#I was a little obsessed with it I thought (and tbh still think) it's a cute word

[kheprriverse]

Y’all thinking about an older Ares has RUINED me

[king-spite]

this is Elara and Maven btw

[r0bee]

So it was YOU! YOU'RE the one who made me think wanting to kiss my best friend in primary school was a normal friendship thing DAISY WELLS!! CURSE YOU AND THE GOOD CHARACTERISATION/FORESHADOWING IN THE IN-CHARACTER GLOSSARY!!!!!!

[skitskatdacat63]

I don't know whether to be embarrassed at myself or not abt the way I instantly knew what year it was....

[mephiles-the-jester]

Funny you post your Doll AU Shadow art because I’ve been thinking about the concept of a Frankenstein’s monster Shadow all day, and your AU scratches the same stitch (badum tssss)

I’d like to know more of this au if you have a story for it

(eyy)

so my basic kinda idea for my au for most of the characters is that its kinda like if everyone got hit with whatever caused werehog sonic, so its just a lot of dark gaia energy concentrated in one place. it would happen like years and years before sonics friends would be born, so they all just grew up like that

for shadow specifically though, they were still supposed to be ultimate lifeform, but instead of staying in space, they were made where that energy is strongest. the issue was that when all was said and done, shadow looked like a freaky doll and it freaked out all the scientists. maria still loved the little guy like a brother despite how odd they looked, but everyone else in the building was insistent on destroying it. i cant decide how it happens, but maria ends up sacrificing herself to help shadow escape either way, and shadow ends up falling into a 50 year sleep in a graveyard without any charge left in them to keep them active. tails would find him and help them but they never heard them talk. eventually shadow met rouge, where tails found out that shadow could talk, but only rouge's ears could pick it up because it was so quiet

i have a couple other ideas for the other guys, like amy as the headless horseman with a pumpkin head on her hammer (because itd be badass), tails as a kitsune, and knuckles as a zombie maybe. sonic would technically only exist in the au as regular sonic who ends up in the wrong dimension but ends up fitting right in as the werehog at night. blaze might be with him so hes not alone probably, she also gets a cool werecat form (still a werewolf but theyre now insisting on saying it the wrong way) to also fit in

[neverendingford]

.

[stelashe]

I thought I was cured bc I played the sims for 30 minutes a month ago after years but today I played it for 4 hours straight I can't be trusted around video games I'll end up dead after drinking my own pee

[fishsticksart]

John F. Peto, Old Souvenirs, circa 1881-1901, oil on canvas

[pandoa]

it's the way you can take two characters who aren't necessarily my favorite and make these butterflies form in my stomach with how sweet you write things that gets me, cherry <333 this was one of my favorite fics that came from Cherry's Harvesting, in all honesty, and i'm so happy it got a part 2~

𝓑𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓒𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 - mini-project

Charming Eyes

Notes: based on this Cherry’s Harvesting request where Anon asked for Trey, Azul, Deuce and Floyd (and whoever else I wanted) to discover that Reader’s very dark-brown eyes (nearly black) could be actually brown if you shine light directly into it. And then they fall more in love with Reader~ I used Lilia instead of Trey and Azul at that time, so now they’re here too yay &lt;3

Trey Clover, Azul Ashengrotto x gender neutral reader / fluff headcanons / reader has dark brown eyes / use of “you” pronouns

Earlier that day, Trey had invited you in Heartslabyul to try out an old Clover family recipe. He planned to present this recipe to Riddle in order to expand the menu options at the Unbirthday Parties — if the Queen of Heart’s rules allowed, of course. And since Trey wanted to spend time with you, he asked for your help;

One of the first things to do was checking the egg cartons. Trey learned a trick in Magicam that consisted of using the cellphone’s flashlight over the shells to find out if the egg was good — the light would show an orange yolk — or bad — the inside would reveal to be dark. But, just as he turned on the flashlight, you crouched near the counter to take a look at the eggs;

Trey got terrifically surprised when the light flashed through your eyes and revealed, for a very brief moment, that behind your normally coal-black irises, it was the most beautiful shade of cocoa. Trey turned off his phone’s flashlight quickly, however. He didn’t want to blind you or anything;

But it still was a stunning discovery. During the preparation of the recipe, you commented on how it was a normal effect that the light had on your eyes. But so rare were the occasions that some strong light was cast upon them that you were sure hardly anyone noticed that your eyes had this effect;

And you sure couldn’t imagine the impression this would leave on Trey. He thought about it for a long time. So, he was one of the few people who knew? Trey felt special, although it was extremely embarrassing to admit it. He wasn’t very versed in romance, and this situation sounded like some of the honeyed things that he heard his parents saying to each other — and maybe he wasn’t that far behind;

As the days went by, Trey became more attentive to your eyes when you went out together in very sunny places or where the overall ambient light was quite strong. He hoped to see the glorious brown in your eyes again. Any day, any time;

It seemed almost natural that this was a unique effect of yours, reflecting your nature. You often keep things about yourself deep in your soul. Trey understood what that was like better than anyone else. He looked normal, too, but he could be unpredictable. Or rather, he seemed crazy, but he was in fact quite average;

You could pick up on that whenever you stared at him — meanwhile, he would look at you just as subtle and passionately. Trey’s eyes were golden as butter, soft like honey. Sweet and salty, mixed in the ceramic bowl that was his face. He would have died laughing at the comparison if he had listened;

You cooked together again, but this time at the Ramshackle. It was a pastry that Trey insisted on teaching you to make, called “Hatter’s eye” — an invention of his uncle, who was an oculist. It was worth the joke, you’d to say. It seemed complicated to do but it turned out to be pretty simple;

Finally, you tried the pastry when you two finished making it and it was really delicious. It looked like an eye inside a hat — honestly, the taste was better and easier to digest than the eccentric appearance. You turned around excitedly to thank Trey for the experience, your eyes shining like fireflies at night;

Then Trey ended up remembering something that was kind of obvious from the beginning: whether it was the black shadows of your eyes or their dark chocolate brown hue over the light, your gaze was beautiful in every way. That’s because it was you he was staring at deep down. And Trey could tell he just kept falling deeper down his heart’s rabbit hole, head over heels in love with you.

Sitting on his VIP office couch and reading a magazine full of interesting advertisements, Azul waited for your arrival so you both could dine in the Mostro Lounge that evening. It was a date in its humblest form — if “humble” could be used with the octopus merman. But without any warning, you soon rushed in, completely exhausted and practically collapsing on his lap;

You scared the living daylights out of Azul with that. But if anything, with the day’s fatigue weighing on your shoulders, you didn’t mind him and got distracted by the round ceiling lamp above — it was only really visible if you were in that position. It lit up the office while the little lamps on the shelves did the rest. It was in this mixture of several different lights that Azul noticed something in your eyes;

A discovery simply unimaginable! Your eyes were usually so dark that Azul found himself wondering if there could exist humans with shark-like eyes. But, right there under that bright light, he came across a shade of brown hiding in the depths of your gaze, like a ship full of treasures resting on the sea;

Because staring too long at the light was starting to hurt your eyes, you sat more appropriately next to Azul. He was still surprised, yet disguised it well. Even though he was no longer in the old-fashioned business of rolling you into contracts, there was something about this tiny piece of information that delighted him;

How many people knew your eyes had this ability? Your friends? Just your family? Would he be a humble lucky one among your acquaintances? Eventually, Azul brought it up again and you explained things better — and yes, he really was the only one in the entire NRC who noticed the fact;

It was inevitable that Azul would feel indebted to you in some way. What could he do anyway? He discovered a special secret about you unintentionally, even if it wasn't this big shock he was making it seem like it was;

In short, that was how you ended up being called to the Mostro Lounge, at its night after hours. Azul decided to “pay” an exchange for his discovery in the form of showing you again what his octopus form looked like. He was inside the huge aquarium on the wall — half hidden while you didn’t arrive, a little unsure if it really was a good idea this situation he created for himself;

From your own part, you were more scared to find out the real, crazy reason you were there than at the sight of a half-octopus boy in front of you per se. As you approached each other — well, as you could since there was a wall of reinforced glass between you — you stared deep into Azul’s eyes and he, into yours;

The merman’s blue eyes seemed like a mixture of the crystalline blue of his human form and the slight eye opacity of certain octopus species — perhaps that's why his vision worsened when he took the potion to the surface;

From his point of view, on the other side, the lights in the lounge added a bluish marine effect to the brown color of your eyes. Azul was already completely in love with you but, it was as if you only convinced him more that he was in the right direction with each new conversation. Not as if you were selling your love, but as a confirmation. He had no doubt of his feelings for you;

But, in all honesty, Azul always knew that you were a rare pearl. This from the first time he faced you, trying to investigate your mysterious black-ink eyes to the present day. And don’t think that this wouldn’t continue in the future too. Azul loved you for who you were, the real person behind your eyes. And you thought the same about him.

| Special notes: as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't exist a pastry called "Hatter's eye" lol but now that I came with the concept, I'm curious about how it would look like and the taste... |

[reidmania]

home sweet home | s.reid

summary; you always try to do the grocery shopping early sunday mornings before your daughter wakes up, although nothing is better than coming home to her and Spencer, dancing around the living room as the sunrises.

warnings; established relationship, husband!spencer, wife!reader, dad!spencer, mum!reader, girl dad!spencer they have an almost four year old daughter who is obsessed with uptown girl by billy joel (me) very domestic, fluff fluff fluff!

an; beartober fic 4? i think idk tbh.. so beartober is actually just bearautumn or bearfall for all u americans.. THANK YOU, short and sweet, 1.1k

The sun is barely up, casting a faint golden light over the neighbourhood, bags of groceries filling your trunk. The air is fresh and cool, a calmness hanging in the morning that feels like a secret you’re carrying home. sun is just breaking over the horizon as you pull into the driveway, the early morning air still clinging to the quiet that the day hasn’t yet stirred from. It’s a strange sight, your little house framed by dawn’s first light. The neighborhood is still asleep, the windows dark, save for one—a warm glow coming from your living room.

Balancing grocery bags in your arms, you push the door open as quietly as you can. You can hear something faint—a familiar song wafting down the hallway. You don’t need to hear lyrics to know what song is playing, uptown girl by billy joel had been on repeat for the last serval days, your daughter’s new found favourite song. You can feel the bass through the floor, each beat somehow filling the house with an energy that’s playful, light.

Your curiosity piqued, you pad quietly toward the sound. As you near the living room, you freeze, the sight in front of you holding you captive. There, in the middle of your living room, is Spencer. His hair is a little wild, uncombed from bed, and he’s in an old t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, the ones you tease him about because they’re so threadbare. And in his arms, held tight but free to move, is Kinslie, who just about to turn four, her hair a mess with similar uncombed brunette curls like her father’s.

Spencer’s dancing, moving in that awkward way of his that you love so much. It’s a careful, thoughtful kind of dancing. He sways and shuffles, occasionally spinning, his movements unpolished but joyous. Kinslie is laughing, her head thrown back, cheeks flushed, hands clutching at her father’s shirt as they twirl around. They don’t notice you. Not yet. You set down the grocery bags carefully, as if the slightest sound would break this spell, this little glimpse into their world that they unknowingly offered you.

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms, letting yourself enjoy the scene for a moment longer. “Again?” Spencer asks, when the song comes to an end, you wonder how many times it had played. His face is animated, light shining in his eyes, and Kinslie laughs even harder, when she nods, as he twirls her around, her feet barely touching the floor. She’s singing too, in her little-girl way, mostly mumbling the words but getting the chorus with an enthusiasm that’s pure joy.

It’s all so simple, so perfect. And then, as if sensing your presence, Spencer glances over and sees you. His face lights up in that way that makes your heart swell, that makes you fall in love with him all over again.

“Hey,” he says, breathless, a grin stretching across his face.

“Hey,” you reply, a smile tugging at your own lips. “Is this what happens when I’m not around?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Why? Jealous? You can always join in,” he says with a shrug, feigning nonchalance, the wide grin on his face. But you can see it, the pride, the warmth in his eyes as he looks at you, then back at Kinslie, who’s squirming in his arms, eager for another turn. “Thought we’d start the day off right.”

Kinslie wiggles, pulling at Spencer’s shirt. “Mama, dance with us!” She’s looking up between you and Spencer with a look that’s equal parts admiration and amusement. You look at Spencer, who holds out a hand, eyebrows raised in an invitation you can’t resist. The grocery bags can wait, the rest of the world can wait. Right now, here, in this little bubble of happiness and love, nothing else matters.

You step forward, your fingers slipping into his, and he pulls you close, gently at first, testing, as though you might decide to step away. But you don’t. You laugh, letting the music and his warmth guide you as you fall into the rhythm of the song. The three of you move together, a little circle of laughter, Kinslie’s giggles bubbling over as she tries to mimic your steps, your spins, your little flourishes.

He pulls you closer, Kinslie still holding onto him, her little arms wrapped around his neck, then she’s moving to latch onto you, a laugh leaves your lips as you take her from Spencer’s arms into your own. “Maybe I should stop going grocery shopping so early.” You mumbled, it became a routine for you, on Sundays you would leave the house early, before sunrise to try and get the groceries done before Kinslie woke.

And you seemed to always come home to her and Spencer doing something new. You never minded having an early riser as a daughter, maybe she loved the mornings with her dad. You couldn’t blame her, you loved mornings with Spencer as well.

He grinned as he placed his lips gently into your hairline, he knew well enough, bending down to place a similar softer one in Kinslie’s. “Maybe we should make them evening dance parties instead.” He suggested, so you could be more involved.

You snorted, continuing to bounce Kinslie on your hip to the music, “Baby, you and Kinslie are both asleep by eight pm.” You reminded.

He just grinned, Kinslie tugs at your shoulder, interrupting. “Mama, spin again!”

You grin and spin her around, making her giggle even louder. Spencer watches, his smile widening as he joins in, his hands gently guiding your waist so you spin in sync. For a moment, you’re all moving together, twirling and laughing, the room filled with warmth and love.

Spencer gives you a soft look, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Welcome home, by the way.”

You smile, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Not a bad welcome,” you murmur, feeling the love in his gaze, in the warmth of his hand on your waist.

Kinslie reaches her hands out to her dad, eyes wide and hopeful. “Daddy, can I be big?” She’s looking up at him pleading, those eyes he wouldn’t say no to even if he wanted to.

“Course you can, kins.” You let him place his hands under her much smaller arms and take her. Big to her, meant sitting up on his shoulders. He wasted no time getting her into position, each of her small legs placed over his shoulders as he held onto her.

“How many times has this song played?” You asked, as the song played once again. So it was on loop.

Spencer just gave you a look, one that told you it had played too many times. He didn’t mind, neither did you. It was hard to get annoyed at something that made your home feel so soft.

[kachowden]

I know I should be posting my drafts but I literally can’t get the idea of a yandere or obsessive crush out of my head.

Like he’s Mr Cool Guy, Mr Popular whatever. He’s a model student, kindhearted, athletic, smart the whole package. Perfect Goodboy type right? He’s literally Mr.Perfect.

And I’m personally biased to the narrative of having a crush on him, just like half the campus. Maybe the only difference being, he actually gives a damn about you. Mr.Perfect could be a facade, or maybe you just bring the crazy out of him, but he cannot stop thinking about you. You’re different. Manor y/n moment.

Everyday it’s always wandering eyes, and quick smiles. He always seems to linger somewhere nearby, and you think he’s none the wiser. And you’re not gonna complain right? You’re just some kid in the halls, another face in the crowd. And now you get to enjoy seeing the guy you’re in love with on a regular basis.

Despite your own thoughts though, he never fails to call out to you, or greet you in passing. If there’s an empty seat beside you, somehow he always ends up in. If there’s a snack you wanted from the vending machine, suddenly he has an extra.

You just think it’s good luck. But it’s not. Mr.Perfect plans it all. You’re never too far from him, never too out of reach. His schedule aligns with yours almost flawlessly. Almost. Maybe there’s one class you don’t share. And it’s the one class where his friends/clique notice a significant change in behavior. Still polite, still perfect. But more reserved. Less outgoing. They think it’s just a simple dislike for the subject, or maybe the teacher.

But it’s just you. His perfect little crush.

Mr.Perfect might become a recurring character tbh..

[muletia]

alrighr, yandere it is(maybe, I mean truck dad hyperfixates on you like you're his autism interest)

And also him being completely horny on the inside is so funny like

"Ah hello Y/N, it's always a pleasure to have you here(i was feeling so depressed and having a boner 5 minutes ago in my dorm)"

that's him, that's my obsessed optimus.

like yeah, he smiles at you and seems a bit chirpier than usual in your presence, but he still keeps his feelings for you bottled up inside. he’s like boiling water in a pot with a lid on. the pressure makes the lid rattle, so you know the water’s boiling, but you don’t know how much. when it comes to Optimus’ feelings — it’s intense as hell. giving him attention calms him down a little since he can focus on you, on the conversation, or the contact between your skin and his metal, but if you’re not around, bro’s like a ticking time bomb. and, it really doesn’t help that he’s horny. sometimes.

let’s say he hasn’t seen you for a long time (a week). the longing eats away at his processor; he thinks about you 24/7, and suddenly his thoughts start getting bolder, more shameless, focusing more on your body than your soul. he tries to remind himself, to scold himself, that it’s immoral and he absolutely shouldn’t be stirring himself up like this, because it’s hurtful for both of you. that he’s being crude. and then he looks down and already knows that he’s failed again, that he couldn’t stop himself. and it’s exactly like you wrote — then you show up at the base, and Optimus acts ‘normal,’ sweet towards you, asking if you’re okay, how life’s going, anything just to keep you talking to him, like he wasn't jerking off 5 minutes ago thinking about your cleavage 💀

optimus: the world is a cruel and unjust place. i feel excitement at the sight of a being 50 times smaller than me. i am going insane without them, i need to be near them 25 hours a day or i’ll lose my mind, but i can’t confess my feelings to them because they’ll think i’m disgusting and creepy. i will never be happy...

*reader walks into the base*

optimus: omg reader hi

i can totally see him listening to country music and imagining the two of you as a couple living out in the countryside with a bunch of sparklings.

just pray to god he never finds out what thirst songs are, because he WILL let his erotic fantasies run wild (you top btw)

tbh the only thing that could save him is you confessing your feelings for him and accepting the fact that he’s a freak when it comes to you, because optimus would just keep spiraling in a loop of self-hatred, depression, and arousal until he just burns out.

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙love is never logical | 2023 grid˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pt3

pairing: 2023 f1 grid x nepo baby y/n prost reader (she/her)

genre: social media au, friends to lovers

warnings: spoiled nepo baby:)) 3rd & final part!! fluffy af probably

summary: in which everyone's favourite nepo baby finally feels ready to share her love story with the world ❤️

a/n: last part tehehe this was so fun to write LOL it feels so silly & ridiculous fr but hope u like it i tried to make it not super obvious who her man is but idk if it worked

request!!!: I would love a smau with reader who’s a nepo baby but is everyone’s fave nepo because she’s just living life aesthetically and the grid loves her and she’s hinting at a soft launch (idrc with which driver)

fc: gracie burns

my masterlist

part 1 • part 2 • part 3

instagram ->

ynprostupdates

liked by user12, user38, and 219,938 others

ynprostupdates an image of daniel ricciardo holding a mystery woman in an embrace from last night has been circulating, rumours saying it was y/n prost. could daniel be the mystery man that y/n has been soft launching on her social medias the past few months?

view all 18,283 comments

user1 NO WAY

user2 i thought daniel was with heidi? 😭😭

user3 well that definitely isnt heidi 💀

user4 well duh

user5 where my y/ndaniel shippers at

user6 all rise

user7 nooo i really thought it was lando

user8 where's that one y/nlance truther from twitter at right now

user9 bit of an age gap

user10 you must be new here

user11 💀💀💀

user12 that could literally be anyone, also it's ONLY A HUG!!

user13 🤔

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by landonorris, heidiberger_, and 847,192 others

yourusername my fwends

view all 8,193 comments

user14 obsessed with y/n subtly setting the record straight about daniel 💀

liked by yourusername, heidiberger_

danielricciardo i meant what i said y/n, you are banned from drinking alcohol

landonorris i second this

yourusername since when did men think they could tell me what i can & cant do? 🤔

danielricciardo since you became a danger to urself & others perhaps

heidiberger_ im on ur side btw y/n/n

yourusername knew i could count on you

user15 this feels like such a random group of people to hang out separately

user16 i dont think so they're all friends arent they?

user17 tbh i think everyone loves y/n but she does this thing every so often where she hangs out with wags & i think it's to make sure everyone knows she's not overstepping or anything

user18 y/n is my favourite (potential) wag

yourusername posted a story

liked by alex_albon, landonorris, and 538,293 others

landonorris since when were you in ireland

yourusername since like 2 hours ago

landonorris why

yourusername never been

landonorris you know a race weekend starts tomorrow right

yourusername you know we're not f1 drivers right?

danielricciardo bring me a guinness back!

yourusername y/bff/n said she'll bring it in her mouth & feed you it like a little bird

danielricciardo dont want one anymore

user19 Y/N WHY ARE YOU IN MY COUNTRY

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by lance_stroll, lilymhe, and 792,103 others

yourusername no one panic we're back on time

view all 6,294 comments

user21 was lance in ireland with her

user22 no just lily y/bff/n & some other girls apparently

landonorris slay‼️

oscarpiastri are you relaxed now

landonorris urm. yes

yourusername LOL

lance_stroll everyone cheered

lilymhe 😌😌😌

user23 i want y/n's life

user24 i just want y/n

alex_albon can i have my girlfriend back now?

yourusername for now yes

yourusername posted a story

liked by lilymhe, lance_stroll, and 827,183 others

lilymhe omg y/n

lilymhe this is so hard launch

yourusername 😭😭😭 DONT SAY THAT

lance_stroll 😧😧😧

user25 THERE'S NO WAY YOU GUYS ARENT DATING

user26 OH MY GOD IM SCREAMING

lewishamilton congratulations to you both😊

yourusername THIS WASNT MEANT TO BE A HARD LAUNCH

maxverstappen1 only took him almost beating me for you to hard launch

yourusername you STILL got no bitches max

yourusername sorry for being mean im overwhelmed right now

maxverstappen1 it's all love 🤔

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by lance_stroll, maxverstappen1, and 1742,893 others

yourusername & i fell for you like water 💧

tagged: lance_stroll

view all 43,204 comments

lance_stroll i love you ❤️

liked by yourusername

lilymhe FINALLY

yourbff thank god coz i cant keep anymore secrets

danielricciardo anymore? what else do you know?

lewishamilton congratulations for real this time!

maxverstappen1 congrats on pulling

yourusername 😘

landonorris 🎉🥳🍾🎁🎈🎊

charles_leclerc i miss you y/n please get rid of this man and return to ferrari immediately

carlossainz55 i second this

scuderiaferrari we third this

yourusername for you guys i just might😌❤️

alex_albon officially graduated from third wheel status

liked by yourusername, lilymhe

lance_stroll

liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 828,103 others

lance_stroll this is me flexing

tagged: yourusername

view all 34,193 comments

yourusername 🫶🫶🫶

liked by lance_stroll

pierregasly kika is celebrating rn

yourusername my girlll😊😊

fernandoalo_official congratulations to you both 🎉‼️❤️💚

user32 this is so personal to me

user33 she is so amazing

yourbff OMG PRETTIEST GIRL ALIVE

liked by lance_stroll, yourusername

THE END 🤍

[moonstruckmoony]

A Ravenclaw Lunch 🦅

Drew some of my favorite Ravenclaws on this platform. Although one isn't necessarily a Ravenclaw. (@traceyc-uk I genuinely thought he was a Ravenclaw when I first saw him lol but I saw your comment reply somewhere that your first playthrough was Ravenclaw so I think this counts… a bit? 😂)

This post is basically a peace offering (and a love letter) bcs I want to make more Ravenclaw friends 👀👉🏻👈🏻 definitely not because I'm obsessed with you guys' MCs

I swear it was supposed to be a silly doodle at first but idk how or when down the line but somehow it turned into this mega drawing. Took me weeks to finish it. I’m not happy with a few technical things especially lights and shadows… and some other things as well but I leave it be bcs I’m aware that I’m still learning 🥲 The rest I’m pretty satisfied with, I’m just happy that I got to finally finish this.

Front row (left to right):

Violet and Pearl Castellar by @vienguinn Omg HAPPY BELATED BELATED BIRTHDAY TO THESE BABIES! These 2 are some of my favorites and everytime you post I always open my phone real quick, your short comics are my comfort 🩵

Clora Clemons by @choccy-milky I cannot not draw Clora?!!?! I consider you a legend in this fandom tbh 👑 also I want to thank you bcs your fic and illustrations literally helped me go through my stressful period when I was at my lowest bcs of my new demanding job that I started half a year ago. I look forward to your post everytime and your Clora and Seb always heals my soul 😭🩵💚

Sally Salamander by @siboom777 Sally is just so wacky and unapologetically herself and I love her for it 🩵 Does she take commissions for toys tho?

Marvin Jerry by @runicxraven MY LOVELY SILLY ADORABLE LITTLE NERD 💗💗💗💗 I need more Marvin in my life honestly.

@najiang ‘s MC - I’m so so sorry I didn’t draw her full face😭, I tried my best to show her face as much as I can while still looking like she’s taking those sausages haha. But anyway please know that I love your art so so much and I kept going back to the curry one and the one where MC came across Amit with beard as adults (that one is hilarious). Idk if your MC has a name or you left it nameless? I assume it was the latter but if she has one I’d love to know!

Faustine Daemon by @faustinio27 Hey, a fellow INFJ! Winter is the same 🩵 I really love her story and especially her personality character sheet, you drew her expressions really well and I’m a fan!

Back row (left to right):

Oliver Lennox by @pixie-dustss Handsome boi 🥰 We’re friends already (I hope I’m not the only one who thinks that way 🫢) from TikTok and you made me a video for Secret Santa last year and I just found out recently that you’re on Tumblr too so I want to say thanks by drawing Oliver! 🩵🩵🩵

Aurélie Collins by @morelikeravenbore I loove this look for Aura, she just looks so chic with the hat and scarf 😭🩵 Sassy Ravenclaw bebe 🥰 My Winter has some French heritage (the lore is still rotting in my notebook bcs I haven’t had the chance to draw her family members 🥲) so I do hope they can be friends and Aura would teach her French bcs she can’t speak much of it 👉🏻👈🏻

Alistair Dusk by @speedysart Surprise! You commented on my last speedpaint on Tiktok yesterday and I want to spill this art so bad but I was almost done so I kept my mouth shut haha. I love the pretty boi’s hair and piercings, and the fact that you chose this blazer for him, I just love it he looks so dapper in that 😣🩵

Eleonora Russel by @zordanna I love sweet Eleonora and her fascination with the moon and stars 🩵🌌 Oh and I kept coming back to your “I feel like an orange” Tiktok bcs it’s so fluffy and it heals my stress… also I adore your art it’s super soft and painty and delicate 🥹💗

@traceyc-uk ‘s MC - YOUR MC. I SWEAR TO MERLIN HE’S ON MY MIND 24/7 LATELY. Not sure why, it’s probably bcs I kept re-reading your comics. Also bcs he’s an adorable little golden retriever (but also a fierce cat!😼) You’re super talented in drawing comics and facial expressions, I have a lot to learn especially in terms of layouting… last time I made a comic I hated the layout and the fact that it looks stiff to me, so your comics has been such an inspiration!

[ruewritesoccasionally]

A Symphony of Sin | Terry Richmond

Pairing: Dark!Professor Terry Richmond x Dark! Black Reader

Warnings: extreme dark themes and smut (18+), stalking, obsessions, manipulation, teasing, jealousy, possessiveness, power dynamics, oral (m receiving), rough sex, choking, spitting, light slapping, hair pulling, degradation kink, praise kink, use of names (princess, slut, sweetheart) } everything is consensual but read at your own risk !

Summary: The final movement between her and Terry reveals who is really playing by the rules and who runs the game. The next moves are darker, more psychological, and with an even bigger power shift. By the end of it, she’ll know—this isn’t just her obsession anymore.

Word Count: 3.6K

a/n: this is a part 2 to 'Lessons in Obsession', one in which I initially had no intentions of writing because tbh sequels aren't my strength but @barnesnnobles comment inspired me to delve deeper so thank you bby. when i first started writing this, i didn't think it was going to be this dark but i think it's depraved in the best way 🤭...

The game had changed. She knew that. He had made sure of it.

Ever since that night—the night where her carefully constructed fantasy collided with his very real intentions—things had been different. She no longer watched from the shadows, no longer merely observed him like a scholar collecting data. No, now she felt him. Everywhere.

But the most dangerous thing?

She thought she had a handle on it.

Terry still carried himself with that same unbothered confidence, that slow, deliberate way he moved, as if every step, every glance, was calculated three moves ahead. In class, he was the same strict, enigmatic professor he had always been—sharp-minded, sharp-tongued, and completely unreadable.

And yet.

When she sat in his lecture hall, knees pressed together beneath the desk, hands folded as if she weren’t replaying the way those same hands had gripped her thighs, there were moments—fleeting, almost imperceptible—where she swore she saw something in his eyes. A flicker of amusement when she adjusted in her seat, when she bit her lip without realising, when she lingered a second too long after class.

She was under no illusions now. He was watching. He had always been watching.

And God, she loved it.

It started small.

Little things—things that no one else would think twice about, but she caught them.

“Some of you seem to be distracted today,” Terry remarked one afternoon, his voice even but laced with something dangerous. His gaze swept the lecture hall, pausing for a half-second too long when it landed on her. “If you’ve got something occupying your mind, I suggest you clear it before it gets in the way of your work.”

Her breath caught.

A warning.

He didn’t need to elaborate. She knew exactly what he meant.

The previous night was still seared into her skin—his mouth, his hands, the way he made her admit to everything. How she’d clung to him when he finally let her have what she’d been chasing for so long.

She shifted in her seat, pressing her thighs together, pulse thrumming.

And Terry? He just continued lecturing, unbothered, as if he hadn’t just sent a shockwave straight to her core with a single sentence.

Then, he started testing her.

“Read the passage out loud,” he ordered one day, flipping through the textbook. “Slowly. Every word. Let’s see if you can follow simple instructions.”

Her stomach flipped.

She swallowed, gripping the page tighter, pulse pounding as she realised exactly what he was doing.

When she hesitated, Terry arched an eyebrow. “Having trouble, sweetheart?”

The term of endearment was so casual, so devoid of its usual weight, that no one else thought twice about it.

She knew better.

Heat flooded her cheeks as she parted her lips, voice coming out steady—too steady. She would not let him shake her. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

She read. Slowly.

And he watched.

The entire time.

She liked the game. The push and pull. So she pushed back.

One day, she lingered after class—not out of necessity, but out of something else.

“You’re staying late,” he remarked, not looking up from his notes.

She shrugged, feigning innocence. “Just needed some clarification on the assignment.”

Terry hummed, unconvinced, flipping the page in front of him. “You’re a smart girl. I find it hard to believe you don’t already know the answer.”

Her stomach clenched. The way he said smart girl—like he was reminding her exactly who had the upper hand.

She exhaled through her nose, willing herself to keep her composure. “Can’t a student just want a little extra guidance?”

That made him look up.

Slowly.

She swore she saw it then—the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth, the knowing glint in his eyes.

“You’ve got five minutes,” he said, his voice silky-smooth, as if they both didn’t know he was lying.

But then, she made a mistake.

She got too comfortable.

Too bold.

And she pushed too far.

It started as harmless flirting. A casual, easy smile to another professor in the hallway. A lingering laugh with a classmate in the library. Nothing that would have mattered before.

But now?

Now, everything mattered.

She should’ve noticed the way Terry’s eyes darkened when he caught the exchange. She should’ve registered the subtle shift in his body language when she walked into class the next day.

But she didn’t.

Not until he called on her, voice calm, smooth as glass.

“You. Come here.”

A command, not a request.

The air in the room changed. She felt it, like the drop in temperature before a storm.

She stood, swallowing hard as she walked to the front of the class, acutely aware of every pair of eyes watching her.

Terry gestured to the board. “Demonstrate the method we discussed last class.”

It wasn’t a difficult request. She knew the answer. But when she reached for the marker, her fingers trembled slightly.

She felt him behind her. Not close enough to be inappropriate, not close enough for anyone else to notice—

But she noticed.

Her heart pounded as she wrote, forcing herself to focus, to pretend she didn’t feel his presence like a second skin.

“Careful,” he murmured, low enough for only her to hear. “Your hands are shaking.”

She froze.

His voice was even, calm. But when she turned her head slightly—just enough to catch the edge of his expression—she saw it.

The warning.

The punishment brewing just beneath the surface.

She’d underestimated him.

She’d thought she had control.

But one look at Terry told her exactly what was about to happen:

She was about to learn—again—who really held the leash.

She expected him to crack. To seethe, to glower, to grip the desk and try to control himself in that careful, calculated way he always did. She wanted him to react, to burn hot, to show her that she wasn’t the only one consumed.

But when she risked a glance at Terry?

He looked... calm.

Unbothered.

Like he didn’t just watch her bat her lashes at another man. Like he wasn’t even thinking about it.

And that unsettled her more than if he had reacted.

A coil of unease settled in her stomach. She didn’t like this. The game was theirs and theirs alone, a perfectly balanced scale of control. But now?

Now it felt like she had miscalculated. Like she had poked something she shouldn’t have.

That evening, as she lay in bed, her phone buzzed.

An unknown number.

No name. No explanation. Just a location, a time.

Nothing else.

Her stomach flipped, fingers tightening around her phone.

She shouldn’t go. She knew that. Knew it the way she knew that staring into the sun would burn, that running her tongue along the blade of a knife would slice.

But of course, she went.

Because no matter how much she wanted to believe she was the one obsessed—Terry had been keeping tabs on her too.

She just hadn’t noticed.

Not until now.

The address led her to a secluded townhouse. Upscale. Cold. The kind of place that felt too pristine to be truly lived in.

Her stomach tightened as she stepped inside. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of aged whiskey and something else, something undeniably him.

And there he was.

Sitting back in a leather chair, legs spread in that lazy yet controlled way of his. A glass of amber liquid in his hand.

Waiting.

Her throat went dry.

The door clicked shut behind her, sealing her fate.

Terry’s gaze dragged over her, slow, deliberate, like he was cataloguing every inch of her. He didn’t speak right away. Just watched. Let her squirm under the weight of his silence.

Then, finally—

“Sit.”

Her breath hitched.

“Don’t speak.”

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to move.

The moment she lowered herself into the chair across from him, he hummed, swirling the glass in his hand. “This rhetoric has become a habit, you know? Thinking that you’re clever, smarter than me, even.”

She opened her mouth—

He raised a hand. Don’t speak.

She clenched her fists in her lap.

He sighed, shaking his head. “You really thought that would work?” A small chuckle, rich and amused. “Thought you’d get a rise out of me? That I’d lose control?”

A pause. Then—

“Tell me, sweetheart—was it worth it?”

Her pulse pounded in her throat.

“I—”

He cut her off with a sharp look. “Don’t lie.”

She exhaled slowly. “I wanted your attention.”

“Mm. And now you have it.” He took a slow sip of his drink, letting the moment drag out. “The real question is... do you deserve it?”

A fresh wave of heat rolled through her, pooling low in her stomach.

She clenched her thighs together.

He noticed.

Of course he did.

Terry tilted his head, studying her. “You wanted to play, huh?” He set the glass down, leaning forward just enough to make the space between them feel smaller. “You wanted to make me jealous?”

Her breath caught.

He smirked. “Tell me, then. When you batted those pretty lashes at that boy, did it make you wet?”

Her thighs pressed tighter.

Terry’s eyes darkened.

He leaned back, stretching lazily. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous.” His fingers tapped against the arm of the chair, contemplative. “Here’s what’s going to happen.”

She swallowed hard.

“You’re going to sit there and do nothing.”

Her brows knit together.

His smirk widened. “No touching. No begging. No moving.” He let the words settle, watched the way her breath quickened. “You’re just going to sit there and take it.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

Terry reached for his drink, taking another slow sip.

Then, as if it was a passing thought, he murmured, “If you’re good, I might even let you come.”

Heat licked up her spine.

She clenched her hands in her lap, nails digging into her palms.

Terry smirked.

God, she wanted to wipe it off his face.

Or maybe she wanted him to ruin her.

Either way, she was fucked.

Terry’s eyes never left her as he rose from his seat, his movements slow, deliberate. It was almost like he was savouring the moment. He didn’t need to speak, not yet—his presence alone was suffocating. His hands undid the buttons of his shirt with a purpose, the sound of fabric pulling apart thickening the already heavy air between them. Each movement, each pull, every inch of skin exposed to her gaze was calculated, meant to drive her mad with want and frustration.

His chest was broad, his abs defined and tight. He was the perfect picture of control, yet there was something in the way his eyes darkened that spoke to an ache—a hunger that matched her own, though he’d never admit it. Not yet. He kept stripping, undressing with that same cold composure, his gaze trained on hers with intensity. Every inch of him being revealed, the heat radiating from his body, only made the ache in her chest worse. She clenched her thighs together, desperate to release the tension, but he hadn’t even touched her yet.

Terry tilted his head, watching her squirm, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "Look at you, all worked up. You thought you could control this, didn’t you?" His voice was smooth, mocking, but there was a bite under the words. "You thought you had it all figured out. Cute."

She opened her mouth to speak, to protest, but he raised a finger, stilling her. "Ah, ah, ah, princess. No talking. I didn’t tell you to speak. Remember your place." His voice was low, a command now, one she was afraid to disobey.

Her body trembled under his gaze, tears stinging the corners of her eyes as the realisation hit: She wasn’t in control. She’d never been. Every part of her wanted to push back, wanted to break free, but there was something in him—something dark—that made her feel small, insignificant. His dominance was suffocating, and she couldn’t escape it.

Terry leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. Briefly, it almost felt like he was comforting her, his hand cupping her cheek in a tender gesture. But then he whispered, low enough that only she could hear, “It’s okay, princess. Let me show you how it’s done.”

His words hit her like a punch to the gut. They weren’t soft. They weren’t comforting. It was a promise. One she was scared to face.

The words hung in the air, heavy with promise, and something primal stirred within her. Before she could brace herself, Terry’s hands were in her hair, yanking her face up to meet his gaze. His kiss was brutal—demanding, possessive, a clash of teeth and tongues, each second a battle for control. He pulled away just enough for her to gasp for air, before descending on her neck with vicious intent, his lips and teeth leaving marks as though he was claiming her.

"Come on now, Princess. You’re better than this" he murmured against her skin. "You thought you could push me. Make me jealous? Make me lose control? You really didn’t know how to play this game, did you?"

She gasped again as he pulled her forward, his hands on her throat now, his fingers light but unyielding. "I’ll show you what happens when you make me mad, sweetheart."

He didn’t wait for permission. He was already on her, his dick shoved into her mouth before she could even process the movement. She choked, the thick length stretching her jaw, her mouth forced open in a way that hurt. But it was a good hurt. A reminder of her place, of his control.

He groaned as he thrust deep, his hand holding the back of her head, guiding her to take more of him. She couldn’t even think, couldn’t breathe without his length hitting the back of her throat. He lost control in his own way—moans, growls, and guttural sounds poured freely from his parted lips, his knees bent ever so slightly, sweat trailing down every part of him that she’d been forbidden to touch. He reached down to feel the bulge in her throat, his length lodged perfectly there. The sensation nearly made him cum on the spot.

“It’s hard to talk back with your mouth full, isn’t it?” he growled. “Ugh, I wish you could see what I see right now. A fallen, over-ambitious slut too dumb to know when she’s been done.”

Her breath was shallow, her body trembling as he fucked her mouth with brutal force. She gagged, struggling to keep her composure as he forced his dick deeper, the back of her throat tightening with every thrust. She could feel him press against her, the sensation of him hitting her throat sending shocks of unwanted pleasure coursing through her.

“Such a good little toy,” he mocked, his voice dripping with both praise and contempt. “You wanted this, didn’t you? All you had to say is that you wanted me to yourself.”

She couldn’t answer. Not with her mouth full. She just moaned in response, her hands gripping the chair, nails digging into the armrests as he continued to ravage her with his thrusts.

His movements grew harder, faster, each thrust forcing her to take more of him. The ache in her jaw was almost unbearable, but the pain was secondary now. She was losing herself in the brutal rhythm of it all, in the way he made her feel so small, so insignificant, her body betraying her with each muffled moan that escaped her.

Terry pulled away from her mouth suddenly, making her gasp for air, but the moment she exhaled, he was on her again. His hands were everywhere—gripping her, tearing her clothes off, exposing her skin to his hungry touch. He worshipped her body, trailing his fingers over every curve, every stretch mark, every dip and rise of her form like it was a work of art he couldn’t get enough of. Her lingerie, the way it hugged her body, the way her skin glowed beneath it—he wanted to consume it all.

The sex itself was equally as pleasureful as it was torturous, a reminder that the moment she pushed him, she hadn’t broken his resolve—she had played into his hands once more. His actions juxtaposed his words, his touch both cruel and reverent. Her body was a canvas to him, a fragile porcelain doll not to be broken—unlike her mind. He admired every detail she put into her looks, how her lingerie complemented her dark, rich skin tone, the swell of her breasts, the stretch marks that looked almost hand-painted as they adorned the curves he had claimed. He trailed down her body, inhaling her sweet, natural scent like it was something sacred. He would kill for even just a vial of it.

His fingers slid down, finding the slickness between her legs. A low, satisfied hum vibrated from his chest as he pushed into her, slow at first, drawing out her moans, savouring the way her body clenched around him. Then faster. Harder. He swallowed each gasp, each cry, consuming her whole. She was on the edge of something—something dangerous, something that would burn her alive. But she couldn’t stop it.

Terry’s hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing just enough to steal the breath from her lungs. Her pulse throbbed beneath his fingers, her body trapped between the firm press of his palm and the unrelenting pace he set. “Open your mouth,” he murmured, his eyes dark with something almost sinister—daring her to disobey. When her lips parted, his grip tightened just slightly before he let a slow stream of spit drip onto her waiting tongue.

“Swallow,” he ordered, watching intently as she obeyed, the heat in his gaze burning straight through her.

His fingers weaved into her hair again, the motion almost tender—until he yanked, sharp and sudden, pulling her back into the moment with a quick slap across her cheek. It wasn’t meant to hurt, not really. It was a reminder. A warning. A claim. The sting barely registered against the flood of pleasure overtaking her, her body betraying her, arching into him, silently pleading for more.

The kisses were a battle, all tongue and teeth, his dominance bleeding into every movement. He took everything she had, demanded more, never relenting—never letting her forget exactly who was in control.

He practically imprinted himself onto her, searing his every being into her flesh so he could never be mistaken for anyone else, and certainly not the lesser in this dynamic. They were equals in their obsession, but one always had the upper hand—to remind the other not to get too comfortable. Someone had to know what was lurking around the corner.

He held her down, fucking her hard, relentless, until she couldn’t think anymore. Until her moans became cries, until her body was trembling beneath his weight, her mind untethered from reality. His words blurred into a haze of pleasure and pain. She was floating in it, drowning in it, lost in the brutal rhythm he set. But it felt like freedom.

He was still in control. She was still his.

And as he came, shuddering against her, his body trembling with the force of it, he pulled her close, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice a low, breathless whisper—

"You’ll never be the one in charge, sweetheart. Not now. Not ever."

Terry had barely left the room when her eyes landed on his briefcase, tucked neatly in the corner, the edge of a notebook peeking out. The sight of it sent a strange thrill through her, curiosity slithering up her spine. He had always been meticulous—calculated—but something about the way that notebook sat, slightly exposed, made it feel like an invitation.

She hesitated for a moment. Then, lightly stepping across the room, she reached for it.

The moment she flipped it open, her breath caught in her throat.

Pages and pages. Notes scrawled in sharp, precise handwriting. Her name repeated over and over. Every move she had made, every place she had been. Polaroids tucked between the pages—some she recognised, old photos she thought were buried in her past. Others… others she had never seen before. Shots of her walking home. Eating with friends. Sleeping.

Her hands trembled as she turned another page. More details. Names of her past lovers, their habits, their schedules. Addresses—previous and current. The make and model of her car, the exact date and time of her last oil change. A level of detail that made her own obsessive notes on him seem amateur, laughable.

She should have been horrified. And maybe, deep down, she was. But mostly? Mostly, she was impressed.

All this time, she thought she was the one keeping tabs, the one pulling strings, feeding her obsession in secret. But compared to this? Her work was nothing but a failed imitation of his masterpiece.

She was so enthralled, so absorbed in his twisted devotion, that she didn’t hear him return.

A quiet throat clearing made her snap the book shut, her heart hammering against her ribs. She turned, and there he was—standing in the doorway, watching her with an unreadable expression. But there was no panic, no urgency. No fear.

Because why would he be afraid? He had intended for her to see this one day. He had wanted her to know.

Terry stepped forward, slow, deliberate. A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips as he leaned down, his voice a low murmur, thick with satisfaction.

“As you can see, sweetheart,” he said, his fingers trailing along the cover of the notebook, “you were mine from the moment you stepped into my class.”

taglist: @writingsbytee @venusincleo @nickidub718 @notapradagurl7 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @wildcardmelaninfreak

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[byuntrash101]

dirty laundry & wet dreams

reader x perv!han smut | mdni 2.4k jisung has a big fat crush on you and the only way he can cope with his feeings is to jack off to the thought of you with the clothes he's stolen nsfw tags under the cut

perv!jisung, roommates AU, somnophilia (that means non con), bodywhorship (f), panty snifffer!han, scent kink, jisung is just obssesed with you tbh, jisung takes pictures of you while you sleep, getting caught kink, groping, masturbation (m), oral (f), squirting, cum eating

a/n: i have been thinking about this for a long a time. thank you everyone that voted for han i think the perv thing suits him he just extra pervy and we love to see it <3 also dont mind me being obsessed with his hair (im fine) (no im not)

DISCLAIMER: PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THE TAGS AND TO CLICK OFF IF ANYTHING SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING YOU WOULDN’T ENJOY.

skz masterlist | navigation

Jisung sighed in frustration again. Still nothing! He’s been salvaging your laundry basket for this past week and there’s nothing he’s interested in. 

He settled for your dirty gym tank top and stuffed it in his pocket before leaving the shared bathroom and heading to his room.

You see, Jisung has had a silly little crush on you for a year now and that’s the only way he knows that helps him cope. That way he can act normal to you during the day, doing standard roommate stuff, like sharing a meal or watching anime together on your tiny laptop screen set on the coffee table in your student flat.

That way he can do all these without catching his eyes plunging into your cleavage showing every time you bent down a little to scoop food into your mouth. Or he can keep his hands to himself when you're sitting so close to him in the small couch, when your beautiful thighs are pressed to his own and he feels this rush through his body, grabbing a cushion to hide away the growing problem in his groin. His thumb lightly brushing over it under the cushion as he laughs at the show and comments casually on it with you. As if it’s nothing. 

Because he knows at night he’ll swipe your PJ's and press them to his face as if he was ready to absorb them through his nostrils. Snort your scent like a drug and let it take him to ecstasy, his mind traveling to a place where you are his, where he can smell and taste you. where he can feel your heated lips on his, where he can hear your blazing skin clashing against his, where he can feel how tight you are, how wet you are just for him, trembling, shaking, moaning for him.

But tonight it doesn't work. He took the sport top off his face out of frustration. He stayed there immobile laid on his bed as the heavy and hot  summer air engulfed itself through his cracked window. 

The smell doesn't do it for him… Of course it’s nice, it smells like you! But it also smelled like perfume and deodorant… that he didn’t like he liked your true smell, like nature intended it! To him you didn't need these artifices, your most natural self was perfect.

That’s why he would always steal your PJ’s because usually you hop in the shower at night then hop into your night clothes and spend the night in them, beautifully infusing them with your divine scent and refined flavour and Jisung would steal them in the morning to soil them at night. That was his perfect routine. He doesn't know why you’re keeping your dirty PJ’s in your room now, not putting them in the basket every morning like you used to. 

But tonight he decides it’s too much, it’s been weeks he hasn’t been able to take a good whiff of your scent and he decides he’s just going to get the clothes directly from your bedroom. Before he has the chance to chicken out he slips on his shorts back and heads to your room.

He almost levitates in the hall. He feels a light warm breeze on his bare chest as he tiptoes to your room. 

Thankfully your door is pressed shut not locked he doesn't even have to push on the creaking handle just lightly push in the door. But his heart stops when he spots you.

You are sound asleep, the city lights seeping from your open window, the light summer wind gently blowing on your heated and soft skin. Your breath quietly whistles as the air slither in and out of your lips between your teeth. Your hair beautifully spilled onto the pillow. You are absolutely breathtaking and also completely nude.

Jisung hears his heart beat in his ears, the accelerated blood flow drilling in his eardrums, making his chest heave up and down silently, sucking in one shaky breath after the other.

He only wanted to swipe a top and maybe a pair of panties from you he never ever even dared to hope to find you like this. Spread on your bed in all your glory. Never has he had the privilege to have such a view so he admired your body for long seconds, without a care for the discarded PJ’s next to your bed. Those were the last things on Jisung’s mind right now. 

He was only obsessed with you, with the way you breathed so calmly, with the way the light breeze made your perfect nipples harden, with the way your heavenly face seemed so peaceful, so tranquil with both your arms resting beside it as you laid on your back, your breast lightly spilling to your sides. Your beautiful legs extended in front of you. You looked fabricated, too perfect to be earthly. A piece of art, a masterpiece, a perfection only achievable by God themselves. 

Jisung swallowed thickly as he velvet traded to your bedside, entranced by your form. His eyes trailed down from your neck to your breasts to your stomach and even lower. What he wouldn’t give for you to spread your legs. Just a little so he could have a small peak at the object of his every thought. The secret and mysterious wonder he has been only able to imagine for this past year. If only you could just move, just a little bit.

Squeeeeek

One of the boards of the wooden floor creaked as Jisung stepped on it. He froze in his tracks, catching his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows knitting on his forehead. He stayed completely still and held his breath, his eyes instantly snapping back to your face. And he prayed, he prayed so piously in silence that you wouldn’t wake up to see him hunched over you like a creep.

And his prayers were answered. You didn’t wake up, instead you just lightly squirmed and parted your thighs.

Jisung’s jaw dropped to the floor as his eyes fell lower on your frame again, only this time it was right on your center. The brunette couldn’t believe his eyes he couldn’t process. You were absolutely beautiful. Every inch of you, from head to toe, was perfection and he couldn’t help but to stare you down right between the legs. 

But the uncomfortable feeling of his shorts restricting his hard on brought him back. There was no way he could just swipe the PJ’s now and go back. He couldn’t do it, whatever it was that he was trying to do in his room and failing miserably he had to do right here, right now. Why would he go back and imagine you when he could simply look at you?

With a shaky breath and trembling hands he whipped his painfully hard cock out. He didn’t even bother tugging down the shorts, only passing the member through one of the legs of the shorts. 

He grabbed his dick at the base firmly and slowly pulled his closed fist up to his tip, pressing the precum out of the slit.

Fuckkkk

He wanted to say this outloud but he possibly couldn’t. He couldn't risk waking you up.

A large bead of precum rolled out of his slit and down his shaft which he caught between his fingers, picking up the pace.

He wanted to go slower; he wanted to take his time looking at you and milking himself for you. But he couldn’t. He was too riled up, looking at you peacefully sleeping, unsuspecting of what he was doing right over you. The adrenaline pumped through his veins as his fist did around his hard cock. 

Jisung accelerated again, eyebrows meeting on his forehead as he felt himself inching closer to his release, he let out a barely audible grunt and immediately his eyes snapped up to your face which was still tranquil. He didn’t stop jacking himself off, soon the slick noises of his precum coated dick erupted but he couldn’t stop and you were so profoundly asleep that you seem like you didn’t notice the agitation around you.

Jisung felt himself twitch in his hand; he was so close. So close for you. 

Y/n, I’m cumming for you

Jisung screamed in his mind only moments before he crossed the edge, his upper body shuddering from ecstasy as he tensed his thighs, big spurts of thick white cum squirting from his pulsing and throbbing cock as he let his jaw hang loose. Thick ropes of hot cum crashing all over your stomach, thighs and even between your parted legs lazily dripping over your folds.

He was so entranced by your nude body layed and spreaded out for him to see that he didn’t think about the mess he would create if he let himself go right here but it was too late now and the mess was done. 

He fished out his phone from the pocket of his shorts. If he was already deep in it he might as well take a souvenir. He checked approximately two hundred times that his phone was on mute and that he didn’t have the flash on before snapping a few pictures of this breathtaking scene. Your body as his canvas and his warm cum as the art. 

Jisung started to panic when you started to squirm again, stuffing the phone back in his pocket, he looked over the room in a hurry maybe hoping to find a rag of sorts but there was nothing and he just stood there with his lip between his teeth once again praying that he didn't wake you. But fortunately you settled down again.

So that's when he had the craziest but possibly most brilliant idea he’s ever had. The only way to thoroughly leave your room without leaving clues was to eat his own cum off you. 

He thought about it for a second. If he used one of your clothes hanging on your chair, you would certainly notice the white stains later when you were going to do your laundry. If he took back the piece of clothing and washed it himself you would also notice your shirt disappear and magically reappear clean and folded…

So with this reasoning he kneeled on the floor at the edge of the bed and stuck his tongue out, inching closer to your stomach. He laid his tongue flat and swiped it across your burning skin, he scooped the thick and sticky cum right into his mouth. The strong bitter and salty taste took over his tastebuds. He then went down to clean his mess on your thighs and finally to your center.

He swiped his tongue across your folds. Much to his surprise -and contentment- he tasted something else blending with his own taste. 

You.

He looked back for a second to notice the slight glimmering of your slick barely peaking between your folds. Jisung couldn't hold back from bringing his nose to your center, taking a big whiff of you. 

So that’s what sex with you would smell like. He carefully licked again. That's how it would taste like. Both of your flavours and scents beautifully mixing to result in this intoxicating cocktail that was making Jisung’s head spin.

The addicting flavour spread through his mind like wildfire setting his soul ablaze. He licked again, this time a little less gentle and right on your clit.

And he froze when you let out a barely audible, very quiet little moan. Jisung felt his skin crawl back onto his flesh, the hairs of his forearms standing. He looked at you again, you were still sound asleep.

Was it possible that somehow you were feeling him between your thighs while you were still dreaming. Jisung didn’t know. The only thing that was certain to him was that he needed more of you. He licked again and he was rewarded by another moan followed by the brief mention of a word. A word he heard a thousand times hanging from your sweet lips. A word so mundanely banal. His name.

His name slipped out of your pretty mouth to crash onto him, hitting him right in the chest. His name said so perfectly.

“Jisung…aaah” you moaned softly, almost whimpering.

He froze again and carefully peeled his eyes off your center to look at your face. But you appeared to be still sleeping. So it meant you were dreaming of him. Your body felt good and your mind chose him to explain this feeling. 

He couldn’t take it anymore he started to swirl his tongue around your clit. Everything was just too much. Your divine nude form layed on the bed, your smell, your taste and now your voice moaning his name.

Jisung didn't want this to ever stop. He started to move his tongue rapidly around your now swollen little bundle of nerves as he jerked off his cock again with both his hands. Rutting inside his fists like a street dog in heat as he feasted on your taste, lapping at your entrance and plunging his tongue inside of you to swipe his tongue back up to your swollen clit, sucking around the erected nub until you were breathless, pearls of sweat rolling on your forehead. 

Jisung felt you throb on his tongue and suddenly your body tenses up, your head thrown back and you squirted all over his open and welcoming mouth. He relished on your cum, swallowing your release in big gulps as he made himself cum again with you, careful to only spill his seed in his hand this time around. Mind numbing euphoria coursing through his body from his lower stomach. He gently guided you through your orgasm, softly lapping at your throbbing clit until your body went limp.

***

Jisung started eating breakfast before you this morning. He couldn't help but smirk when you emerged from the hall with small groggy eyes.

“Hey sleepy head!” he greeted you with this signature adorable smile, his fluffy cheeks rising like bread dough. You responded by a sleepy groan.

“Actually I think I dreamt of you” You frowned trying to recall the blurry memories of the dream…

Jisung’s wholesome smile turned into a sly smirk as he attempted to hide it in his cereal bowl.

“Oh really?”

IF YOU ENJOYED DONT FORGET TO REBLOG 🖤

a/n: sooo how was it????? did you like it??? my first han fic and it broke me tbh. like im sucker for perv han i just love him okay? this blog is the official perv han lover support group <3

skz masterlist | navigation