#I had an idea for a starting point and a silly thing

[shmeddieshmunson]

Roughhousing

Summary: Eddie Munson is a roughhouser without an off switch, and it eventually gets him into a sticky situation with his best friend when a wrestling match goes... Unexpectedly.

Cute and fluffy bestfriend! Eddie. This idea has been rotting my brain for years at this point, and I wanted to expand it from the silly blurb it previously existed as. I'd happily write more for this that could easily get smutty if people want it, but otherwise it'll stay a dreamy silly little one shot.

Eddie x Reader. 2nd person POV, no y/n or gendering of reader. Swearing. Smoking. non-explicit NSFW.

Word count: ~2.5k

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Eddie Munson roughhouses all the time, with anyone who will roughhouse back, at every opportunity.

“Race you to the street sign!” and he’s nothing but an echo of thundering steps as he bolts.

He’s shoved every one of his friends into a bush, several times over. Leapt into a few himself.

He’ll arm wrestle at the slightest provocation, or to solve any problem. 

“NOT IN THE KITCHEN!!” is frequently heard being hollered by Wayne in the Munson household.

Wrestling, tag, jumping up to touch ceilings, jamming himself in dumb places, climbing things, throwing shit– just shoving and smacking and being physically playful all the time. He’s covered in weird knicks and bruises constantly, because he interacts with the world and his friends so tactilely. 

Especially you, because you always play his games. You sling whatever shit he’s on right back at him, and he loves it. Two peas in a pod, duking it out happily.

Tonight wasn’t particularly different from any other night over the last year or so. He had come over to yours after his shift, where Steve and Robin were already hanging out. He’d walked in halfway through some terrible movie, reeking of the joint he smoked in his van moments prior. 

“Anyone wanna smoke?” He smiled with his whole face, not bothering with formal hellos as he pulled out another already rolled joint. General babblings of agreement had him lighting it quickly and passing it to Robin. With a new smokey warmth to the room as it circulated, he finally settled a little bit more, still not bothering to try and get hooked into the movie he’d missed so much of. 

So he talked through the rest of it.  

Throwing popcorn at the screen when the characters wouldn't turn around to see what you all could, treating it like his own personal Mystery Science Theater 3000. Although you feigned annoyance at first, shushing him and rolling your eyes, you were cracking up and riffing on the movie with him within minutes. Mocking and mimicking the lackluster line deliveries, pointing out the boom mic in shots. Reenacting the awful action sequences. All four of you giggling non-stop, but the two of you deeper in the shenanigans, as usual.

He started to smack your hand every time you reached into the popcorn bowl– like a game of Whack-A-Mole. 

You were cackling as a piece of popcorn threatened to come out of your nose, yet reached back into the bowl, assaulted with another flurry of slaps and grabbing. You smacked his hand back, hard, and he whipped his head at you with a fire in his eyes– like the opening gun shot of a race had been fired. He grabbed your wrist, and you grabbed his right back, and you were nearly instantly in a whirlwind of escalation. Steve nudged you off the couch subtly as you grappled, knowing where this was going. He didn’t feel like refereeing your daily wrestling match in his stoney state, the couch was way too comfy to be the mat tonight. 

“Hands off my fucking popcoooorn!!” he wailed, as he hooked his leg around yours and tumbled you both fully to the ground.

“It’s my– fucking– popcorn!” you grunted out as you leveled him next to you and locked his arm against your body. “You’re literally in my house!” you spat the sentence in the moment of reprieve you had from pinning him.

He wiggled and writhed, squirming right out from under you. “Slippery fucker…” you growled. The two of you rolled around like a tornado on the ground, knocking into the table, Steve and Robin occasionally yelling things you weren’t paying attention to. Though, you thought you caught a, “get his ass!” from Robin as you rolled over top again. 

Oh, you had gotten him this time. You had gotten him so good. 

You locked your other leg over him, successfully trapping him in the Full Nelson you were going for. You yelled in victory, squeezing him and laughing, your face nestling between his face and shoulder at this angle, a mocking “WOOO!” in the style of Ric Flair ringing in his ear. The entire back of his body pressed against your front. And he stopped squirming. Like… full body tense, not moving a muscle, stopped squirming. You weren’t even sure he was breathing anymore. You instantly let go of the pressure you had him with, all the silliness of the moment gone. It’s fun when you’re playing, but you feel like something went wrong.

“Whoa… dude, you okay?” you ask, working to untangle yourself from him. He comes back to in a funny moment, and starts fumbling and tripping and trying to untangle himself too. His frantic movements are making it so much worse though, and Steve and Robin start to question and gather too, uselessly trying to help unfurl the pretzel you two are in. You’re baffled as he’s kicking and thrashing, trying to scoot away while still half leg locked, anxious sounds falling out of his mouth now. 

Is he blushing? No, you’re sure you’re red in the face too from the match. 

But then you see it. 

He sees you see it.

Eddie’s got a boner.

The avalanche of words that comes tumbling out of him is barely coherent to begin with, and you couldn’t possibly fathom listening to a single word of it right now anyways. Robin is rambling back at him, their voices competing, and you’re sure she’s probably trying to help. 

You’re also pretty sure she has no idea what’s going on at all, because she might shut the fuck up if she had noticed. Or maybe she did notice and isn’t shutting the fuck up to try to divert some attention? Either way, you’re failing miserably to stop staring like you’re internally screaming at yourself to do. But your eyes are drawn like a moth to a porch light. You look back and forth between the tent he has pitched in his pants, and his completely feral and fearful face a couple of times. You open your mouth and close it again, not being able to push a single word out of your throat. He’s finally physically separated from you, gets out from under Robin’s momentarily immobilizing beratement of worry, and flees out of the room faster than you’ve seen him cross any frivolous finish line. 

You're literally slack jawed, still completely speechless. But you can feel your heart pounding, and the hotness of your now certainly blushing face. You’re not sure you’re breathing. Or you’re breathing way too heavily. You can’t tell. 

All you know is that it is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to you in your life. 

You make the mistake of looking over at Steve and Robin, who are all eyebrows and wide eyes. 

“What happened?” “What did you do?” their voices collide in your head. “Is he hurt?” “Are you okay?” They’re rapid firing questions, and you start to try to answer them with the nothing that you know.

“I don’t know, I don’t know! I DON’T KNOW!!” your voice starts out soft, but is battling their volume quickly. “I really don’t know I just– we were just– and then I– and he just STOPPED and–” it’s your turn to ramble. Your hands are flailing, and you swat at Robin who’s standing over you. She grabs your hand and yanks you up, and neither of you are listening at all while the heated and chaotic discussion continues. 

You can’t get the image of his jeans, so tight and bulging in the crotch, out of your head. 

You blink at Robin, realizing neither one of you had spoken for a few seconds. You look at Steve, whose eyebrows are disappearing under the flop of his bangs. And you swear there’s a knowing twinkle in his eye now. He’s been conspicuously quiet for a minute. He glances towards the dark abyss of the unlit hallway Eddie had scuttled into, then back at you, finishing his silent diatribe with a bitchy head bob. After a moment of processing, you stride towards the hallway. Steve rolls his eyes and pulls Robin back down onto the couch with him. At least he’s a good whisperer, nothing but an occasional hushed murmur from him. A louder “What?!” gets loudly and disbelievingly whispered by Robin, but Steve shushes her and keeps gossiping in her ear. 

You step into the rectangle of light on the floor of the hallway, half obscured by the darkness now. “Eddie..?” you call uncertainly.

“Please fuck right off,” he pleads from down the hallway to your left. You immediately take a few more strides in that direction, and as your eyes begin to adjust, you can just barely make out his fluffy headed silhouette slumped against the wall. “Fuck, seriously… Please leave me alone,” he says again, but you can hear how half hearted it is. At least you hope that’s what you’re hearing as you close the distance. You lean against the wall across from him.

“Dude… I… Are you okay?” you awkwardly ask. But it’s earnest. The sigh he lets out would sound dramatic in so many other contexts. But it’s earnest, too.

“No! Fucking, I mean… yes? Shit, I…” you can hear the embarrassment oozing off his tongue while he struggles to find words. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my fucking life,” he finally mutters. If the hall lights were on you know he still wouldn’t look you in the eye right now, and you can hear him nervously shifting around. You can picture the way he might be anxiously playing with his hair.

“Hey man, it’s really okay. Shit happens. You don’t have to be embarrassed, it’s just… me… ” you offer, and you mean it, but it kinda stings to say it. 

It’s just you… You, his permanent buddy system. You, the heel to his babyface in your wrestling matches. You, his flirting sparring ring. You, his never anything too serious. You, his touchy feely best friend. And you maybe start to get an inkling of why that stung to say out loud… 

You, who is starting to realize that you may already be helplessly head over heels. You, who’s feeling like a real dumbass right now.

He huffs out a laugh. “Just you…” he says with a sadness wrapped in a little zing of sarcasm, and you think maybe he can read your mind while you stare at his shape in the dark. You can see the glimmer of his eyes now that yours have fully adjusted to the lack of light. The TV turned back on in the other room is a dull background noise compared to the pounding of your heart that feels like it’s rattling your whole skeleton. 

The next moments of silence weigh on you both heavily while your minds race separately. It’s like horses running a race next to each other– fit with blinders that keep them in their own lane, galloping hooves showing no signs of slowing. 

“I just–” you start, but you hear his voice at the same time and you both stop. Another moment of silence ticks by.

“Christ on a stick…” he mutters, and pushes off the wall to stand. He inhales and exhales deeply, and you’re literally waiting with bated breath. “We both know what happened,” he finally says, clearly working to have his voice come out somewhat steady. “And I’d be perfectly happy to never talk about it again.” His voice cracks a little on the word happy, but he musters the rest of the sentence. 

“I… wouldn’t be…” you say in a low voice, and you’re not sure if you actually said that out loud or not.

Something almost like a ‘huh?’ comes out of him, and he splutters through a few more sounds. He waits for an elaboration, which you deem totally fair. Where the fuck are you going with this?

“It’s just…” you hesitate, but you’re already this deep into it. “That’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Welp. That’s out there now, I guess. 

Your ears are ringing, but you’re picturing his straining pants again and think you might be suffocating in the silence. 

A breathy sound comes from his side of the hall. Then another. A rhythmic low toned sound cuts through the ringing, and you realize he’s chuckling. He’s chuckling at you right now. You just admitted this horrifying thought to him, and he’s laughing at you?

A few moments of mortification later, you’re starting to crack and chuckle too.

“What?!” you demand, but his laughter only gets more boisterous. The sound of it relieves you more than you were prepared for. Your shoulders relax a little, and you two are giggling almost like usual together.

“You tell me that me popping a boner while we wrestle is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to you, and you expect me not to laugh a little?” he teases you. 

“How are you turning this back on me?! You’re the one who popped a boner while being Full Nelson-ed, and I'm the one who’s being laughed at?!” You two slip back into your banter and bickering so easily, it’s one of the most natural things in the world. You hear what might be a laugh in the other room, and then a smack and more shushing, but neither of you pay it much mind. 

“It’s a little sad, honestly,” Eddie snickers.

“Sad?! What’s sad?”

“That something hotter than that has never happened to you.”

You gasp and scoff in offense that is half real and half exaggerated. “Like you’ve had it any better, loser” you quip.

“Oh, me and lefty have it better every night, thinking about you,” he coos. He seems almost entirely back to himself– the words are clearly a joke, but still a little more frantic and on edge than his usual theatrics. 

“A loser and a liar,” you laugh a little shrilly. Your heartbeat has not settled at all. Where the fuck is the line of joking and seriousness right now? You realize you’ve never wondered that– you, his never anything too serious. It’s only ever been a joke.

And he doesn’t respond– he just takes the one step closer that is still between you, grabs your face, and kisses you. That feels pretty certainly like not a joke. 

You absolutely scramble at the sudden unexplored contact exploding between you two. But for the first time since you stopped wrestling… Not a single fiber of your being hesitates. It feels like the missing puzzle piece. You wonder how you’ve spent so many nights with this boy not kissing him. His soft lips mashing into yours feels like the moment an orchestra tunes and reaches harmony. Clashing, sloppy, harmony.

He pulls away briefly, “not a loser…” he mumbles into your mouth and kisses you again, “and not a liar…” he kisses you one more time, and then presses his forehead to yours. You share heavy breaths for a few minutes. Giggling, and breathing hard, and smooching, and fumbling over each other.

“Maybe still a loser… But I like you that way.” He can hear the smile in your voice as you say it, and he smiles back, laughing some more.

Eddie Munson is a roughhouser… but he’s a surprisingly soft kisser. 

You laugh again as you think to yourself how doomed that is to last as you kiss him again.

[oh-phoenixx]

my view of the marauders' parents !!

james: euphemia and fleamont my LOVES <3 i think they're obviously very open and understanding, but i reckon they still had their issues. james was such an independent child that they kind of thought he could take care of himself and sometimes all he wanted was his parents. not that they weren't there, they just didn't realise they had to be.

sirius and regulus: quite obvious, they were very abusive BUT they loved their children. they were caught in a cycle of abuse and had no idea how to show the love they felt for sirius and regulus as it had never been shown to them. there are no excuses for abuse but if there's any explanation it's theirs.

peter: his parents loved him and wanted what was best for him, but they sort of lived vicariously through him and so projected all their goals onto him and unintentionally made him feel like a failure.

remus: seemingly unpopular opinion but lyall and hope were both great parents. lyall loved remus SO much. i reckon he was quite stoic and didn't express himself very well, but he loved remus and hope more than anything. hope tended to dote on remus, as a lot of parents of children with disabilities/illnesses do (*cough* speaking from experience as an autistic person *cough*). she was a little overbearing, but she meant well.

lily: someone said something about her parents being religious and that's stuck with me. i don't think they would be okay with her being queer, and i think their love always feels conditional to her. i think at some point they start to favour petunia because she does everything expected of her, which is the final straw in pulling the sisters apart.

marlene: in my head she's a halfblood and her mum is very religious as well. i think she has a bunch of siblings (like five) so her parents' attention always feels divided. they're not bad parents necessarily, but marlene would be so ready to move out (okay this might just be tcoptp marlene).

mary: i feel like she's a halfblood and her mum was the witch, but she died, so mary's got a muggle dad, step-mother and step-sister (stealing from tcoptp again) and she just feels really ignored, like her dad stopped caring after he met her step-mother. she's a daddy's girl at heart tho. also she has a little brother who's only a year younger than her named eric (referencing my own fanfic here :3).

barty: barty crouch sr. when i catch you barty crouch sr. his dad has insane expectations for barty yet doesn't show any pride when barty actually achieves these goals. normally he's more neglectful than abusive. his entire life is his job, and he doesn't show any love for barty or his mum. barty spent so long just trying to make his father proud, but at some point realised he never would, so he did everything possible to rebel against him. barty's mother loves him so much, and the only reason barty doesn't run away is because he can't leave her. they're very close but barty sometimes feels bitter that she doesn't stop his dad from acting the way he does (but he knows realistically there's not much she can do).

evan and pandora: think what you will about their parents, in my head they are loving, silly, and strange. they enable evan and pandora to do all their little experiments and fun things because they're the exact same way. they're the effie and monty of the skittles. they definitely dote on felix, and it sort of seems like they favour him, but they just feel guilty because both of his older siblings are away all of the time and so he's on his own. they're a little unhinged, probably the type of parents to ask their kids' friends weirdly invasive questions, but they're just odd.

emmeline: for some reason i have this hc that emmeline and barty are childhood friends. i don't know any canonical information about emmeline, so idk if this is directly contradicted in any way, but in my head emmeline's dad works at the ministry which is how emmeline and barty know each other. emmeline's dad is quite strict and overprotective, and her mum sort of lives vicariously through her. emmeline sometimes feels a little suffocated around them, but she's close to them since she doesn't have to see them very often. if she was living with them full time, they would definitely have a tense relationship. also emmeline has a younger sister who starts hogwarts when she's in fifth year.

dorcas: her mother had her when she was really young and her father wasn't ready to raise a child so she raised dorcas alone. she blames dorcas for ruining her life, since she'd had loads of dreams and plans she'd had to put on hold for dorcas's sake. dorcas has a really strange relationship with her because sometimes she's really loving, and the next second they're screaming at each other (dna guarantee is literally their song btw).

[lemonmangosorbet]

meeting mister Harry Lloyd at Power Con on March 8th 2025, a thread! 🧵

copying my entire thread from twitter into one big text post here on tumblr for the benefit of those of you who do not use twitter!

however, you can view this thread on twitter or on bluesky if you'd like! enjoy! :3

first off, myself and Lydia were the first at his table when the con opened at 9am. we almost ran straight to his table lmao. it did not take long for a queue to build for his table and start going around the corner, longest queue for any of the guests at the con

the guests are never there when the con first opens, I don't know why lmao. but the staff were getting nervous when they saw Harry's queue getting really long. I believe Harry got to his table at about 9:30am?

he rocked up dressed really cosy and drinking a coffee. before he even got settled at his table he went to see who all the other guests at the con were and I think that was a very sweet thing for him to do :')

once he got to his table, Harry immediately said hi to us and chatted to us while he got set up! it was sweet that he was still happy to chit-chat with us whilst he was getting ready

it was really funny because he started looking at the photos on the table of the characters he'd played and he was like "hmm, oh yeah!" like he'd forgotten some of the characters he's played??? sdfghjk- incredible man

so Lydia kindly let me go first to meet Harry and he was like "oh you're wearing a Viktor t-shirt! what does it say? glorious ovulation???" and he started laughing and was like "I haven't seen that before" THIS MAN IS SO OFFLINE, IT'S INCREDIBLE

he also said "who would have thought Viktor would become such a sex symbol?" and I wanted to scream- he has no idea! this man does not know what fans are doing to Viktor's cervix sdfghjk

I started off by showing him the Jayvik ita bag I put together for the con & I told him it DID NOT contain all the Jayvik merch I own. he was seriously impressed, not at my ita bag but at how many people have made merch of Jayce & Viktor & Jayvik, so well done Jayvik artists! :')

he was like "this is amazing. where did you get all these?" he was so impressed by everyone's work- I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH.

I started telling him about how I've been collecting Jayvik merch since 2022 and he wanted to know more, so I explained how I watched Arcane s1 in Jan 2022 and I said "and then Jayvik took over my life" and he just listened to me, and appreciated how much they mean to me :')

so then he wanted to know my reaction to s2 and I was like "are you kidding? I woke up every Saturday at 7am with Netflix ready to watch the new act drop at 8am" and he was smiling and laughing and fucking fangirling over my dedication lmao

he wanted to know my reaction to Jayce & Viktor's ending and I explained how I had not expected it at all. I know enough league lore that I thought Jayce and Viktor would fight and Jayce would remain in Piltover and Viktor would go back to Zaun, and they'd remain enemies-

so to get them deciding to choose each other and finish it together, I just cried like a baby. Harry was gushing the entire time I spoke, and when I mentioned Jayce and Viktor choosing each other, he was like "and the hug!!!!" 😭💖

he literally was fujoing out with me, it was kinda insane how happy he was to sit there and listen to me talk about Jayvik sdjfgsjfg- one of us! one of us!

next I decided to give him gifts. I gave him this patch made by Fi-Fi as a gift from them and he was so impressed and he was like "thank you Fi-Fi!" 😭💖

as a gift from me, I gave him my Jayvik sticker (which I made in 2022 lol) but he was like "you made this?!" and I was like "yeah, I drew it" and he replied "wow! it's so professional!" I still cannot believe he said that about my art and I'm just a silly little guy!!!! 😭💖

so by this point I was stressing tf out bc I'd already been talking to him for SO LONG, his queue was huge & going around the corner, and I still had so much to show him sdfghjkl

next I showed him my Jayvik plushies by inkalope and he was fucking obsessed. he really loved the Viktor one 😭💖 I was almost scared he wasn't going to give it back to me hahaha

when we took a photo with them, I asked which one he wanted to hold and he was like "definitely Viktor" lmaoooo :') just look at his face!!! he was so happy 😭💖

so now one of the members of staff was getting stressed with me and was like "what do you have to sign???" and I was like "one more thing" and I showed Harry the trans Viktor flag, also by inkalope

now.... Harry read it "Viktor is transgender" and then he said "oh, Viktor is trans everything" let's just say... I lost my mind!!!! so Viktor trans masc, trans femme, all the genders and all of them trans confirmed?! sdfghjkl

so now the member of staff was getting real pissed off with me sdhgffsjfg- they were like (in a much more stern tone) "what are you getting signed???" and I was like "yes, I have paid for 3 signatures" sdfghjkjhgfd

first I asked Harry to sign this gorgeous print I got from jadedlyco last year. he agreed that the artwork is beautiful :')

I can't believe he wrote "thank you for everything" like, I feel he really appreciated everything I showed him and gave to him and talked to him about 😭😭😭💖

I also can't believe he wrote "fan no.1" bc I was the first in the queue sjfgsjhf- I told him he was definitely gonna get me in trouble with other Viktor fans lmaoooooo

second I asked him to sign my copy of the Jayvik zine from 2022- he IMMEDIATELY started flicking through it and was like "wow" - again, he was just in awe of all the creative work of the Jayvik fandom

I think if we'd had more time, he would have liked to look through it properly, but the member of con staff was really keen for us to hurry up by this point

I did explain I was in the zine...but the spicy section that's digital only, and the member of staff was like "oh, maybe you can look that up later?" (I think they cheered up) & Harry was like "yeah" sdgjfgshf??? anyway, glad he appreciates the Jayvik smut we're creating too lmao

OH ALSO- I couldn't decide where to ask him to sign it and he said "I don't want to sign the front because I don't want to ruin the beautiful art on the front cover" bless him!!!! 😭😭😭💖

he happily wrote the "only you" quote for me and I also explained that the zine raised thousands for Ukraine relief and he was amazed and in awe at that too!!! it's so sweet how amazed he is by everything the fandom creates and what we're able to achieve, like raising money 💖

thirdly, I asked Harry to sign one of his prints for one of my besties. they wanted the "Jaybe, or Jaybe not..." quote and Harry was like "yeaaaah" - I love that he's a guy that's not afraid to get silly with us fans!!!! :')

finally, I had my two selfies with him- I just love his expressions! he was so happy & I was so glad that I was the first person he met, & was able to start off his day with lots of laughter & smiles 💖 then I scurried away and tried to compose myself so Lydia could meet him lol

I will post about Harry's Q&A in another thread as this one is getting pretty long, but I'll finish off this one by talking about meeting him for the professional photo op!

we had to be fast- there were a lot of people who wanted a photo with him, and still people who hadn't met him at his table AND he had to leave early!!! it was a mad rush, but I was prepared...

I WILL BE CLEAR- if he had said "no, I can't hold either" I would have respected his decision. I don't want people in arcanetwt to spread lies that we 'forced' him into this. I gave him a choice between 2, but if he'd said 'no' I would have been fine with that

BUT- when he saw the "Jayvik? we ship it!" sign, he was like "we have to use this one, it's so funny" and that's how our photo came to be :')

and before I had to run off, I asked if I could have a hug and he said "of course" and I GOT TO HUG HARRY LLOYD???!!!! then I did have to run and I said how it had been so great meeting him that day! I'm sure he said "same to you" but I was running on so much adrenaline sdgjfgsh

I have tried to be as thorough as possible! I have a pretty good memory (I used to minute meetings at my office job, so remembering what people said is a skill I have lol) - if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask! you can submit them to my tumblr ask box

[sagesparrow394]

Okay I’m recording my reactions to Riptide 115 as I go, I feel like I should, this is a momentous occasion

Dopple-Gilly being slumped like Golden Freddy was way funnier to me than it should have been

I’m completely on board for a Chip goes to therapy arc

Oh??? The artificial leviathan is meant to cure the Black Sea? I don’t buy that as the only intention of making it, no way

OOOOOH PLANT ON LIZZIE’S CREW (I already knew that because I got spoiled on twitter lmao) My theory is Marshall John. He’s literally ex-RAFT who was weirdly easy to convince to turn to piracy, and was dead set on joining Lizzie’s crew specifically

I love that the Riptide crew are absolutely suffering on the Black Sea, meanwhile the Granberry pirates are literally partying rn

I WAS NOT EXPECTING JAY TO ASK TO DRAW A CARD LMAOOO

Gillion and Chip’s conversation is hitting right in the heart, man… THEY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER SO MUUUUCH!!! FISH AND CHIPS BABY

Jay’s expressions in the thumbnail of this episode made me think for so long that Chip and Jay were going to have a big argument or fight that made them decide to split up. I’m relieved to find out it’s not that, they’re just splitting up out of necessity, they’re all still good

“I love you, Jay.” “I love you, Chip.” aaaaAAAAAUGHHHHHH SOMEBODY SEDATE MEEEEE, FOUND FAMILY MY BELOVED

AND CHIP CALLING HER SURESHOT AUGH

Bye Jay, I’ll miss you ;-;

Aaaand immediately Chip and Gill are calling each other pookie and other pet names, of course as soon as Jay’s gone they start acting gay

Gillion/Charlie describing the ‘hole’ as ‘yawning’ is giving me The Big Swell flashbacks (QSMP I miss you)

oH GOD ANOTHER DARK PUCKERED HOLE EXTRACT, AND IM LISTENING WITH MY PARENTS IN THE ROOM AGAIN I CANT-

Knowing that Grizzly stepped away for FORTY MINUTES to go write something for this makes it so much more nerve wracking. Bro didn’t have this prepared, didn’t spend time editing, he just made this on the spot

Someone show Finn ao3, he would thrive there

Chip’s reactions makes it so much funnier to listen to

What the fuck is the ‘half-moon handy manoeuvre’

I wonder if, back in the Black Rose oneshot, Charlie had any idea this was what his character would come to be known for

‘THE DOLPHIN’S BLOWHOLE MANOEUVRE’ ‘WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN!!!!!’

‘I could not squeeze my mega-cum-blast any longer’ truly poetry

NOT THE ‘AND EVERYONE CHEERED’ ENDING

Horniness aside, there is something genuinely sad about Finn finding his true love in prison, and only getting to have one night together… Like that is heartbreaking

‘If the rest of my life was meant for this moment, then I wouldn’t have changed a thing’ this old fish man yaoi is making me tear up like wtf

Gillion gained +2 rizz from his grandfather’s sex book, that’s wild

:((((( Goodbye the Albatross

GOOBLECK!!! Every time he says something, I get so happy

30 POINTS OF DAMAGE FROM AN ARM WRESTLE?! HOLY SHIT

Bizly pulling the camera right up to his face and yelling ‘TO THE HELM BOY’ is so much funnier than it has any right to be

‘Heh, nice body count… BUT EVEN MY GRANDPA COULD DO BETTER!’ Gillion may not have liked reading Dark Puckered Hole, but at least it’s given us one liners like this

I fully expected this episode to be emotional from start to end, but nah, without Jay around to ground them, Chip and Gill have just descended into pure unfiltered silliness

“You’ve gotta stay on top, just like grandpeepaw” 🤨

GILLION 360 SPIN KICK! Dude’s been taking lessons from Dakota Cole

hE’S NOT A HOLLOWED???? GRIZZLY WHAT THE FUCK WHY WOULD YOU WAIT UNTIL GILLION KILLED HIM TO SAY THAT-

OH THANK GOD HE’S NOT DEAD

Into the hole in the sea we go…

“Welcome home” hUH??

aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAA BEING LEFT ON A CLIFFHANGER WITHOUT BEING ABLE TO JUST CLICK ON THE NEXT EPISODE SUCKS

‘You’re gonna be leaving me on that cliffhanger for six fucking months?!’ *stares at the 1 year ago video timestamp*

God I love this campaign

Finally… I can say those three words

I miss Riptide

Update: bro I was saving the Riptide Sea Shanty until I caught up with the campaign, and I just listened to it and now I’m actually crying… Seeing Ollie and Felipe… Hearing the whole crew sing together… I’m not okay man I miss these guys already

[masterserris]

Submas Fic: “We Will Meet Again” CH.5

My friend @eusouomar (Ingo) and I (Emmet) have been working together on an rp timeline!

This timeline is based on the concepts of Yin (Ingo) and Yang (Emmet) reincarnating through the ages, much to the surprise of the twins, and how to move forward knowing this and getting their lives back to normal after bringing Ingo home from Hisui. Shenanigans and fluff and angst ensue. Let it be known a happy ending is always the goal and the inevitable future. Enjoy!

Notes: NO SHIPPING in this fic.

General Warnings for the fic as a whole: strong language, depictions of mental illness, addiction, grief, violence/gore, character death, self harm, suicide mentions

MASTERPOST (TBD)

START

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

NEXT CHAPTER (TBD)

Happy Birthday!

Featuring art from @metrobound / @jugumpuppet !

Enjoy!

"Hmm, it's my birthday today." Ingo mused. He was doing training on another line with a depot agent. 

"Aw, happy birthday Boss! You two gonna do something special?" She asked.

 Ingo's heart nearly dropped in his chest. He had been in Hisui for nearly 30 years and had gotten used to spending it as a solitary person.

 "You okay, Black Boss?" The depot agent asked. 

"We. We have a birthday!" He pointed out. 

"Um, yeah. That's generally how twins work." She replied. 

"But I haven't gotten him anything! I've spent so much time in the past I forgot to buy Emmet a present!"

 "Oh is that all?" She laughed, "I know what you can get him." 

"Really? What?"

 "You of course!" 

Ingo frowned, "I am not a proper present." 

"Boss, I bet you $1,000 pokedollars that White Boss has wished for you for his birthday for the last five years."

Well, she was right of course. That much was verrrrrrry obvious. But it was a special day! Finally! He was back! Thankfully Ingo was on another train so Emmet could ditch out and get some things together. Ohhhh, it was hard planning something from your other half in secret, but it was so so sooo much fun! Decorations, hmm, food, yes. Presents? I had a few ideas. He giggled to himself at one of the ideas. Oh, the machinations of his mind were an enigma to be certain.

"I have to get him something." Ingo insisted. 

"WAiit. Wait. No. No, last time you left bad things happened." The depot agent pulled on his arm.

"I am in full control of my portals this time and I still have to get Emmet a present. I'd be a horrible brother if I didn't." He began to pull on his arms back.

"Let one of us get it. Just, stay here. We'll get a present, get it wrapped." She said.

Ingo shifted weight, "You can get him something tasteful?"

"Absolutely. It will be a hundred percent classy."

Ingo sighed and handed her quite a bit of money, "I expect change."

Silly Ingo. Well, Emmet had many surprises in store for Ingo later. It actually took a few hours to get everything and that was with him preordering and dashing around like a lunatic. But all the prep was done. He slipped back into Gear Station with less than an hour to spare before Ingo would get off of his training shift, so nothing looked too suspicious. 

"Here it is! Even wrapped as promised!" She presented it to Ingo.

"What is it?" Ingo asked, looking at the long rectangular box. It was wrapped in white wrapping paper with a black bow on it. The depot agent, who was only 5'1" had to get up on her tiptoes to whisper it to him, "Oh! That is very thoughtful. Thank you." Ingo nodded. She gave Ingo his left-over money.

"Try to have fun, Boss!" She waved when they parted ways in Gear Station. It left Ingo confused. He was having fun. Couldn't they tell? Shrugging he headed back to the office he and Emmet shared.

“Soooo, how’d it go today?” Emmet asked cheerfully, leaning back in his chair. “You know what today is, right?” 

"It went very well. It's coming back to me quickly now." Ingo nodded, "As a matter fact I do. Happy Birthday, Emmet." He presented the gift to his younger twin.

Emmet looked a little shocked, but smiled. “So you do remember!” He cheered. He looked at the gift and took it gratefully. “Thank you, Ingo. But you are already my gift. Your gift, however, is at home. Or should I say gifts?” 

It was a leftover from Hisui when they had so little that made Ingo blush at the fact that Emmet had given him gifts. Plural. "Oh, no. You don't have to get me anything." He told him, waving his hands.

“Bullshit, it’s been five years, that means five times the gifts. Now let’s go home!” He threw his coat back on and ruffled Ingo’s hair and hat playfully. “This isn’t optional.” 

He seemed to like ruffling his hair. Ingo returned the favor ruffling Emmet's hair and hat back.

"Birthdays were very simple in Hisui. Usually just a special meal with friends, maybe a gift of a tool or something useful. It wasn't like it is today."

“So? And?? Your point is?” Back at their condo when Emmet opened the door Ingo saw the whole place decorated. It was like a surprise party! On the table was a cake made at the best bakery in town with them and all of their Pokémon decorating it. Angel and devil food cake, of course with strawberry filling. But more than that. There were at least a dozen gift wrapped boxes all from Emmet addressed to Ingo. “Surprise!” He grinned. But that wasn’t all. Not yet at least. 

"I was just trying to make conversation and point out-" Ingo wasn't physically expressive so that should emphasize how surprised he was when his mouth dropped at seeing Emmet go all out. Most of this would've been beyond the dreams of most of the Pearl Clan. Maybe in the cities or the ultra-wealthy but none of this food had anything to do with survival. It was completely decadent and so touching. Holy shit there was more?

Emmet took Ingo’s hand and pulled him to the fire escape and onto the roof where everyone was waiting. Elesa, Drayden, some older depot agents, Drayton. It had been sooo sooo long since their last double birthday. Emmet had one last special present in a plain box. “Go on, open it.” Inside was an authentic Hisuian flute. “I found yours. It’s yours. From 200 years ago.” Sure enough, it had his initials carved on the back of it. The same flute he used to call Lady Sneasler that Irida had given him. 

Ingo clenched his brother's hand and followed him up onto the roof. What in the world-?

It seemed Emmet had managed to get everyone who was close to them. How long had it been? Well, it depended on who you asked. For Emmet it had been five years, for Ingo about thirty. He had almost forgotten what this felt like. Then Emmet gave him a plain box. Ingo's eyes widened as he saw the flute. No, there was no mistaking it, this was his flute. He knew every notch in it.

"How on Earth did you find this?" He asked Emmet. Even if his flute had survived, which it did, to the modern age Ingo would've sworn it would be in a museum. As for Emmet's gift that Ingo had gotten him, it contained a silver pocket watch. Part of the lid was concave so that Emmet could keep a photo in there if he wanted.

Emmet didn’t open his gift yet because he wasn’t done.

“One last gift,” he smiled. Palkia and Dialga peeled open a portal to the past. To see his old friends again one more time. So they knew he was okay. Irida waved and smiled. “So you found your man in white! I’m glad!” 

Adaman smiled with his arms crossed. “We missed you, but we are glad you are back where you belong.”

It must've been quite a shock to them to see Ingo so young again. It was certainly a shock for Ingo. 

"I did." He told them feeling himself tear up and gracing them with a full smile, "Thank you for understanding." Of course, he missed them but he didn't belong with them. He knew that then and he understood it now. The conductor in black turned to his twin to whisper his thanks. This might be one the best birthdays he had in a very, very long time.

“You take care of yourself, Warden Ingo. Lady Sneasler is well too. She is strong, like her old warden. And with a new litter of kittens too! In fact….” Adaman reached his arm cautiously across the space-time rift and handed Ingo an ancient pokeball. “She sends you her love.” 

A baby Hisuian shiny sneasel for him to raise. They all took some photos to always remember this day forever. Emmet would take it and put it in his pocket watch in the future. 

“Take care, Ingo! We love you!” Irida waved and the portal would close. Sneasel would be able to listen to the same tune and song from the same flute his mother listened to from the same Warden. It came with love. Everything stays, right where you left it. 200 years ago is now. 

Ingo was still smiling when he turned to Emmet, "This is the best birthday I've ever had."

He honestly meant it. It was bittersweet but in the best possible way. "I just...I know I must have said it a million times already but thank you. I can't begin to think how I can give you back as much as you gave me."

Emmet just pulled him into a warm hug and let them savor this moment. “We love you, Ingo. You’d do the same for me.” Everyone would go back inside to have cake and to open gifts. Everyone had gifts for Ingo of course. He had missed out on five years of it! Many from Emmet of course. Lots of his old favorites that he had missed out on. Entire shows he used to like that had since been completed. Model trains to build. A Hisuian replica of a pokeball making kit. It really worked! A cookbook on old Hisuian recipes. Elesa’s albums. Season tickets for the baseball park. Just… a lot of things that everyone wanted to give him but never could. Some presents were actually years old. But they never gave up hope that he would come back. Well, mostly due to Emmet’s insistence in keeping these things for such a day, but still. He was very loved. Finally, Emmet opened his gift from Ingo and saw the silver pocket watch! Ohhh he loved it! It looked so good on him too, with the chain attaching to his belt loop! Fitting too, being a “Time Keeper” of sorts, haha. “Thank you!! I love it!” 

God all of this and he only got Emmet a watch. He owed him about thirty years’ worth of presents.

"Good! Good. I can get you something else!" Ingo insisted, "Something more!"

“You are more than enough, you know.” Emmet gave him a wry smile as he cut the cake to give to everyone. He gave his brother his slice with Ingo’s own face on it. And Emmet took his. What would everyone else be doing right now? 

People were talking and eating cake, enjoying themselves. It was a much better party when what had been going on for the last five years. They even managed to witness Ingo smile, a smile perceptible to the human eye which was a feat all in itself, not to mention a literal portal opening in time-space.

"I know, I should know." Ingo nodded, "It's just after thirty years. Huh, I mean...wh-what did you do for your birthday while I was gone?"

Emmet stiffened slightly, but relaxed again. “We can talk about that later, for now, we enjoy the party, okay?” All of the Pokémon were having lots of fun. Even baby sneasel, who eventually wanted uppies to sit in Ingo’s lap. 

Ooof. He almost forgot but let it go. Gently Ingo picked up the little Sneasel kitten to sit on his lap and stroke her fur. It purred and snagged a piece of cake with its claw before taking a cat nap on his lap. 

“I always knew you’d make a great dad someday,” Emmet teased. “But in all honesty, I’m so happy for you. So glad to be here with everyone.” 

Ingo chuckled at its antics. It was going to be a handful, he could tell. "So am I. It was worth everything I've been through." He told Emmet. All the battles, and harsh cold conditions, even getting trapped in the Yin space. Hopefully it was the same for Emmet.

It most certainly was. Eventually the party had to end and they said their goodbyes to everyone, thanking them for making this day so verrrrrry special. Emmet glanced around. “Ah. Well, I suppose it’s time to clean up.” 

"At least let me help you clean up. It's your birthday as much as mine." Ingo insisted.

"Sure, we can get it done double fast!" And sure enough, they tidied things up real well. "Another win for the wonder twins. Well! I dunno about you, but I'm beat. I'm glad you enjoyed today. I worked hard to make it all come together." He sat on his bed and flopped over. "Whew. Tomorrow is another day!"

"I know! You did an excellent job! Conducted with real precision." Ingo toed off his shoes before laying carefully down on his own bed.

"Do you suppose it's later enough?"

“Hm. I suppose. Though if you want to go to sleep in a happier mood, I would leave it for tomorrow. It’s alright, Ingo, it’s all in the past.” 

He would be lying if he said he wasn't drowsy. Ingo nodded and climbed into some sleep clothes. Perhaps it was better just to end on a lighter note like this. He gave a yawn and curled up into his pillow, "H-Happy Birthday, Emmet." Yeah, after a full dinner and cake sleep sounded good now.

Emmet smiled to himself. Sleep was always a wise choice. Tomorrow was another day! They were 31 now! 

31 although Ingo supposed he was technically 61. But it didn't matter and while he was always curious to learn more about Emmet's life without him he wouldn't push his brother to tell more than what he was comfortable with.

They would sleep soundly and the morning light was bright. Emmet got ready for the day with a happy hum, putting his new watch on his belt loop and admiring it. He loved the little ticking sound it made and the intricate gears it had. It also made him feel really official, like the original train conductors. Thank you, Ingo. For everything, he thought to himself. 

Ingo had one of his little not-smiles at Emmet looking at his watch. He was glad he (well, one of the depot agents) could get something that Emmet liked in such a short time.

———————————————————————————

End of chapter 5

[voidcrewcrossover]

well well well

okay so basically I've been thinking about how I wrote Void Crew and how much its bothering me that I could have done it better.

So I'm rewriting Void Crew and will eventually get to posting on Ao3

IN THE MEAN TIME I'm going to actually work on the Casual Full Cast AU thing (I forgot what I called it)

TLDR the full cast AU is about the ENTIRE cast of VC hanging out in Mobius/the Mushroom Kingdom and they just have a good time. It's a chance for me to explore relations that I want to look at or that I don't have space for in VC as it stands. I'm very excited teehee

[deiaiko]

#23 - Kiss

Masterlist

Previous

Next

Let me know your thoughts in the reblogs <3

☕ Buy me coffee ☕

[quietwingsinthesky]

actually funny story regarding prev post but when my friend forced my to watch Red White and Royal Blue, at one point I said something along the lines of “They’re probably going to break up in a few years anyway, despite all this fuss.” and she accused me of trying to ruin the movie for her. And then I did not say the next thing I thought because she was already annoyed at me, which was “Why does them breaking up in the future matter if the story is about them being in love now?”

[nezumiineko]

dont feel guilt about change. the art made before the changes will still be there, its not a waste, think of it like a picture of you then, or now, and look back and see how much youve changed. oh and you can always go back on the new design thing of course so theres that too. i hope u feel good and okay about it :}

frames this ask in my brain anon your so right

the old design is still really important to me but if each design is who i was then ive been slowly looping back to a happier version of me that i thought died but diffrent in a good way realizing that makes me feel alot better about likeing it thank you!!! ^^

[fingertipsmp3]

Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself

[moe-broey]

I do really want to buckle down and get my old WIPs presentable though, even if I do resort to just cleaning up pencil sketches (though ideally I would like to ink and color -- or even just settle for inking).

I talk a lot about my concepts and I feel bad/frustrated that I can't present them...

I would say the Veronica focused comic is like a one-shot, initially planned to have two pages (though only one was sketched/written out).

Meanwhile I have a long ongoing plotline that started off as a non-serious, silly comic, that I ended up having Strong Feelings about actually, which eventually would kick off all of my Askr sibs/Alfàr thoughts. There's a short interlude with Sharena and Lif as well in the og silly comic as well, as I was drawing parallels/trying to grasp the vibe... this comic did actually reach coloring stage, almost all character illustrations are fully colored, bg blank (which. The art is so old. I almost just want to leave it.)

And I guess that Is the nice thing about doing all of this as a hobby, like, nothing Actually has to be done perfectly, it just needs to look presentable. I can take as many or as few shortcuts as I want, and learn in the process what works for me.

Like, actually, I feel like my Henry/Libra/Nowi comic is a fantastic example of that -- the bg is extremely basic (borderline looks childishly done), and I Know I could do way more than that, but. All I really wanted was to draw something quick and fun that was exclusively focused on the characters, the joke, and the actions taking place. The background only existed for the purpose of Making it work -- you need to see that there's a river, that Henry is currently dragging Nowi towards as if he was disposing a body. And later, you need to see the river still, when Libra picks her up and throws her into it. Core point, it doesn't have to Look nice -- it just needs to perform a function.

Something else nice that I learned in letting myself do it poorly is that watercolors are really good for broad quick coverage. Which IS something I knew and was going to utilize in some Genshin comics, which ultimately got abandoned esp bc I lost the interest -- I just haven't actually Used the method in a larger piece. Which! I think is actually what I'm getting at.... being able to draw something small, not serious, with the lowest amount of effort required to serve its purpose, actually helped a lot in conceptualizing how I can approach future projects. And likewise, how I can approach cleaning up older ones that don't quite stand the test of time.... but again, I may just opt for filling in the necessary blanks (fully coloring The Characters if it got to that stage) and cleaning up what I can with updated art (which would end up being pencil sketches).

Another thing is I really want to organize everything somehow, beyond my art tag. Especially because a lot of these thoughts are interconnected, even in the case of the Veronica one-shot. And of course, the other WIPs, while disconnected at first glance, Are the jumping off point for a storyline that has A Lot of different parts. Plus, on top of all that, I actually have a lot of comic/story ideas for my summoner OC. Either to present characterization/parallels, or to be a part of another broader storyline that's interconnected as well.

I think. Maybe the main thing to get sorted Is whatever is closest to being finished, and starting from there. Which also means I'll want to figure out a navigation system..... hgnghghnhghbngh......

[loveletterworm]

problem i have is that  i really struggle with the tendency to just sort of make characters with the same like three personalities over and over  and also reusing random concepts or design elements in what are supposed to be entirely unrelated things (the latter is kind of normal i guess actually but it compounds the first problem a bit)  so whenever i realize i have two different ideas with unusually similar characters i always have to go like.  Well damn it which one of you gets to live cuz i can’t ever show my face in the world if people know i keep making the exact same thing over and over

[thateclecticbitch]

I think a really important part of the conversation about transitioning and detransitioning that a lot of people do not talk about, or maybe even consider, is the sometimes subtle, but always incredibly important distinction between disatisfaction and regret. In fact, I think a good portion of detransitioners may have confused being unsatisfied with some of their results or going through a difficult time in their life with regretting their decisions.

[yieldtotemptation]

EASY ft. Yunjin

yunjin x male reader smut

6k words

“Oh, you’re an idiot,” Yunjin decides, stealing yet another one of your fries. “My best friend is an idiot.”

You pull the bowl out of her reach, feeling the need to defend yourself, “You're really calling me an idiot because—”

“Because you have the completely insane opinion that jerking yourself off is better than getting a blowjob. What is wrong with you?”

“They’re overrated! Number of times I’ve cum from a blowjob—zero. Number of times I’ve cum from my own hand—probably thousands!”

“Okay, first—gross, and second—you’re not just an idiot. You are a sad, sad man.”

“I’m just being honest!”                      

Yunjin reaches over, snatches yet another fry. Waves it in front of your face, judging you, before reaching some kind of consensus in her unreasonably pretty head. “You only think that because you've never had a good one.”

“I've had plenty.”

Yunjin's eyes narrow. She crunches.

You swallow hard.

“But you've never had one from me.”

—

Look, you’re pretty sure Yunjin’s full of shit. You’ve known her forever, you’re well versed in her bullshitting ways—she’s got a penchant for stretching out the truth until it’s as elastic as the underwear strap that she just loves to leave sticking out of her jeans.

So, yeah. The girl likes to exaggerate. It’s kind of her job anyway. Make things seem bigger, more dramatic than they really are. Sell the idea of heaven in a three-minute pop song. Sweet lies from lips painted to perfection.

Plump, glossy, pillowy-soft lips that you’ve seen pout and purse and get trapped between her teeth or swiped over by her tongue and—

You get the picture.

“Seriously, the bathroom?” You’re asking, and honestly, you’re trying to give her an out. Waiting for her to take it back, reveal that this is all just an extremely unfunny prank, designed to needle you, make you blush and maybe get a good story to embarrass you in front of her friends with. How she left the silly, naïve hometown boy with his pants around his ankles and his dick in his hand.

Any time now, she’ll point and laugh and make you feel like even more of a fucking idiot when she says, ‘I can’t believe your dumb ass actually followed me in here expecting a blowjob,’ and that’ll be the end of it.

Really. Any time now.

And yet.

Silence as she closes the door behind her, which you feel the need to break with, “Come on, Yunjin, you don’t have to prove anything—"

Yunjin cuts you off—“Oh, but I want to.”

She spins on her heels to face you. Presses her back flush against the door. She turns the lock.

Something in the room shifts. 

Her posture, maybe, or more specifically something in her legs. The way she’s angled herself so that your eyes are drawn to their long creamy expanse, up to the tightness of her thighs, and the way they frame the juncture in between.

Or it’s in the drop of one single shoulder; her half-zipped hoodie sliding down to reveal a sliver of smooth neck, the falling strap of her tank-top, the gentle swell of her chest.

Or maybe it’s just the tilt of her head, her lips all pouty and perfect, and oh, now she’s unzipping the jacket further down and she’s watching you find out in real time that she’s left her midriff bare and uncovered and holy shit her abs are ridiculous and your brain is blue-screening—

This isn’t the Yunjin you know.

The friend, the confidant, the embarrassingly loud chatterbox who raids your fridge and roasts your clothes and has a running commentary on every single woman that enters and very quickly leaves your orbit.

Each ticking second, each subtle movement, she’s starting to look less and less like the girl from your childhood and more and more like the idol that everyone else seems desperate to worship.

She takes a step forward.

Your mouth feels paper-dry.

You lie, “Can’t say you’re off to a great start, then.”

Yunjin raises a perfect brow, and yeah, she doesn’t buy that shit for a second. “What, were you expecting somewhere with a little more ambiance?”

“Well, you’re setting yourself up for failure here,” you retort, some defence mechanism causing you to try to keep things casual, bring it back to more familiar, banter-heavy waters. “Toilets aren’t really a turn-on for me.” 

“Didn’t take you for a romantic,” she teases, but something about her tone—light, playful, less biting than usual, sends you in a tailspin. Your mind grinds to a halt when you realise why. She’s not simply teasing. She’s flirting. And she’s taking another step.

“What can I say, I’m a love before lust kind of guy.”

Yunjin just laughs, something foreign and a little bit wicked. Forces a chill down your spine that you can’t quite explain. She makes those final steps, closing the distance, backing you up against the row of sinks, and—fuck.

She stops right in front of you. Your heart races. You think she can hear it thump.

“Am I making you nervous?” She asks, and it’s all kinds of fucked because now you’re seeing the details; the flecks of honey-brown escaping the coloured contacts that make her eyes pop, the curls at the end of her lashes, reaching out to touch the fluorescent lights overhead. “The thought of my pretty lips wrapped around you putting you on edge?”

And you really thought you knew her mouth; but now she’s jutting out her bottom lip, and it’s fuller than you remembered. As dangerously red as her hair, and Jesus Christ you catch the tremble in them when her eyes flicker down for just a brief instant—right before they return to yours.

She grins.

You aim for unaffected. You miss the mark by a wide margin. "Just don’t want to disappoint you. Putting all this effort in only to be proven wrong by me. Again.”

Yunjin gives you a pitying sigh in response, the sound all honey and smoke, and she makes you flinch when she barely has to move a muscle to place a single finger on your sternum.

She draws a lazy circle on your chest. You hate that you shiver.

“Something tells me that won't be the case,” she’s saying, whisper-quiet now. The circle she’s drawing gets wider, turns into a spiral, and now she’s massaging into your chest, a hand over your heart, and her fingers are getting higher until they’re up to your shoulder, and she’s leaning in so her breath is hot on your neck, and—“It’s going to be filthy. Sloppy. A fucking mess. You’ll never be the same. I’m going to bring you to your knees.”

“I thought the whole idea of this was for you to be kneeling in front of me,” you manage, by some miracle, to keep your voice steady. “Seems like you’re getting ahead of yourself here.”

“All in due time,” she answers, getting her body closer, and you can feel your worser impulses start to involuntarily close the gap between your waists. “I’m not like those other girls. I’m not going to just jump right on your cock and bounce up and down for two minutes. I think you’ve earned yourself a little torture.”

“Then you’re wasting your time.”

“We’ll see about that,” she chides, and her other hand starts to skate down your chest, lower and lower until it stops just short of your pants. Her thumb digs into your waistband. Tugs. Does nothing else.

And maybe there's something there. The denial. The torture. The helplessness. Coming from someone who's always been a little bossy, who you've always let get her way because, hell, she's Yunjin, and she always promised that in the end she'd make it so nice for you.

You’re not sure if you want to find out.

“Yunjin—”

“Don’t be afraid,” she giggles, breaking you out of whatever spell has kept you frozen in place this entire time. “Go ahead, you can touch me too, if you want.”

But it's just as you reach out for her that you’re caught.

Yunjin traps one of your wrists in her grasp, causing you to freeze up all over again. Brings your hand to her mouth. Let’s her eyes flit once—to your face—and again—to your thumb.

She sucks.

Slow, deep, her tongue swirling around the digit as it disappears past her lips and into the warmth of her mouth. Vibrates a ridiculously filthy moan into your knuckle, convincing you for a second that your thumb must be delicious, must be something really fucking sweet for her to be slurping on it like this.

She pulls away, just enough to let the sticky wetness left behind glisten in the light.

Her lips bless the pad. “You’re picturing it, aren’t you?”

And then the next finger; and yeah, you’re transfixed—fascination, horror, painful straining as she does the same dance with your forefinger. Deep, deeper than the thumb could reach, until your nail is scraping at the back of her throat and—

It pops out of her mouth as quick as it entered, and you feel it in your core—the sudden absence. “You’re thinking about it—thinking I might be right. Realising that if I can do this to your fingers—”

You can’t bring yourself to argue. Can’t even bring yourself to speak. You’re too busy watching her mouth, too busy watching your middle finger go all the way in, push down into her throat and holy fuck, she doesn’t even gag.

“It’d feel so much better than anything you ever had. Ever even imagined,” she says, and she’s kissing up and down your finger, staining it fire-engine red. “See, the problem wasn’t that you don’t like blowjobs. It’s that you never once gotten one from a mouth this eager for you.”

And finally, when her teeth graze the tip of your ring finger, and you’re expecting the warmth of her lips once more, she stops.

Grinds her hip into you, forcing you to stab into her abs, and it’s unavoidable now—the pressure of your cock, ready to tear itself out of your jeans and just feel her. Her touch. Her cunt. Her mouth.

She feels it too. Arches her eyebrow—‘I told you so’ on her lips prepped and ready.

You wait under the heat of her gaze, trying not to look because you really don't want to give her the satisfaction. But fuck it’s hard. Each breath feeling like it’s being siphoned out of you, replaced with the scent of her—sweet, suffocating. Intoxicating.

But your eyes turn traitor. And it’s a mistake.

Yunjin squeezes your wrist, steals your attention. Takes your ring and pinkie fingers into her mouth. Pushes them past her lips at the same goddamn time.

Your mind goes completely, utterly blank.

She sucks on them hard, drawing them deep past her lips, devouring them, like they’re the last two drops of water in the desert and she’s just been dying of thirst. Holds your eyes hostage, needing an audience to watch as she makes a show of it; moaning around them, tongue rolling over and around your digits and you’re receiving the message loud and clear—‘You have no idea what you’re in for.’

You feel your knees start to give out.

Your fingers are soaked with her saliva, and the sounds she’s making—deep, throaty, fucking obscene—your body’s being hijacked, all your blood redirected to one painfully obvious place.

It occurs to you that you should just give up now. Tell her she’s proven her point. Your heart’s racing, your chest is tightening, your breath is coming in ragged, desperate bursts. Just tell her you believe her and jump straight to the part where she does her victory dance on top of your cock

If only.

Yunjin sets your fingers free with a smack of her lips, but the heat of her mouth still clings to your skin, lingering with the wetness of her tongue, the promise of something so much better. She kisses a trail around your palm, over the back of your hand, around your wrist.

And then she’s on her toes, and she’s leaning her body into you, using your shoulder for support. Marking your neck, nose nuzzling against the stubble, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around her waist. Pull her closer, give her tongue access to your jaw, your cheek, anywhere she wants.

Her teeth line the bottom of your ear, and she sucks gently at your earlobe, and you swear to fucking God it makes your balls tingle.

She bites. “By the end of this, you’re going to be begging.”

Gets closer still, nestles herself into your embrace, presses her tits against your chest. It's divine, the feeling of her against you, in your arms. So right. A body so tight; slender and grace and so happy to have your arms wrapped around her, so delighted that you've discovered the perfect home for your fingers, because she would absolutely hate to have them anywhere else. On anyone else.

"You won't be able to resist me," she tells you, her breath hot on your skin, making it rise up in goosebumps. And you just nod along, because what could be better than the way she's touching you, the heat she's offering, the things you can already picture her lips doing?

And that’s when she lays it on you—her true endgame in all of this teasing:

“You’re going to want it so badly, you’re going to call me Mommy.”

You nearly push her right off you.

Yunjin just stares straight at you. Dead serious. Heat, intent, fucking determination set upon her awfully pretty features.

“I’m older than you, you know.” You try to laugh it off, but it comes out strained when Yunjin presses herself into you again, and her tongue starts to trace the shell of your ear, and her hand starts to work at your zipper. Touching you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like she’s done it so many times before. Like she’s going to do it so many times again.

“It’s a state of mind, baby,” and she smirks, and there’s a challenge in there. Two doors—try to prove her wrong and walk away, keep your dignity intact. Or just let go, get rid of your pride and fall into a pair of the most tempting, talented, sinful lips that have ever graced your skin.

You don't even get a second to decide.

Her hand’s already at your throat, pulling you close. You let her. Make it easy. Taste the sweetness of her breath, getting a split second to crave her tongue before finally meeting it. Her mouth crashes into yours, and you’re gone.

You kiss her back, breathe her in. Welcome her tongue past your teeth, let it stroke yours, dance in a way that’s far too right for a first time, and it's crazy how she just fits.

She feels, smells, tastes like everything good.

You settle into the reality that this might be the last—only—chance you get.

Face it, you’ve always known who she is—undeniable, goddamn gorgeous, sexy, hot, plain and simple. But this? This is different. You’ve watched it. Yunjin on stage, wearing next to nothing, hips rolling in sync with a thrumming bass, eyes fucking the hell out of the cameras. And you’ve fantasised about it. But it's always felt so fucking far-fetched. She's always felt so impossibly out of reach.

Intangible, since the day she debuted. Ascended to some place that you could never join.

But now.

She’s come back down, just for this. Just to reclaim something that's always been hers.

She moans something nice into your mouth when she feels you pushing back against her. Her hand finally dips beneath your waistband. Finds you eager. Desperate.

But then she pulls away.

Eyes widen, fucking laughs.

“Oh, you’re such an asshole.”

You blink. “What?”

She reaches back, hands careful. Like she’s defusing a bomb. Her fingers peel down the zipper of your pants, and then yank down the stretched-out cotton of your briefs, and you’re set free.

Hard. Aching. Throbbing.

Hers.

“Asshole,” she repeats.

You don’t even know what the fuck.

“Christ, it suddenly makes sense,” she says to herself, but doesn’t bother elaborating. No, instead, she just reaches back down, wraps her fingers around you and gives you a little squeeze. Tests the water. Feels the way your cock jumps under her touch.

Your knuckles turn white against the sink behind you, and Yunjin smiles again when she realises you’re going to let her do whatever she wants.

And so her hand starts moving. Slowly. Gently.

She kisses you again, for just a moment, and then lower, and lower. Stroking you as she maps her way down your body with her lips. Feather-light against your skin, touch hot on your cock, dragging it out, building the anticipation.

Stopping when she’s on her knees. Breathing on your cock.

You hiss in a breath.

Yunjin lets go. Takes off her jacket. Tightens her ponytail. Blinks up at you. And fuck. Her chin tipped just so. Her cheeks flushed. Her eyes alone making you strain.

Her lips part, and you find yourself nodding before she even says a single word.

“I’m going to take care of you now,” she whispers into your skin, kissing into your thigh. It’s warm, soft, wet. Excruciating. She’s so close to where you need her mouth to be, but so fucking far.

Her fingers trace patterns up and down your shaft, dancing over your cock. Not touching, never. Just teasing. Torment that has you squirming, and she’s basking in it, tracking every twitch, loving every desperate gasp.

“You’re mine,” Yunjin mutters, as her mouth travels up your thigh, and your muscles start to shake. You could just grab her, it’d be so easy. Just take her by the hair, force her to give you want you want. But something stops you. Afraid of breaking this moment. Anticipating what’s to come. 

Your oxygen's running low, barely breathing, can’t stop yourself from panting when her teeth scrape along your hipbone, and your cock jumps in response, nearly slapping her right in the face.

But fuck, Yunjin’s a sadist. She kisses around your waist, her tongue darting out to taste your skin, exhaling hot and steamy air against your balls. You're dripping, beading at the tip, and it’s all so, so obvious.

The wait is agony. Pure agony.

Yunjin gives you a small mercy. Her hand wraps around you again, and for an instant you’re terrified that the touch alone would be the end of it.

But thankfully, you outlast. Yunjin strokes you lightly, her grip firm but gentle. Loving. Wresting control over you, your cock. So fucking hard already, you’re surprised you haven’t torn the sink off the wall yet.

And then, oh fuck, she’s kissing closer. Your abs, your belly button. Lower, lower, breath hot on your cock, closer, closer, please.

You can’t take it anymore. You need her. You need this.

“Yunjin,” and any other time you would hate yourself for how embarrassingly needy it comes out.

“Admit you were wrong,” Yunjin says, and you’re ready to scream it, tell her you’ve never been more wrong about anything in your entire life. Anything to feel her lips. “Admit that there’s no way your hand could ever be better than this.”

“Yes,” you grit out, and it’s a fucking miracle you can form words at all. “You were right. I was wrong.”

She’s baring teeth now, and her lips are ghosting over your cock head and you just need her.

“Please.”

“Say it.”

“I can't—”

“Do it.”

“Mommy.”

And then—

Her mouth is on you.

Wet, hot, heaven. Taking you in slow, eyes paying attention to your every flinch, the agonising twists across your face. Trained on all your strained reactions. Savouring it. Reading you like a book—every page turned with a flick of her tongue, every paragraph devoured with a swirl of her cheeks.

Slow, so slow. Deliberate. Perfect suction. Just enough to make your toes curl, to have your hips buck in her mouth. Convincing you that everything before, everything you ever had, whatever you believed was a blowjob—was all a fucking lie.

No one ever felt like this.

Your fingers release the sink, find their natural place in her hair, threading through the red, letting it knot around your digits. And there's the urge again. Tug, pull, make her go faster, make her understand that she’s already won so you might as well fuck without abandon, but you don’t dare. You don’t want to ruin this. Not when she seems so satisfied.

Cheeks hollowing out with every suck, smiling around your cock, basking in some kind of pleasure you can’t even comprehend—because she’s the one doing the giving here.

And then when she sinks, finally pushes your cock to the back of her throat and further down. Presses her nose to your waist and holds you there. Stealing your breath, the air from your lungs, forcing a deep, guttural ‘Fuck’ from your gut.

You reach your conclusion. Her lips are made for this. Made to fit around your cock perfectly, to slide up and down with the fucking unapologetically sloppy noises that make the room spin. That it’s only her throat that can take you deeper than you ever thought possible, that can constrict and tighten around you so nice. That no other mouth could be this warm, hot, welcoming, fucking right.

She pulls back. A long, long draw that leaves a fucking mess. Globs of spit, drool, pre-cum hanging off your cock, from her lips.

“This poor, poor cock,” she sighs, like it’s such a great tragedy. “Never had anyone treat it right. Like the treasure it is.”

She shows you what she means, demonstrates how to properly worship your cock. Lips brushing along your shaft, pecking gentle kisses along your length, tongue snaking out to lick off her own spit.

Her hand slides under your balls, cupping them, balancing them in her palm. Holding them in place when she points your cock up so she can duck underneath. Nuzzle her nose into your waist, lap her tongue at your base, get her lips right where you’re most sensitive.

Pleasing you like she’s always wanted to. Making you believe that maybe she has. Maybe this is something she’s been thinking about all this time; every time she’s seen you, seen the way you looked at her, heard you tell stories of the other women that only ever disappointed you with their mouths.

Not knowing that she was the one that could make you fucking levitate this entire time.

“This was always going to happen,” Yunjin says. Starting to stroke you again, her grip a little tighter this time, a little more possessive. Looking up at you through her lashes, red lipstick smudged off the corner of her mouth. “One way or another, I was always going to have this.”

And her tongue is everywhere. Laving around the base of your cock, making you feel it all the way to your toes. Not done with the teasing, the unbearably slow burn that’s going to drive you insane.

Her mouth opens wide. She takes one of your balls into her mouth. Surrounds it in soft, wet heat. Sucking—not hard, not yet, just enough. Enough to make you bite down and grind your teeth. Squeeze your eyes shut—not that it even helps. You can feel her tongue rolling around, coating your balls in a warm stickiness. Soothing. Torturous. So fucking good.

She lets out a soft hum, and the vibration nearly sends you over the edge.

Yunjin lets go with a pop, and you swear you can hear your soul sigh in relief and despair. “God, this cock,” she murmurs, “Wish you had told me, shown it to me sooner.”

The way she says it—like you could even fathom what you’ve been missing out on. Years of this? Years of her mouth on you? Years of her making you feel like the only thing that matters in this fucking world is impaling your cock into the most insanely hot and wet and tight hole you’ve ever felt?

The look on Yunjin’s face answers every single question for you.

Yes. Yes to all of it.

“Could have been doing this every fucking day,” she muses, and you let out some choked gasp, and her lips are kissing into your slit again. Then her tongue, then lower, and she’s taking you deep. So deep you’re pretty sure you can feel her fucking heartbeat through her throat.

She holds you there. One, two, three. Letting her tongue drool down your shaft, letting it drip over your balls and splash down between her knees.

Pulls back, lets go, catches her breath.

Spits on your cock.

“Imagine,” she speaks, even though her mouth is a fucking disaster, lips swollen, just a glossy smudge of red. “Just waking up to me sucking this, getting it all nice and hard and throbbing.”

It’s not difficult at all to see it. You can feel it. Tongue flattening against the underside of your cock, the swallow as she’s taking you in, the cheeks fixing around the edges with each bob. Just so fucking messy. Soaking your cock, letting these garbled, choked, slick, filthy noises echo off the bathroom walls.

“This would ruin me, you know that don’t you? Ruin my cunt,” she tells you. “Ruin Mommy’s tight little cunt so fucking nicely.”

“Fuck you, Yunjin,” is the best you can muster, which is impressive considering your brain cells are dying off one by one from the lack of oxygen.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d love that.”

“Of course I would,” you admit, and then continue admitting, “I’ve always fucking wanted to.”

“I know,” Yunjin admits back, and that sets her off. Her mouth goes to work again, your cock disappearing into her, her hand getting just that little bit faster, and fuck, fuck, fuck, she’s got it all wrong.

She’s the one that’s going to ruin you. Going to make you forget every other orgasm you ever had.

There'll be no room for anything in your head but just thoughts of fucking her. Raw, rough; again and again until she's completely filled up with you and even then.

“Been dreaming of it,” you groan out, as Yunjin’s pace builds, and there’s the beginning of tears lining her eyes, and she’s gagging more often than not, and it compels you to keep telling her, “Been dreaming of your tight fucking body. What I’d do to get my hands on that slutty little waist. Just dig in my fingers and pound into that cunt. God I know it would feel so good.”

Deeper and deeper, until she doesn’t even need to use her hands anymore. Just to steady your legs, to keep you still while she fucks your cock with her throat.

And it’s these images you’re drawing up in her mind. How you’d pay her back, how you’d make her scream, how’d you do the same to her and more. Wreck her with your cock until she never seeks another again. Make sure that her lips, her cunt, her body belong to only you. That’s what’s driving her now, making her eyes water, making her cheeks go red and her throat bulge.

That’s what has her hand snaking down between her thighs, forcing open the button of her shorts, stretching the waistband of her panties to their limits. Just so she can touch herself. To feed into the heat building in her cunt and the wetness leaking down her legs.

You can feel her, mouth tightening around you as she teases herself. Feel the accidental swipe of her teeth when it gets too much. She’s rubbing her clit in circles, matching the tempo of her bobbing head.

Fuck, the sight alone.

Hand disappearing into her shorts, getting down and into herself, and she’s so fucking pretty, even when her face is scrunched up in the worst of pleasures, even when she’s choking on your cock.

And you think there’s laughter around the gags, or at least a smile against your skin when you throb, jerk, fuck her mouth. She’s enjoying this. The power, the pleasure she can wrench from you. You’re getting off, sure, but it’s all for her. All to prove her point.

And she’s fucking winning.

“Tell me,” she gurgles when she’s at your head, mouth bubbling at the corners with a cocktail mix of her sloppiness and your arousal. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Shit, Yunjin, it feels—”

“Actually, fuck that, tell me it’s better,” Yunjin decides, and she seems so fucking pleased with herself that you want to hate her. But it’s so hard to deny those big fucking eyes that anchor you to the ground, those ridiculously plump lips that suck any argument right out of your throat. “Better than your hand. Better than any other mouth. Tell me it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to your cock. Be a good boy and tell me I’m better.”

You groan, or whimper, or cry, or make some noise that makes Yunjin just so fucking ecstatic, makes her swoon and nearly come apart on her own fingers. “So much fucking better, Yunjin. Jesus, your lips. Perfect for this. Perfect, cock-sucking lips. Hot mouth. Your fucking throat taking me so nice.”

“Use it,” Yunjin opens her mouth, stretches her lips as far as they'll go, showing you, sticking out her tongue and giving you an insight into your own end. “Use it like the toy it’s always been for you. Fuck it, fuck me. Use my lips, my mouth, my throat. Make me choke until you think I can't take it and then give me even more.”

“You’re fucking insane.”

“And you’re about to make a mess.”

Yeah, you’re properly doomed.

God it’s so fucking cruel. How Yunjin doubles down, mouth swallowing you whole. So fast and deep that you don’t understand how you’re still on your feet. Just watching her throat pulse, convulse, her eyes bulge when you rut inside her and she just won’t stop.

“You’re so fucking good, Yunjin, so good, you’re a—fuck—you’re a—” Only one word comes straight to mind, "Cumslut."

Yunjin preens. Looks up, lashes fluttering. Sounding so girly that it makes everything seem even more debauched and depraved. “Aren’t I? Aren’t I so good for you?”

You grunt out, “You already fucking know.”

Yunjin’s hand returns to the fold, jerking your cock into her lips, because your own personal catastrophe’s on the horizon. It’s coiling in your balls, tightening up, a spring ready to snap.

And, oh, how Yunjin would love to be the one that snaps it.

“You’re not going to be able to go back. Never. No one else will be able to take this big fucking cock like this. No one can be as much of a cumslut for you.”

You’re fucking falling apart. Yunjin’s mouth is a vice. Hot, heavenly, sloppy vice that’s squeezing the last drops of sanity from your brain. She just keeps fucking doing it—taking you so deep until your cock’s lost down her throat, over and over again. And it’s building and getting closer and closer to disaster and every nerve ending in your body is just begging for release.

“Give in,” she slurs around your girth, barely coherent, mouth full of you. Pumping your cock faster, until it’s throbbing and aching so desperately and angrily, and her words are sounding nicer and nicer with every passing beat. “Give up. Give me that cum. All of it.  Cum for me. Make Mommy happy. Give me what I want. Give me what I need. Give me—”

“Shut the fuck up and take it—”

“Be a good boy and beg—”

“Fuck you—”

You’re straining, for the first time lifting your hips off the sink and falling into her. Hands holding onto her head—and now her hair is just a handlebar, and you're riding her mouth for dear life, fucking into it like she doesn't have a choice. Using her, making her take you, over and over, again and again, and she’s just so happy to keep fingering herself into oblivion while you lose all tempo and pace and forcefully, clumsily wreck her throat.

Until you’re just seeing red.

Red of her hair, her lips. Red smudged up and down your cock and against your waist and all over your fucking fingers.

And then—

“Fuck you—Mommy!”

You can see it in her eyes.

You can feel it in every nerve ending.

You can taste it in the air.

It’s harsh, mean, rough. Pounding into her mouth, stretching her throat, until her nails are digging into your thighs and you’re shaking, twitching, fucking—

Cumming.

You empty yourself into her. Yunjin doesn’t flinch. She takes it. Every pulse of your orgasm, every drop of your cum. Swallows it down with a greedy gulp, again and again, until she can’t swallow anymore.

It gushes out of her mouth.

A thick rope that she can’t quite keep up with that paints those gorgeous fucking lips. Her cheeks and chin. Drips down to her neck. So fucking beautiful. Covered with your cum all over her face, and now down to her shoulder, her collarbone, and oh you’ve ruined her entire slutty outfit.

“God, fuck, Yunjin—”

And she’s dropping her pussy down onto her fingers, panting around your cock, around mouthfuls of your cum. Working her clit in quick, sharp movements until it’s just your hand tangled in her hair that’s keeping her upright.

This fucking image of her.

Mouth full of you, swallowing, choking, gagging. So fucking obscene you can’t look away. Eyes rolled back into her skull, cheeks are flaming, and she’s so shiny and wet and glazed over, and just a complete fucking mess for you.

You can’t imagine anything better.

It leaves you reeling. Standing there with your cock still out. Shaking from aftershocks that you’re not sure will ever end. Trying to catch your breath, chest heaving, eyes blurring back into clarity while you watch Yunjin return to life.

“Good boy,” she breathes, but it’s hardly smug. It’s just pure victory.

She opens her mouth. Smiles so wide. Shows you her prize. Shows you the mess she’s made, shows you everything. Moans at the taste of it, as she absorbs your flavour into her tongue. Completely dazed, mouth fucked to hell, and just strung-out and drunk on your cum. She finds the energy to swipe her tongue around her teeth, cleaning the best she can. She barely makes a dent.

And you’re still hard. Still fucking throbbing.

Her eyes never leave yours. She wants you to see.

She grins, and you're already expecting it, the victory speech. Something no doubt flirty and teasing and completely fucking filthy that will make you want to throw her over the sink and punish her tight, drenched cunt until she's the one begging and calling you Daddy.

Only, that all gets tossed out when you hear someone banging on the bathroom door.

“Everything okay in there?”

The sudden intrusion brings everything back into focus, seizes you back into a reality outside of Yunjin's cum-stained lips.

You clear your throat.

“I’m sorry, it’s my,” and you look down and Yunjin’s beaming up at you. Looking so perfect, kneeling on the cold tiles. Streaks of your cum hanging off her chin. She blows you a kiss. “My girlfriend. Just needed some immediate attention.”

And Yunjin decides to up the ante, leaning back into you. Snaking her arms around your thigh. Kissing into where you’re still so ridiculously sensitive. And then licking and sucking and—

It takes an impossible amount of effort to not scream at the top of your lungs. “We’ll be out soon, just need a couple—”

Yunjin shakes her head. Shows you both hands. Flashes all fingers.

“Ten—”

Shakes her head once more. Flashes again.

“Twenty?”

Yunjin nods.

“Twenty minutes.”

There’s a pause on the other side of the door, and you realise that this is all fucking out of control and completely unbelievable.

But still.

Yunjin’s tongue is setting you on fire, and God she’s kissing up higher, rising to her feet and she's covering every inch of your skin that she has yet to leave her mark.

You whisper-shout at her, “They’re going to break this door down.”

Yunjin laughs, and there’s no way whoever is outside the bathroom doesn’t hear it.

She removes her ruined top. Lets her bra fall to the ground. Steps out of her drenched panties. She looks like perfection.

“That’s fine,” she says, and she’s taking a hold of you, kissing you, and you can taste yourself on her lips and fuck, she’s winning again—“But you’re going to break me first.”

[fireinmoonshot]

touchy | joaquin torres x reader

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Reader Summary: Joaquin has a thing where he always likes to have a hand on you whenever you're together – holding your waist, holding your hand, a hand resting on your thigh. You finally decide to confront him about why. Warnings: Mentions of food, a kind of spicy make-out scene. Word Count: 1.6k A/N: I had this idea and I just had to write it. It's shorter than my other Joaquin fics but I had so much fun writing it and I really just wanted to get something else for Joaquin out for you guys! Please send in requests for him if you have any! 💗

One thing you never expected when you started dating Joaquin Torres was how touchy the man was – there was barely any time when the two of you were together when he wasn’t touching you in some way. 

It surprised you at first. He never came across as that kind of person. He was the definition of a Golden Retriever boyfriend. But then you’d be standing with him at a party and you’d feel his hand wrap around your waist, or whenever you had to cross the road, he’d hold your hand (not unlike your parents used to do when you were a child), or when you were at home watching a movie on the couch, his hand would rest on your thigh.

After several months of this, you finally decided to ask him why.

“Joaquin, can I ask you something?” You call from where you’re sitting in the living room, your eyes flickering up from the book that was on your lap – the one you’ve been trying to read and failing, owing to the fact that your boyfriend has been strutting around your apartment shirtless ever since he got out of the shower.

“Course you can, angel,” he calls back from the kitchen.

Out of the two of you, Joaquin is the cook of the family. You hadn’t trusted him in the kitchen at first – he had always seemed the type of person to accidentally chop off a finger because he was too distracted. But so far, no such accidents had occured and he was much better at making a delicious meal than you were.

You were quick to close your book and get up from the couch, padding through the hallway into the kitchen to see him standing at the bench, chopping something up on a cutting board in front of him – still irritatingly shirtless.

“Cooking shirtless is dangerous, you know,” you say, announcing your presence. 

His eyes flicker up towards you. “For you or for me?”

You give him a look. “For you, pretty boy. I’m not the one holding the knife.” 

Joaquin grins at you before putting the knife down, wiping his hands on the cloth on the bench beside him and grabbing the apron hanging over the back of one of your bar stools. “Should I put this on then? Someone clearly isn’t enjoying the show.” 

“Baby,” you roll your eyes at him jokingly, crossing the room and snatching the apron out of his hands. “You know that’s not what I meant. I meant you could get burned by oil or slip and cut yourself or… well… there are plenty of dangers to cooking shirtless.” 

Joaquin smirks, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to his chest so you’re pressed together. “Angel, all those things you just listed are also things that could happen to me if I were wearing a shirt. You know that, right?”

You can’t help the way you pout at him. “Not my point, Joaquin.”

He grins and presses a quick peck to your lips. “Was that what you were coming in here to talk about?” He asks, his thumb swiping gently back and forth over your waist. 

“No, actually,” you hum. “I was coming here to talk about this.” You motion in-between the two of you, at the contact between your bodies. You’re not not a fan of it – of course you love it – but it does amuse you, the fact that your boyfriend always wants to have a hand on you at all times. 

Joaquin raises his eyebrows. “We playin’ charades? Am I meant to guess?”

You laugh a little. “No, silly. This. The way I walked into the kitchen and you swept me up into your arms immediately. The way you always have a hand on my back when we walk somewhere. The way you put your hand on my thigh when we’re on the couch. The way you’re touching me all the time.” 

Irritatingly, your words have the opposite effect than intended and Joaquin steps away from you, removing his hand from your waist. You immediately miss the warmth of his body, the feeling of his hand on your waist, and almost reach back out for him. 

“You don’t like it?” Joaquin asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

You hate the look on his face – the way he looks like a wounded puppy. His usually playful eyes look sad, full of fear and you can read his expression immediately. He thinks that by doing these things, he’s made you uncomfortable.

“Baby, no – I love it!” You attempt to rectify the situation. “I just was curious about why.”

Unable to keep looking at his sad puppy dog eyes anymore, you step forward, cupping his cheeks in your hands gently. His hands tentatively rest on your waist, as if he’s afraid you’re going to move away at any second but he simply can’t help but to touch you, just a little.

“You’re so touchy and I love it, Joaquin. I love having your hands on me all the time, I swear. Just now when you took your hands off my waist it was like… like it was suddenly winter and I was freezing cold without them. I just wanna know why you do it,” you explain further, making sure you keep eye contact with him.

Joaquin frowns a little. “I guess I never really thought about it,” he replies. “I think I kinda just do it without meaning to. I just love the feeling of having my hands on you, feeling your warmth, reminding myself that you’re beside me. And I mean…” He clears his throat. “Have you seen yourself, angel? Why would I not wanna touch you at any given opportunity?”

It’s like his confidence makes a return to his body, then. His grip on your waist gets tighter and he pulls you closer, forcing you to drop your hands from his face. They rest on his shoulders instead as he backs you up a little so you’re leaning against the counter. His body is pressed against yours again, like it was only minutes ago. The warmth you’d missed before falls over you like a sheet of pure comfort.

You can’t keep the smile off your face at his words and actions. “That’s kinda cute, Joaquin,” you admit. “That you do it without thinking about it. Like I said, I love the feeling of you having your hands on me too.”

“Cute?” Joaquin looks at you with raised eyebrows. “You think I’m cute?”

It’s hard not to smile at his tone. “Yeah, adorable. You’re like a little puppy. You were looking at me before with the most puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen on a person. You looked so sad, I just wanted to pick you up and–”

Before you can finish speaking, Joaquin cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours. You moan at the sudden feeling of his lips, the feeling of his tongue swiping against your bottom lip. The way that his hands grip your waist tighter, one of them roaming up your back to grasp at the back of your neck so he can kiss you deeper.

The edge of the counter digs into your back but you barely even notice the feeling. One of your hands moves to run through Joaquin’s hair – it’s short, but long enough for you to grip, the other on his back. The feeling of his muscles against your palm only makes you want to kiss him more. The last thing you want to do is break apart for air.

Your breath hitches as he squeezes your waist again, forcing your lips apart. Both of you are breathing heavily, though the break doesn’t last long. Joaquin wastes no time in kissing you again, but this time his lips move from yours to your jaw. He presses soft, gentle kisses along the side of your jaw and down your neck. You tilt your head backwards, giving him better access. When your hand grasps onto his hip, he gasps a little and you can’t help but smile at the sound. 

“See?” You mutter breathlessly, tilting your head forward again to meet his eyes. “I told you that cooking while shirtless was dangerous.”

Joaquin laughs at that, a gorgeous smile finding its way onto his face. You look at him, at the sweat on his forehead, the look of lust and love in his eyes, the way his chest moves up and down quickly, his breath still heavy from your small make out session. He’s easily the most gorgeous man you’ve ever laid eyes on… and he’s all yours.

He moves his hands down to your waist again and before you can do anything about it, he’s lifting you up so you’re sitting on the counter and pushing your legs apart so he can stand in-between them. At this angle, you’re basically the same height.

“I see no problems here, angel,” he flashes that gorgeous grin again before messily pressing his lips to yours again. He pulls away quickly though, much to your disappointment. “Now that we’ve established that I’m not cute, I am going to continue cooking you dinner. I’ll let you go back to your book.”

“Oh no,” you shake your head, turning to watch him as he returns to the cutting board. “I have a much better view right here than I do in the living room, baby. Besides, someone has to supervise you to make sure you stay safe while cooking like that… it’s bound to be a hard job but I’m pretty certain I’m up to the challenge...”

[ryker-writes]

Hey there! I loved giving Malleus a stone as an accidental proposal! It would make sense to me that mers would also see it as that! Could we possibly get one with Floyd Azul or Jade?

omg yes absolutely! Thinking about it, merfolk probably would also take it as a proposal! Especially with their culture being inspired by The little mermaid and she loved to collect things. I love this request! For those of you who haven't seen the Malleus part, it's linked below!

Request rules and Masterlists

Accidentally proposing to Malleus with a rock

Accidentally proposing with a rock (Octavinelle)

Floyd:

It was an innocent gesture. You wanted to give Floyd a rock to show you care about him. A simple gift that you thought he'd like. Well, you think he likes it a little too much.

When you gave the rock to Floyd, his eyes went wide, and he quickly smiled and pulled you into a tight hug (careful not to hurt you too much), "Awwww of course!"

He seemed so happy to get the rock, it honestly surprised you. Then he started lurking around you more. Like, hovering behind you and picking you up at random times to carry you around anywhere. When you asked, he said he had a right to carry and lurk now.

You also caught Jade snickering more than usual at you and Floyd, like he knew something you didn't. But both him and Floyd didn't elaborate. Instead, Floyd laughed and wrapped his arms around you, setting his head atop yours, "Silly silly~"

It wasn't until later when you visited the Mostro Lounge's VIP room that you got a hint of what was happening. Normally you'd just go there to hang out, but you'd noticed Azul was unusually frustrated today. When he saw you, it only seemed to set him off on a rant as he paced about the room.

"I can't believe this. Of all the things you could've given, and to all the people...I can't even begin to imagine what's going through your mind. You must be as impulsive as him to do this and with such short notice! Now he wants to use the whole lounge for a day and dumps all these things to prepare on me. Could you not have waited until I've graduated at least so I wouldn't have to put of with this? You two could at least help me instead of leaving me to figure out how to cater for an entire wedding without giving me any specifics-"

At this point, you kind of zoned out because you were stuck on the whole "wedding" part. What?

As Azul paced around the room and ranted, without you fully listening, your mind was working to put together the pieces. He clearly was blaming you for something, and impulsivity could only mean Floyd was involved. That, and he mentioned giving him something...

Oh no...

Right on time, Floyd had strolled into the room, completely interrupting Azul's rant. But the second his eyes landed on you, his expression lit up and he'd made his way over to you. His arms quickly wrapped around you and he basically leaned all of his weight on you as he cheered, "There you are. I've been looking all over for you. What're you doing here with Azul?"

Hesitantly, you had to ask, "Floyd, what's going on?"

Tilting his head, he rested his cheek on top of your head and hummed in amusement, "Ah. Azul's just jealous of us. Getting married while he's stuck talking all business and contracts."

You're what? Did you hear that right?

Before you could ask anything else or try and explain anything, he'd picked you up again, and started walking out of the room with you. A very frustrated Azul calling out to you two, "At least give me something!"

Only for Floyd to wave a hand dismissively as he carried you out, "Nah. You got this. We're busy."

Something told you he wasn't going to let you just back out or call it a friendship rock...

Jade:

You like to think you know Jade pretty well. You've spent a lot of time together, so you thought it'd be a great idea to give him a little gift. So when you found this nice smooth and pretty rock, you knew it'd be the perfect gift for him. It's even practical since he can put it in one of his terrariums!

He even seemed happy when you gave it to him, after brief shock of course, and he had that sharp-toothed smile you knew well.

"Well well, I must say I never expected you to be so bold to give me something like this, but I accept."

That was all he said. You weren't really sure why it'd require boldness, but he didn't elaborate and instead brushed it off and quickly left saying he had work to do.

The day carried on as normal until you saw Floyd. He ran up to you and swung you around, "There you areee~ Welcome to the family! Ma's gonna love ya!"

Disoriented, dizzy, and confused, you had to ask, "Floyd? What are you talking about?"

He swung you around once more before finally setting you down, "Ah, you know. Proposing to Jade like that? Real brave of you."

Huh? Proposing?

But in a true Floyd fashion, he just ginned and waved goodbye as he scurried off, leaving you with many questions. The only way you'd probably get answers is to ask the man himself. So, you quickly made your way to the Mostro Lounge.

There, Jade was setting up some tables, as composed and collected as ever. Seeing you, he straightened up with that same sharp-toothed smile as earlier, and welcomed you, "Good, you're here dear. We have a small dinner to celebrate our engagement before we can begin making preparations."

Stunned by the wildness of it all, you tried to nervously correct him, "Jade, I feel like there might've been a slight misunderstanding-"

"Nonsense," He began, stepping closer and wrapping an arm around you, "It's common knowledge that gifting a special rock is a marriage proposal among merfolk. You're mine now, dear."

Azul:

Azul and you are really close. There was no denying it when you spent so much time at the Mostro Lounge VIP room just hanging out with him. So you thought you’d do something nice for him and get him a little gift.

Then there was this perfect rock you found. It was smooth and round with specks of blue and purple, perfect for Azul.

You didn’t expect him to act so…odd when you have it to him. You held it out in your hand towards him, and he just stared at you in shock. His face turned about as red as Riddle’s hair, and you could tell he was struggling to speak. If Jade and Floyd were here, they’d no doubt tease him for the look on his face.

After a few moments of stunned silence (you figured it was best to just be patient and wait for him to collect himself), he took the rock with slightly shaky hands. He held the rock close to him, over his heart, and took a deep breath. Then, he cleared his throat, and tried his best to answer, “I…wasn’t aware you felt so strongly, but it’s clear now. Don’t you worry, I can handle this. I’m…delighted to receive this.”

Not thinking much of his words, you simply smiled at him. It wasn’t uncommon for Azul to get a bit flustered by small gestures. He wasn’t treated well as a child, so you know little shows of appreciation mean a lot to him.

He scurried off with the rock to his office moments later, and there was silence for a moment before you heard him sputtering on the other side of the door. He probably would be embarrassed if you listened in though, and you wanted to spare him (this time).

The day went on as usual for a while. Classes went by, you spoke to some other friends, and went to visit the Mostro Lounge again later.

But the Lounge was…busier than normal. Students who worked there were scrambling about trying to serve customers and clean and adjust the smallest of details on things. Several of them looked super stressed, and some looked like they were about to pass out. Jade and Floyd, were the only calm ones who stood off to the side, watching them all with amused smiles.

You went up to them to ask what was happening, but Floyd spoke before you could, “Can ya let Azul flounder a bit longer? This is fun to watch.”

Azul was floundering? But he’s usually so calm and collected when he’s working. He couldn’t still be flustered from your gift earlier, right?

“What’s going on with Azul?”

Jade chuckled and was the one to answer you, “You sent him on quite the spiral. He’s got everyone working overtime to make sure everything is perfect for you.”

Now more confused, you had to ask, “Me? What did I do?”

At that, the duo only laughed more, clearly knowing something you don’t, but refusing to elaborate at you and everyone else’s expense. There was only one way you were going to get an answer; from Azul himself.

Marching past the two, you made your way to Azul’s office, barely knocking before going in.

And boy was he startled. The second you entered the room he sat up straighter and his cheeks turned pink, but he quickly tried to hide it behind his hand and muttered, “Ah, you’re here. My apologies, I’m still working on the contract right now.”

Walking up to his desk in complete confusion, you asked, “What contract? What’s going on?”

There was a moment of silence throughout the room. His gloved hands fidgeted with the pen and papers on his desk in front of him, trying to figure out the right words to say.

Then, he slid the paper over to you for you to read. Well, you only read the top before sitting stunned.

‘Contract of Marriage’

Huh???

Now it was your turn to be stunned into silence. So, he filled the silence, “I…was quite surprised by your gesture earlier, but I accept. If you’ll have me, I’d love for you to sign this. It’s quite possibly the best contract I’ve ever written.”