#I think I might be a little delusional

[sappymix1]

[moonlight-hwa]

This is my second reading Golden Hour and I just absolutely love it. It so beautifully written and just so soft, fluffy and romantic. And those are the things I love most when reading fics, especially in terms of smut and you did a wonderful job writing it💗

Golden hour

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR MOUNT'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist) (join taglist)

🟡 pairing: bf!san x fem!reader 🟡 genre: smut, pwp, a lot of fluff, established relationship 🟡 summary: in the busy urban jungle, one fateful night at a jazz bar, choi san met his angel of light. from then on, each moment is a breathtaking golden hour, your love a wondrous duet. 🟡 wordcount: 6.5k 🟡 warnings/tags: loving bf san, jazzman!san, you are the apple of his eye, trumpet player, two lovebirds making it in the big city, discussion of marriage, discussion of planning for the future, yes he wants a future with you, late night coffee, being goofy, lots of hugs+heart eyes, lmk if I missed anything! 🟡 a/n: presently in the middle of being a san appreciator and listening to a lot of jazz, which resulted in quite a few song references being interlaced in this ahah; thank you so much for your support, any reblogs, comments, thoughts always appreciated!~

🟡 perma-taglist: @legohwas @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar  @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @mystar1024 @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @memoriesofwoo @ate-ez @toxicccred

🟡 nsfw tags: switch!san/the softest dom!san, switch!reader, the sheer volume of pet name use (sweetheart, darlin', love, angel, my light, my sun...), slight(?) hints at exhibitionism, light nipple play, lovebites/hickeys (giving/receiving), fingering, oral (f!recieving), handjob, hugging during sex, slow and steady, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, riding, unprotected sex (wrap that before you tap that pls), cum inside, soft and gentle aftercare

Enchanted by the ghostly wisps of steam rising from the cooling rich mahogany brew, twirling into the barren nightscape until they were nothing more than echoes of a magical breath, you waited. You were tired of conversing with the shadow stretched before you,  from the sun-like lamp light rays that hopped from the window at the top of the stairs all the way down. So you sat there, between the fourth and the fifth floors of your apartment complex, studying the circular holes in the steps that had become your rocking chair for reminiscing. At nights like these, you took things slow, and let yourself sink into an intimate fragility. Only you and the remnants of a busy late night shift. The hair and skin, which even after bathing seemed to cling onto most, if not the entire bouquet of aromas from the bar; the hands, still bearing the traces of coolness from having heaped buckets of ice into overpriced drinks; the faded eyeshadow, the lipstick - most of it transferred to the mug of coffee, steadily approaching lukewarm, cradled in your hands. Habitually, you traced its rim, feeling for the chip in the ceramic that it sported like a scar, after you had accidentally dropped it on the counter. Its presence was grounding. A reminder that you existed in a world beyond the endless cycles. That sometimes, the unpredictable could happen to you too.

You found companionship in the fluorescent light perched above a sign that attempted, but failed to remind the locals not to litter, and the miniature exhibition of waste backs collected right below it. This scene, viewed from so many metres above, was almost poetic. It was endearing seeing the last hints of humour that your neighbours managed to retain despite the bleakness of the complex and its surroundings. Windows facing brick walls and going grey from smog, a cacophonic roar drilling into the ear drums from the ceaseless chatter of clubbers and late night diners ambling down the nearby wonders of nightlife. The flickering, leaking neon signs above business either long-closed for the day, or just beginning to awaken were practically pitiful, and yet, you could not help but feel a twinge of sentimentality when your mind traversed the area, reminding you of any changes you had spotted, new faces, new flyers; these were the only things that, without fail, would greet you as you walked back home in your midday, another’s time for deepest slumber. Perhaps one would think you were alone or lonely in this hour, remaining out of dreamland solely to tomorrow’s disillusionment. But to anyone who would dare propose something so ridiculous, one look at the smile that graced your lips as soon as you spotted a familiar figure making its way down the courtyard, and stopping to wave at you - knowing full well that you were sat at the stairwell, would be enough to cut any argument at its root. While he was not someone who you came home to often, despite you having lived together for what was about to be a year, Choi San was the music that soothed your soul, the sweetest song, the melody of your heart. He was there for you, and you were there for him. Even if that meant turning into a nocturnal creature, conversing aimlessly with a cuppa into the early hours.

You closed your eyes and counted his steps. Both of you had made it something of a routine to avoid the main entrance. Initially it had been as a joke and as a means to flee from the permanently vexed madam in her seventies who lived on the ground floor, shrill voice and a shivering, bitey pooch cooped up and cradled like baby; she had seen the two of you in states deemed dissatisfying in her view, and as such had turned into a guardian of the complex. A guardian from two young fools who lived to the fullest. In an adoring duet, you had found paths to your comfort, and soon enough, the emergency stairs were an ascension to your palace - shared paradise spanning a couple of rooms. 

San’s resolved, confident steps as he made his way up the stairwell, skipping the second, avoiding the worn down centre of the step between the first and second floors; it was so worn down, in fact, that on some nights when the moon caught this side of the building just right, it was like a fallen star. You grinned to yourself as you recalled this theory. That star worked hard on giving you your wish; the wish whose slicked back, jet black locks you could already detail in your line of sight. As he made the last turn, you gripped your mug tighter; somehow, even after years of knowing this man, of loving this man, San never failed to ignite the warmest, cosiest flame within your soul. The home you had dreamed of, found not in four walls, but in this gentleman, who was now standing before you, hand outstretched and a gentle smile on his face. You graciously accepted the assistance, and let yourself be lifted off the ground with a light pull, to come face to face with your boyfriend. Your precious, funny valentine, with a heart of gold.

“Hey, darlin’, now, I told you the gig was gonna run ‘til late, why’re you up? And with your coffee?” he drawled as he searched for a place to put the case for the second most precious aspect of his life: his trumpet, settling on a nook closer to the inner railing - protected on all sides from a fall. You hummed, and took another cautious sip, studying the man before you.

Despite having woken up at the crack of dawn to walk you to your second job before commuting to his own, there was still that inextinguishable glint in his magnificent dark eyes. Feeling your gaze on him, San rolled his shoulders back, as though he had not a hint of weariness in his muscles, accidentally forcing one side of his favourite jacket, a vintage brown piece made of corduroy, to slip and commence its slow climb down his upper arm. Sighing, you twisted to set your cup aside on one of the stair steps, and made a move to fix it back in place, ignoring the way in which San's hands rapidly snaked to your waist.

"Mm, missed you Sannie." You responded, smoothing the non-existent creases on the black t-shirt he was wearing underneath, your touches lingering as if you had not rested your form on his chest thousands of times, each occasion imprinted in your memory for as long as there was music.

"I missed you more, Y/N…” his eyes darted a couple of times to your hands, only to slowly rise, and focus on the black top that you had chosen to change into after your workday. San exhaled, amused as he imagined you waddling around the apartment wrapped up in that fleece towel you liked, ready to raid the wardrobes. Taking the very edge at the base of the article between his thumb and index finger , he toyed with it, and stated as a matter of factly: “I can see you're stealing my shirts again."

"Well… I can take it off…" you trailed off, moving to undo the very top button, stifling a giggle as San instantly dropped his act and pinched the collar together. He shook his head, gaze glossed over, unreadable. His other hand inched a little closer to your hip, sliding down - a barely noticeable change, but it nevertheless sent sparks across your skin and left you struggling to breathe.

"Uh-uh, that's for my eyes only. Can't have you flaunting something priceless for the whole block." tugging on the shirt, he guided you into his arms and wrapped himself around you, taking in the smell of home. The aroma of his gift that was today, the promise that was tomorrow, and the dream that was the symphonies of a future to come.

It was surreal, the moment he came home. Be it to wait for your shift to end while he tried to get a simple dinner cooking on the stove, or to have you waiting, just like this, curled up on the stairs, every bit a cat basking in the warm glow that resembled the sunset in its hue, falling down the steps from the window of your, and his apartment. As he stood in front of you, etching your form into his memory as if each time he saw you you were someone new, he imagined what it would be like to truly come back at sundown. Have dinner earlier than midnight, spend the evening chatting away about this and that, hidden under a woollen throw that you had found at a thrift store. Let the last rays of the sun, departing to its sleeping quarters, wash over the two of you as you would hold one another in a long, loving embrace, rocking to the ballads only you knew and shared. Sometimes he wondered whether what he played outside of this magical golden hour that was ‘you and him’ was truly music, when all the melodies to divine adoration played in your caresses. Whether the words he sang held any meaning if they were not dedicated to you, sung to you. Whether the sultry notes of the trumpet were anything but noise if you were not there to hear it. 

Crash landed into the big city, he had been a boy with stars in his eyes and boundless ambition. He had wanted to fight the world alone, head on, and had no feel for the rhythm of the metropolis, its people, its jazz scene. He had assumed that he was wanted, and oh, how wrong he had been. Rejection after rejection, San had found himself playing on the streets for a couple of bills to last the day, and had run into a debt with a cruel landlord - so large, that he had considered turning to less conventional solutions. But then, by some stroke of luck, he had met other musicians who were dreamers, warriors of the arts, those with impeccable feel for every note, every off-beat both in the pieces they would cover or improvise, as well as life. Just like that, San had found himself a band, and by the grace of destiny itself, he had found himself performing at a bar, the bar, where he had the boundless joy of meeting you. 

An old hole in the wall in the middle of downtown, it had been your first place of work since moving in more central from the outskirts. Having been on the scene for a lot longer than him, sweeping, cooking, mixing - anything you could get your hands on, you knew practically all the artists around town, thanks to your appreciation of their life’s essence in the form of jazz and their habitual lingering around the bar to chat after a show. As such, a new face had immediately caught your eye, and there, your gaze stayed. All through the night. All through his impeccable covers of Chet Baker’s ‘I Fall In Love Too Easily’ and ‘Like Someone In Love’, during both of which you swore you had never felt yourself being regarded with more intensity. All through the years in which you had come to move in a shared rhythm, existing in a gentle swing, cheek to cheek. For the first time, you felt as though you were staring right into the sun, but instead of tears rolling down your cheeks and agony spreading over your body, your vision cleared and new hope settled.

This rhythm did not falter. Even when some notes were played with their respective delays or anticipations, this was all a wondrous interpretation of life as a duet that was you and your favourite, your only, beloved San, trumpet player, singer, an artist through and through. The man with a dream and the resolve to achieve it. You had promised to one another that one of these days, you will see yourselves as the makers of a new oasis. Your own corner in the glimmering canyons of steel to serve as a sunny safe haven for jazzists from all walks of life. You as the owner of the new Blue Note, him as the first man on the stage. This was the future towards which you both strode, and alongside it, a heavenly devotion bloomed.

As you rocked in a sweet embrace, it was impossible to imagine anything more right. Arms around his torso and hidden from the nighttime breeze by his jacket, you sank into San’s reassuring heartbeat and loving warmth. Caught in a trance, he pressed you impossibly close as though he had not seen you in an agonising ‘forever’, and ran his fingers through your hair while a hand rested on the back of your head. The brilliant, cascading tresses that still retained some of the aroma of the cordials and syrups you often used at your job, despite the top notes being yours, and consequently, his favourite shampoo. He admired the way in which it reflected the sunset captured in the apartment, only half a flight away, a golden luminescence that made him all the more convinced that this was where the glowing, comforting star had found safety to rest. After walking through the town that was enveloped in dark hues, passing by dingy shops and streets in dire need of tender love and care, he could not help but feel blessed that all that time ago, the sun had risen for him, and all he had the pleasure of experiencing was brighter, lighter, and any trials and tribulations were merely a simple test. He fondly recollected your first meeting, having purposefully made a detour on his journey back to walk past the location that marked the beginning of your history.

“We played at a club a couple of blocks from that place tonight.”

“Where we met?” you asked, nuzzling into the crook of San’s neck and relishing in his soft hum as he continued.

“Mhm. Actually, I walked past it while going home.”

“And?” you inquired, pulling away to glance at San’s cheeky lopsided grin.

“Made me walk faster.” you raised an eyebrow, only making your boyfriend chuckle, the honey-like tone never failing to induce a thrilling flurry in your chest.

“Damn, is it that run down?”

San imitated a pondering stance, looking off to the side before returning to study your very irises, with such attentiveness that you thought he was in a world of his own. And in a way, he was. He was convinced that, for as long as he lived, San’s best view would be exactly this. These eyes that had hypnotised him as they followed his figure from across the bar, these gorgeous orbs that held the moon, the stars, the songs sung and unsung. No matter where he went and no matter what new challenge life threw at him, all he needed was to imagine you and suddenly, everything would fall into place. The young man moved to press his forehead against yours, a strand of hair that grazed his eyebrow tickling your face and causing you to scrunch your nose. The adorable reaction proved to be too much for San’s poor enamoured heart as it skipped a beat, and in an attempt to subdue the overwhelming ache he rubbed his nose against yours.

“Nope, just made me want to see you even more.” he spoke low, focusing only on your shallow, lightly trembling breaths and the intoxicating feeling of his skin against yours. 

“Can you see me now?” you joked, hinting at your closeness, hands moving to graze his sides, trailing down until you could tap his alluring waist with your fingertips, stepping forward until you were practically hip to hip and you could feel the friction of his navy jeans against your skirt.

“I don’t know, Y/N, I think I need to get a little closer…” in one cautious trailing of the jawline, he cupped your face, waited for a tiny nod from you to proceed - something he had always subconsciously done when it came to loving you, and what little space had been left between your bodies was no longer.

Tenderly, like early mist settling on the dazzling midnight sea, he worshipped you with every move. Lost in a sigh, in softest caresses, you indulged in the sweetness of his precious lips, fitting so perfectly with your own. While you had not been a believer in soulmates, the only way in which you could describe the idyllic nature of your coexistence was that it was meant to be. It was as if, even though you had your respective, independent melodies, they oh so seamlessly flowed into one, body and soul. San kissed you as though you were life itself, at such a slow, sultry tempo and yet it set your soul ablaze, caught up in a wild wind. Lost in exploring your lover, you only realised how he gingerly lifted the shirt at its base when his arms brushed against yours, causing you to snicker right against him. Immediately you could feel him retract his tongue and lean back to look at you. Your eyes fluttered open after having automatically given themselves up to a sensory bliss, only to be met with San’s signature pout that was dramatically contrasted by an enticing darkness in his half-lidded orbs.

“What…” he whined barely audibly, only making your smirk deepen.

“Now what about that ‘show’ you were talking about, hm?”

“My shirt, my business.” he attempted to dive back into a kiss, digging his fingers into your sides when you tilted your head back and chuckled.

“My lips, my business.”

“Awh darlin’ don’t tease.” he batted his eyelashes, gaze darting around your face to catch any signs of caving in to his charms. However, even if he tried his hardest, his searches would amount to nothing at all, for you would not be able to get mad at his cute face even if you wanted to. As such, your facade soon dropped and you were seeking him once more.

“Don’t be bossy.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good- Choi San put me dow-” you yelped as he stepped to the side, and with mischief flashing across his face, hooked you under the knees and supported your back, sweeping you off your feet for good. Careful not to let you hit the stairs, San’s strong arms held you tight against his chest, and he smiled down to give you a cheeky retort.

“Don’t be bossy~” playfully shaking your head, you let your hands find themselves loosely hanging from his neck, and gave into the addictive fiery pecks that he was leaving on your cheek, across your jaw, only to culminate in a deeper, ravishing kiss, punctuated by an unmistakable undercurrent of sensual longing. As your passion ascended into a crescendo, and the heat rising in your bodies was elevating into being unbearable, San breathlessly whispered the shared desire against your reddened lips:

“It’s time to quit stalling, methinks. Yeah?”

“Sounds fine by me.” you agreed, not fearful of sounding eager. Though apparently, that was not enough. While San dipped you forwards, eliciting a giggle and a compliant hooking of the trumpet case with your finger, he tried to correct you.

“Now, fine won’t do.” giving you another quick peck on your cheek, he began climbing towards the fifth floor, though you were certain that he was spending more time studying you than checking if he was stopping at the right level. Not bothering to mention the mug that had been abandoned, concluding that the beverage was always going to be nothing compared to the energy this wondrous love of yours gave you, you simply gave into the boisterous affection.

“Mighty fine.”

“A little better…” he mumbled back while stepping through the open window into your piece of urban heaven.

“Gonna have to work for any more than that, darling.”

“A challenge?”

“An invitation.”

The phrase almost made him falter as he attempted to gather at least some form of coherence before the submitting to your priceless seduction. Setting you back down onto the floor only to return to his hold of your waist, he shadowed your movements as you set the case down. At the first given opportunity, your boyfriend focused and nipped at the sensitive skin right above your exposed collarbone, one hand rising to hastily unbutton the shirt as you gasped at the contact and in a daze, rushed to tug at his jacket. Promptly, the article found itself on the floor, soon joined by the black shirt that you had borrowed and leaving your chest entirely exposed.

Entranced, San let himself be guided by you to the bedroom as he cupped one of your breasts and ran languid circles across the nipple, while catching you once more in a feverish kiss. Upon hearing the hint of a moan, muted by his own mouth, he inadvertently bucked his hips against you, the pressure on the growing arousal making him needy, and desperate for more touch. Stumbling down the corridor, you felt for the doorframe of the bedroom, stopping right underneath and running your hands under San’s black tee and up his abdomen. He obeyed your unspoken wish and gave you the pleasure of watching him undress, the divine, sculpted lines and edges of his body, muscles working overtime under his beautiful sunkissed skin, all in a magnificent dance. Before you could indulge in him once again, you felt a couple of pulls on the fabric of your skirt, and soon enough the elastic band had given in, and rolled down to let the material pile on the floor around you.

San guided your two hazy forms to the bed, hissing as you trailed kisses up his neck, to the side and nipped at his earlobe, your erratic, shallow breaths nearly sending him into a frenzy. Burning skin, each touch turned scalding making heat pool to your core; you saw stars as your boyfriend slipped his hand into your panties and ran two digits across your dripping sex to collect some of the nectar, before starting to rub your aroused clit, teasing it as you shot out to grab a hold of his upper arms for some illusion of stability. Whispering sweet nothings against your skin he laid you down onto the bed sheets; you could swear they had retained some of the warmth where the sun had hit them during its routinely finale, orange streaks stalking across the apartment. Nuzzling into San's neck you muffled your whines by turning your attention to making this moment bloom, lovebite after lovebite.

"Ah… Y/N…" he sighed, voice husky as he shifted in his half-lying posture in an attempt to get at least some friction. As he flicked your clit and glided two fingers into your entrance, curling them exactly how he knew it would drive you closer to your high, you dug your nails into his biceps to resist a tremble and uttered:

"My man, my business."

"Yours, all yours, darlin', just as you're mine." 

"Mhm, ah, San, I'm- cl-" you moaned as he increased his rhythm, the wanton sounds of his digits pumping into your pussy only accelerating you to your orgasm.

"Close? Already, sweetheart?" You could sense a hint of pride in his tone, but could not form any snarky comment, thoughts turned to mush.

"Too good to me, love…"

"Now, now, and I wanted to make you feel even better…" he chided jokingly, lifting your lower half ever so slightly from the bed to slip the wet panties off fully, not once taking his eyes off yours. You tried to reach for his jeans, the erection so painfully obvious that all you could wish for was to give San at least some relief, but to no avail as he intercepted by taking a hold of your wrist, kissing your knuckles lovingly and simply requesting: “Lie back for me, darlin’, won’t you?”

Of course you would not disagree, not when you felt an emptiness from where his fingers had denied you a complete release, leaving your walls clenching around nothing, and desperation approaching an all-time high. Eagerly, you crawled and fell back on the bed, watching his figure follow you until he was hovering dangerously close, clouded over with lust. After resting his hands on your knees and then, at a deliberately slow pace, sliding them down your inner thighs for you to part your legs wider for him, he lowered himself to devour you. Placing a long kiss on your sensitive clit while holding your legs in place so you were in his temporary control, he ran his hot tongue along the length of your fold, stopping to give the bud extra attention with dedicated licking, and sucking until you were melting into the sheets and the only thing escaping your mouth were pathetic moans laced with his name and praises. As if you had been blinded by the sun, you ceased to see any definition in the world around you as your climax crashed down hard and fast, leaving you shaking and crying out for your boyfriend, who, after leaving a tentative trail of open-mouthed kisses on your pulsating core and on each of your thighs, rose to hook you under your back.

“You’re so beautiful, my love…” he cooed as he wrapped you up in a long hug, careful to let you ride out your high in the safety of his arms. He bit his lower lip as your leg accidentally grazed his clothed cock, only to squeeze his eyes shut when the action prompted him to taste you once again, sending his mind into an overdrive.

As you returned to a brighter lucidity, you gingerly fiddled with the button on San’s jeans, and proceeded to free him of their confines with the lowering of the zipper. Unable to restrain yourself from feeling the hardness of his length, you palmed it through the cotton briefs that were already showing traces of his pre-cum, and pulled down the waistband to let it spring free.

“Oh, San, please, why wait so long, you must be so on edge, I’m sorry baby…” you mumbled, lifting your hand to collect some spit, then wrapping it around his member. Instinctively his hips bucked towards you as you pumped him, barely registering how close San’s face was to yours.

“‘s alright, Y/N, but if you could… mh… kiss it better? May I?”

“Of course.”

You could taste the remnants of your orgasm on his lips and tongue, but only momentarily as he hungrily explored you. Low grunts and breathy moans fell from his mouth, only to be swallowed by your newly blooming desire for more. Deepening the kiss, you absorbed his moan as you sped up the movements of your other hand. Unable to resist the building frustration any longer, San brushed your arm and tilted his head back to show you his eyes - glazed over, full of raw want.

“I need you.”

“How?”

“I need your pussy, sweetheart.” you slowed down, teasing the tip of his cock as he gripped your hips, a coy smile dancing across your features.

“Didn’t you just have it?”

“Not enough, it seems.”

“I think we can do something about that… tell me how you want me.”

“Ride me.”

“Be my guide.”

Nodding, moved to the edge of the bed on his knees, and slid down until he was in a seated position. He motioned for you to come closer, helping you understand his wish. Raising yourself from how you had been positioned, you crept towards your boyfriend, cautiously throwing a leg over his lap until your core was millimetres away from his throbbing member. San’s hands found your ass and gave you a few nudges towards him, while you ran your fingers through his dishevelled locks, a shy smile gracing you as you thought back to how pristine he had managed to look when he had been in the stairwell. Now, he was perfect. When you tapped him to suggest your readiness, San took his cock to slot it into your entrance and with a couple of adjustments, he bottomed out inside you. Sighs combined into a single, intimate breath as his length pressed against your walls, and you rose into an unimaginable euphoria.

Foreheads pressed against one another, neither of you wanted to rush, instead succumbing to a darkness behind your eyelids and focusing exclusively on the other senses. How your inhales and exhales were equally as shallow, how the light tinge of sweat had mixed with the dark accords of his perfume - one that, after having made the step to live together, now almost permanently lingered on your skin, how the contact was every bit like being wrapped in the golden glow of a sunset. You peeked at San, catching him still in a trance, and admired how the light from the ceiling lamp out in the corridor highlighted his sharp and alluring features, all contrasted by the softest, plushest lips which you gave into the instinct to peck. 

Your boyfriend gazed up at you, breaking into a heart-melting smile. Little did you know, he was counting his blessings and had to consciously remind himself that somehow you were not a sun goddess. Perhaps in disguise. You were the melody he would never get tired of hearing, the dawn and dusk that he would always greet and cherish. His muse and guiding light.

“My sun…” he pecked your cheek, flicking his nose against it while restraining himself from acting rashly. Not tonight. Tonight was all about you and him. Together.

“The light of my life…” kissing the other cheek, he groaned as you grinded your hips to have your chest almost flush against him.

“My Y/N,” “My San,”

You whispered in unison, looking at one another with an unequivocal tenderness and adoration. Two seamlessly blending into one, you did not need the days to guide you. Existing in a glittering bliss, before either of you was an angel of light. Truthfully, there need not be anything more. Only the sound of jazz to give you rhythm, and the radiance of your mutual enamourment. 

As you began to ride his member, you took immeasurable pleasure in seeing San’s face contort into that of ecstasy. The fluidity of the motion rivalled that of waves that lapped the distant shores of a paradise. The oncoming bubbling of a climax that threatened to drown you in a sensual unravelling left you lost at sea, with only the rays of your favourite star enveloping you. Rocking your hips, you felt his cockhead hitting your ideal spot over and over, and whenever you would need a break, he would soothe you with a feathery touch. 

The leisurely pace proved to be a build up to unfathomable ruin, as the clenching of your pussy around his hard length left San’s thoughts in a total disarray. He could not register the most basic things around him, jutting into you without a single decipherable word spilling from his lips. He gripped onto you harder, silently begging you to take him deeper, faster as his high became more imminent and he could barely hold on.

“Darling, you’re… I-I swear…”

“Ah… yes? What?”

“Can I? Please, love…”

“Yes, Sannie, please- ah!” he thrusted his hips with a newfound vigour, practically lifting you to give himself space to accelerate. The sudden change of pace sent curls of pleasure to the knot that had been building in your core, leaving you like putty in San’s hold.

“Fuck yes, Sa-an-ie… please…” lewd moans filled the bedroom as his member snapped into you with the exact beat that would send you into a frenzy. Falling apart over him, your pants rapidly turned into high-pitched whines as you could feel yourself approaching the edge to your undoing.

Just as he began to falter, you fell between his head and shoulder, shaking as another orgasm overtook you. The spasming of your sex sent him into uncontrollable pleasure and with a final few snaps of the hips, San kept you still on his cock as hot ropes of cum painted your inner walls. Embracing you like you were the most fragile being on the Earth, he glanced at you even in his half-consciousness to check if you were comfortable. Elated when you returned his regard with an elated grin, San beamed right back, giving you a quick peck before hugging you even tighter, attempting to slow his breathing while his length was still pulsating, surrounded by a divine warmth.

“So unreal… so, so marvellous, Y/N.” that seemed to reel you back from the wonderfully overwhelming sensation, and you brushed your cheek against his. Silence. Two bodies connecting, not needing the light as they lived in the afterglow. Listening to San’s heartbeat, your temple against his, you mumbled:

“I would never leave.”

“Then don’t. I would never let you go anyways.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to carry me to the bathroom.”

“I’ll even hold you in the shower.”

“Oh how romantic.” you tried to shift, only eliciting a groan from San as he cautiously moved you back, a sheepish grin on his features.

“You know what, darlin’, let’s stay like this for a bit, yeah?”

“Fine by me.”

“Fine?”

“Very, very, very fine.”

Once the two of you had in part returned from your post-coital utopia, and San kept his promise and carried you around the entire apartment as though showing you off to every piece of furniture and every wall, you were clean, fuzzy from the perfectly warm shower, and wrapped up in fresh bed sheets which you had playfully commanded for San to lay down.

After having given up on immediately settling down to sleep, you and San had dissolved into a giggly mess. You had convinced him to bring his trumpet into the room and let you have another go at playing it - even though these attempts had already likely accumulated into hundreds - without much progress. At the moment, the one piece which you could confidently play was ‘a whole lot of nothing and painfully blown out air’. As you tried for the umpteenth time to produce as much as one hint of a note, you were distracted by a sudden ‘oohing’ from your boyfriend, who was watching you unwaveringly.

“What?” you lowered the trumpet and raised an eyebrow.

“That was an indirect kiss, darlin’.”

“Come on, San, what in the world-” you hit his chest playfully and attempted to return the instrument, “I’m out here huffing and puffing and that’s what you’re thinking about?”

“Mhm, and so much more…”

“Choi San.” you addressed him sternly, though nothing in your expression even remotely suggested that you meant it.

“Fine, fine, want me to show you again and proper?”

“You know what, I think I practised enough for today.” you handed him the instrument, restraining your laughter while he returned it to its case, clipping it shut and setting it aside on the bedside table closest to him.

“Well done, Y/N.” he praised you, though a hint of sarcasm did not go unnoticed.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh at me as much as you want, but you still can’t make a bloody mary.” you pointed out, making San jut out his lower lip and nod in agreement.

“Fair.”

He opened his arms wide, leaning back onto the large pillows to invite you to rest against his bare chest, an offer which you simply would never refuse. Snuggling up to him, you were in seventh heaven. One arm over his torso and the other propping you up so you would be level, you doubted that there could be anything that felt more safe, more comforting and more adoring than this. Feeling him rubbing unrushed, lulling circles on your back, accompanied by the rustling of cotton, you wanted to dissolve in this moment, your molecules reflecting onto every surface until this was all you knew.

“Y’know, I’m s’posed to have a gig next week that’s gonna cover at least three month’s rent.” he broke through the quietude with the exciting news, making you immediately look up at him, gleaming.

“What? No way, who?”

“Some bigshot from uptown wants music for his party. And who am I to refuse?”

“Damn, San, that’s amazing-”

“And, and, and, they were looking for a mixologist to make the magic happen, so if you are happy to accept, the man’s asked me to call him back tomorrow noon,” the continuation left you stunned, and you wrapped a leg around your boyfriend, embracing him until you could barely breathe.

“WHAT? San, no you didn’t I… thank you? How? I mean…” you stumbled over your words, trying your hardest to not squeal at the opportunity.

“No words needed, lovely. See? We’re gonna save up for that wedding dress in no time.”

He stated casually, but the words sent butterflies into your stomach. You had discussed official commitment early on, deciding that this was to be in your plans for certain, but considering your careers, your desires and your dreams, you wanted to find that golden sliver of stability before taking that next step. Though, as months ticked by, you could tell San’s motivation grew stronger and stronger to be able to call you his wife.

“Oh Sannie, but I told you that I don’t need anything fancy, I just need you.” you responded, trying to provide reassurance that either way, happiness was guaranteed; but it appeared that in the ghost of an intimate night, your boyfriend found entertainment in misconstruing your words into a lustful implication.

“Say that again and you are not getting out of bed for that morning shift.” you hit his chest so faintly that there was barely any impact before hiding your face against him, not reappearing until San brushed some hair away from your face and cupped your chin, “Darlin’, I just wanna have, and live a life with you. Many lives. More than.” melting into his touch, you wiggled upwards, closer to him.

“We’ll make it.” San nodded at your resolution, glancing out into the corridor - although the lamp that had provided the sun-like hues had long been turned off, the heat of your passion prolonged its echoes.

“It’s us we’re talkin’ ‘bout, it’s written out for us. And if not, we’ll take the pen and write it. You promised I’ll be the first to play at your bar… opening night.”

You took in the adoration in his eyes, while San delighted in the same feeling that was held in your own.

“Of course. And you said that the song you’ll sing will be the one you wrote for me.” barely audible, you answered, getting closer and closer to the sun that you knew would never burn you and instead only help you amplify your shine.

“The whole set, love. My all.”

[legendoftherisingtide]

it has occurred to me that there hasn’t been a kiss in the entirety of the bnha series.

now can you imagine,, if the only one in the entire series,,, is a gay one.

[azuritethehermit]

If you guys have any lesser seen Rendog pictures, I would reaalllllyyyy appreciate it. I have a big juicy crush on him.

[chaotic-toby]

Idv rant time baby

When I first started playing the game, the first character I bought was Luca, and no matter how many other characters came out that I also fell in love with, I will forever love Luca. He is my favourite character in the entire game, and I personally, think he's a really good character (I might be biased).

Now, I know idv has meta characters and non meta characters, but in my honest opinion, all characters are good if used correctly and you have skill, I suppose. I don't believe in meta. I have never once played a character just bc they're meta.

Back when I first started playing idv, I always hear people saying that Luca was really good. He was a really good decoder and kiter bc he had no kiting debuffs like Tracy and Helena. But now, years later, I keep hearing people say that he's garbage and low tier. I try to not let that bother me bc everyone has their different opinion about the characters and I suppose my opinion on there being no meta essentially is not common, but it really does bother me a lot.

Call me chronically online or whatever, but I feel personally offended whenever someone calls Luca a garbage character. It doesn't help that I genuinely feel like I am him (I am mentally ill I know that) but he is not garbage.

Are there characters whose abilities make it easier to win? Yes. But you can win with any character as long as you know how to play them AND play the game. I am genuinely so sick of people calling characters awful and low tier just bc their abilities suck or whatever.

What's the fun in playing an "easy" character. In the end, even if you do play a meta character, you still need skill.

Tldr: Luca is meta bc I'm basically him and I say so (no one can change my mind)

[wowevenmoreloveonearth]

I really need to stop going into the general 911 tag bc some of y’all are so stupid and that’s ok but you’re also really mean and I’d like you to please keep it away from me (I have blocked so many people already)

[fsfghgee]

I feel like a traitor, I want to finish one of my bitomas fanficions, I really do, but when it comes to MK I can only think about the expansion lately 😭

I'm so sorry!

I'll continue one that I can explore the expansion.

[faunandfloraas]

im from brisbane so i'm manifesting cheap-ish tickets so i can afford flights and accomodation T-T

Maybe one day brisbane, adelaide and perth, also wellington or christchurch will be remembered when someone's putting together a tour 😭

Good luck to you, tho 🫡 here's hoping for general admin!! ❤️‍🔥

[beedreamscape]

Scenes of Iomene and Oscar in the time after.

I have no excuses for why I wrote this except [screams]. PURE SELF-INDULGENT HEADCANON. It takes place over a long, undefined length of time.

Iomene wraps her arms around Oscar's shoulders by the back and at her firm embrace, he leans into her.

His shoulders are broad so she's not able to envelop him completely. They stand at roughly the same height -either by design or some trick of the eye, he's got the impression she ought to be taller- and she's strong enough that he leans without worry of pushing her back.

She rests her chin on his shoulder and looks at the subject of his attention, the storm going outside the tall windows. Behind the curtain of rain, the thinner trees bend under the force of the wind, branches lashing against themselves and on the studier trunks, leaves sway like clothes on a line.

Their eyes cross on the faint reflection on the glass. In contrast to all that is fair in him, his eyes are like two dark marbles, a brown so deep and dark it's almost black; hers resemble her skin, an inhuman ambar like brandy on fire. Whenever she holds his stare to hers, he has the unsettling thought that she can or might be reading his thoughts.

Taking a break? He asks.

Thought I come see you.

He breathes out a laugh. You didn't have to.

The first time it happened he asked if it was her doing, the rain. It wasn't without reason, she had told him this place wasn't entirely real, the mansion -or palace if you lived in the places Oscar had- was almost a personal limbo, between veils, not outside of the Fairelands but not in it either.

Close enough it influences what happens here, she had told him.

If it rains there, it rains here?

She had shaken her head. No, fluctuations in Bleed cause this. I lived in flood and pain when war was at its highest, then in waist-deep snow as it died down.

He had also told her it reminded him of the accident and she held him steadily for what must've been hours if those had any meaning there.

Her breath has a complex rich scent, never bad but never something recognizable; a new, intriguing smell.

I don't have to do anything.

I know. He rubs the back of her hand in a resemblance of reassurance. I'm alright, I promise.

I miss having someone to care for.

He takes her upper arm, his large hand almost wrapping around it, and brings her to his side so he can look at her --- she's beautiful in a way he's not used to, though he's not quite sure what was he ever used to anymore. Her skin is bronze like copper and her hair darker than any black his eyes could register, she only looked human when she stood very close.

You already care for the whole of the Fairelands. Besides, I'm literally the last person that needs caring for.

It's different. And yes, you do. Dying is not the worst thing that can happen to a person and we both know it.

He smiles, not with teeth but broadly. Darling, I'm painfully familiar with oblivion. Though I've only skirted the edges of madness.

I've dabbled in madness a fair share over millennia.

He points lazily towards the window.

Could we walk out on it? Not in permission but in safety. Every now and then I heard of toxic rain back in Newfair, especially right after the war.

It's bleed-induced, but I don't believe it's toxic. I think we could.

And without another word, she takes his hand and leads him out.

He had asked her how far the land around them stretched on the first night he had woken up in the house --- she had kept him sleeping for about a week or maybe a month, a while to dream of death, a while to adapt her world for his presence, to be shared after hundreds of years of solitude.

For as far my legs will carry me, she told him.

Are there other buildings? Other houses?

I never felt the need for them.

You build them?

With enough will and vision, I could.

So you built this? She nods. A bit big for just one person.

One needs a variety of spaces even when living alone. I thought of rebuilding the whole of Oldfaire in the beginning, I went halfway through with it, but seeing my city with none of its people really hurt me. I did replicate the shore of Seasway, not the whole ocean, but enough that it might trick the eye into thinking it's endless.

Wow... I might need a map one day.

Yes, yes, I never thought to do so, it can be a fun project if you'd willing to tackle it. But that's for later. I reshaped some quarters and cleared space so you may shape them to your liking.

I wouldn't know where to start.

I would suggest you start with your bedroom and then the library, browse through my catalogue and pick out the ones you need to assemble your own.

Why can't I use yours?

She smiles that mischievous smile of someone who knows more, who'll always know more. You'll understand when you walk in there.

He went days without moving much further than the clearing surrounding the house, went on not exploring the library and its secrets, went on trying to ignore the grief over Cosmo, and on one of those days, returned with bloodied and torn fists.

I thought I'd hurt less in here, he told her. She gestures to the water-filled bowl in front of him and he dips his hands in, and sighs at the soothing cool of it.

That'd be easier if it was like that. I'm constantly in pain, I just learned to live with it.

I assume because of the Bleed.

Yes. They both go silent and watch the blood colouring the water red. She waits for him with a towel after five minutes. I'll put ointments and bandage it, but it'll heal regardless. It'll heal as if you had never broken your skin.

Can I even die here?

You'll have to try really hard for it and even then you'd return. The magick here... This place is electrified with both life and Bleed, its own reality and limbo combined.

Oscar went around three days without seeing Iomene before daring to enter her private quarters and look for her.

She lied pale yellow on the floor of her study, cold at the extremities, not breathing. For a second he wondered if she had succeded, but just for a second --- if she had died three days ago, her body would've begun to rot and he knew they don't have that luxury.

The bleed permeated the very air he breathed but at that moment, it flooded out of her like a broken fire hydrant, it made his skin break in goosebumps upon touch and something within him to stir.

He took her in his arms and layed her inside the gold bathtub of her bathroom, clothes and all, and ran a hot bath.

Then he sat on the floor and waited for her to return.

After a quiet period of days of studying, on her part, and reading, on his --- inside the library, he understood, rows of books that the biggest library in Newfaire would never be able to comport, knowledge so old it no longer had surviving records in the world of the living, no place traversable in search of a casual read at least not in short notice ---, she invites him for a walk.

The weather was nice, not too hot like in days of excessive magick nor cold like in days of Bleed, and Iomene wore clothes shorter than any he'd ever seen her in, considering he'd only ever seen her in long pants and gowns.

She walked with a purpose for about five minutes before reaching another clearing, not a random grass field, but a perfect cone with grass cut to perfection and familiar lines.

She walked forward towards the perfectly cut circle at the head of the field while he stood stunned.

I know this means very little without peers to play with but I thought we could think of something for two or at the very least it could bring forth fond memories.

He held back tears. Yeah, we can think of something. But we'll need-

The bats and balls are right over there, she says pointing to one of the trees where beneath is an open crate with the equipment. Needless to say, I'll need some training, I'm afraid just watching didn't make me a partner up to par.

He laughed out loud, the first time she heard it. Well, if it'll be just the two of us... He studied the contents of the crate and he picked up a ball. First of all, I think I'll need you to perfect your throws.

And shooted the baseball her way.

The rain feels both exactly like it always did, but also more real, much colder even through his dress shirt, especially through it, the intensity of the rain soaking the fabric until the clothes cling to his skin.

Yet he stands under it, proper vision of his surroundings impeded by the water except that of her, standing near, long dark hair dripping and a face that could only belong to an empress.

I haven't stood in the rain in decades, I think, she shouts. There's something jovial to her in this very moment, to her smile and the way she faces the rain as it pours over her face.

With her, there is always a dichotomy --- real or fantastic, a mother or a partner, a goddess or a woman.

He ignores every restraint and every assumption, and gives in to the feelings he's still allowed in this moment: the cold making his skin prickle, the fear brought by the intense sound of the storm hitting the trees and the house's roof, but especially the searing hot draw towards the woman who doesn't flinch as she looks at the abomination of his existence --- his only equal.

Oscar closes the distance, holds her face with the scraps of gentleness he still recalls and kisses her with the ferocity of a creature fearless of death. Iomene responds with the hunger of a prisoner fed comfort and warmth, holding onto him with nails dug deep as a captive holds onto freedom.

He pulls away with blood seeping through the cracks of his lips, blinking through wet lashes.

You taste like mints, he shouts through the rain.

She's serious when she responds, I considered your preferences.

This takes him by surprise. You knew I'd kiss you?

She smiles with her eyes.

No. But I've been hoping one day you would.

[sadgirlautumn]

The urge to read the new Kathleen Glasgow book despite being very depressed already this week…

[bcolfanfic]

girls don’t ever have a ??? what is this ??? breakneck-speed-developing friendship with a girl you meet during study abroad, who met a boy during study abroad and was dating him the whole time while also ditching him to be with you. don’t go across germany with her for the weekend to meet her extended family and have them tell you they thought you’d known each other for years not 3 weeks. dont walk around an old church with her family and see her down the pew having a moment to herself praying. don’t have a (: haha what (: smiling at each other moment in her grandma’s backyard. it will haunt you for the rest of your waking life.

[ame-to-ame]

How ironic that literally the moral of dm is that to live is to consume and to have desires is a proof of living and so wanting is not bad!!! Wanting is not bad!!! But every waking hour I repress myself from wanting that I don't even know really how I feel or what I want anymore

Which is kinda why I have like mixed feelings Abt falin bc I like falin I do she just reminds me of someone and she reminds me of the part of myself I thought I was growing out of but recently I've been falling back into

To not have any dislikes. To not want to hurt anyone. To be nonconfrontational. To forgive and say nothing about your family who cast you out and your brother who left you. To not have any complaints about the injustice of the world enacted upon you for being just a little different, but not really different from anyone at all because like everyone else you were just a kid trying to survive in a world that was new to you.

Falin was most alive to me when she said that she was willing to hurt others to ensure the survival and wellbeing of marcille and laios. Because in that moment she wasn't just someone who would go along with anything who was okay with everything--She wanted her brother and friend to be well. She wanted something!! And I think it's kinda implied with the whole message of the manga that falin was most alive in the end when she does choose to live. She chooses to live by consuming. She wants to live!! She wants to eat! And the lion says that it's the more painful path or something like that. But nonetheless she does it because she wants to. Want. Desire. You have to want something to have any force of will, any proof of living in this world, because how else will you change anything if you're okay with everything and let it change you?

But anyway. Yeah. I saw a post that ended like. I am crude at piano, crude at life, and full of wants (by onenhillion on tt) about being scared of wanting things for fear of rejection and fear of loss but coming to accept it. And imo with my own meaning projected onto it, accepting wanting bc it's such an integral part of being alive. You have to be okay with wanting things and have to be okay with rejection and loss.

Anyway all it is to say that I don't want to have lived a life where I only did things that other people wanted from me. Things other people told me to do. Things other people thought I should do. I want to have at least tried to do the things I wanted and be the person I want to be and even if I fail on the way I will have felt better knowing that I at least tried.

I guess that's why I always try to take the initiative and try to be open and make the first move and whatnot because. Well. Life is too short to be scared or to wait for a better time or to doubt myself. But even then I'm too aware that I'm still not brave enough sometimes that I'm still too scared sometimes. But at least the times I've tried I can be proud of. It's a work in progress. Progress isn't linear. I just have to be more sure and more certain in myself.

God it's my life and I'm the only one responsible for it so. I better be taking the wheel back soon lol.

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

being insane has saved my life and benefitted me more than trying to be sane ever has

[shikai-the-storyteller]

People are drawing Luzu / Arin fanart again and connecting him to the latest theories, nature is healing 🫶

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

Cashgrab superhero tv shows will say theyre focusing on mental health and mental health issues and they have a interest in portraying things accurately and sensitively and then they get cleared by a comic book from 1980 that uses incorrect and insensitive terminology and features a character whos killed people

[lovelesslittleloser]

DCA fic from Sun & Moon’s perspective where everything seems normal at first, new assistant in the daycare/nightshift security guard, but every few days, increasing as the days go by, they suddenly know a lot more about everyone in the pizzaplex, and can specifically list off things that will go wrong, when they’ll happen, and a few methods as to how they could fix it, if they had the skill, while simultaneously having practiced skills in areas that they didn’t the night before.

And if/when Gregory makes his sudden appearance in the pizzaplex, y/n knows exactly what to do, where to avoid, and what to say to get Gregory to trust them (he has a secret codeword for time-travelers, because duh)

🎶Prepare for the horrors, this night will keep repeating over and over, and over, until you make it to the end~🎶