#I needed this moment immortalised in gif set so much

[fleurhcss]

˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ 𝐈 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 - Hyunjin x FEM Reader!

cw : photographer Hyunjin, needs a muse, reader and him will meet in his exhibition, blood, murder, nudes, sculpture classes, dead body tw, if you are sensible pls don't interact, MDNI. SENSITIVE CONTENT!

sw : blood kink, hair pulling, degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, anal, oral (both receiving), riding, humping, teasing, touching, masturbation, blowjob, marks, biting, choke kink, they'll have sex covered in blood.

wc : 9.025

synopsis : Hyunjin's a photographer and meets reader at his own exhibition. He falls in love with her beauty and the way she talks about art, so he proposes to her to attend his sculpture classes and then, after some of them, to be his model for a nude photography project, which will lead them to have sex. One day, she arrives before the appointment and begins to explore his study, finding a cupboard where he keeps all the heads of the girls he has seduced before her. But she's not afraid, she's excited. After a few minutes he shows up, catching her in the moment and she tells him her little dark secret, so they set up a murder and then fuck in the bloody mess.

a/n : hii... that's the first time for me writing here and writing in English so PLS im sorry if there are some errors!! I hope u enjoy this anyway 🎀🎀 I opened a ko-fi account, i will post there some stories and drawings, if you want to support me i will be grateful to anyone who wants to give me tips, ITS NOT OBLIGATORY

MASTERLIST

[ SMUT / TW ]

You have always been an art lover, which has led you to visit many exhibitions over the years. Photography and sculpture were your favourite subjects, and you have lost count of the number of exhibitions you have visited in your lifetime. However, it was a bit of a contradiction that art was not what you studied. You were a student of anatomy at university, which of course helped you to understand the human forms you so admired and loved to create. Although your studies were far from your true passion, you couldn't help but attend the private lessons that were often advertised in flyers around the city. That year alone, you attended no less than five classes, loving the way your hands shaped the clay beneath them. Its softness, the way it escaped your touch when wet: it was smooth, soft, elusive and malleable. Almost unpredictable, one might add. Once, because of a few air bubbles, you had to redo your work because it had burst in the kiln. Yes, one of the great faults of clay was its ability to burst if it was not perfectly formed. You were like clay, unpredictable. But you also loved the unpredictability of a photograph, the immediacy of a shot. The reality it represented. It was no coincidence that these were your favourite subjects.

You were walking around, sipping your caramel milkshake, after a long and tiring day at university. The music was on your mind, you imagined yourself in the scenarios that the soundtrack was transporting through your ears, but nothing could have distracted you from the sight of a giant billboard announcing a photography exhibition that weekend: The Art of the Body. This particular billboard had caught your attention not only because of the type of photography on display - nude exhibitions were rare in your town these days, too much of a scandal for the citizens. You were different, you appreciated every single muscle, every single feature of the human body. - But also for the way in which that body, unclothed, had been immortalised. Enclosed in a net that did not completely cover it, the woman's features were fully visible; she looked almost like a sculpture because of the contrast between light and dark.

You were enraptured by the image, your thoughts had clouded your mind, you had barely paid attention to the name of the photographer who was going to present this exhibition. But you didn't care, the subject matter was already of great interest to you. Nude photography by those who could not understand or feel it was considered almost scandalous. You found it a contradiction because very often the same people who criticised this kind of photography were the first to admire sculptures of the calibre and genre of Michelangelo's David, who, by the way, was naked.

For you, this kind of photograph was just like a sculpture. But warm, soft, even more real and expressive. You were sure that you would love that kind.

When you got back to your flat, the first thing you did was take a shower. It was the most plausible option after a long and tiring day, not least because you would have to clean up the mess left in your kitchen. In fact, by the time you found yourself having to clean it up, you were starting to get bored, so television would have been a good idea for entertainment at a time when all you wanted to do was sleep. You watched the news, and once again the topic of the day was the countless missing girls in your area. You wondered what was going on and why so many girls had mysteriously disappeared in a matter of days. There were no traces of mysterious serial killers, or even traces and statements from the victims themselves, if there were any. They had not been seen with anyone, nor had anyone talked about them. They had nothing in common. Or at least the police had not been good enough to find out. Well, in fact, the police had failed miserably from the start with the story of these girls' disappearance.

After all, there were no traces of the girls, and you had to clean up quickly because of the stench that was starting to fill the room.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

Finally, the long-awaited day of the exhibition had arrived, and you were excited just to think that you would be able to see such works live, even more so if they were all close to the one on the poster that had caught your eye. You were well dressed for the occasion, you wanted to make yourself presentable. You were also excited to meet the artist. You hadn't read the name, you weren't even interested in meeting him, but as the days went by, your curiosity grew and you did some research to find out who the man was: he was a young man - well, very young - his name was Hwang Hyunjin, a photographer and professor of sculpture. You were very interested in that because those were your two favourite subjects. So you had to admit that you had made yourself beautiful in order to look like that in the eyes of such a man. Also because you had seen pictures of him on some magazine covers and on the Internet, and you had noticed that he was indeed a handsome man. Maybe even more than handsome. He himself seemed to be part of a collection of sculptures.

His features were delicate but masculine, his body seemed well proportioned and he was tall and lean. He had dark, feline eyes and lips that were sure to drive all the women who had ever met him crazy.

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and, after spraying on your ever-present perfume, you left the house, heading for the exhibition. It was Saturday night, the streets of your city were crowded, kids ready to go to some club, men with wives were ready to go to dinner. Saturday night chaos was, as always, inevitable.

You found yourself having to turn down your best friend's invitation to some club just to go to this exhibition. But she understood, she knew how much you loved art and you hadn't missed a single one of these exhibitions that came to your town every year. It was true, you had never missed one. Once you even got a cold and covered yourself well with a huge scarf and a heavy coat. Unlike the way you were dressed today. A tight black dress that stopped at mid-thigh, a long black coat, your beloved lace-up boots and a chignon that gathered your hair delicately. You were truly charming.

When you arrived at the exhibition, you immediately took a glass of red wine that was offered to every visitor. You were enchanted by the splendour that surrounded you. Photographs of all kinds: coloured, black and white, bodies covered in nets, naked bodies, bodies covered in liquids - water, blood - lying in the soil , all one with nature. But the photograph that struck you the most was of a body whose head could not be seen and it was crushed below the knees, while a long stream of blood was falling on it. It was strange, the photo was in white and black, well contrasted, sharp, but the blood had not lost its colour: warm red, carmine. You could feel its density, its fluidity, through the photograph. It had given you goosebumps.

A warm, but not too deep voice distracted you from your thoughts.

«This painting is called Passion's Flood.»

You turned to see the boy you had been searching for, for the past two days, and your mouth almost fell open.

His beauty was even more ethereal in person. The complexion of his skin was almost golden, and those eyes seemed to bore into you. The articles were not wrong, this was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He was elegant, refined, attractive. You didn't even know what adjective to use to describe him, to do justice to such beauty. You were so dazzled that you almost forgot everything you wanted to say to this man.

«Why this name? More to the point, why the adjective 'passion'?» you said as soon as you awoke from your almost trance-like state. The words slipped from your tongue, as did your curiosity as to the real reason for this choice.

It was strange to hear that such an image had been given such a name. You were curious about the definition of 'passion' for this man. Why it was associated with the image of blood. That rich red liquid dripping onto a naked body, accentuating the shape of the woman portrayed. This made the man behind you smile. He approached you and studied you carefully. He examined you from top to bottom. From head to toe. It was inevitable that he would find you a beautiful, attractive, girl. He bit his lower lip and glanced at the work in front of you, then shifted his gaze back to the subject of his interest: you.

«Interesting question, I see you also pay a lot of attention to the names of the works.» your eyes were fixed on his lips, watching them move at the sound of his voice. How he licked them and made them shine. Perfectly swollen and red. Watching him had become more interesting than watching his work. «Inevitably, the intrinsic meaning of the work itself could be understood from the name, but it is interesting how you used the adjective 'passion' to describe a body covered in blood. The work itself is interesting, it is rare to see something like this in an exhibition. You have a fascinating mind, Mr. Hwang.»

This only inflated the ego of the man at your side, who wasted no time in positioning himself in front of his own work. He flashed a smug, satisfied smile, interested in how your mind was working at that moment. He could not stop the instinct, the primal instinct, that inevitably drew him to you. He licked his lips for the umpteenth time and crossed his arms over his chest, allowing the fabric of the jacket he was wearing to fit better over the obviously defined muscles. «Call me by my name. I don't think there's much of an age difference. In any case, the definition of 'Passion Flood' in this case refers to the fact that passion can flare up in any way, at any time. The association with blood is not only because it automatically brings to mind a warm colour, such as bright red, but also because passion flows in our veins, in our blood. The blood itself evokes the heat, the impact, the sensation that passion can give us. A unique adrenaline rush. For few.» you were enchanted by the way his mind worked, the man was a genius.

Not only was he good at shootings, but the way he spoke to you, the tone of his voice, was like a mermaid to a sailor. He would lure you out to sea and then grab you by the tail. His piercing gaze was as if he wanted to trap you and drag you down with him.

«Your definition of passion is interesting, Hyunjin. I can also say that this definition fits perfectly with the way you create your works. If I may say so, this photograph is extraordinary, perhaps one of the best in this exhibition so far. After all, passion is what you do. Photography is in your blood, it is your passion. Art itself, right? Looking at this photograph, I can see the body of the liquid, the vivid colour and the contrast with the chiaroscuro of the body. I can see the softness of the flesh, its silkiness.» When you stopped talking, the man in front of you licked his lips, pleasantly pleased with what your mind could conceive in terms of art.

«Your mind fascinates me, ...?» he paused, clearly inviting you to tell him your name. You felt the blood boiling in your veins, a heat permeating your body. As if him had set it on fire. «Y/N,» you whispered, once again entranced by his beauty. You were sure he had bewitched you somehow. His charm was beyond anything else. Hwang Hyunjin was not just an artist, he was art itself.

«Do you also work in the field of art?» he asked, moving dangerously close to your body. Your mind went blank, he was far too close. You could not say a word. He was like a magnet, the closer he came, the closer you wanted to be. It was crazy how a man could have such an effect on you, who had always declared yourself a woman who would not be intimidated or subjugated by men. But with Hwang Hyunjin it was different. You were under his spell and would let him do anything to you just to feel him near you.

«I take anatomy classes, but in my spare time I take classes in photography and sculpture. Let's say they are my biggest passions», you could see his eyes light up when you said this. That was his moment. Hyunjin could not fail to use this moment to invite you to one of his classes. Yes, among the thousands of things Hwang did, there were also private lessons in sculpture and photography. And you could not help but be delighted, your heart almost leaping out of your chest. The one and only, the magnetic Hwang Hyunjin had personally asked you to join his sculpture class.

As he walked towards you, your bodies colliding, you found yourself squeezing your legs together, you felt a jolt penetrate your intimacy. His lips came to your earlobe and caressed it, «I expect to see you there, Y/N».

Needless to say, when you left that night, all you could think about was Hyunjin's pointed hands running over your body.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

It had been a really tough week at university, you had to dissect several bodies and your placement was about to start. You were going to be a trainee in a forensic laboratory, so your lectures were now harder and the level of attention they demanded was higher. However, the thought of attending evening classes that Friday, taught by Hyunjin - the man who had been on your mind for the past week - helped you relax.

Your best friend was aware of the little fixation you had developed with the man and often used it to tease you. When you told her you were going to meet him in class that evening, she made so many dirty jokes that you wondered if it was still her. But other girls had disappeared in those days and she didn't want you to be one of them. So she was worried. As you prepared to go to class, she had given you more advice than your mother had given you in your entire life. In fact, you felt like a daughter, a little girl to her. It was obvious that you would be careful, you wanted to return home safely.

So you prepared and made yourself beautiful, just to impress the man of your thoughts, and then you left the house, leaving a trail of fruity perfume behind you. That evening, even though the occasion was nothing more than a sculpture class, you had dressed well. You had on a light sweater that left a strip of your belly uncovered, burgundy with vertical stripes of fabric. Loose, baggy jeans below your navel and flats that matched the colour of your shirt. But the breeze that had risen that evening had forced you to put on your beloved leather jacket.

Your hair was loose, falling over your shoulders as one hand held the strap of the bag tightly. You were eager to see how Hyunjin taught during his lessons, eager to see those hands you dreamed of every night on you, running over the fresh clay, shaping it, imagining it to be your body. You were curious to see what this evening would bring, whether it would be as interesting as you thought it would be, or whether it would be a total disappointment.

Arriving at the location indicated on the flyer Hyunjin had given you, your eyes met the moment you crossed the threshold of the hall. He stood out like a marble statue, his hair tied back in a ponytail, a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up and baggy jeans covering a pair of brown and white Nikes on his feet. The piercing in his eyebrow made his gaze at you even more captivating. You entered, bowed and took your seat. They weren't all taken yet, surely he hadn't started because he was expecting a few more people to attend the class.

Behind him were blocks of clay and a table with all sorts of tools and materials for modelling. You assumed that he would be distributing these materials to the students himself, and were not at all surprised to find that most of them were women who were just as interested in the art as they were in the man who was going to teach it to them.

Your gazes were chained as if nothing could break it, it was only interrupted when Hyunjin realised that the hall was now full and it was time to start the lesson. He stood in the middle of the hall with a smile on his face, he was really handsome. He managed to be delicate and attractive at the same time. You were sure that this boy would not be easy to get out of your mind. It was clear that you wanted him more than you thought. «Welcome everyone, this is the first lesson of this course where we will cover the basics and modelling with clay. I have some tools here with me, after I give you a general introduction to the subject, I will hand them out to all of you, along with a lump of clay, so that we can begin the actual course.»

Needless to say, you lost focus after his introduction, too focused on watching his lips move and the vein in his neck throb. You watched his movements carefully, the way the fabric of his shirt occasionally allowed a glimpse of the hollow of his v-zone, the way the material of his jeans clung perfectly to his slender thighs. The man was a dream, and yet he looked like a demon disguised as an angel. His elegant, almost princely movements had managed to hypnotise you. You felt your body go numb and shot through with a long series of electric shocks, all of which landed in your stomach. The sexual tension you felt when standing next to Hyunjin was now sky-high.

It was Hyunjin himself who distracted you from your unchaste thoughts about him. He placed a series of objects on your bench and winked and smiled at you. That made you glow red, and not just on your cheeks. You felt a pleasant warmth spreading through your body and you weren't sure what it would lead to. Certainly nothing good in the state you were in now. «Good to see you here, Y/N.» he whispered in your ear, making you blush again. You lost your words.

As Hyunjin took his place behind a table with all the materials needed to mould the clay, it was fascinating to watch how his wet hands began to caress the block, softening it. Kneading, massaging the malleable material. But the thing that took your breath away again was the way his eyes locked on you as he spoke. As he explained how to handle the clay, as he squeezed it, as he moulded it in his hands, his gaze was fixed on you. You squeezed your legs together, and you were sure he noticed because of the smirk in his eyes. This made you even more embarrassed.

You watched as his tapered fingers created shapes, sweeping over the material, smeared with clay, to shape it to his liking. You wished you were that lump of clay. You wished he would touch you the way he did with that slippery material.

As you began to shape the clay yourself, you hardly thought about Hyunjin's fingers caressing you as you wished. Your mind was lost in the farthest reaches of your thoughts as you concentrated on shaping the lump. You hadn't even noticed Hyunjin watching your hands move as you did with his. His gaze devoured your body and hinted at what was going on in his mind. He was curious how those skilful hands would move around his member. It made him quite aroused, but he could not afford to have an erection in the middle of class by having unchaste thoughts about you.

As the classroom began to empty, the teacher greeted everyone politely and took the opportunity to approach you, who had not noticed anything, still lost in your world and the little statue you were forging. He positioned himself behind you as soon as the last student had left the room, and began to stroke your arms and blow on your neck. It was what brought your head back down to earth. You bit your lower lip as his hands moulded the clay with yours and his warm body clung to yours.

You found yourself gasping as his lips touched your lobe again. This boy would be the end of you, you were sure of it.

«You know, I noticed how your legs tightened at the sound of my voice. I also noticed your eyes burning into my form as I gave this lecture. I'm very curious to know what fantasies are running through your head, little Y/N,» he giggled, then washed his hands in the next sink and invited you to join him. And once again you were hypnotised, enchanted by his voice and his touch. When he took you by the hips, placed you on the only clean counter and spread your legs, you couldn't help but gasp. Words were dead in your throat now, you looked at him with bated breath and all you wanted to do was sink his face between your thighs. «Look what we have here, - he said, stroking your intimacy from above the fabric of your jeans, which he could feel were already wet, - there's no need for you to hide now. I got you,» he whispered again against your neck.

«Hyunjin... Please,» you murmured, your thoughts now clouded by the pleasure of his touch. «What? Tell me what you want,» he taunted you again. Your hand moved to his wrist and pushed it towards the crotch of your jeans. That drove him crazier than you thought.

He unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down to your knees, his gaze resting on the crotch of your now wet panties. You felt no shame, the only thing running through your body now was the adrenaline of being fucked by this man. Your rational part had been switched off by the only one part that had to take over. «Look at you, I haven't even touched you properly and you're already all wet, you little whore. For now you'll be satisfied with what I'm going to give you tonight, if you're good enough you'll get another prize after this one,» your head had fallen back and your back was now arched. It was only with his words that he had been able to bring you to this state. Giggling, he moved the fabric of your panties with two fingers, the same ones that slowly began to massage your walls, while his eyes carefully scanned every corner of your body. You were going crazy, you wanted more and your grip on his wrist let him know it. «Look at you, so needy for my touch. I have a crazy idea that you can't refuse. I need this favour. No one inspires me, attracts me like you do. Be my muse and let me photograph this beautiful, unclothed body,» he whispered into your ear, pushing his fingers further between your pussy lips.

He did not penetrate you, but you were sure that only with this type of touch you could come. You nodded, reeling from the spell he had cast on you, and he smiled, pleased at the state you were in. He moved closer to you, not a kiss, just a bite on your lower lip and one in the hollow of your neck. Which made you quite dizzy with the sensation of his fingers now moving in a circular motion over your intimacy.

«Very good, Princess. Now why don't you cum for me? Like a good girl,» he whispered and began to move his fingers at a speed you didn't think possible. But your mind was clouded and you needed to feel under your hands how much he needed your touch too, so with a grin you grabbed the crotch of his trousers and began to move your hand up and down, feeling how great his length was. But there was no pleasure in doing this from above his jeans, so you inserted your hand into the fabric and with quick movements began to masturbate his intimacy. His moans were satisfying and made your head spin, you were almost in the same state. He growled, moving quickly on your vagina as you did with his member, now a moaning mess, playing with the tip of his member, stimulating it.

It was obvious that after a few minutes you would cum in each other's hands with a loud orgasm, and you did. You screamed her name as her teeth sank into the hollow of your neck, biting it. «I have no class on Tuesday, come here, to this address, my long awaited project will finally come to life,» he whispered in your ear as he licked his fingers covered in your juices, just as you licked yours, soiled with his.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

To say that you had been thinking about what had happened with Hyunjin all weekend was an understatement. The boy hadn't left your mind for a second, nor had the feeling of his fingers over your intimacy. You were constantly thinking about what you had done and the desire to go deeper was alive and growing inside you. It was obvious that you wanted to be fucked by him, so much so that you almost forgot your own name. When Hyunjin was in front of you, all rational thought went out the window. When he had asked you to be his muse, a warmth had grown in your chest and spread between your legs. You couldn't wait to pose naked for him. To let his hands move your body as he wished. Even at that moment, his hands were touching you in your mind, as you rubbed against the pillow in your room, with another news report of a missing girl in the background. But your mind was too busy thinking about Hyunjin to listen to how this girl, unlike the others, you had actually seen in the course of sculpting that the man you dreamed of every night was taking.

When you reached your orgasm, certainly not like you did with Hyunjin's hand, you decided it was the best to take a shower. The next day was the big day you had been looking forward to. You were going crazy. Your best friend had called you to find out the details, but you still hadn't told her what had happened between you and Hyunjin, you would when you maybe had sex fully. Also because that was what you had hoped for most. To hear how he wanted to fuck you. You giggled to hear how she imagined possible scenarios for your encounter, if only she knew how far you had already gone.

When the time and day finally came for you to meet Hyunjin for 'his long awaited project', you couldn't help but feel the shivers running through your body. You wore your hair in a slightly dishevelled bun, a tight black skirt covering you to mid-thigh and a slightly unbuttoned blouse with a burgundy lace-embroidered bra wrapped around your torso. Black boots on your feet and the usual leather jacket over your shoulders.

You gasped as Hyunjin's slim and elegant figure appeared behind you. He was wearing a blue silk shirt that showed his chest, tight black jeans and pointed ankle boots of the same colour. Sunglasses and a necklace surrounded the beauty already present in the man, and the loose hair falling down his neck made him even more attractive in your eyes.

His gaze gave you goosebumps; he approached you with an almost devilish smile and greeted you with a kiss on the lips. At that moment, you felt the ground give away beneath your feet. You looked at him as, smirking at the way he was making you feel, he opened the studio door and let you in first like a gentleman. «I see you've made yourself pretty for me, little Y/N. I like the way you're dressed, that bra fits you like a glove, it's a shame we have to take it off,» he whispered as he slowly removed your leather jacket and put his glasses elsewhere. His voice guided you, sending shivers down your spine. You noticed that all the materials he needed were already arranged in every corner of the studio and understood that he didn't want to waste any time in arranging what he needed. Kissing your neck, he began to remove your shirt, gently running his fingers down your arms and then your torso, then removing your bra as well, cupping your tits with his hands and massaging them, causing you to give a moan of pleasure that made you throw your head over one of his shoulders. «They are perfect, they have a wonderful texture, a perfect shape to be cupped by my hands,» he blew on your shoulder, biting it almost violently. But this action only made you moan even more.

Slowly he began to move his hands down, caressing the rest of your body, making you gasp as he pulled off your skirt and then slowly your panties. You were completely naked to his eyes this time. He bit his lip as he caressed every part of your body, from your breasts to your bottom, cupping and massaging one of your buttocks. «Like a good little girl, take off your shoes and lie down on this wooden hoop,» he said, and you obeyed. Without a word. You felt his eyes burning on you, like fire. You lay down in front of him and let him touch you in any way that would satisfy his desires. When he grabbed the camera, you squeezed your legs together, already feeling the effect of his intense gaze on you.

It made him laugh, but not in amusement. Not at all. It was almost diabolical. You saw how he approached you by getting on top of you and opening your legs, he began to watch how your pussy shrank around nothing, completely wet. This made him move his nose closer to it and blow on it. It had driven you so crazy that you not only let out a long moan, but arched your back so that your vagina was closer to his nose. And he grinned as he slipped two fingers inside you without warning, taking a picture just as your back arched again, your head fell back and your lips parted in a moan. « Very good baby, you are the perfect muse for this project. No one could have done as well as you,» he whispered as he pulled his fingers out from inside you and brought them to his lips, sucking away your juices.

You went crazy, your body was burning even though you were naked, craving his touch, his hands on you. Every time he approached to take your picture, you hoped he would touch you, something more than mere caresses. Even if they were not 'mere caresses'.

But when he put down his camera and caught up with you at a fast pace, you realised that maybe he didn't just want to take pictures. And in the end, that was what you were hoping for. He towered over you with his body, observing how perfect yours was. He caressed every part of you until he lowered himself to your lips and began a ravenous, passionate kiss. You moaned at the contact and his hands began to massage your breasts until, running out of air, he pulled away from your lips and then lowered himself to your breasts and sucked on them voraciously. Your head was elsewhere, you could do nothing but give way to his touch. Your hands were harpooned in his hair, pulling at it. Your legs tightened around his torso as his pelvis moved in search of yours. Hyunjin was mad. He could feel the blood boiling in his veins; he needed to release all the adrenaline coursing through his veins. «My bitch, that's what you are. Just fucking mine. And like a good girl you are going to feed me now,» he smiled almost maniacally as his face settled between your thighs. He had taken off his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans, which were now too tight to contain his obvious erection. You clutched his hair as he began to bite your inner thigh, leaving bite marks and bruises everywhere. But you didn't care, you just wanted to feel him between your legs.

Hyunjin began to take long laps on your cunt, spreading it with his fingers so that he could better slide his tongue between your walls. You were a whimpering mess, all too pleasurable. He sucked and moved his tongue voraciously, as if he really wanted to eat you. He pulled at the lips covering your clit with his teeth and then sucked on them almost violently. You felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't want to come like that, you wanted him to fuck you. «Please Hyunjin...mh...stop...it's too much, I'm about to come...!» you gripped his hair in a vice grip. But that did not matter to him, if it meant making you cum several times in one evening, he would do it without fail.

His mouth was harpooned between your walls, his tongue moving as if he were kissing you and not what was between your legs. You were going out of your mind and the closer you came to orgasm the more he felt it and went fast. «Fuck Hyunjin!» you shouted before cumming all over his face. Which pleased him by the way. He licked his lips and without a second thought started to kiss you again, so much so that you could feel yourself on his tongue. But that was not enough, he wanted you. «I'm going to fuck you so hard you have no idea. Now behave as well as you have so far and suck me off,» he said as he removed the last of his clothes. Your eyes couldn't help but stare at his erection, certainly getting him all the way in your mouth would have been quite a challenge. You watched him ravenously, having dreamed of this moment for far too long. You began to slowly run your hand down the length of him, massaging his balls as well, you were slow, running your fingers along the veins and playing with his head. He looked exhausted to see you like that. His moans became louder. You smiled and took him in your mouth, all the way to his uvula. This made him tighten his grip on your hair, which was clenched in his hands. He pulled hard on them as he fucked your mouth. Your hands were tight on his thighs as you slid it over your tongue. You spit on the tip, then took it back into your mouth and ran your tongue along every vein. Concentrating especially on the tip. «You are fucking phenomenal. My good whore, keep it up, faster,» he said in a broken voice as he used his pelvis to push against your mouth.

It did not take many more thrusts before it poured into your mouth in hot streams. You stared at him intently as you swallowed the liquid. With a grin, now his umpteenth, he ran his thumb between your lips, cleaning them of his own seed and attacking them with an almost violent kiss. It was so quick that you didn't even notice when he slipped two fingers inside you and began to move them quickly as his member became erect again. Seeing you under him like that drove him crazy and he couldn't wait to fuck you the way he wanted to. He wrapped one hand around your neck, making you moan. You didn't know that these things could ever turn you on, but with Hyunjin, with his hands on your body, it was impossible not to. Soon his fingers became four inside you, and the way he twisted them inside you made you think he already knew what your walls looked like.

It was unexpected for you when you were turned over and positioned on all fours with him standing behind you, erupting like one of your many beloved sculptures. He rubbed his erect member against your entrance, making you shiver as only he could. «God, I can't wait to fuck you, if only you could see the way your butthole is clenching around nothing as I rub against you,» he grinned. But you could feel it, you could feel it all right. «P...lease put it in, I need it Hyunjin mmm - make it quick please, fuck m...e» by now you were beside yourself. Your brain was disconnected.

You heard him laugh, pleased that you felt so weak under his touch. But you couldn't help it; it was as if he had cast a spell on you.

Without a word, he thrust into you in one swift motion. You let out a moan, just as he had. He pushed your back down so that your face touched the floor. You were a fire, you felt your body burning and you just wanted more, more and more. «Fuck,» he shouted. He had your hair in his grip as he squeezed your buttocks and began to thrust into you. You felt the floor turn and collapse beneath your body. You felt full and also heard the sounds Hyunjin made. He growled as he thrust into you with dry, precise strokes. «You're so fucking tight and hot. I could come right now,» he growled thunderously. You couldn't answer, too busy enjoying the feel of his dick inside you. But you needed to feel him deeper, you wanted to feel all of him.

You moved your pelvis closer to his, driving him crazy, he bit his lip while you were a moaning mess, doing nothing but mumbling unrelated words to each other. You were going crazy, you wanted to feel him burning inside you, between your walls. «Fuck, yes, shit!» you heard him say as he held your pelvis tightly against his. The strokes were faster, you felt his cock touching your sensitive spot, stimulating it. You were sure it would not be long before you came. He pulled your hair hard towards him and with the hand holding your pelvis he began to push your body against his own, as if you were standing up. He tightened his free hand around your neck and you moaned at the lack of air.

«Plea...se Hyunjin... harder... faster... fuck the...re...» you said incoherently as he bit your neck, leaving an obvious signal. «Shut up, I decide.»

He whispered in your ear, then increased his thrusts. He forced you back onto the cold wood and you felt his body crush yours as he squeezed your neck and thrust into you at a relentless pace. It was impossible at this point not to let out a loud, high-pitched moan along with your humours.

«Very good, Princess. Now make me come, like a good girl,» he said, overstimulating you, by this time you had reached your limit, your body was weak. But the sound of his thrusts drove you even crazier. After a few final thrusts, you toothed in the hot, sticky fluid that filled your hole. You moaned along with him, riding out his orgasm as his seed dripped from your thighs. He growled and let go of you, kissing your shoulder.

You never expected him to clean you up by putting his tongue between your buttocks and licking away his own cum. This made you moan at his touch, causing him to giggle, which made his tongue vibrate inside your hole.

As he stood up and began to clean it up, including you, he leaned towards your face and blew on your lips, leaving a slow, passionate kiss. «I want you here this Friday, Y/N.»

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

Days later, you were still thinking about the way Hyunjin had fucked you so well in the photo room. You couldn't get it out of your head. Even when you found yourself cleaning up the huge stinking mess you had made. That day you had made more of a mess than usual, you had to be more careful the next time.

When you had finished cleaning up the mess, you decided it would be better for you to eat: you had to cook lunch. The next day you were to meet the man who had been in your thoughts for two weeks. You couldn't think of anything else. Hyunjin really seemed to have cast a strange spell on you. But you didn't mind. Just like it hadn't bothered you to feel that his body was completely connected to yours.

After a quiet lunch you decided it would be best to organise your tools and materials, after this morning they were all in a mess and you hated mess. You had even left them out of storage the last time. So you stood patiently in front of your cupboard, arranging the duffel bag that you jealously guarded. Meanwhile, you wondered why the police still hadn't found anything about the girls. The number had increased enormously, and whoever was making them disappear had to be an expert to get away with it without leaving any evidence. You'd like to ask yourself who would ever be able to go unnoticed for almost twenty days while the police still hadn't found anything. After tidying up the mess you had made, you decided that it might be best to think about what to wear to meet Hyunjin tomorrow. You were extremely impatient.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

And there you were, in front of the usual studio. Where Hyunjin had arranged to meet you. You had dressed up, a black over the knee coat, your usual leather jacket, black boots and this time your long hair was over your shoulders. However, you noticed that the studio door was already open; maybe Hyunjin was already inside, just waiting for your arrival. You bit your lip, unsure what to do.

What would be wrong with going in?

So you did, but no one was there.

«Hyunjin?» you called, hoping that the man would appear before you. But curiosity got the better of you and you started walking around the studio, which was large but not too crowded. There were scattered tools, pieces of clay and photographic paper. But there was one thing that caught your eye. The door to a small room was half open, and from it came a strong smell that you knew too well. You were used to the smell. But you wondered why it was coming from the cupboard in Hyunjin's study and why you had never smelled it before, since you had been there twice before. So you went to the door, opened it and put your hand to your mouth.

You had just found the culprit behind the disappearance of so many girls in your town.

There were so many heads arranged in rows on tables, the blood had been cleaned off, but the skin looked intact, as if it had not decomposed. They looked like so many porcelain dolls. You started to get closer when you felt a presence behind you and your breath caught in your throat. «Someone found something they weren't supposed to see, don't you think, Princess?» you turned around so slowly that when you saw him covered in blood, an electric shock almost ran through your entire body.

But you were not afraid; your curiosity had overcome your fear.

«How did you make them so porcelain-like and not get caught?» you whispered as his body clung to yours, crushed against the wall. He chuckled, trying to see an edge of fear in your face. He was surprised to find none. That made you even more special and unique in his eyes. No one had ever been like you before. «Aren't you afraid? Ask me how I made them like this instead of running away and reporting me to the police,» he laughed. But you smiled, grabbed his hair and brought his face closer to yours. Lips on lips. «I'm not afraid. In fact, I'm curious. You made them look like so many disembodied dolls. Where did you throw their bodies without getting caught? It takes talent,» the answer made his eyes sparkle.

You were definitely different.

He grabbed you by the neck and tightened his grip. But you weren't afraid, you were sure he wouldn't hurt you. He was just angry because you made him feel different. Because it was you. You made him want you more than anything.

He slipped a hand under your dress, felt how wet the crotch of your panties was.

You giggled.

«You are different. You are not afraid. You're turned on by all of this, you sick little whore,» you laughed. At the top of your lungs. You pulled him closer with one leg and rubbed your pelvis against him, moaning. «I may have a dark little secret of my own, my dear Hyunjin. How about we take advantage of it?» you bit his lip. His head was spinning, he felt his hands burning. «First tell me about this dark little secret you little bitch,» you pressed your bodies together and felt yours almost catching fire, you wanted it. Again. At least you wanted him to make you come.

«Haven't you ever wondered why I take anatomy lessons when my passion is something else?» you giggled, leaving him confused. You were like him. «I love dissecting corpses even more when they are fresh and made by me, squeezing organs in my hands, and I would love to see them intact forever. Why don't you tell me your little secret? How do you make those heads like that?» you moaned under his touch, quickly rubbing your cunt against his thigh, wetting it. «You're fucking crazy,» he laughed maniacally and then began a fierce kiss, as if your bodies were about to catch fire. You continued to move on his thigh, moaning his name on your lips as you jerked him off over his trousers. All this was turning you on more than you thought. Your breath was short, you couldn't hold back any longer, so you let out a long moan, you on his leg and him in his trousers. It was fast but intense.

«How about cooperating, princess?» he laughed, still above you. «With great pleasure,» you whispered growling into his mouth.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

After that day, you invited Hyunjin to your house and showed him your collection. It was funny to see his surprised face. He never expected to see that side of you. That day, you orchestrated the perfect plan. Your victims had rarely been women, and his were all women. He also explained to you how he chose his victims, his modus operandi : he often went to this café frequented by students, and often heard these girls squawking like chickens and insulting art, a thing he revered. So did the woman's body. So why not get rid of them after seducing them and keep the body as a prize? It was a perfect idea in his mind. So he decided to prove it to you himself.

You stood at the table behind him and a certain Sasha, he had met her that morning when he brought you your coffee and decided that she would be the ideal victim. You watched as he tried to seduce her with a grin, running his hand down her back to her bottom. You bit your lip, a little jealous of the touch he was reserving for her.

When they got up, you followed them silently, already knowing where Hyunjin was taking her: at the back of his study was a large chamber where he carried out his murders and burned the remaining bodies: the clay oven, a very good idea, you thought.

Everything happened very quickly, the way he undressed her and she undressed him. You trembled. You hated to see the way the girl touched him. He was almost ready to fuck her when, with a wink, he moved you forward and handcuffed the girl's hands and feet. But she screamed in vain, the walls were soundproofed, Hyunjin really had thought of everything.

He took off your clothes, stroking your body, and put them aside with his own so they wouldn't get dirty. After all, it was impossible to remove blood stains from the fabrics. He bit your shoulder and patted your ass, then stood statuesque in front of the girl. You watched closely as he slit her throat with a sharp knife, splashing blood everywhere. And you flanked him as he opened her chest and began to harvest the organs that he would soon show you how to embalm. You loved it.

Soon a pool of blood spread beneath your bodies. You sat on his naked pelvis, as bloodied as he was. He brought the knife between your mouths and you did not hesitate a moment before licking the blood off the metal, crossing your tongue with Hyunjin's. His vermilion hands cupped your breasts, your thighs. Your body. You were the woman he adored. His muse. The half he shared his madness with. His illness. Your mouths met, you drew your lips together, biting your tongues. It was a fierce, ravenous, passionate kiss. Your intimacy rubbed against your naked pussy, wet and warm. You couldn't wait to fuck him. He bit your neck ravenously. As if he wanted to eat you. You loved the way he was so impetuous with you, so passionate. He drove you crazy. «How about we play a little princess?» he grinned, then put two fingers to your vagina and began to move them quickly. Your moans were disconnected and his lips were tight on your breasts, sucking on your nipples and pulling on them with his teeth. Your hands were harpooned in your hair, pulling at it. You definitely wanted more.

He entered you slowly, playing with your walls. As he licked the blood from your body. «Mhh, Hyunjin faster please,» you begged him, pressing your pelvis against his. You wanted more, you wanted him inside you. Your hand reached his intimacy and began to play with his glans, pressing your thumb on the tip so that he moaned. You loved seeing him like that under your touch, even more so when he was completely covered in blood. His hand reached your neck as you decided his fingers were not enough to satisfy you and stood up, sitting straight on his cock. This caused him to moan sharply. «Have a good ride, Hyunjinie,» you whispered in his ear. And he grinned. He took his fingers, smeared with blood and your fluids, into his mouth to lick it all off and then push it into your mouth, playing with your tongue as your walls adjusted to his thick length. You pulled your head back as he tired of waiting and gave a precise thrust inside you, gripping your neck tightly. You loved it when he did this. You began to jump up and down on his length, letting out moans that fortunately no one could hear thanks to the soundproof walls. Hyunjin bit his lip hard as you humped him. He loved the feeling of watching you riding him. He felt a unique warmth running through his body.

But he was tired; speed and strength were not enough for him. He made you lie down in that pool of blood, put his hands under your knees and bent your legs towards your breasts. He entered you with a precise thrust, as if he knew just the right spot to hit you, and your loud moaning let him know that was exactly where he needed to thrust. So with almost animal speed he resumed his thrusts inside you. He put your legs on his shoulders while he held your neck tightly with one hand and played with your clit quickly with the other. It drove you crazy. Your moans were now as uncontrollable as the times Hyunjin had cried out in pleasure. «Fuck Princess, how good you take me. Your pussy is perfect for me, so ,warm. You fucking hold me so well, you little whore,» he growled. You couldn't help but moan loudly at those words. You couldn't speak, every time you tried to say something the words died in your throat.

«I'm... coming... fucking H... Hyunjin for fuck's sake! Ther...e yeah!» you moaned one last time before tightening your warm walls around his cock. «Fuck I'm about to come too, squeeze me so fucking tight.» And he, now at the top of his lungs, poured hot streams into you, filling you. But he didn't come out; he decided to tear himself all over you as he filled you, letting his cum drip out of your cunt.

You stroked his long wet hair as he kissed your breasts. «You are mine forever, just know that,» he whispered, biting you. You giggled. «I wasn't planning on looking for anyone else after you, Hyunjin,» he smiled, then looked at you and licked a drop of blood that had fallen from your shoulder.

«I like you covered in blood.»

TAGLIST 🎀 : @gloomy-k @raindropsondragons @linocvp1d @iiamthedramaa @snowyquokka @pynchkilledme @y4kie @ihrtlix @sugarsweetsugarsweet @rylea08 @skzswife @hyunjinhoexxx @hyunjinnie2000 @boi-bi-ahaha @nanamongmong @yongbokkiesworld @hyunjinnnsgirl @reader1221

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[hereisleo]

stardust in our veins/

w/ s.mg x reader

g/ college!au, fluff, budding romance

w.count/ 2814

a.n/ in which upcoming astrophysicist and model song mingi is in a dilemma over the soon to be love of his life. a part of ‘back to school’ writing event with @kpopscape

t.w/ swearing

“The universe is under no obligation to make sense to you.”

Well, fuck. Mingi thinks his luck is the worst. The one time he needed the universe to make sense of course it wouldn’t. Then again turning to his astrophysics texts for guidance in the matter of love is the wrong place to start. Love doesn’t make sense like the universe, much of it still undiscovered and will continue to remain so. There’s only so much humans can learn and that by no means is little. He’s simply too finite to understand all the ways the universe has to offer. The perks of being mortal in his opinion.

His phone lights up, a notification appears on his screen. Don’t be late, Min! Right, he has to model for his friend tonight. He sends a quick confirmation text, a little cute onomatopoeia of ‘ang!’ Out of place with his stoic exterior yet that’s how he is, best of both worlds. Mathematics and astrophysics. Fashion industry and music. He could make it anywhere he wants to be. Mingi is confident in himself, he knows he has most of the skills set required to pursue all of his dream occupations. So he straightens the loose pages of a printed pdf file and tuck them into its folder. He could buy the textbooks but why would he do that? He likes to eat the rich so to speak. All his earnings go to tuition and he would live smartly to make it through another year.

The chair squeaks in the quiet library and he winces, slightly apologetic at the flinches from students studying in the library. He doesn’t dwell much in it, he slings his back over his shoulder and pushes his chair in, lifting it a touch to prevent the grating noise. He nods at the librarian and mouths his, ‘bye.’ And it’s just him and his little kidney beans, AirPods, pumping music into his ears. He makes his way around the ground, weaving through passing students going to different classes, the stares he receives are not foreign. He’s used to it. He’s always a head and some more taller than the average or maybe it’s his clothes or his colourful hair or the way he carries himself is out of place within the Department of Astrophysics. Mingi looks like someone from the Department of Arts. A fashion or music student. Some would say he’s here because of an athletic scholarship. He is simply exercising his freedom to wear whatever he wants.

Sik-K’s “Habibi” starts playing and he mumbles his curses, a love and hate relationship he has with his playlist. He just managed to distract himself from thinking about love and here he is, back to wallow in his one-sided pining. Pitiful. You’re pathetic, Song Mingi. His strides languidly back to his shared apartment, not too far off from campus, he could take the car but he likes to walk when the weather is nice. He wonders when did he begin liking you. The first time he sees you is in the Arts building when you were fitting his feline-like friend into a stage costume. He thinks he fell for how your brow knits together in concentration as your fingers deftly repaired loose embellishment of pearls on the velvet suit jacket. He vividly recalls how inky the fabric was, similar to the sky that night, Mars was visible from the big window at the fashion studio. He would catch glimpses of you here and there and because of that, his visits to the Arts building increased. His friends caught on immediately and they wouldn’t live it down.

Before he knows it, he’s already punching the security codes on his door. A happy greeting of his name falls short with an amused laugh. Even his best friend could tell, he’s wallowing in his feelings. Mingi whines, kicking his shoes off before unceremoniously taking all the space on the couch. Good thing his playlist has come to its end, he takes out the little kidney beans from his ears and let it rest on the coffee table.

“Love doesn’t make sense, Yunho,” he groans, burying his face against the giant brown bear plushie. A hand pats his head, “Love doesn’t make sense and so does the universe yet you love them the same.” Mingi thinks Yunho has been skimming through his astrophysics texts but highly unlikely, Yunho doesn’t enjoy reading. He sighs and nuzzles deeper into the belly of the soft toy. Hell, he much rather snuggle with you but alas you’re a distant star out of his reach. He could only see you behind the lenses of his telescope. He will make do with the bear and his friends for now. He likes being alone, he likes his space but he hates the feeling of loneliness that comes out to play every once in a while. More often now since he has you to pin over. His friends could only do so much for him.

Fuck you, Kim Hongjoong. Mingi keeps his head low and skirts around the photographer. You. He isn’t not aware you’ll be shooting him today, figuratively and literally. Yeosang has a shit eating grin on his face when Mingi sits on the chair to get his makeup done. “Not a word, Yeosang,” he mumbles and the grin widens. His friend only wipes his face clean before starting off with a quick skincare. He’s used to this, the gentle toner in white and blue packaging and the light cream patted into his skin. His friend went the length to purchase them specifically for him. He keeps his eyes trained on the mirror, tracking your movements all over the studio, talking to Hongjoong, toying with the navy and silver camera strap. He remembers buying the strap for Jongho when the old one was too worn out for use. It reminds him of the starry sky and it’s now in your hold. He bites his lip, it shouldn’t feel intimate yet here he is almost astral projecting because it feels as if you are holding part of his universe. Stop it, Mingi!

His pseudo makeup artist taps his abused lip with a warning tut, a red stain is smudged lightly before a clear gloss is patted over them so it doesn’t dry out his lips. Yeosang always scolds him for having chapped lips and this time Mingi sports dark smokey eyes, he could see hints of burgundy mixed into the brown shadows. Yeosang gives him a wink before sending him off to change. Hongjoong is a genius for designing outfits and he’s honoured to be one of the models walking in it. He wishes nothing but the best for the clothing line launch to be successful but he would be lying if he doesn’t want to wipe the smirk off the designer’s face right now.

Your fingers graze the skin of his back, his shoulders tensed and he presses his lips together to prevent any noise from escaping his mouth. Fuck this shoot. You’re just pinning his jeans because it’s slightly too big. Mingi wants to run home into the comfort of his bed and screams. Your radiating body heat is so warm and perhaps this is as close as he would ever to touch you, the human embodiment of the universe. He shouldn’t be this hypersensitive yet here he is flustered beyond his imagination. His lungs feel like they are collapsing. You are the 3-degree temperature difference in intergalactic space he learned about. His body couldn’t manage to reach equilibrium. Being around you makes his blood cells want to burst, the lack of atmospheric pressure puts a dizzy spell on him. Mingi thinks you’re an amazing being like the supercharged subatomic particles travelling almost just as fast as the speed of light. There’s only 0.1% difference. Magnificent.

Hongjoong and Yeosang smirk at his struggles. They are no strangers to his ‘internally screaming’ countenance. Mingi would have book it if they let him suffer any longer. He takes one look into the mirror, the long leather coat adds some invisible height to him, he appears taller than he already is and the chunky ribbed turtleneck accentuate his long neck. He glances over to the few more pieces hanging on the rack. Hongjoong kills it with the A/W capsule collection. He couldn’t wait to get into the patchwork trench coat and the purple overshirt that catches his attention since the prototype era. The universe has expanded further into infinity since then.

A gentle call of his name and the barely there touch on his back jolts him out of his reverie, eyes boring into yours almost bewitched. Your hand is right over where his birthmark is hidden under the layers of fabrics. “Mingi?” Your voice. Damnit, it’s so soft to his ears and the way his name rolls off your tongue raises the hairs on his arms. He dazedly hums in response, “Yes, stars?” The composition of a human being is as old as the universe itself, there are stardust running in the veins of mortals. He sees the brightest stars in your eyes. He doesn’t realise what he just called you, the term of endearment he refers you as in his head slips out to be immortalised. Sound waves travel into space and beyond, he can’t take back what he said. Your cheek is hot under his fingertips, in moments of bravery or stupidity, Mingi manages to string together a sentence, “Let’s take some pictures shall we?”

Bless Hongjoong for hooking up the music. He would run away if Taemin’s “Criminal” didn’t start playing. Don’t explode now. One more step to the front of the red backdrop. What foolish action did he do? How did he have the courage to talk to you and more over actually feel your skin under his fingers? He wants to scream and curl up on the floor. I did not just do that! Yeosang gives him a thumbs up for the corner of the studio. Thank heavens for his friends. He lets the electronic beats fill him and he loses himself in the act. His friends once told him, he’s a good actor. Now is the time for him to maximise the skill. A teasing drag of his bottom lip between his teeth, the smouldering gaze as he pierces through the camera lens straight at you just as the lyrics spews, ‘Destroy me more.’ Two can play this game and Mingi finds it relieving to find he’s not the one who is affected. It doesn’t quite make sense to you how he likes you and it doesn’t quite make sense to him how you like him. He’s not built for chasing love but now he knows you do have an interest in him, he takes the liberty to pursue it. He wouldn’t pour his love onto you yet. He has class and he’s not going to do anything that might spook you. Yes, he acts like an idiot sometimes but he’s not an idiot. He wants to make sure if you really have taken a liking of him or if he’s merely a passing interest. He doesn’t like getting hurt.

One wardrobe change and then two, the playlist continuous on, the hours blurred together. Mingi is in his last outfit, lying on the brown leather couch covered with colourful rugs and you’re hovering over him with the DSLR. He gives you, no, he means the camera, his best smirk and provocative lift of his eyebrow. From the corner of his eyes, Yeosang and Hongjoong are curling into each other to stifle bubbling laughter while monitoring all the shots appearing on the computer. The addictive riff of “Teeth” by 5 Seconds of Summer has him unbuttoning the purple overshirt. His friends are slapping each other and he hears you take sharp intake of breath. He is enjoying this way too much and he might as well. If he’s going to explode now is the time. Before the night ends, before the sky lightens, he would explode like a supernova, powerful and bright enough for its light to glow for more than a week. It’s rather selfish of him to make himself linger in your mind in a rather unorthodox fashion but he couldn’t help it, the opportunity is there for the taking. At some point the two nuclei would collide to create a new element, Mingi hopes it’s his and yours.

The following day Mingi wakes up to a series of texts in the group chat. The sheer amount of caps lock yelling are not anything new so he didn’t check it yet. He raises his arms and lets his muscles sing with the stretch. His feet kiss the cool floor and he makes his way out to do his day off routine. “Morning, Yunho,” he greets, his voice still rough from sleep, it sounds deeper even to his own ears. He hears his roommate rustling about in the living room and feet padding hurriedly to his direction, “Afternoon already, Min! And you can’t say that nonchalantly after what you did last night! You didn’t tell me this!” What did he do last night? Ah, right! He was modelling for Hongjoong, saw you and flirted with you indirectly through the camera lens. Yunho shoves his phone in front of him.

An A-cut photograph from the shoot is attached in the chat by Hongjoong. He was in the half open purple overshirt and sunglasses hanging between his teeth, glaring straight at whoever is looking at the picture. Consecutive texts from his friend group are under it, nothing but praises and Yunho is always first to compliment him. My best friend right there! Following the trail of text bubbles, he finds a short video. He presses the play button and immediately blushes, hiding his face in his hands with an exasperated sound. Last night model Mingi was brave enough to reach for the camera. In fact, he reached past it and cradled your cheek in his palm. “It was for the shoot!” Yunho pockets his phone. “Mingi. You eye fucked the camera through and through. In fact, it’s not the camera, it’s your ‘stars’.” The mirth in Yunho’s voice is enough to draw another whine from him. He couldn’t find fault in his best friend’s statement.

He has to go back in again today and how is he supposed to face you? I should call in sick. Yet with that thought he still works the coffee machine, his body moving rotely and his friend sidles next to him to help him with lunch. He could still sense the excitement radiating from the puppy-like man. An avocado toast later, Mingi is sent out with a cheery, “Have fun!” The little kidney beans are back in his ears, a mellow summer song soothes his pounding heart. The moon peeks between buildings as if to tell him it’s rooting for him. In such an aspect, he thanked the pile of regolith and dead volcanoes hanging in space.

His takes longer strides to the campus ground, arriving earlier than expected, his body understands the excited energy simmering under his skin. To see you standing in front of the Arts building entrance sparks something in him. Don’t do or say anything weird, Mingi. He breaks into a jog, calling your name properly this time. It’s an exaggeration but this is what he thinks being struck by a space debris must feel like. The shy wave of your hand and the sunlight blanketing your skin are enough to set his heart racing. “You look different today.” He supposed he does look different to you. Your encounters with him are always within the confinement of Hongjoong’s studio. You never see him in his casual state, so the messy, half wet hair from the shower earlier, the all sweats get-up he is in and the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose are foreign to you. Hell, you never see him cooing at a soft toy or notice how slow he eats. “Have you eaten yet?” That’s good, Min, that’s a safe question. You nod with a smile, pocketing away your phone, “Just enough to get through the meeting.” Mingi wants to curl up on the floor, what is he going to do with your undivided attention on him?

“Shall we grab something together afterwards?” He curls his hands into fist within the pockets of his sweatpants. What the hell did he just ask you? He needs that space debris to smite him out of existence right now. The endearing shy smile on curving your cheeks upwards has him biting his tongue. Mingi thinks a space debris really has vaporised him, your answer leaving him a stuttering blushing mess. “It’s a date then.”

“The universe is under no obligation to make sense to you.”

[ajokeformur-ray]

Forever is in your eyes  // J x Lilith // comfort, angst, fluff.

Summary: Joker has a nightmare which triggers his PTSD. You have no choice but to reach into the roiling, murky waters of his psyche and pull him out. You remind him of his humanity, again and again, and nothing he could ever say could ever thank you enough for it. In the end, he need not speak. You look at him and you just... know.

Warnings: PTSD mentions (briefly), nightmares, reader + Joker crying, blood mentions (not within the piece but is spoken about), some heavy sensual stuff (kissing and grinding). If I’ve missed anything, let me know and I’ll add them here <3

Personalised gift for @jokershyena​; I’m spoiling you today, darling, because it’s what you deserve. I hope you like this; I know we already spoke about it but I wanted to immortalise it for you. Female pronouns and ‘Lilith’ is used for the name, personal details included with full permission. 

Word count: 3, 743.

3 AM.

You needed total darkness to sleep and so the room was suspended in pitch black which was so deep that you couldn’t even see your hand an inch from your face, your skin just ghosting across the surface of your nose. You took comfort in your own touch. It proved to you that though you felt disembodied within the penetrating night, you were still very much alive. Safe. Whole. Awake.

Used were you to being awake during the early (or was it late?) hours that you thought little of being awoken by something which was not yet clear to you. Still... you could feel the heavy presence of J beside you on the bed and you wanted to lean into the warmth which was radiating off of his body so strongly that you almost didn’t need the duvet to keep you protected from the natural chill of the apartment. You were never careful about touching J when he was sleeping, for he was at liberty to do the same to you, but something just felt... wrong this night. Subconsciously had you picked up on something which was in the room; not a physical entity and nothing tied to your horrific experiences with sleep paralysis or even your nightmares, but there was a feeling that you had, and you needed to listen to it.

Resolving to not fall back asleep just yet, so strong was that feeling, but not wanting to keep your eyes open for much longer, for you knew how easily your mind could play tricks on you if you stared into the dark for too long; you closed your eyes and settled back into the night, which surrounded you like a cloak. Light snores punctuated the steady deep, comforting and familiar sound of J’s breathing, and you shuffled forward slightly, just wanting to surround yourself so completely with everything that J was that the rest of the world slipped away, and faded into obscurity.

You still knew not what had woken you as you settled back down into the warm cocoon that was your duvet, perfectly fallen over your slumbering form was it to protect you from the natural chill of the night. As you shifted and turned over to face J in the hopes of getting some more sleep before you had to be awake for college, you heard the first sign of the incoming storm:

A small whimper.

“J?” You whispered, reaching a blind hand out into the impenetrable darkness which so often mirrored your Joker’s mind; impossible to see through, harder still to navigate, and yet did it offer you comfort to be shielded so completely from the world. “J?” Your hand landed upon a warm patch of skin and you cautiously felt around for an indication of which body part you were touching; if it was anything other than innocent, you would keep going but you still wanted to know what you were touching. How else were you going to get ideas on how to wake him up?

You followed the patch upward onto a curve, which was near slightly greasy strands of hair... You were touching his arm. Oh, help you, you were slightly disappointed. With a firmer grip did you lightly squeeze, to reassure your sleeping partner of your presence even in his sleep. So light a sleeper was he that he would feel you, this you knew, even if he didn’t wake.

Another whimper, though this time was it a bit more drawn out in length, the pitch a little higher. You couldn’t see but you could feel that J was moving his head back and forth on the pillow. His movements were slow, but he was definitely having a fitful rest and your stomach was beginning to sink low as realisation set in. All at once did you feel sick, helpless... but not hopeless.

You trailed your hand down, down, to slide your fingers between the spaces of his own, feeling the cool outline of his wedding band on his finger, which was deliciously hot in contrast. The feeling of the ring even in the darkness made you smile so wide that you almost felt embarrassed. But then, why should you ever hide how your love for this one man, this agent of chaos, made you feel. even when there was no one to see you?

You were anything but hopeless so long as you had J and he had you.

You squeezed his hand and took courage from the same man who was filling you with fear as you said, “J - J!”

J moaned and the sound jolted to your heart. He sounded as if he was in pain and like a tidal wave did reality fully wash over you. It chased away the warmth which had filled you from feeling the wedding band, the tangible display of your love, and the physical warmth created by the tiny pocket of space underneath the duvet. Being in such close proximity to the heater that J was only served to make your bed warmer still, and you were almost glad of the still chilly climate outside the confines of your large bed.

He was in the throes of a nightmare. Though he hadn’t told you everything about his past; from his time in the military right up to how he acquired his Glasgow smile to the horrific loss of his wife, to having to get used to civilian life as well as handling his PTSD - he had been alone through it all, you had gathered, and you had easily put the pieces together from the scraps of information he had offered you and come up, somehow, with the truth. It was for this reason, as well as the undying and unconditional, frankly overwhelming sense of love which you had for him, that you were filled with so much fear as you desperately tried to wake him up.

Upon this realisation did you carefully adjust so that your head was supported on the palm of your hand, your elbow almost digging painfully into the plush mattress. You leaned forward so that with pursed lips could you feather your lips against the corner of his jaw, letting the tip of your nose rest against his skin. He smelled of greasepaint even though you had made him wash his face earlier in the evening, and you took a moment to just breathe him in, using the heat from his skin, the very slight stubble around his jaw which tickled your face, the feeling of him beneath you... your eyes slide closed and you hummed in love, your lips pursing as you kissed his face over and over and over, taking this time to soothe him as best as you could. You hoped, somewhere in the back of your mind, that the minute traces of your love left over on his face from your kisses would soak into his skin and comfort him from the inside.

J grunted and you felt the sheets beneath your body tighten as he fisted the material in his large fists, his head still turning back and forth on the pillow. Increasingly did he grow restless, even with you shushing him gently, soothingly as you pressed your forehead against his cheek. You shifted further around on the bed so that you could cuddle into J as tightly as you could, your eyes stinging with worried tears. “Shush, J, shush, I’m right here.” 

You cooed softly as you slid an arm underneath J’s shoulders, your hand curling around the opposite arm as you pulled him into your side. You lay back down, hoping desperately that he would wake up soon. Your other hand went into his hair, which you soothed back, stroking gently as you continued to shush him, periodically leaning down so that you could press kisses to whichever parts of him were immediately available to you. You couldn’t see a thing, so you were going off of muscle memory in navigating yourself around J’s body.

“No,” J groaned. It was the only coherent word you could make out amongst his muttering, the sound of which was angry. But you knew J better than that and you knew that, whatever he was experiencing, he was scared. “Not - not the face - no.”

Your blood ran cold and you bit down hard on your bottom lip to keep yourself from crying out. Those tears dripped down your cheeks and fell down onto J’s bare chest like rain on pavement. “Oh,” You sighed, the sound heavy with tears, “I’m so sorry, J. Your hyena’s here. No one’s gonna hurt you - my J.” You pressed your forehead to the side of his face and closed your eyes, holding him as close to you as you could, willing him to wake up so that you could properly comfort him. 

You continued to stroke his hair, kiss his face, pressing your body as close to him as you could without laying atop him; you could only guess at what he was having a nightmare about but you knew that when he woke up, it would likely be with a physical jolt off the mattress and you didn’t want a broken nose this night... or any night. “I’m here, J. Like hell if I’m going anywhere. You’re safe.” You stopped talking and just focused on keeping your hands on him. He could feel you and you concentrated on making sure that he knew that even in the throes of his nightmare were you right there with him.

A tense unmarked passage of time passed, marked only by your own breathing, which you deliberately kept steady hoping that it’d reach J, too; if he could feel that you were calm, perhaps he’d calm down too. The time you spend in the dark cradling J to you, kissing all over his face and stroking his hair, murmuring comfort to him and shushing soothingly, was also tracked by the rise and fall of J’s chest and the way that his head stopped moving about the pillow; his fists eased by on the sheets, and he grew still.

Relief flooded your system.

Still he did not wake, but he was calmer now, his body tense but it was enough for you. You sighed and pressed a series of feather light kisses all over his face in quiet gratitude. “Why do you never let me help you when you’re in pain, J? I wish I could do more for you.” Your whispers vanished into the night, eaten by the silence which was thunderously loud as it rang in your ears.

Just as you relaxed and allowed the weight of your body to fully relax into the plush mattress, J gasped and shot upright like a bullet from a gun and you jumped before you scrambled to sit up, your hands reaching out for J. You used your own experiences - plentiful were they - to help him as best as you could while he panted, his chest heaving.

“Blood - the blood - get it - so much blood - “ 

Shattered fragments of a sentence not fully formed within J’s tried and tired mind broke through the quiet of the night, and for the second time that night did your blood run cold. His scars. Your heart seized at the thought of what must have happened to him when he had come home from the military, discharged for medical reasons, his face scarred and brutalised beyond measure. It would have hurt him to eat, to speak, to breathe... even expressing his pain would have increased it. Your heart bled for him and you wanted more than even to comfort him, to soothe him. Your handsome clown. Yours.

“J, J! You’re safe, you’re safe.” Your hands landed upon his upper arms, somehow, and J started before he calmed upon hearing your voice. “There’s no blood, honey. No blood.” You couldn’t show him that there was no blood with your hands, for dark still was it within the room, but you could speak and J would have to listen. He trusted you as he trusted no other.

“Lil - Lilith?”

You nodded, smiling into the darkness. “It’s me. You’re safe, J.”

J shuddered and you rubbed circles into his skin, desperately trying to ground him with your touch. “The blood...” His voice was cracked, broken, his breaths coming in harsh pants. “My face... the scars.”

You leaned forward, your hands solidly tracing across his back as you pulled him into an embrace. The both of you were sat up in bed now, side by side, and so it was somewhat awkward for you to hug him, but you managed it. Nothing would ever stop you from getting to J if you wanted him. And you did. You did. 

One of your hands slid alongside his skin and came to curve around J’s cheek, your thumb rubbing soothingly. You were slow, gentle, careful, and when you reached the tell tale ridge on his face did J stiffen and his breaths devolved into harsh pants. “Shush, J,” You were whispering and you leaned forward to press delicate, barely there kisses to his scars, using touch to guide you to where he was and where you most wanted to be. “There’s no blood. You’re safe. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

J shuddered beneath your touch but he sunk into your embrace, allowing you to completely surround him just as surely as the darkness did. You continued to kiss along his face, your lips the healing balm which his tortured soul, hidden any so many incomprehensible layers of anger, needed. J began to hum underneath your touch, his hands creeping out of the warm cocoon of the duvet to clutch at your wrist, his fingers very deliberately resting on your pulse point. He was grounding himself using your body and you longed to see his face and for J to see you looking back at him, but you didn’t want to push him. His breathing was only just beginning to calm down. 

The act of you dropping your hand from his cheek so that you could go back to holding him seemed to prompt J back into talking.

“My scars,” J’s voice was a low growl punctuated with deep inhales and rushed exhalations, as though his lungs couldn’t hold any oxygen within them for too long. “I was a soldier. Taken, tortured... They, ah - cut into me real deep.”

Your stomach rolled and you felt bile rising up in your throat to think of just what had happened to J. It had been years ago, almost a decade, but he was still suffering from horrific nightmares which weren’t concocted from within his imagination, which would have been slightly easier to deal with, but from his memories, dredged up from the murky depths of his damaged psyche to rip through his current grip on reality, leaving him dizzy and breathless.

“You don’t have to tell me.” A part of you hoped that he wouldn’t.

But J, feeling vulnerable in the rawness of the mental wounds which had been ripped open this night, did.

You listened in silent horror as all of your suspicions, thoughts, theories and the like were all revealed to be true. You were smarter than you had thought, then. When at last his story had finished did you shuffle even closer to J, so that you were almost on his lap. “I’m so sorry, J,” You pressed a tender kiss to his face, and J hummed. You felt a hot hand on your cheek as J turned your face so that he could kiss you properly, his full lips against yours. You had no idea how he was able to tell where you were or even if he could see, but you were grateful for this new skill of his. You briefly wondered if he could see in the dark. “No one should have to go through all of that. You were so brave and in so much pain and - “

J laughed, long and deep, and you stopped talking. There were no words. There was nothing you could say that wouldn’t say what he already knew, and so you didn’t even bother trying. There was only one thing you could say, however, and it was this: “You’re so handsome, J, even with your scars.”

There was a pause and then J was completely gone from you. He wasn’t underneath you, he wasn’t beside you, and his weight totally left the bed.

“Cover your eyes, doll.”

Your hands flew over your eyes as understand dawned over you at the precise moment J clicked the bedside light on and you waited for J to speak again with your hands clamped over your eyes.

A light cackle. “You don’t usually do what I tell you to do.”

You saw the humour for what it was and you let it pass as you lowered your hands from your face to be rewarded with the sight of J in all his chaotic glory. His intense chocolate eyes were rimmed with red, so glassy were they with tears which he refused to let fall, and his jaw muscles kept jumping. His toned yet lean torso was right before you and your mouth went dry; the moisture collecting instead between your thighs as you gazed at the most handsome man you had seen and would ever see. 

All at once, as his eyes met yours, did you realise what he was after:

Reassurance.

J wanted you to tell him to his face that he was handsome, that you loved him. You weren’t surprised by this sudden display of insecurity, but the more you thought about it, the more you realised that there was a reason J had never come to bed bare faced before; it was his main insecurity.

“Oh, J,” You reached out with both hands, flexing your fingers, and J chuckled with one firm shake of his head as his hands joined with yours. He allowed you to tug him onto the bed beside you, back under the covers. Sensing something which you wanted did J manoeuvre himself so that he came to lay atop you, his body perfectly cushioned by yours. You looped your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with the small hairs at the nape of his neck, “You’re so handsome. You are.” 

“Lilith, I - “ J’s eyes fluttered shut before they pinned you into place and before you could ask him what was wrong were his lips on yours. His lips were hungry, demanding, his touch hot and heavy against yours as his hands seized your face, controlling the kiss, controlling you and the situation so completely. But you weren’t scared. If you said no or get off or if you looked even slightly uncomfortable, J would be across the room before you even realised he’d moved. You trusted him with your life and you never felt safer than you did when you were in his arms.

J ground himself against you and you moaned, hooking your leg around his hip and pulling him deeper into you. You could feel him, hot and heavy against your core, and J hissed as you undulated your hips a few times. J broke the kiss just in time as a loud cackle ripped from his throat.

“You’re a naughty hyena, aren’t’ya? So hungry for me.”

There was something in J’s eyes which you didn’t like the look of and it sobered you up and sufficiently dimmed your arousal. J felt the mood change, too, at your realisation that he was hiding his true emotions from you. Unable or unwilling was he to fully admit just how much pain he was in, even to you, the one woman in the world who kept him safe even from himself. He sighed and dropped his head to rest in the warm crook of your neck. 

“J, honey - “ You carded your fingers through his slightly greasy hair, thoughts of a shower tomorrow (today? at the forefront of your mind as you said, “Are you okay?”

Despite knowing what was coming did J stiffen atop you, and one of your hands rubbed up and down his back in soothing motions as J, so feline was he, arching into your body, desperately seeking more of your tender love as he shook his head. You felt the movement against you and cooed, ducking your head awkwardly to press a kiss to the crown of his neck.

“You’re safe with me, J. No one’s gonna get to you.” Venom crept into your voice in true anger at the mere thought of someone hurting your Joker, and J cackled against you as he hummed, one of his hands grasping at your hip to reassure himself of your continued presence. The other hand came up to pull aside the collar of your shirt, revealing a pinkish scar in the shape of a messy ‘J’ which still looked waxy in the artificial light of the room, so freshly healed was it. 

His full lips pressed a kiss to the scar and you closed your eyes in love for the man who so often was dismissed as someone to be feared and respected but only from a distance. But you... Oh, you had seen him for who he really was and you hadn’t run away. You hadn’t hidden or ignored him or dismissed him or anything else which the hypocritical citizens of Gotham usually did when they were faced with J, a man they did not and would not understand. No, you had made it clear that you had been scared of him to begin with, but you didn’t want to be, and from there had the birth of serendipity occurred. 

Sleep evaded the both of you for the rest of the early morning, but it mattered not. Nothing and no one mattered to you as much as J did and the reverse was equally true. He was your guiding light, your salvation, your protection, your armour, your love and you were all of those to J, as well, but you were also his hyena, and during nights like this did he cling to that knowledge just as surely as he clung to you now, desperate to forget the ghosts of his past.

What doesn’t kill you simply makes you... stranger.

Ledger!!Joker @nothing-but-a-comedy @jokershyena​   @anyatheladyclown   @mijachula   @joker-daddy    @rinbyo    @imightaswellnotexistatall    @vladtoly    @joker-is-my-hero    @liz-rdwitch   @enigmaticandunstable        @ledgerskitten    @tsukiakarinobara    @germansarechill      @ezziesworld

[ajokeformur-ray]

you deserve to ask for all the validation. what's on your mind with Joker? gush gush gush! tell us your thoughts!

@into-crazy said: Hey sweetheart💞 dropping by to tell you that you can gush about Arthur HOWEVER much you want🥰 I know I'm always happy to read them, you're always so caring. So please, gush on😭💓

 😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺Thank you both for the validation and for letting me gush omg I feel selfish every time I do so I try not to too often ksksks but but buttt!!!!! He deserves it!!!!! And so do I!!!!💚💜💗💙

Under a cut for those who want to skip my gushing!!! 🥰🥰🥰

Okay, I wanna start by just... Joker!!!! Joker Joker Joker Joker Joker Joker Joker Joker - I’m tearing up just from typing his name that many times and my heart is squeezing in my chest omg I love him so so much omg I can barely see my laptop screen I’m cryinggg asdfghjkl 😭😭 He is!!!! Ethereal!!!!! He makes my heart go ✨✨✨✨ and he’s!!!! So!!!! Beautiful!!!

Look at him!!! 🥺😭

Look at this romantic green waves, the worn away white paint, the way the blood and the red paint blends together, the faded blue and the speck of blood on his waistcoat. He’s hurt and broken in more ways than one and bleeding; his inside is shown on his outside in this very moment and he’s so pretty in his pain. I’m crying omg look at him 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I just wanna lay down beside him on the boot of the car and kiss his tears away and wipe his face clean - yeah, we’re in the middle of a riot, so what? He’ll protect me after I’m done protecting him. I’d burn a city to the ground to keep him safe. “It’s okay, Joker, you’re safe.” and I’d run my hands through his hair and tell him I’m proud of him even now, even after everything. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for him. I’d hand wash the blood from his hands (I’m a uterus owner, we know best how to do that), I’d werewolf and go wild with him if he wanted to take me out with him, I’d die for him. 

Joker’s impossible for me to describe without using celestial terms but not only is he physically stunning, but he’s also beautiful on the inside and I love him because he is who he is - flaws and all. Though I wish I could take his pain away, I also wouldn’t change a single thing about him because to me he’s perfect. He’s everything I didn’t know I needed right up until the moment I did and he truly did change my life in so many ways. Sometimes I think he’s more real than I am because when I die one day, he’ll remain on this earth, forever immortalised in the hearts of all who know him.

Arthur Fleck will never die.

His entire segment on the show makes me cry so, so hard. Even when I’m feeling apathetic, I will still cry. It’s guaranteed. The way his jaw was clenched, his breaths uneven, his eyes red rimmed with unshed tears... and no one saw him. I don’t understand, I truly just don’t, how he could have a breakdown on national television and no one. saw him. He’s just... I wish I could go out from the audience or come out from backstage and rip into Murrat. I know that Joker didn’t tell them why he committed the murders, he just let them believe whatever they were going to, but that doesn’t explain or excuse humiliating him in public, not respecting that he asked to be called Joker, etc. Here is a man broken and bleeding, here is a man who came here to die and danced on his way to do so, and they’re laughing at him. How??? Oooh I wanna become an octopus so I can bitchslap eight people at a time (might swing back around at some people for a second slap...) for how these people treated him... I know, unreliable narrator, I know, but. Still. Still.

Joker’s just... oh. My chest is tight. I love him. I just!!! Really!!! Love my husband omg 🥺😭 the way his singing is off key, the way he cups people’s cheeks when he kisses them, the way he’s so tender and so gentle and so loving and the way he tries so hard. He sees people for who they really are, he’s so emotionally intelligent and he knows he comes across as creepy and he knows he shouldn’t do some things but he does and I just.... he found me at a very dark (but not the darkest - I’ve been Places lmao) time in my life and he brought me slowly, slowly, into the light and he still does the same for me now and I long to do the same for him. The way he dances and skips, the way he moves, the way his cigarette rubs away some of his lipstick... he is a being made up of music and its the only music I ever want to hear for the rest of my life. I want to sink into every refrain and to never again resurface.

He’s just... he is my entire life. And I don’t care if that’s sad or pathetic, because he helps me. Even in the middle of a panic attack or in the few seconds after I wake up from a nightmare, Joker’s there. If I’m scared because I read the news for too long or because I watched something I shouldn’t have, Joker’s there. If I can’t sleep, if I won’t sleep, if I can’t or won’t eat... Joker’s there. I wake up every day wanting to wake up... because I can see Joker (and the friends I’ve made because of him). He is always with me, and though there are times I doubt he’d even love me, though there are times I doubt he wouldn’t hurt me, though there are times I can’t even feel him around me, I still know right in the back of my head that he is there and he does love me, if only because I love him.

Joker touched a part of me I thought had long since been dead, and he showed me who I had the potential to be. He set me free from a cage of my own making and I yearn to do the same for him. I love him so much and I’m still crying omg 😭🥺 He makes me feel when I can’t feel anything at all and if that isn’t love in its purest form then I don’t know what is!

I still have so much more to say but he always brings me to the point where words run dry, and that’s where I am now. But, in short:

✨✨✨✨✨✨💖💖💖💖💖💖🥰🥰🥰🥰😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺😇😇😇😍😍😍 Even just saying his name makes me go all: 

[cigvrettedvet]

eleanor & heegyeong.

The owner of the manor wished she could trace the outline of Eleanor’s features onto paper, so there was some immortalised image Heegyeong could hold on to for a rainy day, but she had to caution herself to be in the present so she committed the figure of how absolutely radiant Eleanor looked tonight to her memory. When they got out to the middle of the lake, Heegyeong set the oar down and studied their surroundings, wanting to soak in everything exciting and new, even here and now on a muffled evening with Eleanor. Perhaps she’d like these times the best ─ just the two of them as the other had said. When the blonde evoked such a canvas from their childhood, a smile arose to her face as they both revelled in seeing, and being seen, even if not apart of the past, there was now and the future. “Nonsense, it happens to the best of us, well never me, but,” she teased as she reached down in the water to splash Eleanor gently, a tender titter spilling from her lips.

“It has been oh, seven years or so?” The brunette pondered, as if she had not just admitted to being a recluse on her father’s orders, saying the world would come to them if need be, that it was not proper for a young woman, especially one untethered by marital bounds, for what should await such a young woman? Now all was left was his ghost that still felt as if was trapped in the house, guiding her life, or something else supernatural. Who knew what was lurking in the shadows, but Heegyeong swore nothing scared her more than the confines of her domicile for the rest of her days. “It’s no trouble Eleanor, I like when you ask me things… I like telling you things. I don’t think anyone has ever been curious about me the way you are.”

@cigvrettedvet· 

          a genuine smile tugs at the corner of eleanor’s lips, a rarity that become more natural on account of the other woman. never had eleanor been so fulfilled by heegyeong’s presence. she was happy with her, to the point of growing dangerously attached. eleanor wanted to keep heegyeong all to herself. although there was only one way how, eleanor almost didn’t want to taint heegyeong’s innocence. at the very least, she wanted to keepp her this way for a little while longer before eleanor even contemplated the idea. and she was enjoying her time with heegyeong very much. although eleanor had been alone for many years, she never realized how truly lonely she had been until she met the other woman in the first place.

            “seven years? it has definitely been a while. luckily for you, you won’t have to be alone. for as long as it takes me to properly get my health back, i will stay by your side and we’ll do everything together.” although her health had been better the moment she fed on that poor maid, eleanor played the part and let heegyeong tend to her. she was willing to do everything she could to keep being close to the woman. “well, that’s foolish. you’re the most interesting woman i’ve ever met. i’m surprised you don’t have suitors lined up just to get to know you. but between you and i, their ignorance is my gain.” besides, having other men around would only complicate matters. it was better for them to be alone, rather than have some nosy man not mind his business. “has anyone asked for you?” eleanor doesn’t mean offense, she’s only curious - silently hoping that no one had noticed the  beautiful rose that was heegyeong.

[sopheliza25]

Omg this is everything!! 😍 thank you for doing this!

911 4x06

[requested by @sopheliza25]

[luckycheesefoodie321]

Ok but the evolution of this line is so fun

First Avenger: pre-serum Steve vs some military jock… sets up his resolve and the Steve behind the Captain America

Civil War: Cap v Iron Man v Winter Soldier. Come a long way since First Avenger. Steve still has strong beliefs about right and wrong but shows what he’s prepared to do to save a friend even when they were in the wrong. Shows his tenacity despite the difficulty of facing Tony.

Endgame: Steve vs Steve. We already know all we need to know about Cap. We know it, he knows it, they all know it. Meme moment. (Much later he gets a perfect I can do this all day moment when he’s boutta fight Thanos + army with half a shield and no back up AND DOESNT SAY IT BECAUSE WE KNOW) but we’ve descended into funny territory

Hawkeye: Rogers the Musical. I CAN DO THIS ALL. DAYYYYYYYYYYYYY. Honestly my favourite version of the line XD. It’s transcended Steve and has just become his personality type and now it is immortalised in musical theatre.

Multiverse of Madness: Captain Carter says it. Which is so fun. Same vibes different Cap. Genuinely appreciate it. Doesn’t matter which version of Captain America you are. You hold the same resolve.

Anyway…

DOCTOR STRANGE: in the multiverse of madness | 2022