taking his button-up with it as he clenches it with desperate fingers. he bites down on the fabric, pumping himself once, twice, three times before his high hits him, his cum spurting out in staccato ribbons. he’s making a mess, but he can’t bring himself to care when this is the best orgasm he’s had in months. the shirt falls from his mouth as he moans unabashedly. 

“take it,” he groans, his hips canting upward. “fuckin’— fuckin’ take it. shit. such a perfect little whore for me.”

he cums and he cums, spilling all over himself until he’s milked dry. eyes closed, his contracted muscles melt into the couch, hot pants replacing his moans and groans. a few minutes pass before he fully comes down from his headspace and returns back to earth, only for him to realize just how much he came, staining his clothes and coating his skin in creamy white. he blinks. 

reality crashes down on his head. 

he just…jerked off to you. he just came so hard he saw stars just from the mere thought of you. oh, he’s in deeper than he first thought. too deep, too quickly, he can barely breathe. 

“fuck,” beomgyu murmurs as he stares down at his cum-covered abdomen, his sticky hand. “fuck.”

beomgyu was right: you do come back the next day. and the next. and the next.

over the remainder of the work week, he watches you — well, more so listens to you, but he can’t deny himself the little glimpses he allows himself to take, drinking in how you worry your bottom lip, how the muscles in your throat contract each time you gulp. the poker face that you don crumbles oh so easily whenever he meets your stray gaze. it’s exhilarating, knowing the power he, a complete stranger, has over you. your microscopic slips in expression remain undetected to the rest of the passengers, but he sees every single one. they’re a perfectly entertaining backdrop for your explicit musings. 

he knows he could approach you like a normal human being would, but where’s the fun in that? he’s not quite a normal person in his own right, anyway. instead, he’s decided to keep you in his sights, learning what exactly you enjoy, what you like to hear, preparing for the day where he again gathers the courage to toy with you within the walls of your mind. he’s in deep, and at this point, he’s accepted it if only to justify his sadistic obsession with you. actually, on second thought, he wouldn’t quite call it an obsession, perhaps a morbid curiosity more than anything. yeah, that’s all it can be.

it’s almost as if the universe has sent him a little present in the form of you, an apology for the trials and tribulations that whatever is above has rained down on him this past year or so. of course he’s going to savor it. who wouldn’t? so he sticks to his plan, and keeps watching you, listening to you, observing you, identifying your little quirks and deepest, darkest desires. they’ll be quite useful later, he’s sure. 

over his…research period, he’s found out a lot about you. you like to be bullied, to be called a slut, a whore, but you also enjoy a little praise mixed in: good slut, good whore, pretty girl is so obedient for sir, for daddy, for master. you’re also not too picky in what you listen to, as long as it contains a male dominant in some capacity. couple’s content, threesomes, gangbangs are all on the table, as are solo audios that usually have some sort of plot to them — coworkers to lovers' first date that ends in sex? check. hot librarian who fucks over a table you after closing? that too. he could go on about what he’s heard in just the solo audios you consume, but even that list would be exhaustive. 

by the time friday rolls around, he doesn’t even have to try to search for your mind; call him crazy, but it’s almost as if you, on some subconscious level, know that he wants in and are more than willing to let him. as if you keep the door cracked open just for him. 

at least, he likes to think that you do. 

staying close, but not too close, to you proves to be difficult today. fridays bring with them a surge of new faces that crowd the subway car, which is generally quite annoying, but at the moment, he also finds it to be frustrating. no seats are open when he boards, he can’t even see you through the dense crowd, but you’re there. your mind is there, open and waiting for him to enter.

though he won’t be able to see your cute little reactions, he steps through that mental threshold. 

“it’s okay, baby. shh, don’t cry, you can cum. cum for me, just let go,” a gentle voice coos. aw, you must be having a rough morning, how sad. the only other day you listened to these kinds of audios, you looked absolutely miserable, the corners of your lips pulled down and a deep, pathetic furrow to your brows — it was wednesday, that’s right. two days ago, when you seemed frazzled and completely out of it. a little digging resulted in him learning that you had spilled your coffee all over the concrete on the way here, you thought your hair didn’t look right (even though, to him, it did, it looked perfect — he wished he could’ve told you that), and worst of all, your boss emailed you late the previous night to admonish you for your performance, demanding a meeting first thing that morning. 

still, he wishes he could take care of your boss, eliminate that weight off of your shoulders. if it were up to him, your boss would be sitting in the morgue at his place of work, gray and comatose and unable to admonish you for things that beomgyu is sure you had no control over. because that’s how offices work, right? sink or swim, big fish eat the little ones, blaming those below them for everything they should be taking responsibility for. your boss has to be one of those. he was pig-nosed and donning a constant sneer when you pictured the verbal berating you’d be getting once you got to your workplace. 

that day, he found himself thinking about how he’s become pretty talented with a scalpel. 

“good girl. doing so well for me, pretty girl,” the same voice soothes, soft cries and sniffles from the submissive mixing with the gentle words. he could treat you all sweet too. he could be anything you want, if only you knew him. 

he wants you to know him — needs you to, really.

there’s no clear cut reason for your current sour mood, your thoughts too jumbled together for him to properly decipher. are you picking apart your appearance? did you wake up late? is this all because of your boss again? he might just kill the bastard if that’s the case…if only he could approach you, tell you that everything will be okay, but he doesn’t want to knock down the house of cards he’s spent such precious time building over the course of the week. you’re too special for that. it’s the very reason why he tries to blend into the crowd, why he tries to keep eye contact to a minimum. the last thing he needs is for you to run away from him when you’re one of the only things holding him together.

when the car slows to his and your stop, disappointment nips at the space between his eyebrows. he didn’t even get to see you today, and the end of the work week means that he won’t be seeing you for two entire days. sighing, he falls into his typical routine: move towards the doors, wait for them to open, and follow the other exiting passengers out. where could you be? you’re still here, he knows that much since he’s still connected to you, still hears those soft words and moans, but where the fuck are you? you, as in your body. that you.

with a single cursory glance around, he swears he catches a glimpse of your figure before the crowd swallows you whole. as he’s shoved towards the stairs by the crowd, his chest grows heavy.

friday has just begun, but monday couldn’t come any faster. 

“so, are you gonna try out?”

yeonjun is far more sober compared to last friday night, his eyes lacking that fatigued droop they always get whenever he’s had too much. beomgyu tears his glazed-over gaze away from the television screen to look at the yeonjun, sinking further into the couch below him. he points to himself. “me?”

yeonjun rolls his eyes, a knee swinging over the arm of the armchair he sits in. “who the fuck else would i be talking to?”

scoffing, beomgyu shoots him a glare. “i don’t know, man. y’don’t have to be a dick about it.”

the open bottle of beer in beomgyu’s hand chills his fingertips, so he switches it to his other hand before taking another sip. meanwhile, soobin plops down next to him with an already open bag of chips, offering some to him. he shakes his head, and soobin shrugs, beginning to munch on them by himself. 

“i’m serious though,” yeonjun continues. “you should really try out. there’s not much to it, just dance to one song and you’re done. i’d probably pass you even if you sucked.”

“that’s nepotism,” taehyun chimes in from the floor, eyes trained on the screen as he shoots a player down in the game him and kai are currently obsessed with. the sound of gunfire fills the living room of soobin and yeonjun’s apartment, the murmurs of the two boys a low drone beneath it as they figure out their best strategy to win. 

he almost wishes he lived here with soobin and yeonjun, or with the other two. yeonjun and soobin, taehyun and kai — only beomgyu lives alone. alone doesn’t necessarily mean lonely, but in beomgyu’s case, it does. maybe that’s why he’s latched onto you so hard: to cure his loneliness. he swats that thought away like one would a pesky mosquito. he hasn’t latched onto you, he admonishes himself, he’s simply curious. yeah, curious. 

just a little innocent curiosity. 

disregarding taehyun’s comment, yeonjun raises an eyebrow towards beomgyu. “i know i was drunk when i said that shit last week, but you really have been acting weird since you started at that job. we’ve all noticed.”

“yeah, it’s like you’ve gotten more reserved, or something,” soobin says, words muffled by his chewing. beomgyu grimaces, shifting closer to the arm of the couch. 

“you’re the most introverted one here, you can’t say shit,” kai snorts. soobin throws a chip at his head.

“anyway,” yeonjun butts in with a scalding glare before an argument can begin. soobin and kai blanch, mouths closing. “we’re just…concerned about you.”

“is this some kind of intervention?” beomgyu laughs, disbelief apparent in his tone. he’s fine. he has you now.

“no, we just want you to know that there’s other things you could do that would make you happier than work at a fucking funeral home,” taehyun says, eyes still not straying from the tv. 

“like joining my dance crew,” yeonjun tacks on. 

beomgyu sighs. they’re kind of right, if he’s being honest with himself, but is he ready to put himself out there again? is he ready to face the potential of rejection, of failure? he’s had his life fall apart in front of his eyes once already, what if it happens again?

“...i guess.”

“c’mon.” yeonjun shifts around until he’s leaning on his elbows, focus solely on beomgyu. “tryouts are next saturday. i know how fast you can learn choreography. hell, you could probably learn something in a couple hours and be fine.”

“honestly, you’ll never know if you don’t try,” soobin chimes in. “it might end in something good.”

“yeah,” beomgyu says before taking another large swig of beer. “yeah, i know.”

and so another weekend passes, and monday returns once again. 

soobin’s brief, sage advice plays through his mind again and again. although he understands that soobin meant for it to apply to his current career situation, beomgyu has adopted it for his situation with you instead. he should try, he’s going to try, eventually. 

it might end in something good, he tells himself over and over again. he has to try.

mondays are a bit less excruciating now that you’re around. he has only known you for a week, but it’s been long enough to know that you make his day-to-day routine bearable — hell, he’ll stay at his terrible job as long as you keep showing up each morning. the day that you don’t will be the nail in his coffin — he chuckles at his stupid joke. yeonjun is rubbing off on him too much.

the sky is overcast today, and endless expanse of gray that contrasts the warmth of the changing leaves that line the sidewalk. it might rain soon, he surmises, but he hopes that it won’t. he’s forgone an umbrella today. digging his hands further into his coat pockets, he ducks into the subway station, descending the stairs and weaving through the crowd until he finds his usual platform. when he gets there, you’ve already arrived, ears vacant of those white earbuds, but it’s not a foreign sight to him. you typically put them in once you sit down. the fact that you get on and get off at the same stop as him…he almost likes to think of all of this as fate. 

maybe the universe really is trying to apologize. 

the subway arrives at the platform a few minutes later — minutes in which he tries not to stare at you. he’s not a creep, he swears that he’s not. he’s not a creep, he’s not a creep — he repeats this to himself as he follows behind you into the subway car the two of you frequent, he finds a seat across from you a few feet to your left. he can’t be too obvious.

and most importantly, he’s not a creep. 

you dig around in your bag. ah, here come those infamous earbuds, he’s sure of it — but then they don’t, and then the digging through your bag grows a degree more frantic, your lips parting as you continue shoving whatever is in there aside in search of your most precious possession.

you feel like crying as panic surges through your veins. oh god, you forgot them. how could you have forgotten them? what are you going to do now? 

beomgyu decides to tap into your mind in that moment, finding you in an unbelievably frazzled state. his heart clenches in his chest, he wishes he could help somehow…

wait. he could…oh my god, he could. no, that’s sick, he’s not a creep — well, no, he could. he definitely fucking could, and you’d probably end up liking it…

he could be your temporary replacement for today — no, he could become your constant source, the one you need to get through the day. he could become your audios. he wants to. they’d be far more…interactive, if he did, after all. you’d love what he could do to your pretty fucking body just with access to your mind. reading thoughts isn’t the only thing he can do — and soobin’s right: he’ll never know if he doesn’t try. how could he sit here any longer and not give in to his burning desire to ravage you? you know what? fuck it. this is the perfect opportunity, served up once again on a silver platter, waiting for him to take. he’s not going to let it slip away again — and oh, you just look so devastated right now, how terrible would he be if he didn’t help you?

in a split-second moment, beomgyu decides that today is the day. deep breath. focus. okay, he can do this. one, two, three…

“hello, pretty girl.”

you flinch before you look up and around, only to find no one is looking at you — well, he is, but through his peripherals. wouldn’t want to get caught, would he? suppressing a smirk at your reaction, he shifts in his seat.

“was someone just talking to me?” you ask yourself, brows furrowing as your eyes continue to dart around. your hand comes up to your ear to see if you accidentally remembered your earbuds, your frown deepening when you register that they are, indeed, not in your ears. glancing around again, your eyes skirt over his form. he shivers at the thought of what’s to come, biting his lip as he avoids your gaze. “is this some sort of prank?”

“calm down, sweetheart, this isn’t a prank. now, stop looking around, you’re the only one who heard me.”

your brain flits from thought to thought so quick he can barely keep up, the volume of them rising as you panic. your fingers clench the strap of your purse as if to ground yourself. “am i hallucinating right now? what the fuck? this has to be a prank. should i go to the doctor’s? no, my boss would kill me if i called out, but fuck, i should really go if i’m hearing things—”

beomgyu chuckles, the sound echoing through your mind as well. freezing, your muscles lock up as you look around again. your distressed stream of consciousness stops for a moment, before resuming at a much more rapid pace. “what the fuck, i need to call out right now, where’s my phone—”

sighing, he leans back into his seat and closes his eyes. so cute, how easily you spiral. “quiet that pretty little head of yours, pretty girl. you’re not hallucinating, this is all real. very real.”

a few moments pass before your internal freakout quiets down. for once, silence fills your mind…and rather than him break it, it’s you: “someone’s…talking to me through my mind? this is real?”

“such a smart girl. you figured it out so quickly,” beomgyu taunts, resisting the urge to coo again. adrenaline rushes through his veins, urging him to continue. you need him. he can make you happy. he just needs to hear you say it.

your thighs press together at the praise, fingers digging into the trousers you had chosen to wear. you shouldn’t be feeling like this. this is strange, terribly strange, and even a little frightening, now that you are aware that someone — that a complete stranger, at that — has full reign over your conscious. yet, at the same time, you’re curious to see how this will play out.

“and you can speak to me, too, if you focus hard enough…” his voice trails off. okay, you can do that. allowing your eyelids to flutter shut, you begin to breathe deeply until even the mechanical noises of the subway and the murmurs of passengers vacate your senses. mind empty, you exhale a shaky breath. focus. stay focused. 

“hmm, impressive. you’re a natural at this.” god, he needs to quit praising you like that with his deep voice. by the way he laughs, you know he heard that too. fuck. 

“who are you and why the fuck are you in my brain?” you decide to ask. straight to the point, no fluff to it, it’s reminiscent of your attitude at the bar where he first laid eyes upon you. this is the wall you put up towards strangers and any other threat to your life, but little do you know, beomgyu’s breached that wall already. this is just a little front. “answer me, you fucking asshole—”

“woah, woah, watch the language. why would i tell you who i am? it’s much more exciting this way, don’t you think?” the smile in his voice is unmistakable, but he purses his lips to keep them from curling upward. 

you start to gnaw on your bottom lip, biting hard enough for pain to bloom across your nerve endings. this is stranger you’re talking to right now, a stranger who you’re talking to through your fucking thoughts. this is weird. you never signed up for this. “get the hell out of my mind before— before i—” 

“before you what? can’t kick me out, you don’t know how to do that, pretty girl.”

fuck, he’s right — wait, if he’s in your mind right now, can he also control it? is he going to hurt you? is he going to make you his puppet and go on a murder spree? is he in this car with you, or somewhere else? what if…what if…

beomgyu can almost feel your panic swelling in his own chest. fuck, he needs to put a stop to your spiraling before it gets out of control. if you freak out now, then all of his work over the past week will be for naught. after all, he’s not going to do anything without your permission. the last thing he wishes to do is scare you off completely before he can have his fun. with great urgency, he cuts off your ramblings, “hey, now, relax for me, princess. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m as human as you are, just a bit…different, i guess. and i am in the same car as you right now.”

rather than respond, you look around again, eyeing every single man around you with suspicion, even him. he stares at the floor, maintaining what he hopes to be a neutral, borderline bored, expression. he needs to keep it together. he’s gotten this far, he can’t ruin this. “looking around again, huh? if i were that easy to spot, then this game wouldn’t be very fun, would it?” 

“game? fucking with my mind is a game to you?” 

the corners of his lips twitch up before he’s forcing them back down. this is it, the moment he has been waiting oh so patiently for. keep it together.

“well, not really — i actually have a proposition for you, if you’d hear me out.”

scoffing, you urge him along. “just get on with it.”

“so impatient. that’s okay. i can work with that,” he smirks. “i know what you listen to every morning, you know.”

your heart drops to your stomach. he what? oh god, you think you’re going to be sick. your arms wrap around your stomach, squeezing hard. this is bad, this is really fucking bad. “do you want money, or something? are— are you trying to blackmail me right now? i’ll have you know, i’m actually kinda broke right now. i really don’t wanna end up homeless, can you just. pick someone else to fuck with? there’s like twelve different businessmen in this car, i’m sure they’re rich and corrupt—”

beomgyu’s brows raise imperceptibly. jesus, are you always this flighty? “woah, chill. i’m not here to judge you — or blackmail you, for that matter. i’m not evil. aw, don’t look all shameful now. i told you i’m not here to judge — i actually wanna help you, if you’d let me.”

“help me?” you dumbly echo. “help me how?”

“well,” he starts. “i noticed you forgot your earbuds today, and you just looked so sad and lost without them. how else are you going to get through your commute? and then i thought maybe i could do something about that. y’know, help you out, get you through the morning.”

“so you invaded my privacy just to tell me that you wanna dirty talk to me for the rest of my commute? is that what you mean? ‘cause if so, that’s pretty weird,” you reply, though your stray thoughts that dart around tell him that you’re actually considering his offer — it’s tempting, isn’t it? to give in, to let his deep voice get you all squirmy and needy, knowing he could be anyone in this subway car. still, your words make him laugh, because of course you’re deflecting right now. it’s okay, he hasn’t given you the full story quite yet.

“that’s only part of my offer, princess,” he starts. “i can read minds, yes, but i can also do…other things.”

oh, you’re really considering it now. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let him. his voice is nice, and maybe, just maybe, it’s kind of making you horny. after a deep, long breath, you gulp once, then, with curiosity dripping from your tone, you ask, “...like what?”

jackpot.

beomgyu’s high on a mix of adrenaline and dopamine, utterly giddy because he’s got you right where he wants you, where he needs you. he’s played his cards just right, shoved your worries to the side and drew out your curiosity enough that you’ve taken his bait. perfect, oh, this is perfect. he knew you’d be good for him.

“it would be much easier for me to show you.”

“then show me,” you immediately reply, heat flooding your cheeks at the sheer desperation in your voice. god, calm down. he hasn’t even done anything yet.

chuckling at your internal conflict, he decides not to comment. “tell me if you don’t like something. i’ll stop.” he watches as you slightly nod to yourself, a soft “okay,” echoing through your head and into his — thus, he sets his plan into action. 

something warm caresses your calf, but when you look down, there’s nothing there. your eyes widen — was that a hand? it definitely felt like one, the way it creeped up the back of your leg, calloused fingertips pressing into your skin. a shiver races down your spine. that had to have been him. 

“it was,” he confirms, then his voice is growing impossibly deeper, adopting that gruff edge that you love so much. “you want more, princess? i can give you more.”

another phantom hand skirts over your waist, dragging down over your hips to your right thigh, just to stop there. biting your bottom lip, you nod, hoping that whoever is in your head right now sees it, wherever he is. the hand moves to your inner thigh; despite how tightly pressed together they are, it skirts over your skin with ease, seemingly beneath your trousers. “i need words, pretty girl, or i might just stop right now. and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

no, you wouldn’t, not at this point. the unbearable ache currently building in your core makes you want to cry; you haven’t felt this level of desperation in a while, and you need to be touched. you need it so fucking bad. 

“please.” the single word comes out meek, quiet. shame flushes your face, a fiery heat that spreads up to your ears and down your neck. 

you hear the way his breath shudders, causing your own hitch. “fuck, you’re so cute, but i need more than that. beg. beg for me to touch you.”

his voice — fuck, his voice is so deep, so dark and wanton. you wonder what he sounds like when he’s moaning, how he would sound if he fucked you, pounded you into the mattress so hard you saw stars. the image of a faceless stranger fucking you from behind, your back arched behind you and your face buried in the sheets, as he holds your wrists behind your back flits across the big screen of your mind. you shake it away, but the man in your head is already tutting. “use your words, sweetheart, not pictures — though i’d love to do that to you too. you’ve got quite the imagination on you.” 

beomgyu’s cock twitches in his boxers as you whine, frantic pleas bubbling up from the deepest, darkest recesses of your mind once he takes the sensation of his hand away from your thigh. you sound halfway dumb already, begging for his hands, his cock, his tongue — anything. you’ll take anything just, “please, sir. please touch me. need you to touch me so bad.”

you don’t even know who he is, yet you’re being so obedient, calling him sir, begging so sweetly for him — it’s like you’re begging straight into his ear. his heart swells at the thought, as does his cock. you sound so pretty, but he finds himself wishing he could hear these words come from your lips instead. 

“yeah? my little slut needs more?” he prods, laughing meanly when you whimper out a yes. “aw, ‘course she does. desperate whores always need more, don’t they? so greedy.”

you have to swallow down a whimper at that, focusing so intently on keeping quiet that your nails have dug into your palms deep enough to almost break skin. the pain seems to help keep you grounded — that is, until you feel the sting of a palm against your backside. you flinch in your seat, gasping sharply. the man sitting next to you glances over, but you only hang your head and shrink into yourself. he looks away. 

“focus, whore. you’re drawing too much attention to yourself.”

two hands are touching you now. one cupping your pussy, the other wrapped around your throat, pressing into the sides of your neck so you start to grow dizzy. the hand on your throat releases its grip to slide down to your chest, circling around one of your nipples before a thumb swipes over the pebbled flesh. your back arches off of your seat when the sensation morphs into that of lips, plush warmth enveloping your tit before the sharp bite of teeth interrupts. you inhale a shaky breath from your nose as lips return to soothe the sting. despite the hard press of your thighs, the hand on your pussy drags up and down your folds, dipping down to your entrance before dragging up to your clit. a tiny squeak sneaks up your throat before you’re masking it with a cough. 

“aren’t you just a sensitive little thing? so wet too,” he coos, shifting his briefcase over his lap to gain some semblance of friction. his fingertips tingle as if your wetness coats them right now. fuck, he’s hard. if it were up to him, you’d be taking his cock right now, moaning so prettily as he presses you up against the wall and fucks up into you, your legs giving out from under you because he’s just making you feel so good, isn’t he? never mind that, he has a job to do. “how about i just…”

two lithe fingers breach your walls while a thumb continues to slowly circle your clit, barely brushing over the sensitive bundle of nerves. you feel like you’re going insane, trying your best to hold still as his fingers begin to move inside you, curling up into your walls. searching, he’s searching for that spot inside you that will get you crying—

then he finds it. 

your knee jerks up, your legs falling open slightly before you’re pressing them closed again as he abuses it over and over again, crooking his fingers just right to find it with each thrust. your hips roll up into the sensation, stilling as soon as you realize that you’re squirming too much, being too obvious. people are starting to stare, calm down. calm the fuck down.

god, you don’t think you can. it’s too difficult to keep still with the way he’s finger-fucking you right now. with the way there’s lips suddenly circling your clit, sucking the pearl in so that his tongue can play with it. little kitten licks that make you want to scream and cry and beg for mercy because you don’t know if you can keep up this front of normalcy with the way he’s touching you.

it’s like he’s speaking directly into your ear right now, warm breath fanning over your earlobe, your cheek. “wanna see you fall apart, wanna see you lose it in front of all of these people, baby. bet you wanna cum right now, yeah? just wanna feel good, don’t even care if you quake and cry in public? you’re that fucking desperate for it?” 

you nod to yourself, eyes squeezing shut. you’re so close. oh god, you’re going to cum. you’re going to cum like a brainless whore in the middle of a fucking subway car. you’re sick. you’re fucking sick for enjoying this.

you’re just as bad as him, beomgyu decides. he knew you’d like what he could give you, he knew you needed him. it was just a matter of time before you realized that fact. that’s okay, because he needs you just as badly. it’s a carnal need, white hot in the center of his stomach — fuck, he’s obsessed with you. he wants you to be his forever. 

and beomgyu knows you’re close, but he’s not quite ready to give you what you want. 

“please, oh god. please let me cum. fuckfuckfuck— no, please don’t stop!” you cry as he slows the pace of his fingers. “please no, ‘m so close! no no no—”

“you drive me crazy, it’s only fair if i return the favor. makes it more fun.” ripping the sensation away from you completely, he watches you bottom lip tremble as you blink back tears, your body melting into your seat as the pleasure fades away. “now, now, don’t cry, sweetheart. i have something even better for you.”

a few seconds pass before something breaches your entrance, your walls stretching to their limit, yet the sting of pain never arrives. filled to the brim, you throw your head back against the window behind you. to others, you seem to just be resting your eyes, but the way your mouth falls open is not lost on beomgyu. he knows you can feel him everywhere, knows you can feel the way the head of his cock nearly touches your cervix, how it presses into every single sensitive spot inside you. he knows he’s big, but you take it like a champ, your hips grinding down into the seat, as if to bring him deeper inside you. what a little whore, his little whore. 

“y’feel that, pretty girl? feel my big fucking cock inside you?” he asks as your chest heaves, a feeble attempt in holding yourself together. “calm down, now. i’m gonna start moving, okay?”

he doesn’t wait for your response before he’s spoon-feeding you the sensation of his cock pulling out until nothing but his cockhead remains within your walls. a few seconds pass, then your begging returns. tearful, this time, fucking pathetic. he basks in the power that rushes through his entire being. you need him. you need him in order to feel good, and he loves that you do. he brings a hand down to adjust himself in his pants, hissing quietly at the ache that the action brings. he needs to fuck you right now. physically fuck you, none of this thought manipulation bullshit — but no, he has to be patient. he can be patient as long as it’s you. 

the subway is slowing down again, and he comes to the gross realization that he only has a few minutes before both of you must depart. dammit, he has to make this quick. 

meanwhile, you’re already halfway to your high just at the mere feeling of him inside you. as soon as his cock begins to move again, you’re choking back moans, head hanging low as your muscles tense and your hands press into your lap. you can feel him in your throat each time he thrusts back in, his thrusts growing faster and faster until he’s pounding into you. 

“fuck fuck fuckkkkk!” you wail, encouraging him to continue. in reality, your walls clench around nothing, but your mind paints a different picture. you almost beg for him to cum inside, but you cant find the words, too fucked out to think about anything else but the knot in your stomach that grows tighter with each passing second. “fuck, please. please, fuck i’m, nghh—”

imaginary fingers swipe across your clit, and you’re a goner. 

thighs quaking, your release coats your panties, walls fluttering, but the movement of his cock doesn’t stop until you’re begging for mercy. beomgyu almost cums in his pants at the depraved wails you emit, half-baked sentences pleading for him to “s-slow down, please. i can’t, no, i can’t — shit!”

finally — finally — he grants you reprieve from the onslaught of pleasure. your body slumps into your seat, your eyes shut as you begin to float back down to earth. the clack-clack-clack of the subway slows until it stops completely. the usual robotic voice announces his stop, but you seem so out of it that you don’t even register that you need to get off. 

“good job, baby. you put on quite the show for me,” he praises as he rises to his feet. luckily, he decided on wearing a longer coat today which he uses to cover up his raging hard-on. this has to be fate.

no response. with an excited gleam in his eye, he disconnects from your mind and moves towards you. looming above you, he drinks in the beads of sweat that have formed along your hairline, the wrinkles in your trousers where you gripped the fabric a wee bit too hard, your dreamy eyes and how they blink down at his black loafers before raising to meet his own. concern has painted itself across his features, his head tilting as he holds your bleary gaze.

“are you alright, miss? you look a bit ill.”

you blink once. twice. god, how are you so cute even after getting fucked so hard? he can barely control himself from blurting out who he is.

“what—what stop is this?” you ask him, eyes wide and red-rimmed from your earlier tears. he tells you, and he watches those same eyes widen. “oh shit, this is my stop!”

attempting to stand, you stumble straight into his chest. he catches you with gentle hands before he’s helping you steady yourself. your legs tremble like those of a newborn fawn, sexy yet terribly adorable. he gulps at the image of you unable to walk, legs so sore that you’re forced to let him dote on you, that forms inside his mind. later. that can come later, don’t get too hasty. 

“oh, you’re a bit shaky there,” he murmurs, a hand curling around you elbow when you stumble again. “are you sure you’re alright?”

“i’m f-fine, sorry for the trouble,” you reply with a polite, yet jittery, smile, stepping away from him. he wants to tell you to come closer again, he wants to smell your sweet perfume again, feel your warm skin beneath his fingertips. 

but good things come to those who wait.

“no worries.” with a charming smile, he shuffles beside you, until the two of you have exited with the rest of the crowd. he catches your wrist before you can get too far, and you turn to face him once more. afterglow looks wonderful on you. “it looks like we’re getting off at the same stop today, so would you like me to walk with you until you’re feeling a bit better? i’m sure some fresh air will do you good.”

you pause for a moment, hesitating. have you seen him somewhere before? you feel like you have. “i…that would be great, actually. thank you.”

“of course,” he nods, holding back a smirk. he can’t help the words that escape him next.

“lead the way, then…pretty girl.”

the way you look back at him with alarmed realization — even a hint of fear — causes a grin to split open his lips. you begin to sputter as you back away, but he merely follows with light, casual steps. “w-what, who—who are you—”

his smile grows knife-sharp. the door opens — it always does. 

“aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he coos inside your mind, biting his lip as he watches your knees buckle. “who else could it be?”

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[boomboombakugou]

A Dumb Little Bakugou Drabble About You Guys Spending The Night Together

part one : this one will kinda make sense without reading the first part but it’ll but it’ll just be better if you do. okay here we go ah

It was 1am. You couldn’t sleep, but you didn’t wanna take out your phone in case Katsuki was a sensitive sleeper. He was on the floor and you felt bad, but also didn’t want to make it weird by offering to share the bed.

He was awake too. Neither of you know eachother was a wake and neither wanted to risk waking the other up. He flipped his pillow over to the cold side. You didn’t know if it was an unconscious thing or if we was really awake.

“Katsuki?” You said, sort of quiet, but loud enough for him to hear if he was up. He turned around to face you. The room was dark, but it felt like his red eyes were glowing, burning holes into you. You tell him to go back to bed because you assumed you had woke him up.

“Im already up, what do you want?” He asked you annoyed, but truthfully he wanted nothing more than for you to want something because he was so bored.

You shuffle in your blankets before finally deciding to just sit up, “Cant sleep.” You state. He keeps staring at you. “What? Imagining me naked?” You can’t help but make perv jokes whenever he looks at you.

“Stop making everything weird. I can’t sleep either, it’s just dark as hell in this room so I can’t see shit.” He spits. You don’t move, so he gets up and turns on the light. “Ew freak what if i was naked!” You whisper scream.

“Stop! You’re so weird.” He hisses back at you.

The joke is that when you were getting introduced to the class, Denki pointed back and both Mineta and Bakugou and said, “That’s Mineta.” Of course he didn’t know Bakugou was standing there too. All day long the girls told you about how weird and perverted Mineta was. You thought they were talking about Bakugou, but later you found out they weren’t. It’s still just super funny to you though. Katsuki hates it.

He goes to sit back on the floor, but you scoot over and pat the spot beside you on the bed. “Are you gonna try to kiss me?” He mocks.

You feel his weight press down on the mattress. He looks tired. Calm. He looks calm. Well, calmer than usual. “Stop looking at me, freak.” He says, waving his hands in front of your eyes.

You keep looking at him because you can’t stop thinking about how he says he cries for no reason too sometimes. You can’t imagine him crying. Obviously you knew he has emotions like everyone else, but you just couldn’t imagine it.

“So you cry for no reason sometimes?” You question. He stares at you. More of a glare. An annoyed glare. “Yes. I do. And what about it? I’d still kick anyone’s ass at any given time.”

You hold your hands up in defense. You weren’t trying to make fun of him. It was just interesting. “Cool.” You say as genuine as possible.

Another glare. “Yeah obviously.” Classic Katsuki. This is supposed to be a heartwarming moment, but this man will never miss a chance to flaunt his confidence.

Silence

More silence

The air turns off abruptly, making the room even more quiet. He sighs loudly and throws himself back into the bed so that his legs are hanging off but his top half his laying vertically. “Why do you wanna become a hero Y/N?” He asks. It sounds aggressive and angry, but he genuinely wants to know. Sort of like a judge of character.

You actually don’t know. Why wouldn’t you wanna be a hero? Saving people seems cool, you guess. “Why do you wanna be #1?” You ask, switching the conversation back to him.

He pauses and stares at you in a sorta disgusted way, “It’s less of a ‘i want to be number one’ and more of a ‘i’m going to be number one,’” Pause. “It’s a fact. I’m working to meet my goal and I will end up on top. Fact.” He continues.

A/N: honestly idk where i was going with this... i write them at like 2am when i’m bored. enjoy this though! i might end up making this a series tho🤭 titled “a dumb little bakugou drabble” are we rocking w the idea or no?? i think it’d be kinda fun because i have a lot of ideas. it would be sort of like a slow burn type thing with angst because that’s fun.. should i?! please comment or something telling me if i should lmao.

also reminder that requests are still open for mha charcters😁 it could be whatever you want. also does anyone wanna be added to my tag list i think that’s what it’s called? okay byee

[theplaceicommitmysins]

i need to talk about acts of service as his love language bakugou because i can’t handle this version of him that lives in my head alone ESPECIALLY since he thinks he’s being so fucking obvious

k so hear me out we got a lot of setup picture this - when you were a teen you attended ua in the hero course after the whole USJ Kerfuffle you end up having really bad nightmares so to make yourself feel safe enough to sleep you slip into the strongest kid in classes dorm and steal a dirty shirt

(this ended up being the longest hc ever so im adding a cut)

TLDR; Bakugou assumes yall are dating w/o getting your input (in a dumbass way not a yandere way but ykw go nuts show nuts that could be fun too)

it smells like him and the nightmares go away until it doesnt smell like him anymore

which is how it turns into a habit - one that you can’t stop doing until he fucking catches you because bakugou katsuki is gonna be the best gd hero obviously hes gonna notice his shit go missing (also hes anal af)

he gives you shit for it calling you a creep and a pervert and all that shit an evntually hes yelling in your face about how “What you you even need my shit for huh? You go around sniffing my boxers, freak?!” (you dont ToT but damn that guess is way too close)

so when you tearfully admit that you sleep in his shirts because ‘it makes the nightmares go away’ he feels like denki w/ how badly he short circuits

he calls you a dumbass n throws the shirt he caught you stealing onto your head n stomps off n you dont sleep in it cuz you feel guilty and sad so you have nightmares

he calls you out the next day for looking like shit - and hes almost like??? confused??? he gave you his shirt why the fuck are your dark circles so fuckin bad????? you look like the purple extra from 1b?????? the fuck???????

so hes like... okay that shirt didnt work n when you go to sleep in your dorm that night not only is the shirt from last night there - theres another one folded up on your pillow (it smells like caramel cuz he wore it to train)

you sleep with it and dont have nightmares - and the next day you get back to your dorm early and hes opening your door and you just

before you can say anything hes like “It worked?” and youre all “??????”

“The fucking shirt, dumbass. Did it work?”

n you tell him that yeah it worked, so hes like great whatever i dont actually care never look at me again and other miscellaneous tsundere noises

you end up having a really bad day training where somebodys quirk catches you off guard in just the wrong way that even with his shirt you have nightmares that night

you of course get another call out from his grumpy ass “Did it stop working? You need another one?”

n your sad ass has to be like “I appreciate the thought but I just- Don’t feel safe.”

honestly think he’d lecture you n call you a shitty hero for that because remember hes still 15 and a dick at this point

but he also tells you to get to his dorm that night

which is how you end up sleeping (the unconscious snuggling kind not fucking) together

after the training camp situation it becomes an every single night thing for you and for him because gdi he’s a kid and the shit he’s gone through would be hard for an adult with a lifetime of training and therapy give the brat a fucking hug n let him sleep like tomorrows gonna be okay for once

yall end up codependent as hell - when you can keep up with him you train together and hes always correcting your form in his assholeish but only cuz youre worth the effort of caring way and by the time yall are graduating his mom (who fucking adores you) is cosigning yalls lease on an apartment (two bedrooms - one of ems kiris the others is yours and bakugou cuz hey cities are expensive as fuck n tbh neither of your are sure you even know how to sleep alone anymore)

anyways all of this is a very long winded way of getting to the point

Bakugou Katsuki thinks the two of you are dating

And have been for years

he did not think to bring this up ever because why would he need to???? its so fuckin obvious????? He takes shitty shifts just so yalls schedules will match up and he learns to cook all your favorite meals and every single night since yall were like 16 the first thing he does to get ready for bed is take his shirt off and yank it over your head and you always get a little bit stuck and he always laughs and holy shit hes so in love and you

his entire fuckin world

the only person who gets him

DIDN’T

N O T I C E

AND HE FINDS OUT

WHEN YOU BRING HOME A DATE

not sure how the inevitable ahem discussion goes afterwards but no way in fuck he isnt throwing that asshole whos rocks up trying to date his baby out by the fuckin hair

[jj-ktae]

Erotica - Part 3 - (M)

Pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader Genre: SMUT Summary: You’re a rookie porn actress on the rise and everything goes well until you get offered a role in a big-budget porn movie, starring the most famous actor in the porn industry. Words: 5939 Warning: Read at your own risk

- Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Epilogue -

Part 3

Today is a good day. After a week-end of self-care – which means vegetating, you dread going back to work. It’s good to have time for yourself, and most of the time you do, but this movie implies a lot of mishaps. When it’s not about the script, it’s about pictures, interviews or even rehearsal. You wonder how a porn movie can be so demanding of your boring yet precious time, but you don’t fuss over it. You agreed and knew what it meant.


You also received the first payment and couldn’t be happier.

Your manager is way calmer now, and you know it’s not out of pure kindness but because you became his next cash cow. He often comes and asks about your future projects, implying you need to go to the yearly eroticism fair because this is how you’ll get more contacts and opportunities.

It makes you consider it twice when you think about it. So far you always went with the flow, the probability of being of any help to your mother enough to make you forget about anything else.

But how will you be able to live once everyone in the industry knows you?

It’s good to have recognition. It’s good under any other circumstances, that meaning anywhere else than in the sex industry. You don’t want to be seen by numerous perverts, the thought enough to make you shiver. You have a life to live and you don’t plan on being a porn actress all your life.

The next question is then: what will you do later?

It was smooth so far. You’re definitely not fine with your job, but being an amateur meant earning money without ending on a big poster like you probably will soon. It meant acting for a small audience without feeling scared of being recognized by anyone.

But after that, once you’ll be done with your promising career, what will be waiting for you?

You know the answer. Nothing. It is a given that once you won’t be good enough for classic porn movies, you’ll be thrown out, probably in the cougar section or ‘horny step-mother’.

It makes you question everything. It almost makes you give up on the movie, the lack of people to ask advices to not helping in your quest for answers. The other actresses look at you like you stole their job, some of them whisper about how lucky you are to act with someone as professional as JB – also known as ‘the jackpot’.

Said JB keeps on being the same pro-sex-god. To his defence, he stopped spitting nonsense to your face. He keeps a straight face when you seem uncomfortable with the ‘script’, doesn’t question your motivations when you say you don’t want to do a photoshoot. He stays silent when he hears you sigh in relief as soon as you go out of the studio.

He knows something is bothering you but pretends he doesn’t see it. It’s true that your relationship did get better, but it doesn’t cross the polite small talks. You insist on keeping a distance, probably because you think he is a pervert, and Jaebum wonder if he will ever be fine with that.

On top of that, he finds it hard to act with you.

Jaebum has the experience of a guy who acted in hard-core porn movies. It’s a strange feeling to act like he cares about the person he is having sex with. He always did and still is doing his best to act accordingly to what his fellow actresses want, but this time it’s different. This movie implies hidden feelings and never in his life did he had to do it. He was fine with a couple of scenes where he had to be gentle, but it was starting to look a little bit too much like real life, with sex scenes similar to one of a couple on a daily basis.

And for this, Jaebum almost has no experience. It’s understandable that it makes him feel exhausted, physically in pain, even. He finds it hard to last long, as much as he starts wondering when his touches became as pleasurable for him as they’re supposedly are for you.

But you keep on doing things like you were forced to do them, and as much as Jaebum keeps on ignoring it, he doesn’t think it’s fair for everyone on set - including him, to act like they are not affected by your unsuitable behaviour.

It’s during one of the script meeting that he understands he must dig for more. It’s a typical Monday and your face looks as uninterested as ever.

The screenwriter came up with awesome ideas for the rest of the movie, and decided to change a couple of things. His tone is as excited as ever, just like the director. “So, as you all know, Erotica’s strongest point is the focus on a sexual discovery. This week is the last week of filming, and I changed something about the last two sex scenes.”

This is enough to make you look up from the long document on the table, curious.

“We started with sensuality,” he licks his lips, eyes scanning every member of the staff in the meeting room, before his eyes fall on yours. “We should offer a very romantic grand finale.”

Jaebum leans on the table, a tad disturbed with the way things are going. His head falls on his hand, and everything sounds a little bit more risqué, now.

“So as you remember, I wanted to finish with the shower scene, BUT” he makes everyone jump on their seats, their attention focused on what he will say next. “Feelings. We need to end with feelings.”

What the hell does he mean?

He seems to be reading your mind, because he laughs, his eyes going from excited to naughty. “Y/N, we need to see feelings... We started with tenderness, then added sensuality. We know it’s a journey, so it’s only natural that you both end with an overwhelming scene. That scene won’t be the shower scene. We need to find a type of chemistry we have yet to find in a porn movie.”

The director nods like it makes sense. “It’s true. People need something deeper. We need to target people who need a break from the BDSM and choking and spanking. There are people who love soft sex, the type of sex that can be good with people you love.”

You don’t understand a word. What’s the point of doing porn if you’re supposed to act like you love the other one? It doesn’t make sense, and you’re not even sure it can be considered porn after what he said.

“What we need is to see the chemistry. At the beginning, it didn’t matter, you did great, it was instinctive. Now we need cohesion. We need to keep up with the promise of a different project.” The screenwriter continues, and everyone nod.

The director stands. “However you do it is up to you.” He points a finger at you and Jaebum, before smiling. “See you all later.” His assistants run after him, and you’re left with nothing but worry.

Damn movie.

Your manager taps your shoulder as soon as you leave the room, and you can see he is apprehensive. “Don’t freak out. Think of it as a basic role in a special movie.” The man smiles awkwardly, not bothered by your exasperated sigh as you leave for your next scene.

This week, they want to focus on the story, which means filming the non-sexual parts of the movie. You have to walk into a park, go to a restaurant, do all the casual things people do.

They say even porn movies need a storyline, and these are important. The only positive thing is that you will only be making out and talk with Jaebum.

The latter appears before you can change your clothes. You squint his lazy figure before walking to the hanging rail. The makeup and fashion staff aren’t here yet, which makes you wonder why he even bothered to come.

“I was wondering,” he starts, leaning against the doorframe. He seems to be hesitant, for his hands are restless, by his sides. “Are you still okay filming this movie?” His tone is flat, with no hint of reproach or anger.

You stop looking through the numerous outfits to give him your full attention. “I don’t know. I don’t. But I must. Why?” It’s funny, because for once ever since you met him, he doesn’t seem cocky in his way of speaking.

Jaebum shrugs, his inner self searching for the right words. “Because this movie is ridiculous, in my opinion.”

You raise your eyebrows as your mouth opens. Never did Jaebum questioned the job. He always did as he was told like everything was just fine.

“You mean, the chemistry thing? Or the whole movie?” You snort. Of course it’s ridiculous, it took him so long to notice that much?

“The whole movie.” He states, dead serious. “At some point I know chemistry is impossible, I got the memo.” He smiles, his tone back on mocking mode.

You don’t get it. You’re not his best-friend but you do act politely. He stopped being a jerk so you stopped being a bitch. Why is he even acting like you resent him? “We do get along.”

“Your manager told my manager that you think I’m a weird pervert who is most probably a sex-addict.” Jaebum explains slowly, proud to see your face become pale.

You did say that to your manager. It was that day Jaebum gave you three orgasms and your manager teased you yet again. Filming became okay, boring even, for it consisted of sex after sex.

You sigh, “I didn’t mean that. He was teasing me.”

“What was he teasing you about?” Jaebum’s next question makes you wonder why you have such a big mouth sometimes.

“Nothing worth sharing.” You utter, too tired to talk back.

Jaebum looks impressed and walks deeper into the room. “Rookie,” he takes a sit in front of the vanity table. “you’re not fierce today.” He smirks, the light behind him turning his face dark.

“I was never fierce. I’m just…lost?” You answer weekly, too confused with your situation. Maybe it was a mistake to become a porn actress.

“Why did you pick this profession, then?” Jaebum queries, leaning against the chair. “You could help your mother with a “regular” job, too.” He understands the struggle, but if it ruins your life, maybe it’s not something you should do.

The porn industry is no better than any other industry and it’s easy to fall into sticky situations. One always should check everything when it comes to a project. Actors can be pricks, and some agencies don’t follow the basic rules of keeping their actors clean.

You become defensive again. “I told you why.” You feel guilty enough, you don’t need Jaebum to come and make you feel even worse about your own life choices.

“What I mean is,” he gets up and drags himself toward you, before leaning so he can get at your level. “Is the satisfaction you feel when you send money to your mother higher than the satisfaction you would feel if you were not a porn actress but were earning less money?”

You don’t know what to answer. Putting things this way gives you another insight. There aren’t many jobs that include money without spending days after days at work. The agency pays you enough money to live decently, pay your father’s debt monthly and give some cash to your mother. Having a regular job – if you consider your poor education – means earning less money. You wouldn’t bear you mother calling you again because shark loans threatened her.

You chuckle, because for the first time you think that maybe this job isn’t a bad one. “So you can be cerebral.”

Jaebum smiles. “I have a big dick, but my brain is huge.” He winks playfully before straightening his back. “I can actually think on my own. Surprising, hm?”

You roll your eyes. “Anyways. I don’t know. If I think about my mother, things are easier yet complicated. She doesn’t know what I really do for a living.”

Jaebum doesn’t sound surprised at all. “I figured that much. You don’t seem to be the type of person who boasts about her occupation.”

“I wouldn’t dare. Especially when I think about how my life is going to be ruined after this.” You grab one of the water bottle provided by the staff. “Who wants to have a relationship with a porn actress?”

Jaebum snorts, unfazed. “We’re not talking about Hollywood. I doubt every guy you meet knows about your movies.”

“But I can’t hide it either. It’s a constant fear. Are we going to be porn stars all our lives?” Maybe Jaebum wants to. Even if he wanted to stop, it’s easier for guys to meet girls who don’t watch porn movies. He can live just fine.

Jaebum tilts his head, but turns around again. “I don’t plan on being a porn star all my life. Once I make sure I don’t need to work anymore, I’ll stop.”

You always thought he was glad to have sex and get paid for it. “You don’t?”

He laughs, his face transforming totally it’s the first time he bursts out laughing in front of you. “I’m full of surprises today, right?”

You can only nod, looking impressed. So this guy can talk about something else than sex and actually thinks about his future out of the industry.

He walks away, whistling.

--

It’s a calm week. The scenes are peaceful. They involve more dialogue and less action, except for the moments you need to make out. You admit that Jaebum is good at making out. He knows when to tease and when to stop, he can be gentle but firm and more often than not, you find yourself aroused when he is done with you. It’s frustrating, but you blame it on science.

Also, you were always told you could get wet with the simplest touches.

These short scenes make you see him differently. He is more obedient, he lets you go your pace, helps when you have trouble acting, and even makes jokes when you feel anxious. It’s a drastic change, but it makes you feel comfortable. You suspect he is maybe trying to make things easier for you and grabs the opportunity of non-sexual scenes to show himself more.

You see him read one time, between shots at the park. He stays quiet and thanks the staff as they fix his hair.

Maybe you were totally wrong about him.

This leads to more talk between you. Jaebum shares that he is an only child and told his parents about his job. He explains he saves money so he can invest in real estate business and will stop as soon as he earns enough money from his investments.

He seems responsible and down on earth, aware that this job is temporary.

The week goes by in the blink of an eye. It makes you situate your level of civility with Jaebum, and you come to the conclusion that the boy isn’t what you think he was. You’re surprised even, when you start appreciating the fact that he is your co-actor. His experience often comes in handy, and he doesn’t mind doing most of the work when you don’t know what to do with your body.

The staff is delighted. You can see it by the way they look at you during these scenes. You were apparently able to create the chemistry that goes beyond sex and more toward a relationship.

Jaebum finds the situation odd. Making-out was never in his books when it came to his job, and he has trouble dealing with this. He decides to give everything he can, no matter how much he doesn’t like it. He is the one who has experience, even though he wouldn’t say it is helping for the current situation. The scenes are too soft, too mushy, there is way too much affection.

It’s starting to look like real life and he doesn’t like how private his actions became.


The week ends with glee. Jaebum knows there are only two sex scenes left, and he is happy that things are coming to an end. You feel the same, even though you need to sort your own worries out and decide whether you will keep on doing this or not.

Jaebum tells you to think about your own satisfaction first, that people around you shouldn’t put a cub on your life. He says this job is like any other job, that your intentions are one of a girl who wants to protect her family.

You wish you could agree with him.

--

“We will start in ten.” The staff runs everywhere. It’s never easy to film a scene in a shower. The fake bathroom is grey and white, with a big walk-in shower and the glaze walls leave no intimacy. It’s beautiful yet scary, giving you chills as you imagine the things you’ll do there.

Jaebum is absolutely unfazed, his headphones deep into his ears and head bobbing to the music. You don’t get why they insist on fixing his hair, but he doesn’t complain and almost falls asleep, the hair-stylist scolding him for not tilting his head properly.

Your phone rings, making you edge on your seat. It’s unusual for your mother to call you in the middle of the day considering she doesn’t want to bother you.

You greet her and understand something is not right when you hear her raspy voice. “Is everything okay?” you utter, trying to keep the conversation as private as possible.

Your mother sighs and coughs, and you can hear shuffling, like she is moving way too much. “I received the money today, I wanted to thank you.” She stops to cough, but you can hear her chuckle. “Sorry to disturb you!” she finishes in the middle of sniffs.

“You’re not disturbing me but are you okay? You sound sick.” She does sound different and you’re definitely not stupid. Something is wrong with her.

She stops coughing right away. “I’m fine. I just caught a cold, but I’m fine!” You know her. She doesn’t want you to worry about her health. You mother has always been this way; she always acts like everything is okay.

Maybe it’s a mother thing.

“Did you eat? Did you go to the doctor? I can send more money?” You propose, your heart-rate increasing at the thought of your mother, alone and sick.

She laughs cutely, “I am okay. I’ll eat something when I feel less nauseous. Don’t worry about me.”

“How can I not? Take care of yourself, mom!” You can only scold her because you feel useless.

When was the last time you visited her? Maybe it’s because you send her money. Maybe you think it’s enough caring on your side and you don’t need to move because she can manage just fine with what you send her. You sigh loudly when she agrees briefly and hangs up - she knows you’re the nagging type - leaving you worried right before filming.

You can’t keep on thinking about your mother when you’re about to film a sex scene. You rest your face on your hands, sighing loudly.

You don’t notice Jaebum, who is now looking at you, brows raised. “What’s going on?” he asks, nodding toward you.

You look up and shake your head, “Nothing important,”. You get up and start stretching, your body suddenly stiff with worry. “my mother is sick.” You end up telling him, maybe because you consider him as a colleague now. It’s not like he can do anything about it anyways.

Jaebum gets up when the staff tells you it’s time to start, and while you walk away to find the crew, he follows suit, his eyes not leaving your tensed face.

How can you even do this now? You can’t focus on sex when you have constant images of your mother. Every step feels so heavy as you enter the bathroom. The staff is ready, the heater is blowing hot air and creating steam on every glass,

You sigh, hand fumbling with your bathrobe to untie it.

The director approaches you slowly, not even sensing something is wrong and frustrating you even more. “Chemistry. Remember?” he knows you so well. Everyone knows you’re not giving your all.

Maybe it’s not worth the effort, after all.

You remove the thick bathrobe and step in front of the shower. You don’t look behind you, for Jaebum must be about to get naked. You don’t need him to be cocky right now.

Even though you got used to it, you suddenly feel like crying for no reason.

You hear soft whispers and the sound of a camera flashing, before a cameraman steps next to you. Jaebum is right behind you, and you can feel his calm breathing, building goosebumps right at your nape.

“Action!” It makes you flinch, the way the voice echoes in the empty bathroom, you step into the now running water, followed by a cautious Jaebum. You don’t want to act like you like it. You hate it.

You turn around, sighing when the way too hot water hits your hair. Jaebum is right in front of you, walking carefully until you’re pressed against the wall. He halts, a warm hand grabbing your own cold one to kiss your fingers.

He got better at it. It’s not like him to be this soft, though.

You look up from your joined hands to his eyes, only to find them staring at you. He smiles cheekily and sticks his body to yours.

His whole body is already turning red from the hot water but he doesn’t seem to mind, and even leans to kiss the corner of your lips. You immediately wrap your stiff arms around his neck to bring him closer, eyes fluttering shut in hope it would make you focus on the task at hand.

Jaebum kiss his way to you jaw, then neck, before licking your collarbone. You shiver some more, but can’t find it in you to do something. You’re frozen, blank. It’s the first time you’re totally clueless, unmoving and pensive when you’re supposed to be moaning you heart out.

Jaebum notices it, and before the director can yell at you two to stop being such unprofessional people, he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze to get your attention.

“Relax, she will be fine,” He breathes, voice deeper than ever. You blink back, a subtle nod telling him you will focus. Jaebum smiles, his face comforting and peaceful “now kiss me.”

You don’t know why you comply, but you do. Maybe it has to do with the way he looked at you, and how it made you forget about everything else for a moment. You don’t have the time to think about it further as his hands grab your face to tilt your head and deepen the kiss.

It makes you hum in pleasure, and you can almost hear the relieved sighs of the crew around you. Jaebum’s tongue curls against yours, his thumbs caressing your cheeks to make you calm down.

You almost melt, the water soaking you two and running against your faces. He parts from you with a heavy sigh, a little bit embarrassed to be turned on by such a tiny move. His hands leave your face, but his eyes don’t move. They are locked, making you wonder what he is thinking.

He never looks at you with such intensity.

You blink, hands going to his sides to bring his body closer to yours. He doesn’t complain, letting you do whatever you feel is needed without a hint of arrogance. You caress his skin, looking down when you can’t stand his burning gaze anymore. Your fingers graze every part of his skin it can reach, from his hips to shoulders. He offers his body, and you guess he finally stopped looking at you when he goes back to your neck, sighing.

He likes it, he likes it for real. Jaebum doesn’t know how to act this soft. You might not know him that well, but his style is precise. He does things because it’s what he is supposed to do. Right now, he is doing things out of pure will and impulsiveness.

You thought you would find it weird if he ever decided to act like someone who cares because it doesn’t suit him. So why is it that you’re enjoying it more than you should?

You even hug him closer, not even conscious enough to notice the cameraman filming your connected pelvises. Your head finds shelter into his chest, and your lips part against his toned chest, offering open mouthed kisses and soft licks.

Jaebum softly grabs your leg and wraps it around him, his other hand tracing a pattern until it reaches you breast. He gives it a soft squeeze right before his thumb starts toying with your nipple. You gasp against him, your head now a mess of drenched locks and dripping water.

You lean against the wall, your hands around his shoulders so you can wrap yourself around him totally. He gets the hint and before you can ask for more, his hand aims for your belly. “Shall we go down…?”

Yes. You want to say yes. Too many unexpected things are happening. You’re almost shaking, even though the air is suffocating and steam is everywhere around you.

You don’t have the time to speak and prefer not to, because his hand is already going down at an amazingly slow pace, so unlike the Jaebum who is impatient and carnivorous.

He kisses you when his fingers land on your clit. They are burning, even more than your own body who almost collapses on the tiled floor. He swallows your moans and dips further into your flesh, brushing your folds yet not entering you.

You shudder when he grabs your leg with his free hand to pull it apart from him and raise it higher. He nibbles on your lip before licking it and right when you thought you were safe, brings a finger into you.

You almost hit your head against the wall, and you don’t even care that water is entering your opened mouth, because he is kissing his way down to your chest. You try to focus but before you reach for his penis he moves away, clicking his tongue in a disapproving manner.

“Not yet, princess.”

Maybe it’s time to freak out. Princess? Is Jaebum really into his character or is he turning into a madman right now, during a shower sex scene for a porn movie?

He dives further, teeth careful around your breasts, sides and navel. It almost hurts, because it twitches everywhere, from his finger deep inside of you to his wandering lips.

You open your eyes right on time for the cameraman to focus on your ecstatic face, and you refuse to admit you’re not even acting. You’re actually turned on to the point of unconsciously rotate your hips against his playful hand

You feel him smirk and when he looks up, you understand he isn’t playing. You don’t need to be a genius to notice how hard he already is, no matter how neglected his penis had been. He kisses your lower abdomen one last time, before raising your leg higher.

Curiosity gets the best of you so you stare back in shock as the sensuous man pulls out of you to lick his finger, before bringing it back to your pussy lips. By now you know you’re not only wet from the water falling from the ceiling’s shower head. Jaebum feels it, and it makes him smile sweetly, before his impatience gets the best of him.


You refuse to see more when his head goes for your clit. You focus on the pleasure, realizing it’s even more disturbing.

Jaebum knows he should tone it down. He isn’t one to act like this for a movie, no matter how soft they want him to be. So far he had been everything but the gentle type of guy and it was fine by him. He didn’t ask for this movie and most certainly didn’t think it would turn this way.

It’s making him too vulnerable, not because he isn’t acting like himself, but because he is doing exactly what he would do in a sincere and romantic situation.

Which is why he wants to focus on hard-core porn, where no strings are involved and he can pound his way into co-actresses from movies to movies. He got famous for that, so why should he suddenly become the caring type?

He knows why, and it’s the same reason why he started feeling pleasure beyond physical stimulation.

Yet he doesn’t stop, enjoying you breaking in front of him, and relieved he was able to make you think about something else. It shouldn’t matter, he should play his part and not even mind your business, but he knows himself too well to fool his brain.

Him acting like this has only one meaning, one he is willing to put aside for numerous reasons.

The first one is that you think he is a weirdo. The second one that he is a porn actor. The third one is that you are, too, a porn actress. The list could go one for hours, and through the scenes and interactions, he wonders when was the moment he started being too thoughtful about his job and less professional.

Heck, he didn’t even care about you. He isn’t one to fall for sex. It’s his bloody job, he should be immune to this kissing and licking.

Yet he is on his knees, with way too hot water burning his back and lips kissing your pussy like he enjoys it.

And oh does he enjoy it. He is rock hard. He wants to slap himself when he concludes he truly wants to make you see stars. Not because he has to, not because he gets paid for it, but because he finds pleasure and excitement in seeing you shudder.

He even adds a second and third finger, and even though your thigh is getting heavy, he lifts it as much as he can so he can go deeper, and praises himself when you moan out loud.

“Wait, I’m-“ You choke the words, tongue-tied and hands flying to grab his hair and stop him from rubbing his tongue harder against you.

Eventually he stops and slows his pace. His fingers are sloppy now but he doesn’t completely stop, focused on the task yet glancing up when you pull his wet locks away from his face.

You look down, breathless. Jaebum is right there, eyes on you and fingers twisting inside you. His cheeks are a light shade of pink from the heat and even the water seems non-existent as your hands touch his cheeks to caress them.

When was the last time he looked so adorable and soft? 


Never.

“Come here.” You command, blaming the heat for your overwhelmed state. Surprisingly he complies, standing up and instantly sticking his body against yours. He lets your leg fall before grabbing your face with a more familiar harshness and kissing you.

It’s passionate. If the staff wanted chemistry, they have it. You hear gasps, like you’re doing a great job and it’s true, Jaebum is doing just great as he grasps your hips and slowly turns you around.  He hugs you, your wet back against his burning chest and leads you to one of the glaze wall. The steam on the glass turns into indecent prints of your body against the transparent surface. The cameraman rushes behind it to focus on the parts where your breasts press against the hard wall, praising himself for the somewhat artistic effect.

Jaebum attaches himself, raging puffs of air tingling the back of your ear. His hard-on is solid against your butt-cheeks but he teases, rubbing himself slowly. He lets his forehead rest on your shoulder so he can watch himself disappear between the two round and delicious-looking pieces of flesh. You arch your back to meet his moves and it suddenly gets too much for him.

He wants to break you until his mere existence never leaves your damn mind.

You let out a delighted sigh when he bites on your shoulder and almost twerk against him. He grunts and it turns into a whine when the tip of his penis starts twitching. He needs to finish this before something incredibly embarrassing happens.

So he penetrates you to the hilt. He slides in so easily it turns in on even more, the probability of you being aroused enough to initiate slow and hard thrusts against your slippery flesh.

You throw your head back, breathing out and creating more steam on the glass. His hands grip your hips with too much gentleness. His thrusts are long yet firm, with a slight pressure to rub against your inner walls yet soft enough to make you crave for more.

His head doesn’t leave your shoulder, and he even dares asking for kisses, which you give him willingly, head twisting until it almost hurts just so you can have a taste. Inevitably, he goes faster, one of his hand reaching for your clit to make you squirm.

“Jae- bum-” He kisses you harder so the staff doesn’t hear you say his name, but deep inside he is close. He is close because you’re moaning his name and the sound only makes him want to do things no one else should see.

Jaebum doesn’t care about the cameras. He never did, he never had any problems with showing himself, he who gives too little importance to appearance. Let it be one or twenty cameras, he doesn’t give a damn shit and even more now, with you pressed against him and pushing against his dick to impale yourself on it.

You don’t even notice your little slip, your thoughts clouded by the upcoming orgasm.

It’s only natural that he speaks against your mouth, breathless. “Cum with me.” He isn’t ordering around, he is being the needy Jaebum, the one who fails at being cocky when he is about to ejaculate.

You grab his free hand before it becomes too much to handle. Your fingers fit perfectly against his, and while you’re holding the wall with your free hand, he brings your joined hand to your chest, collecting you against him and offering one last push.

You end up finishing at the exact same time, with soft moans and it’s a mess of wriggling and shaking. Jaebum helps you stay up and you freeze, the endorphins way too effective to keep your eyes opened.

“Cut!”

You don’t even hear the director, but you open your eyes right on time to look at the cameraman who is running back to the staff.

“Great work!”

You straighten your back, almost forgetting about where you are but Jaebum is quick to move, emptying you totally and making you shiver some more. The staff stops the water and it’s suddenly too silent.

“You okay…?” You wonder why he is still way too close to your face, but you decide not to ruin everything so you nod.

When you turn around, he is smiling. “Good.”

You run away as fast as you can.

-

[shewolfofficial]

could you do a scenario where levis s/o is a princess but she runs away and joins the survey corps but the twist is she dresses just like a guy and changed her name and one day she confesses then levis like uh im not gay then she reveals shes a girl and that shes a princess

Warnings: Cursing

F/N - Fake Name

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

You were a princess behind the walls and you hated it. Your mother was to make you wed some creep next month, one thing, you could tell he was a perverted freak plus he looked around 60 so no way were you going to get your life ruined like this.

So you ran away.

Leaving everything you had known behind.

And you joined the Scouts, deciding to dress up as a male to keep your identity a secret in case your mother were to find out. And while you were in the Scouts you met the love of your life, Levi Ackerman.

Since you dressed as a male you found it hard sometimes, especially when it came to sleeping in a room with 20 other guys you being the only female.

// Time Skip \

You knocked on Levi’s door gently ‘’name and business’’ he barked from the inside ‘’it’s F/N sir, personal reasons’’ you shortly heard a ‘’enter’’ come from the male. Walking in and shutting the door behind you ‘’what do you want cadet?’’ Levi questioned noticing your nervous form ‘’you look like you’re going to shit yourself F/N’’ he added as he crossed his arms. ‘’Uhm.. screw it..’’ you muttered.

‘’Sir.. I love you’‘ you blurted out, Levi raised an eyebrow at you ‘‘cadet I hope you know I am not gay’‘ Levi growled ‘‘dismiss-’‘ he was cut off. ‘‘No sir you don’t understand’‘ you didn’t care when you cut him off, reaching up and pulling off that wretched wig that tormented you for months letting your H/C fall freely.

Levi’s eyes widened an inch, sitting up straight ‘’F/N… you’re a fucking female!? Wait you look identical to that princess Y/N how the fuck..’’ he asked standing up and leaning against his desk. ‘’Sir I am princess Y/N I’m the heir to the throne, I came here to escape a horrible planned marriage by my mother she was setting me up with a dirty perverted man. I couldn’t take it anymore so I came here… and I met you… that’s when I fell in love..’’ your face reddened. ‘’Y-Y/N your mother will find your here eventually..fuck you did some good acting though’’ Levi chuckled silence pouring into the room for a few seconds ‘’when this is all over.. run away with me corporal and please don’t let the Military pigs find out, my mother is close with their commander and once she finds me she’ll immediately force me to marry someone I don’t love’’ you panicked, Levi stood in silence while you were becoming more and more anxious from how long he wasn’t responding for.

‘‘Alright Y/N..’’ Levi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. ‘‘I’ll run away with you when this shit is all over.. I’ll tell Erwin and Hanji knowing they wouldn’t tell a soul.. you’re safe with me princess’‘ Levi smirked at you watching tears perk at the corner of your eyes. You run to him engulfing him in a hug ‘‘thank you! thank you! thank you! I owe you one Levi!’‘ you cried gleefully into his shoulder, Levi hugged you back.

‘‘You can repay me back by becoming my wife one day when we win against those titan bastards’‘ Levi smiles lightly, you nod eagerly smiling at him.