#and I did mean it? I did have an interest on getting to know this person?
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leiflitter · 2 days ago
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Been thinking about this recently, and I think it boils down to fanworks being classified as 'content' rather than a genuine expression of feeling.
Now, there absolutely are people out there who don't necessarily create for the love of whatever media they're creating art for, but I'm talking about creators who are both engaged in and contributing to fandom by creating fanworks.
When these creators write and publish a fic, the underlying intent is to connect with others. To share their ideas and perspectives on whatever it is they love, in the hope that someone else out there will read their work and go, "Yes! Me too!" or, "I never thought of it that way, but this has given me new ideas about that character, wow!"
However, seeing a fic as 'content' removes that potential to connect with others. It's something created to be consumed rather than an outstretched hand.
Something I've seen a lot is people being nervous to interact with fic writers who've written things they love because they've put the writers up on a pedestal... And then they're devastated when the writers fade from the fandom or stop writing or remove their works due to a perceived lack of interest. "But that was my comfort fic, it meant so much to me..."
Yes. I don't doubt it did. But it probably meant even more to the author who spent their time creating it, which mean it hurts them even more when they put it out into the world and get nothing back. I have made some amazing friends through writing fic, because those people have all approached me to tell me what my writing means to them... And I've been ecstatic that something I've made has found a home in other people's hearts. I found the connections I was looking for, but plenty of people will never get that because their readers have decided that whatever fic writer is somehow "more important" than them and are therefore unapproachable and scary. Some will even discuss fic privately, but never let the author know...
If someone makes something that you love, leave a comment! It doesn't need to be big. It doesn't need to be eloquent. "Thank you for writing this, I love it." is more than enough. Let the writers you love know that the effort they've put in wasn't a waste, that their outpouring has been seen and is appreciated.
And if you're lucky, then you might get sent little snippets of future chapters or get infodumped to. Win-win, yeah?
You know what’s really disturbing to me? The culture that seems to have sprung up around fanfiction. Writers spend weeks and months working on a story – I think my record is six months on A Place For Us To Dream. And so many times readers expect to just be given a chapter even if they don’t give anything to the writer in return.
I’m going to date myself a bit here, but I’ve been reading/writing fanfiction for ten years. And when I first started it was a wonderful community. There was an unspoken rule – if you read/enjoyed it, you review it. You take thirty seconds to tell an author who probably spent anywhere from three days to a week writing that chapter you just enjoyed to tell them you enjoyed it. Even if it was as simple as “Great chapter, can’t wait to see what happens next!”
Writers spend so much time on stories, and then they post it because they have this thing that they’ve invested so many hours into and they want to share it with the world. They know how they feel about the story, and they want to know how other people feel, what other people think.
And when you read it and don’t review, you know what message you’re sending that author? That they’re not worth your time, or you didn’t enjoy their story. So why should they keep posting it? Yeah they might continue working on it in their own time, for their own enjoyment, but you might never see another chapter again because you couldn’t be bothered to take thirty seconds out of your day to tell them how you feel.
I’ve written stories in eight different fandoms, ranging from very small to very big (I’ll openly admit I wrote Twilight fanfiction once. Once. It was an Alice/Jasper story and haters can hate all they want but I’m still proud of it). I took a break for a few years because I fell out of fandoms during college, and when I came back apparently it’d become the norm to just greedily consume writing without telling writers how you feel. And that is one of the saddest things in the world to me because fanfiction is where I really started getting serious about writing. It’s how I’ve honed by skills and become the writer I am today. And that was largely in part because of all the support I got when I was an itty-bitty thirteen-year-old writing crappy W.I.T.C.H. fanfiction.
Everyone keeps saying “reviews don’t matter, you should just write for yourself.” Well, you’re wrong. Reviews make or break fanfiction. Reviews tell writers whether it’s worth their time to continue posting that story online or whether they should keep it on their hard drives and never share it with the world.
Kill the attitude that reviews don’t matter. Start telling writers you like their stories. And if you don’t, if you all just continue to be invisible readers? Don’t be surprised when that writer disappears.
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enhaflixer · 2 days ago
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reaction: when they’re pissed off (in a cute way) with you on Valentine’s Day
cw: skinship, upset enha, kissing, explicit mentions wc: 1.7K TL: @naurwayyyyy @ziiao @somuchdard AN: LMAO REPOST CUZ ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE LAST ONE
𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠
"I’m not mad."
Heeseung has said this at least seven times now.
And yet, he hasn’t looked at you properly all evening, has been scrolling aggressively on his phone, and is eating his food like it personally offended him.
"Baby, you sure about that?" you ask, watching him.
"Yep."
"Then why are you stabbing your steak like it’s my fault?"
"I always eat like this." He shrugs, looking down at his plate with a blank expression, before adding, "Totally normal. No problems here."
You roll your eyes. "Okay, then why have you barely spoken to me?"
"I’m just thinking," he says vaguely, taking a sip of his drink like he’s in a drama about betrayal.
You squint at him. "Hee. Just say it."
Heeseung finally exhales, setting his fork down. "Fine. I just think it’s interesting that I planned this entire Valentine’s surprise, wrote you a whole letter, and took you out to this fancy place—but you didn’t write me anything."
You pause. "Oh."
"Yeah. Oh." He takes another dramatic sip.
You reach for his hand. "Baby, I can write you a letter right now—"
"Nope. Too late. The damage has been done." He leans back, closing his eyes like he’s processing deep betrayal.
You laugh, sliding into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Will a thousand kisses make up for it?"
He pretends to think about it. "Hmmm… I guess I can be persuaded."
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠
Jay had a vision. A Pinterest-worthy, cinematic romance kind of vision.
And you? You ruined it.
"Wait." He blinks at you, utterly betrayed. "Where’s my Valentine’s Day gift?"
You freeze.
"Jay—"
"Oh my God, you forgot."
You panic. "No! I mean… yes. But! But I have something planned—"
"Mmm. Sounds fake."
He leans back, crossing his arms, lips pursed in the most dramatic pout.
"I got you roses and your favorite chocolate. I even wrote a handwritten letter. Meanwhile, my thoughtful, loving, caring fiancé—"
"Okay, okay!" You grab his hands, laughing. "I’ll make it up to you."
He tilts his head, eyeing you suspiciously. "You sure? Because this was a pretty deep wound. Might take a while to heal."
You bite your lip, stepping closer. "I’ll do anything, baby."
His jaw tightens slightly at that, his hands twitching at his sides.
"Anything?" he murmurs.
You nod, brushing your fingers along his collar.
Jay exhales sharply, then grabs your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips graze your ear as he whispers,
"Good. Because I plan to collect that apology. All. Night. Long."
𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧
"I’m so mad at you right now."
You barely step inside before Jake is grabbing your waist, pinning you against the door, and glaring at you like you just personally ruined his life.
You blink up at him, confused. "What did I do now?"
He lets out the most tragic sigh you’ve ever heard. "Oh, I don’t know, babe. Maybe just COMPLETELY neglectING ME on Valentine’s Day??"
You squint. "Jake, we literally spent the entire day together."
"EXACTLY!" he exclaims, gesturing wildly. "We were together ALL DAY and somehow, SOMEWAY, I have not been dicked down once. Not once. Do you understand how that makes a man feel?"
You stare. "Jake—"
"No, no, let me finish." He steps back, running a frustrated hand through his hair like he’s on the verge of a breakdown. "I have spent the last twelve hours waiting, hoping, praying, manifesting some kind of fucking physical affection from my own girlfriend, and what do I get? A pat on the back. A little forehead kiss. What am I, a fucking toddler??"
You burst out laughing. "Baby, you’re being dramatic."
"Dramatic? DRAMATIC?" He grabs your wrist, pulling you flush against him. "Babe. My dick is in distress. It’s been in distress ALL. FUCKING. DAY."
You snort. "You poor thing."
"YES, actually!" He grabs your hand, placing it over his chest. "Feel that? That’s a broken heart. A heart that thought tonight was gonna be different. A heart that thought you were gonna throw me on the bed the second we got home. A heart that—"
You kiss him, effectively shutting him up.
He pauses for half a second before immediately kissing you back, his hands gripping your waist like he’s making sure you don’t escape.
You pull away, smirking. "Better?"
"Mmm." He tilts his head, looking you up and down. "I mean… it’s a start. But, babe—" he leans in, voice dropping— "I'm gonna need a lot more before I forgive you."
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧
Sunghoon isn’t mad.
At least, he tells himself he’s not mad.
But he is currently sitting on the couch, arms crossed, jaw clenched, scrolling aggressively on his phone like someone who is very much mad.
And you have no idea why.
"Hoon." You nudge him. No response.
"Babe, what’s wrong?"
"Nothing."
You narrow your eyes. "That’s a lie."
He finally exhales sharply. "You didn’t wish me at 12:00 AM."
You blink. "Wait. What?"
"It’s fine," he says, standing up, walking away. "Just thought my own girlfriend would wish me at midnight first, but nope. Jay texted me before you did. Even my mom beat you to it."
You burst out laughing. "Hoon, we were asleep at midnight."
"You could’ve set an alarm," he mutters.
You chase after him, grabbing his wrist. "Hoon, baby—"
"Nope. Don’t ‘baby’ me now."
Then, suddenly—he grabs your waist, spins you around, and backs you into the nearest wall.
Your breath catches.
His eyes flicker down to your lips. "You wanna make it up to me?"
You swallow. "Yes."
His fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your chin up. "Good."
Then he kisses you—hard, deep, devastating.
And when he finally pulls away, he smirks.
"You should make mistakes like this more often."
𝐊𝐢�� 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨
Sunoo is dramatically sprawled across the bed, one hand over his forehead like some tragic K-drama lead.
"Sunoo, baby, what’s wrong?" you ask, sitting beside him.
"Oh, nothing." His voice is eerily calm. "Just thought I was going to be wined and dined. Taken somewhere extravagant. Pampered like the prince that I am."
You stifle a laugh. "Baby, we had a really nice dinner—"
*"IT WAS A CAFE." He sits up, glaring at you. "You took me to a CAFE."
You bite your lip. "But it was a Paris-inspired one…?"
"WHERE WERE THE CANDLELIGHTS? THE VIOLINS?"
You sigh, pulling him into your arms, stroking his hair. "I’ll take you somewhere fancy this weekend, okay?"
He sniffs. "And buy me dessert?"
"Anything you want, baby."
"And feed it to me?"
"Yes, Sunoo."
"And post me on Instagram?"
"Sunoo—"
He squints. "Do you love me or not?"
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠��𝐨𝐧
Jungwon isn’t just mad—he’s mad and confused.
And that’s a dangerous combination.
You realize something is wrong when he suddenly stops replying properly to your texts. Then, when you finally meet up for dinner, he just stares at you blankly, arms crossed, jaw tight, looking equal parts irritated and baffled.
"What’s wrong?" you ask, frowning as you sit across from him.
"I don’t know," he says.
You pause. "You don’t know?"
"Nope." He picks up his drink, takes a slow sip while keeping eye contact, then sets it down carefully. "Because if I knew, then I would at least understand why my girlfriend—who, mind you, is supposed to love me—decided to completely ignore me all morning on Valentine’s Day."
Your eyes widen. "Wait—"
"No, no. Please." He holds up a hand, silencing you. "Let me finish."
You press your lips together.
"Do you know who texted me first?" he asks, tilting his head.
"Um—"
"SUNOO." He sits back, folding his arms. "Sunoo texted me first. With a big, pink heart emoji and everything. But my own girlfriend? Nothing. Silence. Like I was just another irrelevant man walking this earth."
You stifle a laugh. "Jungwon—"
"No, because seriously!" He leans forward, exasperated. "Did you hit your head this morning? Did your phone break? Did you forget I existed?"
You grab his hands across the table, laughing. "Baby, I was literally asleep."
"Set an alarm next time," he grumbles.
You kiss his knuckles softly. "I’ll text you first every day for the rest of the week. Deal?"
He sighs, pretending to think about it. "Fine. But I expect dramatic good morning messages. And at least three heart emojis."
𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐤𝐢
Riki has been staring at you.
Not in a cute, "I’m so in love" way. Not in a "Wow, my girlfriend is so pretty" way.
No. This is straight-up judgment.
"Riki," you say cautiously, side-eyeing him as he sits across from you, arms folded, jaw tight. "Are you good?"
He lets out the most condescending scoff. "Me? Oh, yeah. I’m GREAT."
You pause. "…Okay?"
"Yeah. No, I was just sitting here, thinking about how interesting it is that I’ve gone all fucking day without so much as a kiss on the cheek from my own girlfriend. But it’s fine. Really. I love being treated like some random side character in your life."
Your eyebrow twitches. "Riki, we’ve literally been together all day."
"EXACTLY." He throws his hands up, glaring. "And somehow, SOMEWAY, you’ve managed to avoid kissing me like I have a fucking disease."
You stifle a laugh. "Baby, we were literally in public the whole time—"
"Bullshit," he interrupts. *"You had time to fix your hair. You had time to take cute pictures. But you didn’t have time to kiss your incredibly hot, incredibly kissable boyfriend?"
You roll your eyes. "I think you’ll survive."
Riki narrows his eyes. "Oh. That’s how we’re playing it?"
Before you can react, he grabs your wrist, yanking you forward so suddenly that you stumble into his lap, your hands bracing against his chest.
Your eyes widen. "Riki—"
"Shh." He leans in, nose brushing yours, voice low and taunting. "You had your chance. Now it’s my turn."
Your breath catches as his fingers dig into your waist, holding you in place.
"You’re gonna make this up to me, babe," he murmurs, his lips ghosting over yours, teasing, torturing. "And I’m not letting you go until I feel properly appreciated."
TAGLIST: OPEN!!!! LMK WHAT YOU THINK PLS
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dduane · 1 day ago
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Oh, just in passing: a couple of SPOCK'S WORLD notes
(from @magicalgirlcrazycatlady:
!!!!!!! AUDIOBOOK SPOCK'S WORLD!!!! EXISTS? READ BY THOSE TWO?????????
Yep. If you go over to, say, Ebay, you can usually find somebody selling the audiobook on cassette (and if you're very lucky, on CD).
It hasn't been reissued in decades, and I can't really be sure why. It may be that there are union-based (meaning SAG[-AFTRA]) issues with the way Nimoy and Takei were compensated for the original performances; so that if the audiobook was reissued in more modern media, the publisher would have to deal with the way union rules for such performances have changed. (Which might run into serious money.)
In any case, it's a shame it's not more readily available. Both of the gentlemen involved did a fabulous job. I've had the pleasure of telling George so, and I'm sad not to have been able to tell Nimoy the same. (sigh) Anyway, it was a pleasure and a privilege to be involved in the endeavor.
...Also, per @rightspocko:
#oh my god you did that in 2 weeks#and you rewrote it so quickly and it’s still superb!#i never would’ve guessed because it’s so well structured and well written
The rewrite went as well as it did (and frankly as well as it could have done, under the circumstances) because before I ever started work on that book, I'd written a comprehensive outline.
It's not widely understood, I think, that when you're writing for a big IP owner / licensor, it is impossible to sell them a new project without first writing an outline that makes plain what it'll contain. Pantsing—however much some writers may enjoy that mode of novel writing, however much some may feel it to be the superior mode—has no place in the licensed-universe sales process. No licensor is going to even agree in principle with your agent that you're going to be brought in to do an original novel, let alone write the contract to back up their intent, until you've submitted an outline that tells Corporate in considerable detail what they (and their stockholders) are going to be getting for their money.
In the case of Spock's World, this rule went double, perhaps triple—regardless of the success of my previous work for Trek and Pocket. Spock's World was going to be their very first ever hardcover Star Trek novel. The whole project was a gamble... and the corporate Powers that Be therefore needed to know exactly what I was going to be giving them. So I did what I usually do for a book of the projected length—an outline somewhere in the neighborhood of 20-25 single-spaced pages. (ETA: For the hell of it, I just spent half an hour or so digging around for it, and [at the virtual "bottom" of a storage hard drive] found the ancient .arc file in which it'd been packed away. The outline is dated March 3rd, 1988, and comes to about 22 single-spaced pages. ...Call it 8K words and change.)
The outline, as always, was the "road map" I'd drawn for where I was going, to avoid wasting time in possibly getting lost along the way. All the structural work and serious plotting was already complete in the outline... ready to have the prose racked up in it, as a bookshelf's built ready to house its books.
And that's why the result, despite the near-disaster, still looks okay. All I had to do* was write again what "lost material" I'd already written, with the outline to guide me, or prompt me, where my memory failed. To this day I feel strongly that the book was significantly better because of that second write-through, however enforced. So this whole process turned into kind of a blessing in disguise (despite my poor lower back's more or less constant screams of protest).
That outline was what saved my butt... as others would, in years to come, further down the line. Those interested in having their own butts saved when necessary, and their writing life generally made less stressy, can look over here and see the outlining "blueprint" I use. C. J. Cherryh put me onto it; and what Carolyn doesn't know about writing a well- and tightly-plotted SF novel, seriously doesn't matter.
...And now I'm going to go make some spaghetti sauce. :)
*"All I had to do." CAN I EVEN HEAR MYSELF. (helpless laughter) It was like climbing hand over hand out of hell. But at least I could always see the light at the top of the tunnel...
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yoongihan · 2 days ago
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I keep trying to figure out what I want to say about this series, why I go back to reread it (sometimes just parts, sometimes the whole thing). It's probably a bit odd to say that this is a comfort fic in the sense that it's primarily about sex and intimacy and a polyamorous relationship and that's not usually what I'd list as comfort fic traits for myself.
There's this growing aspect of young(ish) readers, the newer generation one may say, especially here on tumblr/ao3 for fanfic. I once got an ask that was offended I hadn't put y/n was taller than changbin in the 'warnings' (it's really not that hard to be taller than that man, mmmkay?) and that this person couldn't enjoy my story because it was for the 'tall girls'. Because it didn't exactly meet this person's physical traits, the fic wasn't interesting to this reader.
Now, I love the inclusivity of y/n, how people write her (or they depending) in such a way as to include all races, body types, etc. I think that's such a cool thing about where fanfic is.
However, personally, I don't really see myself in most if not all y/ns, for a variety of reasons, some are more shallow/surface-level; some are personality (thank goodness when y/n has a personality), or preferences. The only thing I have in common with this y/n is I would also be noona to 3racha (we will not talk about that age gap).
I do not have preferences like hers, or even personality traits like hers (her distaste for being emotional for example, i just let myself go there). I only know what a femdom is from reading fanfic, I would probably never participate in a polyamorous relationship. Nothing about this y/n jives with me.
BUT IT'S SUCH A DAMN GOOD STORY!!!!
It doesn't matter that I don't closely relate to her. I recognize the universal struggle to trust, to be vulnerable, to care for someone and question if it's returned. I adore how each of 3racha is characterized in this. I both get angry at and feel pity for Chan. Changbin is a dreamboat in this, rich af and beyond caring.
And the scene that sticks, like permanently. When y/n goes to sit in Jisung's lap, just to be held. He holds her there, tracing patterns on her back for eternity in my mind. It is the softest thing and a moment that loops in my brain.
I love this story. I love the growth of chan and y/n, especially. I love the openness the characters discuss and have consensual sex. I love the nct side characters, among other kpop idols who pop in. I love that the ending is such that I'm hopeful for everyone involved.
(did i mention I love jisung in this one? yes? no? i do. love him so).
so, apologies for the random tangent about readership, but when i think of this story, the fact that I am not this y/n tells me that a good story doesn't mean I self-insert. It means good characters, compelling arcs, and something to say.
bravo, becca. it's just so masterful.
more & more series masterlist~
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     more & more (mature) 2.6k ║ femdom!reader x 3RACHA
Three handsome and popular guys, versus little old you. No contest, right?
     play you on repeat (explicit) 11.8k ║ femdom!reader x 3RACHA
You really want to get started. You have three beautiful men here to play with.
     on the outside (explicit) 9.4k ║ f reader x 3RACHA
“What if I don’t want to play by your rules?” “Then we don’t have to play.” 
     without a word (explicit) 9.8k ║ f reader x 3RACHA (Jisung focus)
“You can’t run away forever.”  “Yes, I can. I’m good at it. I’m doing it right now.”
     in the rain (explicit) 9.7k ║ f reader x 3RACHA (Changbin focus)
“It wasn’t a big deal.” “Sometimes little things hurt a lot. Papercuts. Stubbed toes. People who you trust treating you badly, even if they don’t mean it.”
     wishing you would  (mature) 8.6k ║ f reader x 3RACHA
It seemed like he really liked you. There’s so much to say. You can’t say any of it.
     again & again (explicit) 11k ║ f reader x 3RACHA
And when he opens his eyes and looks lazily down the bed at you, this feels like something you could do again and again.
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greenwitchfromthewoods · 13 hours ago
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stable. l Joel Miller
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Summary: you won't admit what you feel
Warnings: smut (+18) and fluff, but also a little bit of angst ; Ellie appears there; reader feels insecure, mention of pregnancy
A/N: special thanks to @underneath-the-sky-again . thank you for your patience and support, sweetie
your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
short stories from life. [masterlist]
"I don't like it. I really don't like it."
You looked away from Ellie, who was trying on a pair of new clothes, and looked towards Ann. For a few minutes she had been standing in front of the shop window, staring at something on the other side of the street, munching on dried apple slices every now and then.
Ellie needed new clothes, so you went to a place in Jackson where you could trade old and good clothes for new ones. You met Ann on the way and she thought she could see if she could find something for the baby she and Shane were expecting. Meanwhile, she was completely uninterested in clothes for a few minutes.
"What do you mean?" you asked, approaching her and glancing over her shoulder with interest. You understood immediately. "Oh."
"Oh." Ann parroted after you, at which point Hazel's hand squeezed Joel's shoulder and she burst out laughing charmingly. "Hazel really does have a thing for Joel. Maybe she doesn't know that you and he..."
"She recently brought a cake that she made as a thank you to Joel for helping her with some repairs at her house. I opened the door for her."
"And?"
"She asked if I could call him over so she could give it to him personally."
Ann looked at you pointedly. Shane must have told her about the whole situation, but she had noticed it herself as well.
"And what about Joel? Have you talked to him?" she huffed as you rolled your eyes. "What's that supposed to mean? You're together, right? If this situation makes you uncomfortable..."
"It's not like that." You mumbled. "I know Joel. He's loyal and I know he wouldn't do anything to hurt me on purpose. Those are my insecurities." Ann frowned. "What? She's beautiful."
"You too!" she shook her head and sighed "You should do something about it. I know Joel would never... But look how you feel. He's your rock, don't let some chick..."
"Should I put a dead rat on her doormat?"
You and Ann jumped at the sound of Ellie's voice, which you didn't expect at all. The girl fixed her eyes on Joel and Hazel, a sly smile on her face.
"Don't even think about it!" you scolded her and lightly slapped her on the shoulder.
"Why?" Ann laughed, "That's a good idea."
"Don't give her solutions like that." you chuckled "Grown-ups solve problems like that differently."
"I can find a rat like that in an hour." Ellie butted in.
"Oh, and you're acting like an adult?" Ann pointed out your words "You don't tell him how you feel, and it's eating you up inside."
"It's not like that..." you groaned.
"So what about the rat?"
"Ellie, please!" you hissed. "No rats. Let's end this pointless conversation. Did you find what you were looking for?" Ellie showed the pair of clothes in her arms. "Great! We're going home, I promised to help Joel with the stables."
You left the store before either of them could say anything else.
"Will you tell me what's going on?"
"Oh, nothing."
"I can see that." Joel was leaning against the entrance to the stall and watching you brush one of the horses. "Something's bothering you."
You gave him a quick look, he knew it perfectly. He was slowly getting to the point that was unpleasant for you. Since Shane's wedding, you seemed to have something to worry about, even though you tried to hide it. But Joel knew you all too well.
"Is it about Ellie?" he said casually.
"No." You answered without even looking at him.
"So about Tommy?" No. "Maria. Ann. Shane." No, no, no. "Did I do something wrong?" No. "Hazel?"
He must have hit the nail on the head, because you frowned and gave him a nervous look. He really shouldn't have been surprised. Hazel had been around you quite often lately, and although Joel didn't treat her in a special way, he guessed that you might have felt uneasy.
He wasn't blind. He remembered your uncertain expression at the wedding when your dress got stained with juice, or when Hazel visited your house and completely ignored you.
Joel, however, thought that what he felt for you was obvious. Apparently he was wrong. He sighed quietly and entered the booth.
"You know she only wants me to help her, right?" he asked.
You snorted something incomprehensible, he smiled under his breath.
"Sweetie, talk to me. I prefer when things are clear between us."
You put the brush on the shelf and wiped your hands on a cloth.
"I don't like her." you mumbled. "I don't know why... No! I know. I don't like the way she looks at you."
"And how does she look?"
You frowned. "You know perfectly well how she looks at you." His smile only made your blood pressure rise. "Oh, you're awful!"
You threw a rag at him and quickly left the stall. You didn't get far, though, because after a moment Joel's arm wrapped around your waist.
"You know you're really sexy when you're jealous of me?" His voice sounded right next to your ear as he pressed you closer to him.
"I'm not jealous at all!" You growled.
"You are, babe." He pulled you towards the empty stall where you kept the haystacks. "And this is adorable."
He turned you to face him. His dark eyes were fixed on you, and a smile was playing on his lips. If it weren't for the fact that he was teasing you so much at that moment, you could have admitted he was right. His arms held you tightly.
"Let me go, someone might come in here." you said, trying to free yourself from his grip.
"There's no one here but us. It's late." His face came closer to yours, warm breath fanning over your cheek. "Admit it, darling."
"No. I won't boost your ego, Joel."
His lips brushed your neck, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. All the emotions that were swirling inside you were slowly starting to calm down. That's how he affected you.
"Admit it." he whispered again.
"No. Besides..." you took a deep breath. "You stink, Joel."
He chuckled. "You do too, darling." you patted his shoulder, but you couldn't hide your smile. "So? You know that only you matter to me. What we have is big, and I wouldn't give it up for anything in the world."
"Are you sure?"
He looked at you with incredible seriousness. Everything that was unspoken hung between you. A warm hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushed your lower lip.
"You're my whole life, babe. My everything." he said, and you felt that he really meant it.
"I love you." you replied almost in a whisper, and he smiled gently.
"I know."
And before you could say anything more, he kissed you, tenderly and with feeling. In one kiss, there was everything that neither of you said, but felt. You tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss and completely surrendered to the moment. 
Suddenly, you felt a haystack behind you and after a moment you were lying on it. Joel's hands slid under your shirt, wandering over your heated body. He kissed your jaw, your neck and went lower. The colossal hand squeezed your breast, and you felt the excitement growing in your belly.
"Damn, Joel..." you whispered "Someone might find us here."
"I don't care." he replied and started to unbutton your pants "I want you. Now."
The last rational thoughts flew out of your head. You hastily unbuckled his belt, the bulge in his jeans was very visible and as soon as you slid them down his manhood appeared in front of you in all its glory. Joel wanted to take off your pants, but he only managed to do it with one leg.
"Leave it." you hurried him and pulled him to you, kissing him deeply. "Yes, I was jealous. So fucking jealous of you."
"I knew it." he smiled, his fingers sliding over your folds. "But I'm only yours. Remember."
You nodded, then sighed as he slid inside you with one hard thrust. No matter how many times you made love with Joel, this moment always took your breath away. Your body accepted him willingly, and your legs knew exactly how to wrap around his hips to make him go even deeper.
"Fuck." Joel moaned right into your ear. "You're amazing, fucking amazing." 
You didn't answer. You couldn't. His movements were fast, strong, and violent. As if he wanted to show you that all he wanted was you and no one else in the world mattered.
Your fingers tightened on his shoulders, the silence filled only with your quick breaths, the sounds of skin slapping against skin. A strong hand grabbed your butt and lifted your hips a little, a sweet moan escaped your throat. The new angle made Joel roll exactly where you needed him.
"Only you... Only you, baby..." he whispered in your ear with ragged breaths, and you believed every word he said.
And when you left the stable together, even the rain that was falling didn't bother you then. Your clothes got soaked through, but you didn't care. The hand that held you was your anchor, your safe haven. Whatever happened to you, you knew you would overcome it together. You were his, Joel was yours. It just had to be that way.
"What's so funny to you?" Ellie mumbled, who was curled up on the couch and looked up from her comic book in surprise.
"It's raining." Joel replied, taking off his wet jacket.
"And?" the girl raised her eyebrows "You hate the rain. Damn! You're getting weird in your old age." Her gaze shifted to you, you were trying to take off your wet shoes and not fall over "Do you have hay in your hair?"
☆☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name
157 notes · View notes
heeluvv · 2 days ago
Note
sunoo showing his members that he’s not just a subby boy .. 💭
lowkey didn’t know how i wanted to play this out but i did it this way and im not mad at it so i hope you like it bb
𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐘 *ੈ𑁍༘⋆
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pairing 〢bsf/close friend! kim sunoo x reader
genre 〢smut
warnings 〢pussy eating, unprotected sex, fingering, soft!dom sunoo, teasing, etc.
natty’s notes 〢mdni, hate comments will be deleted.
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the room buzzed with laughter, the warm glow of the living room lights casting a cozy atmosphere over your small gathering. the idea of going out had been quickly shut down by your friends, who whined about the hassle and convinced you to just stay in. you didn’t mind—it was nice having them over, sprawled across your couch and floor, snacking on whatever was in your kitchen while exchanging playful banter. the energy was lighthearted, filled with inside jokes and teasing remarks that never failed to keep the mood alive.
amidst the usual chatter, a certain conversation piqued your interest—who among you was the most dominant? it started as a joke, with everyone throwing names into the mix, ranking each other based on their supposed presence and personality. unsurprisingly, sunoo kept ending up at the bottom of the list, a fact that only fueled the amusement of the group.
“you guys really think i’m not dominant enough?” sunoo scoffed, crossing his arms as he scanned everyone with a sharp gaze, his brows lifting in challenge.
“you just seem more like a submissive, sunoo,” you said casually, your voice laced with amusement as the others quickly nodded in agreement.
a brief silence followed before he clicked his tongue, an unreadable smirk playing on his lips. “you guys have no idea what you’re talking about,” he muttered, shaking his head.
the laughter only grew louder.
“i mean, we aren’t lying, sunoo. every time y/n gives you even the slightest compliment, you get so flustered,” jake teased, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned back against the couch. “only submissive like to be called good boy…”
his words sent a ripple of laughter through the group, their amusement only growing as sunoo’s expression shifted. but he wasn’t embarrassed, nor was he angry. no—he saw this as a challenge.
his posture straightened, and the playful glint in his eyes darkened into something more serious. “you want me to prove it to you all?” his voice was smooth, almost daring, his confidence oozing through the sudden change in demeanor.
the room fell into a brief silence, the shift in his energy palpable. your eyes widened at the sheer duality, the effortless way he transitioned from lighthearted banter to something almost intimidating. it sent an unexpected chill down your spine.
jungwon, breaking the silence, tilted his head curiously. “i mean… how exactly do you plan on doing that?”
he glanced at the others for backup, but instead of answering, they simply exchanged amused looks before turning their attention toward you.
your breath hitched. why were they looking at you?
it was no secret that you felt completely at ease around them. there was an unspoken comfort in their presence, a familiarity that blurred the lines of personal space. you had never been the type to overthink things—changing in front of them felt natural, effortless, something you never put much thought into. it wasn’t like you were trying to make a statement; it was just how things were.
when you were home alone, the idea of throwing on extra layers felt unnecessary. walking around in just an oversized shirt, barely caring whether you had pants on, was second nature. so when they showed up unannounced—something they did often—you never felt the need to scramble for modesty. they had seen you like this before, countless times, and it had never been an issue.
but there was something about those fleeting moments that felt different. you weren’t oblivious—you noticed the way their gazes lingered, the way conversations would momentarily stall when you stretched or adjusted your clothes absentmindedly. they never said anything, never crossed a boundary, yet there was an undeniable weight in the air whenever it happened.
you never initiated anything, and neither did they. it was a silent understanding, an unspoken game where the tension simmered just beneath the surface. yet, even when their eyes betrayed their thoughts, you simply carried on as you always did—pretending not to notice, even though you always did.
“what?”
the single word left your lips before you could stop it, your voice laced with confusion, yet there was something else lurking beneath it—curiosity. this had caught you completely off guard. they were actually trying to initiate something now, and all for the sake of proving a point.
but was that really all it was?
a part of you should have been skeptical, maybe even hesitant. yet, deep down, you didn’t mind. because as much as you were aware of their lingering stares—the way their eyes would subtly (or sometimes not so subtly) trace the shape of your body in moments like these—you were equally guilty. maybe you hadn’t realized it at first, or maybe you had and just pretended otherwise, but the truth was undeniable.
your own gaze had a habit of betraying you. the way your eyes fixated a little too long on their lips when they spoke, how your focus would drift to the veins on their hands as they flexed absentmindedly. and then there were the times they stayed over, disappearing into the bathroom only to reemerge, steam still clinging to their skin, towel slung dangerously low on their hips, droplets of water trailing down their bare torso.
you told yourself it was nothing, just fleeting glances, harmless observations. but they noticed. every single time.
you weren’t the only one watching.
“i think you know what, y/n…” sunoo’s voice was smooth, deliberate, as he leaned back against the couch. the confidence in his posture was undeniable—his legs spread wider, his hands resting lazily on his thighs, fingers drumming against the fabric as he studied you. his gaze held something unreadable, something daring. “but of course… only if you let me.”
your breath hitched, your mind racing with endless possibilities. was this a mistake? would this change everything between you all? would it create distance or pull you even closer? the weight of uncertainty pressed against your chest, but despite all the questions, there was one undeniable truth—you wanted to know.
it was reckless, maybe even dangerous, but you couldn’t help the way curiosity clawed at you, the way something deep inside you itched for the answer. was it wrong to entertain these thoughts? perhaps. but could you really fault yourself for being human?
and then there was sunoo himself. was he truly as submissive as everyone assumed? or was this his way of proving you all wrong?
your throat felt dry as you swallowed down the lingering hesitation, your heart hammering in anticipation.
“o-okay…” you whispered, barely recognizing your own voice.
you felt the shift instantly, a change so abrupt it sent a shiver down your spine. sunoo’s entire demeanor had shifted, his usual playful, almost teasing nature now replaced by something much more assertive—something that left you momentarily stunned. his gaze, once filled with amusement, was now sharp, unwavering, laced with an intensity you weren’t used to seeing from him.
“come here.”
his voice was steady, almost commanding, as he patted his lap, the simple gesture sending a wave of anticipation through you.
your breath hitched, hesitating for only a second before your body moved on its own. your legs carried you forward, and before you knew it, you were settling onto his lap, straddling him with a mix of hesitation and something far more dangerous—curiosity.
his hands found your hips effortlessly, fingers resting firmly yet not forcefully, grounding you in place. the heat of his touch seeped through the fabric of your clothes, sending a subtle thrill through your body. he wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pushing—just waiting, letting you feel the weight of the moment.
his eyes met yours, dark and unreadable, but his voice was softer this time. “you can always back out of this, y/n.”
it wasn’t a warning. it was a reassurance. a reminder that despite the shift, despite the unknown that lay ahead, you still held all the control.
“no, it’s fine…” you murmured, your voice steadier than you expected. your hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his shirt as you nodded, reaffirming your words. “i want to…”
those three words seemed to settle something deep within sunoo, dissolving whatever lingering hesitation he might have had. this wasn’t just about proving a point anymore—he wanted to know if you were truly comfortable with this, if you were letting him in willingly. and, if he was honest with himself, he wanted to do this in a way that wouldn’t just satisfy his need to prove something, but would also leave you wanting more.
his hands glided down slowly, palms warm as they traced the curve of your waist before settling against your thighs. his touch was firm but not demanding, the heat of his fingers seeping through the thin fabric, igniting something beneath your skin.
his dark eyes never left yours, a silent exchange passing between you both, more powerful than any words he could offer. he didn’t need to say anything—his gaze alone told you everything. a question, a reassurance, and something deeper, something unreadable but undeniably there.
one hand remained firm on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to make you hyperaware of his touch, while the other reached up, cradling the side of your face with a gentleness that sent a shiver down your spine. he guided you down effortlessly, his thumb grazing your cheek as he closed the space between you, his lips finally meeting yours.
the kiss started slow—steady and controlled, as if he was savoring the moment, testing the waters. his lips moved against yours with purpose, the pressure just right, his warmth enveloping you in a way that sent your mind reeling.
never in your life did you think this would happen. the thought alone felt almost surreal, the realization that you were kissing one of your closest friends sending a spark of disbelief through you. but any hesitation, any second-guessing, melted away the moment he deepened the kiss.
his grip on your thigh tightened slightly as his lips moved with more intensity, more certainty, pulling you in as if he refused to let you second-guess this moment. the soft, controlled movements gave way to something deeper, something more urgent, as if he wanted to prove himself with each press of his lips against yours.
and you let him.
because despite the initial shock, despite the blur of emotions crashing over you, there was one undeniable truth—you wanted this just as much as he did.
his lips wandered downward, leaving a burning trail along the sensitive skin of your neck. each kiss was deliberate, his movements slow yet calculated, as if he wanted you to feel every second of it. his lips parted slightly, the warmth of his breath fanning against your skin before he latched on, sucking gently at first before his teeth grazed over the spot, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body.
your breath hitched, fingers tightening against his shoulders, but he didn’t falter—not once. instead, his hands moved with purpose, fingers brushing against the hem of your shirt before he gripped it firmly, wasting no time in tugging it over your head. the fabric barely had a chance to hit the floor before you felt the weight of their stares.
there you sat, bare before them all—only your red lace panties keeping you somewhat covered. the cool air kissed your exposed skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body, the rush of vulnerability mixing with something far more intoxicating.
sunoo’s eyes darkened, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he took in the sight before him.
“fuck…” he muttered, his voice low, almost breathless.
the single word hung heavy in the air, thick with desire, with anticipation. and in that moment, you knew—this wasn’t just about proving a point anymore.
your hands instinctively move to cover yourself, a sudden wave of shyness washing over you under the weight of their heated stares. the intensity in their eyes—dark, unreadable, filled with something primal—makes your skin prickle with awareness.
but sunoo is quick to act.
his fingers wrap around your wrists before you can fully shield yourself, his grip firm yet gentle as he pulls your hands away. his gaze flickers up to meet yours, filled with something that makes your breath hitch.
“keep them down.”
his voice is steady, commanding, leaving no room for hesitation.
your fingers curl into the fabric of the couch, your pulse hammering in anticipation as his attention shifts downward. his eyes linger, drinking in the sight before him, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as if restraining himself.
his mouth finds you without hesitation, lips wrapping around one peak as a sharp gasp escapes you. the warmth of his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin sends a shiver down your spine, your body reacting instantly to the sensation. he doesn’t hold back, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, his teeth grazing you ever so slightly before his tongue soothes over the spot.
a soft moan slips past your lips, your back arching slightly as your fingers dig into the couch, trying to ground yourself against the flood of sensation overtaking you.
he hums against your skin, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you, his grip tightening ever so slightly on your waist.
he’s enjoying this—enjoying the way you react, the way your body responds so easily to him. and you? you’re completely at his mercy.
the room is thick with tension, the kind that settles deep in your bones, making every breath feel heavier. the others just sit there, too stunned to speak, their eyes locked onto you—onto the way sunoo’s mouth moves against your skin, claiming every inch of you with slow, deliberate sucks. the heat of his tongue flicking over each peak sends jolts of pleasure straight through your body, your back arching instinctively, seeking more.
the ache between your legs only grows, pulsing, desperate for relief. your hips move on their own, rolling forward, grinding against the growing bulge beneath you. the friction is intoxicating, making your breath hitch, a soft, needy moan escaping before you can stop it. the sensation is everything you’ve been craving, sending a sharp spark of pleasure right where you need it most.
but just as quickly as it comes, it’s taken away.
sunoo’s hands grip your waist, stilling your movements in an instant, his fingers digging in just enough to make his point. his lips leave your skin, glistening, his gaze meeting yours with a dangerous mix of control and amusement.
“you take what i give.”
his voice is low, firm, laced with authority that sends a shiver down your spine. his grip doesn’t loosen, his presence completely consuming, demanding your submission with nothing more than a look.
your breathing is uneven, your body still trembling from the denied pleasure, but the challenge in his tone makes your stomach twist in anticipation.
“please, sunoo…” you whimper, your voice barely above a breath, laced with desperation. your fingers dig into his shoulders, your body trembling as his fingertips lazily trace over the thin fabric covering your aching core.
he doesn’t rush—no, he takes his time, barely applying any pressure, just the softest, teasing flicks against your clothed clit. the sensation is maddening, sending tiny jolts of pleasure through you, but never enough to satisfy the throbbing need building inside you.
a low chuckle rumbles from his chest, his lips curling into a smirk as he watches you squirm beneath his touch. “you sound so pretty begging for me, baby…” his voice is smooth, laced with amusement, but there’s something deeper beneath it—something dark, something possessive.
his words send a shiver down your spine, a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs. you moan at the praise, eyes fluttering shut as the ache intensifies, your pussy clenching helplessly around nothing.
you need more—so much more—but sunoo just keeps up his agonizing pace, barely giving you what you want, dragging out every second, watching as your desperation grows.
“look at you,” he muses, his fingers pressing just a little harder, enough to make your breath hitch. “so needy, and i’ve barely even touched you.”
he moves before you can even process it. with effortless strength, he lifts you off his lap, his hands gripping your waist as he shifts positions. a startled gasp escapes you as he tosses you gently onto the couch, the plush cushions cushioning your fall.
your body barely has time to react before he’s kneeling between your legs, his presence dominating the space between you. his hands are steady, deliberate, as they hook into the waistband of your lace panties, dragging them down in one slow, tantalizing motion. the cool air kisses your exposed skin, sending a shiver up your spine as your underwear is discarded somewhere onto the floor.
his breath hitches, a low, appreciative grunt escaping his lips as he takes in the sight of you—completely bare before him. a moment of silence hangs in the air, heavy and charged, before you hear the sharp intake of breath from the others.
“i’m gonna make you feel so good, baby…” his voice is a smooth promise, dripping with intent, his fingertips brushing along the inside of your thighs as he spreads them wider, fully exposing you to his hungry gaze.
his eyes darken as he drinks in the sight of you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he groans at the sheer view.
“and while i do that,” he continues, his tone firm, unwavering. his gaze flickers up to meet yours, filled with something dangerous, something commanding. “i want you to look at them.”
your breath stutters.
his words settle deep within you, igniting something raw, something forbidden. your eyes flicker toward the others, who are still watching, still mesmerized by the scene unfolding before them.
the weight of their gazes only makes the heat between your legs burn hotter.
sunoo starts slow, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your inner thighs, leaving a trail of delicate, teasing kisses. each press of his lips is unhurried, deliberate, like he’s savoring the taste of you before he even reaches his destination. the heat of his breath fans over your sensitive skin, making your muscles twitch in anticipation.
he inches up, closer and closer, until he’s face to face with your aching core. your slickness glistens under the dim light, coating your folds, an unspoken invitation that makes his breath hitch. his fingers move with purpose, spreading you open, exposing every delicate inch of you to his hungry gaze.
your body jolts at the sensation, a sharp gasp slipping past your lips. “s-sunoo…” you whimper, your voice trembling, thick with need.
but before you can say anything else, he’s on you.
his lips crash against your pussy with a fervor that makes your head spin, tongue immediately delving between your folds, collecting every bit of your arousal in his mouth. he groans at the taste, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you, making your back arch off the couch.
his tongue moves expertly, flicking and swirling, alternating between slow, teasing strokes and deep, indulgent licks. he devours you like he’s been starving for this moment, his grip tightening on your thighs as he pulls you closer, burying himself deeper.
the sounds—the wet, sinful noises of his mouth working against you, the soft gasps and moans spilling from your lips—fill the room, adding to the thick, unbearable tension that already lingers.
your eyes flutter shut, your lips parting as soft, breathy moans spill from them. the sensation of his tongue working against you is almost overwhelming, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. your fingers tangle in the cushions beneath you, grasping for something—anything—to keep yourself grounded as he pleases you so effortlessly.
but just as you begin to sink into the bliss, a sharp sting blossoms across your thigh, the sudden smack making you jolt. a gasp rips from your throat, your eyes snapping open in shock as heat radiates from the spot where his hand just struck.
“what did i tell you?” sunoo’s voice is smooth, yet firm, holding an edge of authority that makes your stomach twist.
his dark eyes flick up to meet yours, his lips glistening with your slickness, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he watches your reaction. his fingers trail over the place he just struck, soothing the warmth left behind, before giving your thigh another sharp squeeze.
“keep your eyes on them.”
his words send a fresh wave of heat through you, your body responding instinctively, thighs trembling slightly beneath his grip. he waits, watching you expectantly, making sure you obey before diving back in, his tongue resuming its torturous, sinful pace.
you obey him without hesitation, your eyes barely able to stay open as pleasure crashes over you in waves. your expression is completely undone—lips parted, swollen from where you’ve been biting them, brows furrowed in pure, unfiltered bliss. every nerve in your body is on fire, every muscle tensed in anticipation of what’s coming next.
his mouth latches onto your clit with a sudden, intense suction that makes your back arch off the couch, a sharp moan ripping from your throat. the wet warmth of his tongue moves expertly, flicking and swirling before he sucks harshly again, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.
just when you think you can’t take any more, his fingers press against your entrance, teasingly circling before slowly pushing inside. the stretch is delicious, his fingers sinking into you with ease, the slickness of your arousal making it effortless. he groans against you, the vibrations only adding to the unbearable pleasure as he starts to move—slow at first, testing, before curling his fingers just right, hitting that spot that has your entire body trembling.
“fuck, s-sunoo..” your voice is broken, shaky, barely coherent as you clutch onto the couch for dear life.
he hums against your clit, clearly pleased with your reaction, his fingers picking up their pace, thrusting into you deeper, harder, his mouth never once relenting.
the coil in your stomach tightens dangerously, the pleasure building rapidly, threatening to consume you whole.
“sunoo—sunoo, please!” you cry out, your voice breaking between moans as his fingers continue their relentless pace, plunging into you with precision, each thrust leaving you breathless. the wet, sinful sounds of your arousal echo through the room, only adding to the intensity of the moment. your walls flutter around his fingers, clenching down instinctively as that familiar, burning heat coils deep in your stomach, warning you that you’re teetering on the edge.
“fuck, sunoo—i’m gonna cum! i—i can’t—” your words come out in desperate gasps, your entire body trembling as the pleasure builds unbearably.
but instead of giving in, he chuckles darkly against your skin, his breath hot as he murmurs, “aww, you wanna cum, baby?” his voice is smooth, teasing, completely unfazed by your desperation.
his fingers don’t slow—not even for a second. if anything, he moves even faster, driving them deeper, curling them just right until your legs are shaking around him. and then, just when you think you can’t take anymore, his thumb comes down on your swollen clit, pressing down before rubbing harsh, relentless circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. the sudden overstimulation makes your back arch off the couch, a sharp, broken moan ripping from your throat.
but just as your release is within reach, just as you’re about to fall over the edge, he suddenly tightens his grip on your thigh, voice dropping into a firm, commanding tone.
“you’re gonna hold it.”
your eyes widen in pure, helpless agony. “w-what?” your voice is a wrecked whimper, your body on fire, teetering dangerously on the brink of pleasure.
he smirks, amusement flickering in his dark eyes as he watches you squirm, your desperation only fueling him more. “you heard me. you’re not cumming until i say so.”
your body betrays you, clenching around his fingers, desperate for relief, but he gives you none. instead, he continues his ruthless pace, dragging you further into the agonizing high without letting you fall over the edge.
“fuck—no, sunoo! i can’t—please!” you cry out, your voice breaking into a desperate sob as your body trembles uncontrollably beneath his touch. your hands clutch at the cushions, fingers curling into the fabric like a lifeline, your entire body writhing under the intensity of his movements. your legs shake violently, barely able to keep still as he continues his merciless assault, his fingers plunging in and out of you at a brutal pace, stretching you, filling you, driving you to the very edge of insanity.
your chest rises and falls in frantic breaths, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from the sheer overstimulation. every muscle in your body is taut, coiled so tightly it feels like you might snap at any moment. the unbearable pleasure surges through you in waves, an inferno burning deep in your core, desperate for release. but he won’t let you.
“aww, poor baby…” sunoo coos, his voice laced with mock sympathy, though the amusement in his tone betrays his true intentions. his dark eyes glint with satisfaction as he watches you unravel, drinking in the sight of your helpless state. he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin as he murmurs, “i don’t care.”
his words send a sharp jolt of heat straight through you, a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs despite the sweet torture he’s inflicting.
his fingers curl inside you again, hitting that perfect spot with unrelenting precision, his thumb still circling your clit in fast, ruthless strokes. your legs twitch, your moans turning into broken sobs as you shake beneath him, completely at his mercy.
he’s enjoying this—enjoying the way you fall apart in his hands, how utterly wrecked you are for him.
his movements halt abruptly, leaving you panting, teetering on the edge of a release he refuses to grant. before you can even catch your breath, he shifts you effortlessly, guiding your body to lay flat against the plush cushions of the couch. his touch is firm but careful, positioning you exactly how he wants—spread out, vulnerable, completely at his mercy.
his hands move with purpose, fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt. in one smooth motion, he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside, revealing the toned expanse of his torso. his skin glows under the dim lighting, his prominent abs flexing slightly as he breathes. the sight alone sends another rush of heat pooling between your legs, your thighs instinctively pressing together in anticipation.
but he isn’t done.
his fingers work their way down, unbuttoning his pants with agonizing slowness, as if savoring every second of your hungry gaze trailing over his body. the fabric slides down his hips, along with his boxers, pooling at his feet before he kicks them away carelessly.
and then he’s bare.
his cock springs free, hard and thick, the tip glistening with arousal. the sight alone makes your breath hitch, your mouth going dry as your thighs clench involuntarily. he watches your reaction, his lips curling into a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.
“like what you see, baby?” he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement as he strokes himself lazily, letting you take in every inch of him.
he moves over you with a predatory grace, his body hovering just inches above yours, the heat radiating from his skin making your breath hitch. his hands find your face, fingers cupping your cheeks with a gentleness that contrasts the hunger in his gaze. his thumb strokes your flushed skin before he leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, consuming kiss.
his lips move against yours with raw intensity, swallowing your soft whimpers as his tongue teases its way into your mouth. the taste of him, warm and intoxicating, sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you, your fingers instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer.
a low groan rumbles from his chest as he breaks the kiss, his breath fanning against your lips. without another word, his hand wraps around his cock, fisting it slowly, the slick head brushing against your soaked folds. the contact sends a jolt of electricity through you, a shaky gasp escaping as he drags himself along your slit, coating himself in your wetness.
“fuck…” he grunts, his voice low, strained, the friction making his hips jerk slightly. his cock slides against your clit with every slow stroke, the sensation making your thighs twitch as your body craves more.
he watches your face closely, drinking in every reaction, every flutter of your lashes, every soft gasp that falls from your lips. he’s teasing, taking his time, savoring the feeling of you beneath him, knowing damn well how much you need him to just give in.
before you can even process it, he pushes in—slowly, deliberately, letting you feel every inch as he stretches you open. the sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pressure that has your breath hitching, your fingers curling into the couch beneath you. your walls clench instinctively around him, the tightness drawing a deep, guttural groan from his throat.
“shit…” he breathes out, his voice strained, laced with pure pleasure as he sinks deeper, his cock disappearing inch by inch inside you.
his arms move beneath yours, caging you in, his hands pressing firmly against the cushions just above your shoulders. his body is flush against yours, the warmth of his skin pressing into you, grounding you in the moment.
he dips his head down, his lips ghosting over your neck before pressing soft, lingering kisses against your heated skin. each kiss is slow, almost tender, a stark contrast to the overwhelming fullness stretching you apart. his breath is hot against your pulse, his lips trailing up toward your jaw, as if whispering silent reassurances between each soft peck.
his hips still momentarily, letting you adjust, his thumbs stroking soothing circles against your skin. but the way his fingers tense against the couch, the way his breathing grows heavier, tells you he’s barely holding back.
his hips start to move, and though his initial thrusts are measured, controlled, it doesn’t last. the way your walls cling to him, squeezing him with every inch he sinks into you, has his restraint snapping almost instantly. his movements quickly become rougher, more urgent, each deep thrust slamming into you with a force that leaves you gasping for air.
the sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, mingling with the heavy breaths and desperate moans that spill from your lips. the pleasure is overwhelming, each stroke hitting deep, sending shockwaves through your body. your legs react instinctively, wrapping tightly around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer as your fingers claw at his back, nails digging into the firm muscles beneath your touch.
“sunoo!” you cry out, your voice breaking into a scream of pleasure as he angles his hips just right, dragging against that sensitive spot inside you that makes your vision blur.
his breath is ragged, hot against your ear as he groans, his grip on the cushions tightening as he pounds into you without mercy. “shit, baby… you’re so fucking tight…” his voice is thick with lust, raw and strained, as if he’s barely holding himself together.
his pace only quickens, his thrusts growing deeper, rougher, his body pressing you further into the couch as he loses himself in the way you feel around him. every roll of his hips sends sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins, building that tight coil in your stomach, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“look at you, taking my dick so well, baby…” sunoo groans, his voice thick with pleasure, eyes locked onto the sight of you beneath him. the way your body takes every relentless thrust, the way your walls squeeze him so perfectly—it has his head spinning. his hips don’t slow, not even for a second, driving into you with an unrelenting pace that has you seeing stars.
“fuuuckk—yes, sunoo!” you cry out, your body arching beneath him, the pleasure overwhelming, intoxicating. every thrust hits deeper, harder, sending waves of euphoria crashing through you, your fingers digging into his back in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.
his lips curl into a cocky smirk as he watches you unravel, completely lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. “love this dick already, baby?” he taunts, his breath hot against your lips, the teasing lilt in his voice only making the fire inside you burn hotter.
before you can even answer, his mouth crashes onto yours, stealing your breath, swallowing every moan, every whimper. his lips move with raw hunger, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, deepening the kiss as if he’s trying to consume you whole.
the way you taste—sweet, intoxicating—only fuels him more, makes him thrust into you even harder, his body completely consumed by the way you feel wrapped so tightly around him. he’s drowning in you, in this moment, in the way your bodies move together in perfect, reckless harmony.
he swears he’s never felt this high before—never felt anything like this. it’s addicting. and he never wants to stop.
“fuuuckk—sunoo, i c-can’t—i c-can’t…” your voice is a desperate, broken whimper, your entire body trembling beneath him. every thrust sends you spiraling further, the pleasure so overwhelming it’s almost unbearable. your nails dig into his back, clinging to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.
sunoo groans at the sound of your voice, the way you’re falling apart completely for him. his hips snap forward with relentless force, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to that inevitable peak. he can feel it—the way your walls flutter around him, squeezing him tighter, your body begging for release.
“fuck, baby—wanna cum?” his voice is thick with desire, breathless as he leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear. “you wanna cum for me?”
your head tilts back, a sob of pleasure escaping your lips as your entire body quivers beneath him. you’re teetering on the edge, dangling between sweet bliss and unbearable tension, your mind clouded with nothing but him—his touch, his voice, the way he’s completely consuming you.
“p-please—please, fuck—please!” you beg, your voice wrecked, desperate, pleading for the release you so desperately need.
his fingers tighten their grip on your shoulders, his breath ragged against your skin as he thrusts into you harder, deeper, his own control beginning to fray. “cum for me, baby,” he growls, his voice dark, commanding. “let go.”
a loud, uncontrollable cry rips from your throat as the pleasure crashes over you in violent, overwhelming waves. your entire body tenses, then completely unravels, trembling beneath him as the intense release takes hold.
and then it happens.
the sharp, wet sound fills the air as your climax bursts forth, a powerful spray soaking both you and sunoo. the sudden gush makes your mind go blank, your vision blurring as your body convulses with the force of your orgasm.
gasps echo through the room—the others watching in stunned silence, eyes wide as they take in the sight of you, completely wrecked, completely undone.
sunoo freezes for a moment, his breath catching in his throat, before a deep, guttural moan tears from his lips. his jaw goes slack, his eyes darkening as he watches the way you squirt against him, your slickness dripping down his abs, coating his cock in a way that has his entire body trembling.
“fuck, baby…” he groans, his voice hoarse, filled with pure, raw hunger. the sensation of your release against him, the warmth, the wetness—it drives him wild, makes his hips jerk forward on instinct, as if chasing the feeling of you unraveling beneath him.
your legs shake violently, your hands grasping at anything—his shoulders, the cushions, his arms—as you sob out his name, your entire body still pulsing from the aftershocks.
“sunoo!” your voice is desperate, breathless, your head tilting back as you ride out the high, waves of pleasure still coursing through your veins.
and sunoo? he looks completely mesmerized—completely addicted to the sight of you falling apart just for him.
“fuck—i’m gonna cum, oh shit!” sunoo grunts, his voice rough, breathless, completely lost in the intensity of his release.
his movements grow erratic, hips stuttering as he pulls out at the last second, his hand immediately wrapping around his cock. his strokes are fast, desperate, chasing his high as his chest rises and falls in rapid pants.
a deep, guttural moan rips from his throat as he spills onto your stomach, thick ropes of cum painting your skin as his body jerks with each pulse. his grip on himself tightens, milking every last drop as his head tilts back, his mouth falling open in a silent moan, completely lost in the pleasure overtaking him.
“shit…” he exhales, voice raspy, his body still trembling from the force of his orgasm.
his dark, hooded eyes trail down to the mess he’s made on you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches his release drip down your stomach, glistening against your flushed skin.
without hesitation, his fingers dip into the creamy warmth, gathering his cum onto his fingertips before bringing them to your lips.
“suck.”
his command is firm, unwavering, his gaze locked onto yours, waiting. his fingers press lightly against your bottom lip, smearing the mess against your soft skin, teasing you—daring you.
his breathing is still uneven, his body still humming with the remnants of pleasure, but the hunger in his eyes hasn’t faded. if anything, it’s only grown darker.
you comply without hesitation, parting your lips as his fingers slide past them, pressing against your tongue. the warm, salty taste of him coats your taste buds, and a soft, involuntary moan escapes your throat at the sensation. your tongue swirls around his fingers, sucking lightly, savoring the way he watches you—his gaze dark, filled with something unreadable, something possessive.
his breathing is still uneven, his chest rising and falling as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes. your lips wrap tighter around his fingers, your tongue pressing against the ridges of his knuckles before you slowly pull back, letting them slip from your mouth with a soft pop.
the room is thick with heat, the only sound filling the space being the heavy breathing between the both of you. your skin is damp with sweat, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, and yet the weight of what just happened lingers in the air.
then, sunoo smirks, breaking the silence with a breathy chuckle.
“am i subby now?”
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natty’s notes 〢hoped you liked it !!
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peppertaemint · 3 days ago
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JM & The Peacock
Quite a few people have been waiting for this post so I hope I can do it justice. Here we go…
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There are different ways for people to peacock, and different reasons why they might do it. Think about it like this: when you go to a job interview, you want to have a bit of pizzazz, right? You want the interview panel to walk away thinking, they’re a perfect fit, and forget about all the other interviewees. Peacocking is what people (and animals) do to show they are a good fit for something, and something is usual mating/partnering. *chokes*
Is it always romance and relationships? No. When we’re trying to make new friends, some level of peacocking can occur, too, depending on personality type. When we make new social connections, invariably people want to demonstrate their value as a connection. To a potential friend, you are saying “I’m fun” or “I’m worth knowing,” and you might do that by showcasing all your dirty Hannibal fanfics or your collection of priceless Fabrege eggs. 
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What does this have to do with our favourites, KM? Well, I hope I’m not bursting any bubbles here, but JK seems to have gone through a peacocking phase with Jimin lasting from sometime in 2014 and calming by 2018. And, just so we’re clear, I’m not talking about peacocking in the pick-up artist sense, where someone wears something outlandish to attract interest in hopes of a hookup. As I said, I’m specifically talking about the acts some people do to differentiate themselves as worthy mates. And these behaviours tend to have attention-seeking qualities, hence the connection to the word.  So, yes–you got me–I am saying that JK has done things to show himself as a good potential mate for JM. As much as I try to rationalize this list of actions, I can’t possibly understand them in any other context. If they just have a bromance, it’s the wildest bromance on record. o.O
Let’s get to it. JK loves demanding and holding Minnie’s attention. But, peacocking is more about sending a specific message through your actions to your desired. These are my favourite “peacocking” moments. Maybe you can even add to the list![[MORE]]
JK using a soccer ball to lure Tae away from JM and then take his place
This is a really early example and you could almost write it off as just a flirt tactic, if it wasn’t clear JK was scheming, knowing the camera was capturing everything he did. That means he knew that at some point JM would see what he did (message = received). Tae is sitting beside JM, so JK kicks the ball toward him, and as soon as Tae goes after the ball, he swiftly takes his place next to JM. This is a clever and cute way to demonstrate the lengths you’d go to be beside someone, and I would have loved to see JM watching this video at the time.
Consistently ranking Jimin lowest in looks
For the first year or so, JK was constantly put on the spot to rank the members according to their looks. Invariably, he always ranked JM the lowest. Why is this peacocking? It fits the pigtail-pulling school of flirting, of course, but it’s also a very loud way of differentiating yourself. He’s drawing attention to JM by placing him last over and over. I bet you never remembered how he ranked Suga, for example. He’s also showing daring because he’s not catering to the feelings of JM. In a lot of ways, he’s saying to JM, I know you can take it, so come play with me at this level. He’s not being mushy or soft. 
Backhug slow dance
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Hmm, doesn’t this look like something you’d expect KM to do now? But this is from 2015. They are at an event, dressed to the nines, and JK pulls JM into a romantic slow dance. He’s skirting his hands over his hip bones and pelvis, leaning and caressing. This is very “I’ve got you, babe, and I don’t care who knows.” Given the time frame of this, it feels very peacock-y and a little shocking.
The on-stage stare (0:10)
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Again, this is c. 2015ish. And this moment was one of their first, big public stares (lol, what a sentence). Prolongued, unbroken eye contact is not a platonic action, and JK’s body language here is very assertive. Since our society is super heteronormative (yuck), if you were to replace Jimin with a lady, what would your conclusion be? Probably that JK is “staking a claim” or “making his interest known.” Given the context of this moment (surrounded by an audience during a concert), it seems more like JK is making a statement to show his boldness and lack of fear when it comes to JM. He’s saying, Yep I’m looking at you and everyone can see. Got a problem with that? He’s setting a bar and asking JM to join him.
The Run BTS police episode with the spanking
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This clip has been discussed a million times, but let’s think about the context. They’re shooting a variety show. There’s probably 10+ people watching them behind the camera, plus the other group members. So what does JK do? He shows off his strength and his dominance, lol. He’s saying, I can take care of you but I can do with you what I please. And I don’t care who sees. If that sounds a bit too overbeaing, think of it like this: he’s saying, We can play like this, and I’ll start. And, if you watched the whole episode, you’ll know that JM does return the play. He smacks him a little too hard with a book. Oopsie! (caveat: we don’t know what was filmed first, but I would still hazard that the smack came after this).
Stealing candy from JHope to give to Jimin (6:55ish)
I love this one because it’s as basic as it comes. Minnie seems to want a candy, so JK just grabs it from JHope and gives it straight to Minnie. Well, he actually feeds it to him directly. Oh boy. And I love Hobi’s face because he’s smiling as he looks at JK, but once he looks away, he’s got unmistakable distaste on his face LOL. But, this one is really transparent, and JK’s self-satisfaction is apparent in his swagger as he does it. JK is like, You need something? I will get it for you, no matter what it takes (even if I’m annoying my Hyung). Showing preference and a willingness to put someone before others is a definite sign of interest and worthiness. I will put you first.
Walking through a sprinkler unbothered (BV2)
Okay, this is classic peacocking for a few reasons. Before JK walks through this sprinkler at the urging of Tae & JM, he was standing on the rocks looking at the ocean with the two. Then, a wave came in and splashed him, and only him. JM died of laughter, and JK was a little embarassed. It was genuinely funny. But, if you’re trying to impress your desired, you don’t want to let on that you’re annoyed/mortified that the perfect moment was wrecked? That would show too much ego and pridefulness. So, when there’s a suggestion to walk through a sprinkler, he accepts without hesitation: water is no foe of mine! It’s all about showing you don’t care in front of your desired, but also taking another opportunity to make that person laugh.  
Re-enacting Jimin’s songs & dances for comedic effect
There are many examples of this, especially of the song Lie in particular. JK loves to mimic his singing and dancing, but what’s really going on here? He’s showing he knows all of JM’s lyrics, how to sing the song and how to do all the dance steps. He’s also paying homage in a way that makes JM laugh. And, it also ensures all eyes are on him for something that relates to JM. Isn’t that interesting? o.O
GDA 2017 dance
Ah, this is one of my all-time favourite examples. Peacocking is all about drawing the attention of your desired, and what does JK do? He decides to sexy dance for JM on TV and in front of a live audience, and yes, that dance is for JM, not for us nor for the audience present… You might be thinking, oh, he’s just being goofy. Did you see JM’s reaction? That isn’t the reaction of “my friend is a goofball” – that’s rare shyness on JM’s behalf. This one, like others, is about fearlessness and not caring who’s watching. And that fearlessness is about daring to be a bit sexy for JM on purpose in front of others, as well as saying, I’ll embarass myself just to put a smile on your face.
As you can probably see from the list of examples, a lot of these actions are designed to invite JM to either play with him in a certain way, or show JK’s daring. Flirting (and mating) rituals are as much about play as they are the biological stuff going on in the background. We look for people who play how we play, enjoy what we enjoy and respond to our behaviours in a desireable way. Consider this: if baby JK did the slow dance with JM, and JM just turned around, slapped him and walked away, that would be a clear message, wouldn’t it? Or, if in the Run episode, instead of returning the play, JM was angry or annoyed, wouldn’t that show incompatibility and a misstep on JK’s part? Hmm!
As a relationship evolves, actions that would be seen as peacocking during a courthship period become affirmations. Examples of this could be grabbing the giant chunk of snow in the hills in New Zealand, the GCF video(s) and Rosebowl. And beyond these meaningful actions, JK’s peacocking has really translated into over-the-top, cornball flirting. Some examples:
Do you smell something burning? … My heart is burning.
What do you get when you mix blue and red? … That’s right, I purple you.
Singing “Jimin nothing stronger” to the tune of BwL.
Reading a fortune cookie to Jimin during an official interview (+room full of people) and saying his name informally. “May I say this to you? Jimin-ah, if you’re not #1, it’s okay. (Where are you going??) You’re always #1 to me.”
His mock use of the impersonal “Jimin-ssi” in so many different flirty tones.
Does JM peacock? He does, but not in the same way. JM is about affection and possession. JK has always been the apple of his eye, but over time, he became JM’s prize, or his prince to put it in a less weird way. And, JM has always been content to show his clear desire for JK without any subtlety. Perhaps we could think of it like JM tells and JK shows. JM does show too, but let’s consider these paraphrased lines: 
I like you so much I don’t know what to do 
I can’t live because of you 
We are in a love relationship 
On my day off, I will go on a date with Jungkook
I want to go on a trip with Jungkook
Jungkook I promised to go to the moon with me Jungkook
The person who makes me happiest is Jungkook
The thing that makes me happiest is when I wake up and see Jungkook
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e-b-reads · 1 day ago
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Results! This was interesting! I kind of want to load everyone's tags into some kind of qualitative software for organization purposes and do like a thematic analysis but I shall refrain. For now. A couple take-aways:
lots of people saying historical inaccuracies/specifically historical fashion
a subset of people saying they don't like 21st century concepts/terminology transplanted to historical settings
surprising number of people who know about horses. (probably shouldn't be surprising, but I don't know about horses so I didn't think of it)
lots of people have things related to their jobs and/or areas of study. sometimes they get mad at inaccuracies within their area of knowledge and sometimes the inaccuracies are about the culture surrounding that area (what it is like to be a grad student/physicist/etc.)
and there's lots of very unique individual areas of knowledge/expertise as well! I recommend reading some of the notes!
Most interesting thing from this is the way it is impossible to ask a question in writing and have everyone actually answering the same question. For me, the books I reference in the original post are books I actually really enjoyed! And I think the authors did do research! I just found that I know enough about sailing that if I'm imagining a story as it happens, and something unexpected comes up, I end up needing to stop and figure out if I was just imagining wrong or what. So I was sort of trying to ask if others also had that experience: subjects that they know so much about that even good books will get little things wrong, and they'll notice. (I still don't know if I've expressed this quite right!)
In the tags, people range from being like "oh yeah I am like that with horses" to "I care deeply about historical fashion and will get angry if shows get it wrong" to "I'm so annoyed by this common misunderstanding about my field of expertise!" which are all answering three slightly different things! (The last one doesn't even necessarily have to do with fictional media!) I don't mean this as a judgement! I liked reading the tags and I think people's responses are neat. I just also think it's interesting how communication does and doesn't work.
OK this is an excuse for me to be a little pretentious/pedantic, but I figured others might also want the opportunity to be a little pretentious/pedantic, so I'm making a poll out of it!
My pretension: I like reading (duh!), and I'm OK with a little inaccuracy for the sake of artistry. I mean, there are definitely authors who never bother to google basic terminology in a field, or try to write convincing history (or fantasy) without actually knowing much history...but if an author I otherwise like gets a little detail wrong about some specialist thing, I'm not likely to even notice. Except! If the thing is about boats/sailing. Examples below, but first, the poll:
I'm sure there's some technical mistakes (especially related to boats I'm less used to, like tall ships) that still slip by me. But I've had a couple times recently (different books/authors) where I was reading and enjoying myself and was suddenly twitched out of the story by an inaccuracy. One book where someone was asked to secure the boom after a tack (on a nice 45-ft modern sloop) which already doesn't make a ton of sense, and then she moved to a strange place in the boat to apparently do this. Another where the author twice mixed up jibing and tacking in dialogue (on the lines of "Don't sail to close to the wind or you'll jibe!" At least once the speaker was supposed to be an expert sailor).
Anyway, I still enjoyed the books overall, but I noticed both times I literally had to stop reading a think for a second, like wait, was I imagining it wrong? No, it's the author's fault! So now I'm telling you all about it.
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mylovesstuffs · 18 hours ago
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OT13 reaction to their s/o watching true crime before bed
Request: good evening😊 or good morning/afternoon depending what time it is in your city 🙂I would like to make request if it’s possible/open and if you in a mood / comfortable🫶🏻Svts reaction if their gf is watching criminal type of videos before going to bed 🌚 Like, it makes her feel relaxed, after all she is just a girl 💅Personally, I love to watch this type of videos, if I’m doing something or eating😅 Thank you very much! Have a nice day and stay safe and drink water ✌️
A/N: Good evening (or whatever time it is for you too!!) 😊🫶🏻 First of all, I totally get you. Nothing like some true crime documentaries or murder mystery videos before bed, it’s just ✨comforting✨ for some reason. And this was SO FUN to write!!!
"Uh...Babe? Are You Okay?" (Confused but Concerned)
Joshua: Low-key judging, but still loves you. He walks into the room, ready to cuddle, only to hear some creepy narrator say, “And that’s how they found the body, hidden in the walls—” His eyes widen immediately. “Baby…why do you look so relaxed while watching this??” He’d never stop you, but he’d definitely side-eye you every night.
Woozi: Does not get it, does not try to get it. He just stares at you as some guy on the screen says, “And the murderer was never caught.” “…You actually like this?” He won’t say much, but he’ll 100% complain when he hears it while trying to sleep. “Can you at least wear headphones? Please?”
Mingyu: Wholesome concern. This man genuinely just wants you to be safe, warm, and unbothered at all times, so he’s shook when he finds out that serial killer documentaries help you sleep????? “Baby, what if you have nightmares?” He might start watching with you just to ‘protect’ you…but ends up getting scared himself lol.
"Oh, That’s Cute." (Unbothered but Slightly Amused)
Jun: Casually listens but doesn’t flinch. If you fall asleep with a murder doc playing, he just tucks you in and keeps watching. The next day, he randomly goes, “Did you know that some serial killers keep trophies?” like it’s casual small talk.
Hoshi: Lowkey fascinated. You tell him, “It helps me relax,” and instead of judging, he just says, “Ooooh, okay.” He doesn’t really care but he might start asking questions. “Wait, how did he get away with it for so long?” Ends up getting into it because of you.
Vernon: Not at all fazed that you watch these. He walks in, sees you watching a 3-hour deep dive on a missing person case, and just goes, “Nice.” He’s the least surprised out of everyone. If anything, he just finds it funny when you’re eating a snack while watching something horrifying.
"WAIT, THIS IS INTERESTING." (Ends Up Watching With You)
Wonwoo: This man is lowkey a crime doc enjoyer already. He wouldn't even blink when you tell him it helps you relax. In fact, he might just ask for recommendations. “Which case are you watching today?” If you fall asleep before finishing, he’ll continue watching alone and update you in the morning.
Minghao: Doesn't get it at first, but respects your taste. Then one night, he sits down with you, and boom—he’s hooked. He starts watching crime docs in his free time and tells you random creepy facts. “You know, in some cases, the murderer actually returns to the scene.”
Seungkwan: He’d definitely roast you but then get invested lol. The first time he sees you watching, he gasps. “What do you MEAN this helps you relax??” But after five minutes of standing behind you, he suddenly whispers, “Wait, so how did they find the body?” Now it’s his addiction too.
Dino: Acts high-key dramatic about it but secretly enjoys it. He’ll joke like, “Ahhh, my girlfriend is scary!!” but then sits next to you and asks 10 questions per minute. If you fall asleep, he’ll be like, “Nooo, wake up! We still don’t know who did it!!”
"…Should I Be Worried?" (A Little Scared but Loves You Anyway)
Seungcheol: Fake worried. He sees you laying down and watching crime scene analysis and just sighs. “Remind me never to make you mad.” But he secretly finds it cute that you’re so into it, just don’t expect him to watch with you.
Jeonghan: Teases you constantly. “Are you taking notes?” “Should I be scared?” “You’re not…planning anything, right?” He acts suspicious of you on purpose but if he ever does watch, he’ll be too invested and refuse to sleep before knowing the ending.
Dokyeom: The most scared out of everyone. The moment he hears “and the killer was never caught,” he turns on all the lights in the house. He will refuse to watch with you, but if you tell him “It helps me relax,” he’ll just nervously smile and say, “Aha…yeah…okay…just don’t ever say that in public.”
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rvmanoffbarnes · 2 days ago
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watch (bucky barnes x au! neighbour reader)
Summary: Y/N was attracted to her neighbor, the handsome and charming Bucky Barnes; better known as the man from 216B. She always tried to make their paths meet in the building; If she saw that he was going to get the mail, she would go get hers. She brought him cookies in the hope of winning him over. If she heard that Bucky was attending the neighbors' parties, she was always there. Admiring it from afar, as always. However, one day she overhears something she shouldn't have heard.....
Author's note: this is HEAVY angst (i think so), so i hope you're prepared.
《tags: angst, reader being a sunshine, heavy angst, bucky being an idiot, he realizes to late, mean comments; you know who's coming to make her feel deserved and loved👀》
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Y/N had a crush on Bucky.
She was sure of what she felt for the man with black hair and blue eyes. That man who offered to help her with the boxes she was carrying the day she moved into the building. From that moment on, Y/N was under Bucky's charms.
She believed that after that day, a friendship would form between them; It was difficult for her to socialize with people, but that did not take away from the girl's nobility and friendliness.
Unfortunately for her, Bucky barely greeted her and nothing more. The girl thought that perhaps he was shy or had a hard time opening up to people, but seeing him chatting animatedly with the redhead a few floors above, that thought changed.
So she decided to try to start a conversation with him everytime she saw him go to get his mail from the reception. Y/N watched through the peephole in the door as he left his apartment and then went down to look for them. Y/N fixed her hair and let it fall in waves and sighed before casually approaching the man, who seemed to be interested in the mail.
"Oh, hello Bucky," she greets as if taken by surprise.
He looks at her and greets her with a nod.
Y/N looks through her mails while Bucky reads some letters next to her.
"Anything good?" She asks him "I received coupons"
"Uhh, not much. Actually" he says with a tight smile.
"Mhm, yeah. Sometimes I would like to receive one that says I won a lottery" she laughs to keep the conversation afloat, but stops as soon as she sees how Bucky just nods his head "Um, anyway.... how have you been?"
He sighs and grimaces, shrugging his shoulders.
"Everything's fine," he replies and clears his throat "I should probably go. I left the pot on."
She nods her head, and is disappointed that she can't stay by his side longer.
"Oh, yeah, yeah. Go, we don't want to end up with the building on fire," she tries to joke, and he just smiles to seem friendly.
"Goodbye....." he lengthens the word.
She is surprised to notice that Bucky doesn't remember her name. They had already introduced themselves and that time he repeated her name. Twice.
“Y/N” she says.
Bucky repeats it and turns to leave, leaving the girl a little embarrassed.
She didn't want that to stop her from trying to "win him over." Maybe she wasn't the prettiest girl in the building, but she considered herself pretty and enough, and that's what mattered. As she walked up the stairs, she had a conversation with herself. What else could she do for Bucky to be more open with her and start to see her with different eyes? Or even just see her.
She had a hard time talking to people. Every time she was in a conversation and it was her turn to speak, another person would intervene and she would be left with the word in her mouth. Or most people stopped listening to it. She didn't let it get to her, so she just smiled and stayed quiet for the rest of the talk until someone asked her back. She had never had a boyfriend. She had spent all her school and university years studying so that she could get a good job that she would like for the rest of her life, so she had never tried to practice chatting with boys.
Now she was paying the consequences for not being able to chat easily with Bucky.
When she arrived at her apartment, she took a sideways glance at door 216B, where the person she considered the love of her life lived. Pathetic, she knows that.
It's impossible that she could have fallen in love with him so quickly when they barely spoke to each other, or didn't know each other that well. However, she couldn't help but feel her heart skip a beat every time she saw him. She thought that feeling was the closest thing to love. And she would do everything in her power to make it happen.
Maybe baking cookies could help her think of something.
As she was looking for her keys, she heard someone complaining a few meters away from her. The girl turned to look and watched as a boy made an effort to keep the box in his arms while trying to open the door.
"Shit" he curses.
"Oh, do you want help?" She asks the boy whose face cannot be seen because of all the boxes he carries.
"Oh my God, yes. Please" he pleads and laughs lightly.
"Ok, let me see if I can...." The man stretches out his hand as best he can and hands her the keys to the apartment.
She opens the door and lets him enter the place first, followed by her.
"Oh God, thank you" he says leaving the boxes on the floor, then turning to look at her "Thank you so ... wow"
He stares at her and suddenly doesn't know how to continue. She smiles kindly at him and hands him the keys.
"No problem. I remember being like that the first time I arrived too." she doesn't notice how flustered the man is "I'm Y/N Y/L/N. And you are....?"
He reacts and moves his head.
He shakes his hand against hers and introduces himself. "I'm Bob. Well, Robert Reynolds," he says and she smiles.
"And I'm new here. Although... you already realized that." The man puts his arms on his waist and watches as the girl laughs at it.
"Well, Bob. It's nice to meet you," she says with a smile. "I live in the apartment next door. So if you need anything, or a friend, I'm here."
Bob nods with a smile plastered on his face. "Same here" he says, although he corrects himself instantly "Only if you want to, of course. Because we just met and i'm a stranger, so.... i better shut up"
Y/N laughs and finds him cute. "It would be a pleasure, Bob."
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Y/N had spent all night trying to make the cookie recipe.
She liked to think she was good at baking, but she would be lying to herself. She had two trays of burnt cookies, which had been later throw in the trash. However, the third time is the charm.
The next day she had gotten up, taken a shower and spent her day completely normally until she decided to go to Bucky's door to bring him the cookies she had prepared. She didn't know what his favorites were, so she made a tray of oatmeal, chocolate chip, and butter cookies. Hoping that the blue-eyed man likes some of the baked ones.
With one hand she holds the plate of cookies, while with the other she fixes her hair and smoothes the skirt of her sundress. Every time she tried to meet him she wanted to look good and attractive, maybe that way that would captivate his attention too.
She sighs and tries to calm down before knocking on the door. "Just a second!" someone says on the other side of the door. Y/N bites her lower lip and smiles when they open the door, only for it to fall from her face when she runs into Sam, the man's roommate.
"Hello Y/N" Sam says with a smile "How are you?"
"Hi Sam, everything's fine. How are you?" Sam grimaces and nods his head.
"Everything's fine here, too. Thanks," he looks down at the girl's plate of cookies. "What do we have here? Baking day?"
Y/N laughs sheepishly and nods her head, waiting for Bucky to come to the door.
"Yes, I was trying out a new recipe and I made these cookies," she says, because they were specifically for a certain man. The girl clears her throat and asks: "Is Bucky home?"
Sam looks at her mischievously and shakes his head. He calls out to him with a shout and when the man appears next to him, Y/N feels her heart race at the sight of him. He looks handsome, like every day.
"Hi Bucky" she says nervously.
"Oh, hi" he says taken by surprise "What are you doing here?"
Y/N holds out her plate of cookies and offers them to Bucky, all while Sam watches from inside of the apartment.
"Um, I made these cookies last night and... I thought you might like them," she corrects herself immediately. "Well, you both might like them."
Bucky frowns slightly and receives his plate. "Thank you. I'm sure Sam will like them." Bucky says with the plate in his hands. "I don't eat sugar."
Sam looks at him from afar, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, I... I didn't know. I'm sorry," she says immediately, while blushing. "But the oatmeal ones are sugar-free. You might like those."
"Yeah... i don't know. Honestly i don't like cookies" she feels a pang in her chest "But i'll try them"
Y/N smiles again and nods her head, feeling more hopeful about it.
"Well, i hope you like them. I can make another dessert next time, if you like" she offers while fidgeting with her fingers.
Bucky just nods and looks at her kindly, but it seems like he doesn't want to be there anymore.
"Thank you Jennie" he says and she frowns.
“I’m Y/N.” Bucky laughs and shakes his head.
"I'm sorry. Y/N," he corrects himself and starts with his arm to close the door. "Have a good day, Y/N."
"You too, Bucky."
She didn't think this was what the interaction might be like when she brought him the plate of cookies. Bucky looked uncomfortable receiving them, and she didn't like that. The girl thought that he might have a different reaction—maybe fall in love with her on the spot (very ridiculous to even think about)—and he would be nicer to her. Or he would invite her to eat the cookies together. But none of that happened.
Even the thanks turned out to be a bit cold to hear.
Bucky had barely looked at the girl's dress, or at her. She felt disappointed every time she had these encounters with the man. Why did it have to be so difficult to talk to him?
That wasn't going to stop her though. She still had a chance to get closer to him.
Just wait and see, she told to herself.
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It was common for the people in the building to have these small parties on the roof. The vast majority attended and brought their own meals and desserts to share among everyone.
Y/N didn't frequent those celebrations much, because she always stayed in a corner watching the rest interact. She hated that she had to be so shy in that way and not have the gift of socializing. The girl had tried, but when she didn't feel the other person's interest, she would simply withdraw. Tonight, however, she was going to attend one of those parties.
Perhaps the reason may have been the fact that Bucky would be attending with Sam. Plus there would be free food already prepared, so the girl wouldn't have to worry about cooking.
When Y/N was dressed, she grabbed her dessert, a sugar-free flan—since Bucky didn't eat sweets—and walked up the stairs to the roof. The music could already be heard with every step she took, but at a reasonable volume so as not to disturb the rest. When she saw the place, she tried to look for the black haired man, but she couldn't see him anywhere.
The only one she saw was Bob standing in a corner with a can of soda; he looked out of place and somewhat uncomfortable. She understood that, in addition to being new, it could be that it was difficult for him to open up to people as was the case with her. The girl left the prepared dessert on the table, greeting some neighbors out of politeness, and approached Bob, who smiled at her when he saw her.
"Hi Bob," she greets.
He stands up straight and waves his hand to accompany the greeting.
“Hello Y/N.”
"Aren't these types of parties your scene?" she asks him, tilting her head to the side.
He lets out a humorless laugh and looks down at his drink. "Parties in general aren't my scene," he replies and takes the last sip of his soda.
Y/N nods her head.
"Same here" they both laugh and immerse themselves in a conversation to get to know each other better.
Bob had told her that a long time ago he used to attend much more produced and crazy parties, but he had hit rock bottom and had promised himself not to go back to that past. Y/N listened carefully and understood his part of his story, making him feel comfortable and not judging him for it. They seemed to understand each other well and feel a genuine friendship forming. Although it seemed that the brown-haired man felt more than that for the girl.
The girl's attention that was on Bob was stolen by the man who had entered the party with a confident aura and style. Y/N subtly fixed her hair and excused herself from Bob to go greet Bucky. But just when she was about to touch his shoulder and greeting him, a blonde approached him and hugged him with a close and passionate complicity.
Y/N sighed and tried to clear her mind by eating a muffin.
A couple of minutes later, she tried to go to the bathroom before continuing to talk to Bob. She turned a corner and before she could knock the door to make sure no one was there, she was surprised to hear her name called.
"..... are you sure there's nothing going on with Y/N?" The blonde, named Sharon, asks.
There is a gap in the bathroom door. Y/N doesn't want to look, but she's curious to hear her name. Bucky has Sharon against the bathroom wall and laughs when she asks the question. Had the blonde asked him if there was something between her and Bucky? Does Bucky really look at her the way she expected him to and never noticed that before?
"Why do you ask me that?" He asks with an amused voice.
"Because I've seen you two being together these days. At the reception, her bringing you desserts, her asking about you and even taking packages to your apartment" Sharon explains, while Bucky's arms slip around her waist "And she looks at you like you hung the moon"
Y/N feels ashamed about that.
"I assure you that nothing happens between her and me. Nothing will ever happen" he responds confidently, and laughs sarcastically "I could never notice a girl who is so crazy about me. She annoys me every time she tries to talk to me or gives me desserts; the other day I had to tell her that I didn't eat sugar to make her stop, but she insisted on making me one without sugar" he laughs along with Sharon.
"I would never like her. She is so dorky and so childish, and i don't wanna sound like an idiot but i need a woman, not a kid" he says and Sharon laughs "Someone like you.... probably. Now, can we continue making out?"
Y/N feels tears well up in her eyes as she hears how cruel his words are, even though they might be true. However, she didn't deserved that.
Bucky Barnes has break her heart.
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The next few days, Y/N stopped chasing him.
After hearing what he thought of her, she had promised herself not to lose her dignity and not to waste her time with someone who wasn't worth it. Obviously, she had a hard time doing it at first, but she had to get over her crush at some point.
Y/N tried to avoid going to get her mail, and if she did, she tried to be wary of being seen by Bucky. It wasn't like Bucky had seen her outside the bathroom that day, but she didn't want to have to face him after what he said about her. The girl no longer baked him cookies, desserts, or anything. She thought it had been a waste of flour and eggs on someone who didn't appreciate it.
These days she spent swallowing her pain alone, but not completely on her own.
Bob was there trying to clear her head of what had happened.
He had followed her that day when he noticed that she was taking a long time, and when he found her with her teary eyes, he thought about looking for the unfortunate guy who provoked that reaction in the girl just to take care of him. He thinks he knows who it was: Bucky Barnes. He had seen how Y/N's eyes had lit up as soon as she saw him arrive.
Right now, they were both in the living room of Y/N's apartment while eating pizza and watching a movie. It had become a routine for them, where every Friday they would get together after work and enjoy their free time. As friends, of course.
Bob kept sneaking glances at Y/N as she hummed the songs from The Wizard of Oz, and he couldn't deny how cute she looked. It wasn't hard to see that the boy had feelings for her since he met her, something he thought was impossible to feel just minutes after meeting her.
But love works in mysterious ways.
Bob couldn't keep his feelings quiet any longer, especially after seeing how hurt Y/N was about Bucky. He would wait as long as he has to wait for her to know what he feels.
After the movie ended, Bob felt Y/N's head on his shoulder and felt his heart race at the sight of her sleeping so peacefully. He didn't want to move so as not to disturb her, but he had to answer the door after hearing repeated knocks on it.
The man left the girl lying on the couch, covering her with a blanket up to her neck. Then, he walked to the door and opened it without looking at who it was, only to get a tasteless surprise when he saw that it was Bucky. The black-haired man seemed sure before his face fell when he saw Bob receiving it.
"Who are you?" Bucky asks with a frown.
Bob closes the door a little to cover his view of the apartment inside, where Y/N was sleeping. The brunette clenches his jaw and crosses his arms.
"What are you doing here?" Bob answers him with another question.
"I asked you first," Bucky says.
"I asked you second," he counters.
Bucky laughs unamusedly and shakes his head. "I brought Y/N the mail. She hasn't come for it in days and... well, I haven't seen her in a while" Bucky explains, showing him the letters in his hands.
Bucky gets defensive and crosses his arms.
"Now, tell me, who are you?" Bob looks at him without taking his eyes off him. "I've never seen you around; I'm surprised that Y/N has a man in her apartment."
Bob laughs at the audacity of the man in front of him.
"You're an asshole" he mutters for himself "You should be surprised at what an idiot you've been to her."
Bucky looks confused.
"I haven't been an idiot to her. Whenever she talks to me I respond and accept everything she bakes for me, that's not being an idiot."
"No, that's not" Bob interferes "Being an idiot is to talk nonsense about her in the bathroom during the party and say that she is dorky and childish because of the crush she had on you."
Bucky freezes at that.
"She had a crush on me?"
Bob laughs without believing this guy.
"She was pretty much in love with you" Bob shakes his head "I would think she would be crazy to have felt that way about you, having known you for such a short time and to you being an asshole to her. But I know it was true because I feel the same way about her, even having met her a few weeks ago."
Bucky swallows and feels ashamed of how he treated her and what he said in the bathroom that time. The man had no intention of letting her hear him, but he couldn't go back in time and change it. It was already done.
"You say you're in love with her?" Bucky asks.
"Is that the only thing that stuck out in your mind from what I told you?" Bob asks in disbelief.
Bucky shrugs, the cards forgotten in his hands.
"Yes. I like Y/N" Bob admits "That's not relevant now, because I want you to realize what a shitty person you were to her when she only asked for you to really look at her. She deserves better."
The black-haired man laughs. "And you think you're the best choice for her?"
Bob shakes his head. "I could never be enough for someone as beautiful, tender and dedicated as her," the brunette admits and clears his throat. "But for her, I would give my best to see her happy. Something you could have done, but you ruined it with your damn mouth."
Bucky is silent for a few minutes. He looks down, tensing his jaw, and then hands the letters to the brunette.
"I'm sorry," he admits and the brunette looks at him. "Tell her I'm sorry and that I won't be an idiot with her anymore. I'm willing to talk to her if she wants"
Bob nods.
Bucky walks away to go to his apartment and disappear from Bob's sight, who sighs and closes the door. He puts the cards aside and turns around to be surprised by Y/N, who is standing a few steps away from him.
"Y/N..."
"Is it true?" she asks him.
Bob blinks in confusion.
"What thing?"
"That you're in love with me?"
Bob opens his mouth to respond but closes it when he realizes that it won't help him to lie; She's already heard it come from his lips.
Bob nods his head.
"Yeah. I like you, Y/N" he starts to say "But I don't want this to change and you feel uncomfortable because of what I said and what I feel. I can...."
She hugs him and he puts his arms around her, closing his eyes.
"I can't say I'm in love with you, but I do like spending time with you and being around you, Bob," she smiles and he feels his heart race. "I like you, and I don't want you to think I'm doing this because just now you admitted it and Bucky was a fool. I really like you, and I'd like us to go slow."
"I would very much like that, actually" Bob agrees with her.
She smiles and kisses his cheek.
"Although, you still need to talk to Bucky" Bob says "He looked sorry for everything he did"
Y/N nods.
"I know" she says firmly "But right now i wanna be with you"
They both hug again, hoping to start something new between them.
119 notes · View notes
contamination-zone · 2 days ago
Text
Sharing a Meal
[UTMV FIC] Contains: Platonic Fresh & Nightmare, cannibalism, toxic relationship, Dead Dove*, non-consensual touching** [2,000~ words]
*[LOT of cannibalism] **[Nightmare and Fresh are good, but Fresh's host is semi-conscious at points and Not down to clown]
“I’ll feed you tomorrow if you let me…” It growled, the noise more akin to a whine, “you said this place was all you could eat.” He tightened his grip, letting his hand pet its spine in a soothing motion. It always loved that spot, “Come now, pet. A meal for a meal, that’s how we always did this.”
or. nightmare bites fresh. a lot. [platonic]
Fic under cut! or on AO3
Nightmare barely looked up as Fresh entered his office, even as it stomped in, almost seeming to beg for attention. Its wheels rattled against the hardwood floor, and he clicked his tongue, “stop that, you’ll damage the floor's wax.”
“It’ll add to the dreary look you’ve got going on, broski.”
He signed, “I suppose you are right. Is there something you need?”
“Nah, just chilling dude.” Fresh slunk closer, vaguely curious of his work but mostly seeming to want proximity. He was reminded of a cat. It definitely did need something.
“You are a good liar, but not enough for me.” He said, eying it up and down. It was thinner than usual, and a bit haggard looking; maybe it needed a new host? The bags just visible near its eyes could mean it wanted to sleep near him. That antsy energy that seemed to permeate its movements though… “Are you perhaps lonely, my dear parasite?”
“Not lonely my broski, under-stimulated. Bored.”
“Of course.” He’d let it have that. “How about we retreat to my room after… after I finish this paper. I’d been looking to turn in early anyhow.” 
He hadn’t, but he’d been particularly frustrated by the stars, his brother mostly. It would be nice to have some stress relief.
It hummed its ascent, fully finding itself behind his desk, head hooked around his shoulder, as he finished the last  few lines he’d needed to write. 
He shooed it off as he got up, stretching. 
It snickered, “you act like an old man.”
“And you act like a child.”
It laughed again and skipped a few steps ahead. Fresh had spent enough time in his castle, in his chambers, to know where to find them.
He followed at a more leisurely pace, not caring to rush and just enjoying the faint hint of suffering wafting off of his companion. It was too little to tell if it was the host or Fresh itself, but either way it tasted tangerine sweet.
By the time he’d gotten to his room, Fresh had already sprawled across his sheets, lounging like a big cat. Its confidence to act like what was his belonged to it instead astounded him.
“Seems you’ve made yourself comfortable.”
It lazily flicked one eye open. “Of course, brotato.” Throwing out its arms in a universal ‘hug me’ gesture, it whined, “get in here already. This things too cold.”
The guardian of negativity did not mention the fact that he was probably cooler than the bed, himself. Or the fact that it seemed perfectly comfortable without him, seconds beforehand. Further, he did not even climb in bed with it.
He, instead, chose to change into a nightgown. Something warm and flowing, with fluffy lining. 
Eyes bore into his back as he did so, though he knew the parasite had zero interest in what was shown. It was just impatient for him to get his nightly routine over with.
“The next soul you eat should be cyan, Fresh.” 
“Eh? What's that sposed to mean dude?”
“Nothing at all,” he said, settling comfortably next to it and letting his tentacles freemove. Mostly they wrapped around Fresh.
It squirmed a bit, adjusting to the encroaching constraint.
“Settle down,” He murmured against its neck, thinking about how vulnerable it was. It hummed, already sleepy, and tilted its head back so he could cuddle closer. The motion was undeniably cute….
He nuzzled against its vertebrae again, this time purposely blowing some cold air onto them, eliciting a shiver. “Jus’ lemmie’ sleep man…”
“Thought you were always up to having fun,” he teased.
“Rain check…m’ sleepy.”
“I’ll feed you tomorrow if you let me…”
It growled, the noise more akin to a whine, “you said this place was all you could eat.”
He tightened his grip, letting his hand pet its spine in a soothing motion. It always loved that spot, “Come now, pet. A meal for a meal, that’s how we always did this.”
It huffed again, squirming in his grip; he noted it didn’t try that hard. Considering its options.
Finally, it went limp. 
“Good boy,” he whispered, peppering a few kisses up the side of its spinal cord and under its mandible, eliciting more shivers. He wasn’t the largest fan of kissing, though not the biggest detractor either. Fresh, however, seemed to adore them. “aren’t you such a sweetheart?”
It must have loosened its grip on its host for him, because he felt a new wave of revulsion and horror from the body. He couldn’t help but coo at that, “So sweet for me, adorably weak to praise.”
“I just like hearing the truth bro…” it stuck out its tongue at him, annoyed. “Jus keep doing that.”
“Of course, as long as you keep acting so charming.” He hummed, nibbling a little with his next motion, testing. The bone was pretty brittle, probably because it had been in the host for so long. If he bit just a little harder…
It hissed at him, giving a playful swat, “hey! I don’t want to deal with damages.”
He rolled his eyes, “it was just a graze. You make yourself so tempting.”
It narrowed its eyes, and he could taste some annoyance in the air, though nothing too firey, certainly somewhat pacified by the complements.
He nuzzled it more gently, closest he was willing to give to an apology, “I’ll reimburse you. Go out and catch something fresher than I have in the dungeon.”
It hummed, very plainly interested.
He continued, “I’d look for a swap, one very plump and with a lot of good magic. I’m sure I could get them unharmed as well…”
It groaned, “No take backsies though, and you'd gotta get me them. Tomorrow.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“You like that about me.” It grinned, golden tooth glinting.
He sighed, “I really don’t know why.”
“C’monnn,” it whined, “don’t stop dropping the compliments as you get what you want. That’s so shallow!”
He laughed, which must have annoyed it, because it took more initiative. It pressed Nightmare’s face to its chest, growling at him.
“You’re such a charmer,” he said into its chest, “you know that?”
“Of course,” Fresh said, probably rolling its eyes. It listed the rest of its terms, “You can have the clavicles, bit of the sternum, and one or two upper ribs.”
He hummed, considering; what it offered was non-essential to a skeleton monster, at least for a day. “How generous of you.”
“I’m a super giving dude. So it’s a deal?”
“I will concede to that.” He pushed himself up, until he could straddle its stomach. It let him do so, slumping more comfortably in bed.
“The left clavicle first,” he warned, tearing a straight line down the middle of its shirt. Many of the bones had hairline fractures, small, nearly unnoticeable. He went for a spot that seemed easiest to break off.
“My shirt had buttons bro!”
He ignored it— the shirt would be ruined with blood anyway— and bit in, right before its shoulder met clavicle. The bone snapped with an almost unsatisfying crunch. It was brittle from how long Fresh has been in it.
The body below him jerked, though Fresh’s face remained grinning. More control let go of itself so it wouldn���t feel him eating it alive. Disappointing, but he’s sure he can enjoy the pain of its host instead.
After a moment's consideration, he swallowed the dust that had filled his mouth. It tasted bland, and he could understand why Fresh didn’t like it. Still, the image before him of its wounds slowly leaking magic? The wafting pain and fear of its host? It made the experience worth it.
His meal shook its head at his expression, mock disapproving, “you are the nastiest guy I know, you know that bro?”
“You tell me often,” he murmured, taking a lick at one of the bleeding wounds. Much better than just the dust; citrusy, which must have been Fresh’s influence, contrasting with the pain of the host. The sour and sweet mixed into lemonade. “It really is your fault though. You marinate these bodies until they’re irresistible.”
The parasite preened a bit, though it took on a mock-humble tone as it spoke “I don’t alter the magic that much.”
“Then it is good I enjoy the more subtle things in life.” He took another bite, fully removing its left clavicle. Most of it didn’t fit in his mouth, and he cupped his hand to catch the dust. “Do you want some?”
It gave him a flat look, “I already ate most of this body. Really that’s leftovers.”
“Come now,” He pressed his thumb against  the corner of its mouth. It, despite its protests, opened for him. Carefully pouring the dust in, he cooed at its compliance, “Your manners are lovely.” 
It grumbled and swallowed, though the grin got wider, “yeah… tastes awful. This is why I eat them live.” 
“To each their own, I suppose.” He hummed, fitting his teeth around the rib just below his last bites, splattered with blood. 
It was a more meaty bone, not snapping or breaking beneath his jaw as easily. He tugged, fangs sunk in, and felt Fresh lift slightly with his effort; the rib didn’t snap. 
A slight keen rang out, pained and hurt, making him glance up to see Fresh’s face, tinted with blush, embarrassed. “Ah, sorry man. Letting the body go too much.”
“No no, that was wonderful…”
It pouted, “don’t compliment him, complement me.”
He leans in to nuzzle its face, rubbing his cheek against its, “it’s only as cute as it is because it’s your voice.”
Warmth bloomed where he was touching it, and he grinned. It was so easy.
He laughed, before leaning down to fit his teeth back in the grooves he’d left. He braced his hands against its shoulders and finally broke it. It dusted slower, first the edges; he even tasted the marrow for a moment. 
The body shivered under him, chest heaving with pain. He let his own chest press down against Fresh’s, feeling every quiver and wheeze. It was sweeter than any of the blood or dust he’d eaten, a flavoring to add to the more physical meal. 
He gently held the right, remaining clavicle between his fingers, feeling how frail and hollow it felt after weeks of being connected to Fresh, and snapped it. The body flinched against him, the sharp pained zap of echoing into the air.
The parasite let out another hiss, and he cooed sweet praises as he continued. Carefully removing more of that clavicle with his hands until he had better access to the rib he’d been aiming for. 
“Just one more.”
“Better be.” It let out a noise between a huff and wheeze.
Settling his teeth around this one, he just nibbles and scraped at it instead of trying to yank it out. Putting pressure until he punctured it to marrow, he got a better opportunity to taste the flavour before it turned to dust in his mouth.
Fresh kicked one of its legs, though it didn't otherwise struggle. He couldn’t tell if it was the host or parasite that was starting to find this too much, the air was so highly saturated with distress. 
He lapped at the wounds gently, though with the way it still squirmed under him he knew it to be painful, before finally leaning back and looking at the mess he’d made of Fresh and its host.
It was covered in blood, breathing hard. Delightfully, the corner of its eye-sockets held tears. The rest of its expression seemed mostly sleepy or bored though, only a tad pinched; it was probably just its host once more. Still, he couldn’t help but find them so cute.
“Thank you, my dear,” he smiled, wiping the blood from his face. 
It grumbled, “I didn’t think you’d take so much.”
“What, do you think your body will dust in the night?” He cupped its cheek, voice sickly sweet.
It narrowed its eyes, but leaned in anyway, “if I do, change the terms to breakfast in bed too.”
He laughed, “of course. I’ll keep that in mind for tomorrow, for now… let’s just get some sleep.”
It huffed at his seeming lack of remorse, but was quick to bring its arms around him. The movements were jerky and stiff, either from the lack of magic or the way it had cut control, but that didn’t stop its octopus-like hug.
In turn, he curled more comfortably over it, settling his head near its neck again he used one of his tentacles to pull the blankets over them. 
He made a pleased noise, stretching comfortably out over the larger monster, “you make a nice bed. Maybe I should keep you here.”
It tightened its grip, and he could feel it smiling, “well, weighted blankets are pretty rad.”
He tightened his grip, putting more pressure on it. It relaxes even further under him. He really should do this more often. He could barely remember what had gotten him so frustrated.
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Home (Sam Winchester x female reader x Dean Winchester)
Dean’s away from the bunker, but then he face-times you just as you and Sam are getting busy. It would be rude not to answer, right?
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Read it on AO3
My 2024 Kinktober series
Rated E. 2.7k words. Sexy face-time (as in, a video call). Sexy-face time (as in, it's Dean with the sexy face calling). Sam doing the most. Polyamory. Happy & healthy relationship. Brotherly banter.
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Dean’s gone to help Jody and the girls with a case, but he’s only away for three days, which is why there were no plans for anything sexy involving him in that time. It just so happens that he face-times you while Sam’s head is between your legs and you’re about to come for the third time because that’s just how Sam gets when he has you to himself.
Your ringtone breaks through the other noises in the room, which are dominated by the sound of Sam’s wet mouth on your very wet pussy and your own moans and panting. You wouldn’t pay an incoming call any attention considering what you’re doing, but Dean has his own ringtone (Eye of the tiger, of course; his idea, not yours). You have barely been able to talk since he left, except for one quick check-in the day he got there. That’s part of the reason you answer. The other is that the image of having Dean on the phone while Sam is making you come yet again just seems like a good idea in general.
You’re a second too late (blame it on the two intense orgasms) to remember that even though it’s late, it is very much possible that Dean might be with Jody and the girls right now, and that the first thing they see when you pick up is a shot of your face and tits, ravished in ecstasy. That would have been very awkward to say the least, but luckily, it’s only Dean.
He’s in the guest bedroom, looking down at something while he’s waiting for you to answer, but the moment he hears your labored breathing he looks at the screen. A slow grin and a glint in his eyes follow soon.
“This a bad time?” he asks, when he can clearly tell that his is the best time. You bite your lip. You missed his face, the freckles and his beautiful lips. The life-affirming smile.
“Depends,” you breathe, running your free hand into Sam’s hair and giving Dean a look down your body at where the brunette mop is moving between your thighs. “Were you calling for anything specific?”
You can see Dean lean back against the headboard. He’s not wearing headphones, so you hope he has his phone’s volume turned down enough that you don’t need to worry about being quiet. Not that you really could with Sam’s tongue doing what it’s doing.
“I was kinda hoping you’d send me some nudes so I could jerk off,” Dean says casually, making you grin. “But this is much better. Dinner and a show.”
Sam’s lips move off you, which is disappointing, but you know he can only listen to his brother talk so much nonsense before he needs to comment. He kisses the inside of your thigh, then looks up.
“Heya Sammy,” Dean says with a wave of his hand and you snort-laugh. Sam rolls his eyes and you turn the phone back on yourself, on your face.
“Don’t take it personally, he’s kinda busy,” you say as Sam kisses your thigh again. Dean clicks his tongue.
“He’s always had bad manners,” he says.
“Hey!” Sam replies and you look down at him. “You two mind?” You shake your head, all clueless innocence.
“I don’t mind,” you quip and it earns you a gentle nip at the soft skin of your thigh.
“Are you gonna fuck anytime soon?” Dean asks. “Not that I don’t like seeing you like this, baby, but I’m hard as a rock over here.” You think for a second, and then a thought comes to you.
“What do you think we should do, Dean?” you ask, the fluttering of your eyelashes and the pursing of your lips making it very clear what you mean. You look down at Sam and he raises his eyebrows, intrigued.
Dean, meanwhile, is definitely interested, so much so that you’re pretty sure that if he had both hands free, he would be rubbing them together in anticipation.
“Did you already come?” he asks and you nod.
“Come on, dude,” Sam mutters, offended that he would even feel the need to ask.
“Prop the phone up so I can see you,” Dean continues, unperturbed by his little brother’s commentary. “And then get on your front. Have Sam straddle you.”
You push yourself up, lean the phone against the lamp on the night table and then turn over. You wiggle down the bed a little so that most of your upper body and your ass are in the picture. You watch Dean move as well, switch his phone to his other hand, probably undo his jeans.
“Show me,” you say with a smile, while Sam is pushing himself up as well behind you. Dean angles the phone down, shows you his erection, fist already slowly pumping, and he wasn’t lying, he is hard as a rock.
“Now what were you thinking about to get yourself into this state?” you chide him jokingly, and then Sam kisses your shoulder, rubs his hand over your ass cheek.
“Your boobs,” Dean answers and you feel the dismay pouring off Sam.
“You’re a poet, De—okay, you can stop showing your junk,” Sam complains, making you laugh. You press yourself up so you’re resting on your elbows, turn around to Sam as much as possible.
“What about your junk?” you ask, and since you’re able to get away with a lot more stuff than Dean, Sam chuckles.
“Incoming,” he says, and one of his arms is holding him up while he’s leaning over you, the other goes between your bodies as you know he’s stroking himself, getting ready for you. As per Dean’s instructions, he’s straddling you high on your legs, your closed thighs between his. You look back at Dean. He nods towards you.
“Get the little purple one,” he says and you grin, then reach to the top drawer of the night table. You rummage through it for a second, then find the small bullet vibrator Dean is referring to.
Sam’s always been pro toys, but Dean had to warm up to them, at least until he realized how he could make you scream and shake with some assistance. Ever since, new ones have been showing up at the bunker every few weeks. But you can’t beat a classic.
You move a little, turn on the vibrator and position it between you and the mattress so that it hits your clit. You rub yourself against it, barely touching and throw another look back at Sam. He notices you watching and grins, leans forward to kiss your cheek.
“Impatient?” he asks, his breath fanning over your face, the tip of his cock bumping into your ass. “You want me?” You raise your hand to run it over Sam’s cheek and jaw.
“Always,” you respond, pushing your ass up a little to spurn him on, but Sam always takes the time he wants, not least of all because he enjoys watching you want him.
“I wanted porn, not a soap opera,” Dean complains and you chuckle, and so does Sam, although reluctantly. Still, he moves up a little, and then you can feel him press between your thighs and press into you, your nearly closed legs making him feel even bigger than he is.
He’s still leaning down, kissing you behind your ear and you have to close your eyes at the feeling, although it means no longer seeing Dean. Sam presses as far into you as the position allows, sighing contentedly when his hips meet your ass.
“How is it, Sam?” Dean asks and in response, Sam rolls his hips, making you moan.
“Nice and tight,” Sam replies, continuing the rolling motion. “Fuck, this feels good.” You hear Dean chuckle and you blink your eyes open to look at him again. He’s watching intently, but you can see his shoulder moving while he’s stroking himself.
“Raise your ass up a little, sweetheart, use a pillow” he says and Sam slows so you can move. You grab a pillow from the top of the bed, shove it under yourself to lift your lower body, secure the vibrator in its new position. Then Sam is moving again and your eyelids flutter shut while you feel a goofy grin spread on your face. You would prefer having Dean there in the room with you, but having his voice – and direction there – is the next best thing.
Instead of rolling Sam now begins thrusting, the feeling of the head of his cock stimulating you more intense, and every time he pushes into you it pushes your clit harder against the vibrator. You fist your hands into the sheets and concentrate on the incredible feeling. 
“Sammy making you feel good, darlin’?” Dean asks, and despite the technological barrier you feel his deep, rough voice make a shudder pass through you. You nod, not willing to speak but preferring to concentrate on what the rhythm of Sam’s motions is doing to you, but Dean can see the answer on your face. “Yeah, you love it, don’t you?”
“You feel so good,” Sam says in a low voice, pressing his nose into the hair at the back of your neck. “So soft and perfect.” His words make you moan and you arch your back. Sam sees your eagerness and speeds up.
“I’m gonna—” you moan, the intense pleasure in you building to a sharp crescendo. “Oh God, I’m gonna—”
And then you do, thighs shaking, body tensed, moaning at the top of your voice. One of Sam’s hands goes to your hip as if to steady you, probably because you are desperately clenching down on him.
“Fuck,” he grunts as he drives you through your climax, prolonging the pleasure and then he leans further forward, his chest pressing against your back, his hips pistoning faster. He presses his face into the side of your neck.
“I’m gonna come so fucking hard inside you,” he grunts, his words and the continued driving into you keeping you high. All you can really do is grab his hand where it’s resting on the mattress, run your fingers between his in the hope that that is enough to hold on to, Sam’s weight looming over you intensely erotic.
“So good, don’t stop,” you plead, just before Dean says: “Come on, sweetheart, I know you got another one in you.”
Sam groans at the words, but he’s not one to deny his brother his wishes, especially since he has the luxury of actually being there with you, inside of you, while Dean only has his hand. Plus Sam always likes to challenge himself physically, so he takes a deep breath to control his own orgasm. He pushes you down a little harder with the hand on your hip and it pushes you harder against the vibrator, which makes you flinch until you lean into it.
Sam’s fucking you fast and hard now, and he’s breathing even harder, but you know he’s not going to let go until you’ve come again. You don’t have to worry though, because another orgasm is already announcing itself. You drop your head, forehead pressed into the mattress as you whine high in your throat.
 “Ah, come on, baby,” Sam pants over you, and the strain in his voice is so hot it hurts, and then Dean says: “You’re doing so good, you can do it.” And that’s it.
You’re practically vibrating, and no sounds leave you for a moment. Your hand squeezes Sam’s so hard that you’ll probably have to apologize later and then what comes out of you is half sob, half scream, your brain melting right there on the spot.
Sam’s only a few seconds behind you, your orgasm his go to come as well, and he holds himself deep inside you, his grunts loud and uncontrolled in your ear as he presses himself as close to you as he can. Your entire body is buzzing, and every spot where your skin touches Sam’s feels like it’s being kissed by sunlight. Your head lands on the mattress, face turned toward the side table but your eyes are closed, blissful lightness coursing through you.
Sam meanwhile is leaning against you, his forehead on your temple while he tries to slow his breathing, the air coming out of him and the ends of his hair that’s fallen from behind his ears tickling you deliciously. A satisfies mmh leaves you and you can feel him grin when he moves just a little so that he can kiss your cheek and jaw.
“Guys?” you suddenly hear and you blink yourself out of it as Sam stirs as well. Despite your exhaustion, you have to giggle when you look at the night table.
The phone’s fallen over, probably from Sam’s hard thrusting, making the bed shake, the table along with it, and Dean is looking at the ceiling. Sam sees it too and chuckles, then presses himself up, slipping out of you.
“Oops,” he says and you know he’s only a little sorry.
You reach over and pick up the phone, turn it so that you can look at Dean while Sam drops with his back on the mattress next to you.
“Sorry about that,” you grin, still unable to lift your head. “Did you come?” Dean gives a shit-eating grin that lets you know he did.
“I like the visuals,” he says, “but you make a helluva podcast.” You giggle, then turn serious.
“When are you coming back?” you ask. Dean tilts his head.
“Probably day after tomorrow,” he says. “But I’ll be breaking every speed limit to come home to you as quickly as possible.” Home. It makes you smile.
All of a sudden, you feel Sam reach over you. He wraps his arm around you and pulls you against him, making you lie on your side. He slings one leg over you, nuzzling your neck.
“I’ll keep her warm until you’re back, Dean,” he says, and you see Dean make a face. The gloom you sometimes see in Sam always disappears after you’ve had sex, and he can become downright silly. You love this side of him, but it’s sometimes to Dean’s detriment. Right now, for example.
“Don’t rub it in,” he says now. “I’m the one who’s gonna have to sleep in a cold, empty bed tonight.” It’s a little dramatic, but just cute enough that you don’t roll your eyes.
“Not for long,” you say and it makes Dean smile softly.
“And I’m gonna make up for lost time when I’m back,” Dean points out, then nods at where Sam is still behind you. “Maybe Sasquatch gets to watch next time.” You open your mouth to reply, but then Sam reaches over you, laying his hand over yours where it’s holding the phone.
“I think you’re going through a tunnel,” he says and Dean says: “Hey!” You see Sam’s finger hovering over the red button.
“Love you, baby,” you giggle. “Come home soon.” Dean smiles.
“I love you too,” he replies. Then his gaze shifts a little, and in a deadpan voice he adds: “Say you love me, Sam.” You start giggling just as Sam groans.
“Good night, Dean,” he answers instead, and then he does hang up. He takes the phone from your hand, long arms reaching far enough to put in on the night table, and then he wraps you up tightly, face pressed against the back of your neck. You hum at the feeling.
“We should clean up,” you mumble, even though the thought of getting up is downright depressing, with so much warm and soft Sam all around you, your tired body being pulled down into sleep.
“In a minute,” Sam mutters, and he sounds as tired as you. “Just a little longer.” You run your hands over his arms, hug him back as much as you can from your position.
Dean’s back two days later. You don’t ask him what laws exactly he broke to make it home so quickly, instead preferring to pull him in and kiss him deeply.
That night, Sam tells you and Dean what to do, but this time you get to fall asleep with both of them next to you.
Home.
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changbinsboobs · 3 days ago
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heyyy boobie can you please do readings about skz’s first love and first time 🫶🏻🫶🏻 loads of love 💕
Hello:) luv you too💗 so i'm gonna do just the hyung line for now cuz the reading turned out to be way longer than i expected but i'm gonna try and do the maknae line soon too.
Also idk why but notice how their readings progressively get longer and longer🥲😂
Skz first love + first time (Hyung Line)
Chan
First love - this is actually really sweet, i think his first love was when he was a child and it was for an "older woman". I'm getting the vibe of a babysitter maybe. Or the daughter of friends of the family, maybe an elder cousin something of that sort. A young woman that has spent time caring for him and giving him attention. She was very wise in his eyes. All-knowing, gentle, feminine, motherly & very beautiful. That's how he saw her.
First time - as for his first time, it was obviously not with his first love😂 but it's actually not a laughing matter - cuz i think he's really unhappy with his first time. I'm seeing regret...not necessarily disappointment but idk it feels like he's stained? But let me explain from the beginning. So i think his first time was with someone that wasn't really interested in him, i'm not really seeing his side here, but what i'm seeing is that they are very incompatible and were most likely fighting all the time. If this was a relationship it was probably very short lived and very toxic. I'm not seeing much about him age-wise but the whole energy of the cards leads me to believe he was in his teenage years...between child and man (thats what i heard).
Lee Know
First love - I'm not really getting much about the person here and i can see very well why. Those two don't know each other. And i mean that literally, this person doesn't know who lee know is. At least back then, maybe even still. I keep going back to the tought that this might be a celebrity? Or even a fictional character? Cuz I'm seeing this happening in his mid teenage years and i think this may have been during his depression phase that stupid ass puberty gives you. He seem to be in a very dark place during this time, being very defensive, seeing the negative rather than the positive, being very overwhelmed. Like half of the cards that are drew (even if not meant for him) show his state of mind back then. And all of this kind of makes me think that this was a very glorified person in his mind. Someone that seemed very graceful, very mature & wise. Strong mentally & physically and just above it all. He seemed to idolize this person from whatever he has seen from them.
First time - So here i'm seeing this person being a peer of his and i'm not really seeing a relationship here...like of any kind. I don't even think those 2 were friends...maybe just acquaintances? And maybe the boomshakalaka happened pretty quickly after their meeting cuz i'm seeing them not really knowing each other. The deed wen't well and i think he's pretty content with his first time and i think he really liked the person, at least sexually. I think they really got him going. As for the other person towards him...eghh idk i got the death card and i'm not really feeling great vibes😅 i think they didn't really like him much in the first place but did it for the plot and then after they didn't like him even more, but i think it may be due to his inexperience and im hearing "a for effort". Also i think this was also in his teenage years tho i think he was younger than chan for sure. For example if chan was 17-18, I'm seeing lee know being 14-15.
Changbin
First love - He also doesn't seem like one that had success with his first live, i'm seeing this being a person that was very work focused, and maybe didn't really pay attention to him cuz they had other priorities. Their relationship may have been either a friendship one or one of mutual support, so i definitely see them having interactions often and seeing the other quite often too. They are/were probably in the same circles or even the same friend group for a while. Also i'm seeing this happening when he was already older and more mature...like 21 maybe...which really surprises me cuz i was soo sure he was one to start with love really early at like 10-14 falling in love, having girlfriends, crushes all the time, and also having his first time pretty early. So definitely his reading is a huge surprise to me, for now he's the latest bloomer. Anyways for his first live, i think this was also someone that really got him going, i'm seeing lots if sexual attraction and desire, i think at some point it was really difficult for him to hold back and i think he did confess and try to get them, but they refused. I think he felt awful after the rejection. (Duh) I think this was the first time he started thinking about the future with a love interest and fantasizing about having a family and growing old together and all that jazz. Also i think his family knew who this person was and i think they knew he liked them and i think they have been consoling him and giving him strength through his (first actual love) rejection.
First time - here i'm seeing his first time being with someone that really fancied him snd was in love with him. He on the other hand wasn't but he found the person cute and lovely/adorable and they were probably younger than him, or at least he saw them that way. Tbh i'm very confused on what the relationship between them was, and not to get too risky but im kind of getting the vibe this might've been a trainee from back then or something of that sort. Cuz i'm seeing their relationship being work related or that they know each other from work - and as we all know the idol stuff is changbins first and only work experience. Also with the star and a few other cards i'm getting the vibe that this person might've idolized him a bit or even giving me a bit of fan vibes? Also i'm seeing him being still a teen, but in the late stage of it. More like young adult, like a bit older than chan. I would say 18-19 maybe. Anyways, as for the shabang - i'm seeing it wennt pretty well actually and i think it spiked his interest in sex and he may have thought about it or fantasized about it quite a lot after. I'm also seeing this could mean that he also started fantasizing about other people too, now that he actually knows how it all feels and how it goes etc. His feelings about the experience seem pretty mature - like he aknowledges its his first time and it maybe wasn't the best, and that his next few times might not be the best either but experience builds confidence and makes the master so he knows and feels confident that future times would go great and fulfill his needs and expectations. The other person's feelings i can't really pick up on that well, but i think in the long run they have used him as comparison or if they have already had sex before, they compared him to other people they have been with and both judged him for shortcomings but also appreciated him for what he was good at.
Hyunjin
First love - Ok so for his first love i got the queen of swords. It's someone introverted and cold, closed of - its a very ice queen energy. He on the other hand was very eager towards this person and has probably pursued them for some time, openly showing his live and affection for them until they said yes. Cuz i'm actually seeing him succeeding in getting them into a relationship. I think they went on for quite a while and did have a pretty good relationship. Also im kinda getting the feeling that his first time might be with this person too. Also idk about his age back then but he seems to be more mature so i would say 20-21.
First time - Ok this energy is very weird...? I don't even know where to begin with. So what i know for sure is that hyunjin initiated the sex. And that he was very eager and maybe even a bit pushy? I'm seeing him also being really impulsive and doing it on a whim. I'm also seeing him really regretting it. Idk if what i got in the cards is his feeling about his first time back than, or his feeling now, but he says his first time was shit, it was horrible and when i asked individually (the person and him) he also said it was horrible and he really regrets it and the whole thing has just left a very bad, bitter taste in him. At first i thought it was just bad cuz of no chemistry, but then the more cards i pulled & the more i looked into it i think there's much more than bad sex there. In fact i don't even think the sex was bad, cuz from the other person's pov it was good, and idk what kind of weird message that is but im getting something of the sort "one would normally pay money for that". Anyways - as i said the messages here are very scattered and don't reslly answer the questions i asked clearly, but are just message son their own and i have to piece the story together - regardless of what i asked. And if i habe to make a wild guess, i think he may have cheated on his partner, or the person he slept with may have cheated on his partner, ir maybe he slept with someone that a friend of him liked - something if that sort. I'm seeing there being something like a love triangle, possibly a messy friend circle situation, regret, impulsiveness, again very very strong regret, like i think he sat in a corner after that for a few days/nights and just wallowed in his own pity or something (we all know how dramatic he is) and also something i find interesting is that the other person doesn't really seem that affected by the drama - i'm just seeing them eventually getting on bad terms with him cuz of his reaction and behaviour afterwards. Like how he dealt with the situation. Im also seeing him being very confused snd not really knowing what to do, how to act, and basicly not really being sure if anything - probably also being swayed/persuaded easily, or manipulated easily. Overall this situation seems very, VERY messy. And tbh i don't even think he was all that young when it happened and im actually a bit surprised - considering the immature nature/energy of the reading here - but i would say he was in the 17-19 age range. I think this was both a bit of a trauma for him but also a learning and character building experience that overall turned out for the better in the long run cuz now he's more cautious (even if sometimes overly so) and doesn't act so impulsively on his feelings & urges.
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fred-the-god · 1 day ago
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Don't mind me, I'm just about to do some character analysis over a fucking "hear me out cake" video
Ok so, the dragon bit is just really funny, even just surface level
Remus: I mean no-one else is gonna do a dragon right?
*Janus immediately putting an objectively more questionable dragon*
Vigil at the end: I didn't know dragons were on the table?!?!
I mean it's just haha funny. But if you start reading into it, you get more
So like, first off I think it's funny to think that Virgil's "didn't know dragons were on the table" is because it's supposed to be "hear me out"s, all your weird questionable picks. And to him, dragons are just not that weird.
Now a bit about what this means for remus. He's trying very hard to be seen as "weird, chaotic, unpredictable and gross" like truly outlandish, but he's not actually that "crazy". Like he's all "yeah no-ones gonna do this, it's so outlandish and weird" only to be followed up with someone having a wackier version of his pick, and it not even really being played up at all. And then someone thinking it was so vanilla it wasn't even an option! And also when he's like "no-one else has said daddy yet right?" Even though Janus already did.
He desperately wants to be perceived as outrageous, but some of the things he thinks are so outrageous really aren't. I just think it's really fascinating, and think you could definitely get more out of that. And It also sorta shows how both creativities desperately want to be original.
Also, in my heart Virgil is a tublrina, and his sensitivities on what's acceptable to be interested in is very skewed because of that. I just find it really funny to think about Remus trying to be quirky being all "I wanna fuck vampires, werewolves, demons, and dragons" and Virgil going "bitch that's basic! Everybody does" and various reactions ensue. Like Virgil is so used to people wanting to fuck a triangle that a dragon is just a no-brainer.
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diminuel · 3 days ago
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(The family tree just keeps getting crazier)
Rock's tries introducing Luffy to his old crew members only to find out they*kinda* already know each other 😓
LUFFY: SHE'S EVIL!!!
Rock's: don't say that little pebble, she's your great-auntie Linlin.
Luffy: SHE'S NOT MY AUNTIE! SHE TRIED TO TAKE SANJI AWAY FROM ME!!!
Rock: Linlin~ why did you try to steal my grandson's crew member?
Big mom: it wasn't about the boy. I was aiming for his father.
Rock's: oh? ...Who's the kids father?
Big mom: Judge.
Rock's: that Vinsmoke guy? Ew~
I wonder what kind of encounter Rocks might have had with Judge to give him the "ew" stamp of disapproval! Judge was 18 when God Valley happened, so he probably did not know him from back then. He must have checked him out at one point during his travels when he figured out what happened to his old crew (Stussy was part of Mads after all, like Judge). Rocks might have been interested in the research but maybe just found the guy kind of insufferable for some reason or another *lol*
But back to Linlin and Luffy! I don't think Rocks would be particularly bothered about a feud between pirates, it's only understandable that someone who is aiming for the top like Luffy would make enemies in high places. Maybe Linlin at least understands now just why this freaky rubber boy is so strong. Of course he is with Rocks' blood! But that also means that Rocks' child must have survived. Does that mean the marriage between the kid and a Charlotte sibling is still on? Surely the kid is still young enough to produce another, even better, grandchild for Linlin!
Rocks, probably: "I wish." (He likes Dragon, but is still bitter about the Monkey D. line usurping his own.)
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kefiteria · 14 hours ago
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Denial: As If It Were a Choice
Azul Ashengrotto x Reader
tags: fluff, inspired by azul 2024 bday card voiceline
summary: Azul was in complete denial. Your genuine interest and honesty about pursuing him romantically left him utterly confused. A date at the local fair? This had to be some kind of love scam—or worse, an elaborate mlm scheme. Right?
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“How wonderful love is. It creates so many problems for folks that they have to come to someone like ME for help.”
Hypocrisy at its finest. Even Daedalus, the master craftsman, would laugh himself into the sun at the tangled mess Azul had just stepped into. Even Orpheus, after failing to retrieve Eurydice, would pat Azul on the back and say, “That’s rough, buddy.”
Because he, Azul Ashengrotto, was supposed to be the schemer. The one who spotted every loophole, exploited every weakness, and ensured that no deal was ever made against his favor.
And yet—
“You’re working hard as always, Azul!”
Azul flinched. He had been so engrossed in reviewing contracts that he hadn’t even noticed you enter.
“How did you—? Who let you—? How did you get in here?!” he snapped, immediately sitting up straight.
“Oh! Jade said I could just enter.” you replied, smiling like you hadn't just shattered every security protocol Azul had in place.
Feeling the betrayal seep into his bones, he knew those damn eels had sold him out. But before he could even begin plotting revenge, you spoke again—
Completely derailed his entire existence.
“I'm pursuing you!”
Azul instantly short-circuited. His brain did the mental equivalent of a blue screen.
“You’re WHAT?!”
“Romantically!” You clasped your hands together, beaming like this was normal human behavior. “That’s why I’m inviting you to the fair this weekend. Oh! They have fried chicken, by the way! I know you like it.”
Azul’s eye twitched violently. What— what was this?
A love scam? An elaborate multi-level marketing scheme? Some previously undiscovered pyramid scheme where he was the target instead of the orchestrator?!
No—NO. That wasn’t possible. He would have noticed the signs. The recruitment tactics. The suspiciously friendly invitations.
… Wait.
Was this one of those forbidden love spells he had always been so careful to avoid?!
Or worse.
Had someone abused a loophole in a contract he hadn’t accounted for?
His hands flew to his coat, patting his pockets as if a cursed contract would fall out. Did someone sell his own heart to this absolute menace in front of him?!
Is this how it feels to be scammed! IS THIS HOW HIS CLIENTS FELT?! Azul folded his arms, narrowing his eyes at you like you had just offered him a fraudulent stock investment.
“What’s your angle?” he demanded.
You blinked. “Huh?”
“This—” He waved a hand wildly between the two of you. “—This business transaction—!”
“Confession.”
“—This confession transaction—”
“Just confession.”
“—This blatant attempt at fraud—!”
You tilted your head. “It’s not fraud? I just like you. That’s it!”
He now felt something deep within his soul fracture.
“You’re too honest.” he muttered, rubbing his temple as if trying to ward off the migraine of the century.
“Yep!” You nodded enthusiastically. “Gotta make a good foundation, y’know?”
Azul’s soul nearly exited his body. A good foundation.
A GOOD FOUNDATION.
WHAT WAS THIS, A BUSINESS MERGER?!
WHAT SORT OF ADVANCED EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION TECHNIQUE WAS THIS?!?!
“This isn't how romance works.” Azul hissed, as if saying it aloud would somehow reverse time. “Where’s the fine print? The hidden agenda? The careful deception?!”
You blinked. “Oh! I mean, consent is cool! And so are choices! You can totally reject the date if you don’t want to. No pressure! Just lemme know once you’re done thinking, okay?”
“Done thinking—” He exhaled sharply, gripping his desk as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. “You—you expect me to think about this?!”
“Well, yeah! Big decisions need proper thinking time!”
BIG DECISIONS.
Azul can feel a second overblot forming, all from this nonsense.
You gave him a cheerful little wave. “Alright, see you tomorrow, Azul! Take your time!”
He sat there, paralyzed, as you exited like you hadn’t just tossed his entire worldview into some deepest trench. This had to be some kind of conspiracy. It had to be.
There was no way someone would just walk into his office, declare their romantic pursuit, and leave. So he just stared at the contract on his desk. The ink had smudged from how hard he had been gripping his pen.
His hand was shaking because the horrifying, gut-wrenching truth was—
You were being completely serious.
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Azul had absolutely not come to this fair for a date.
Absolutely. Not.
This was market research. Yes, that’s all it was. He was simply here to observe seasonal trends, analyze consumer behavior, and assess potential menu additions for the Mostro Lounge.
The fact that you had invited him was purely incidental. The fact that he had dressed well was merely a reflection of his natural sophistication. The fact that he had spent far too long thinking about what to say to you was… irrelevant.
This was a professional outing. Nothing more.
At least, that was what he kept repeating to himself, right until the moment he saw you waving at him, beaming with an enthusiasm so bright it made him squint.
“Azul! You really came!”
Your excitement was unreasonably infectious, and before he could even formulate a proper response, you were already standing in front of him, looking genuinely happy to see him. He cleared his throat, adjusting his gloves as if the motion alone could help him regain his composure.
“I had business to attend to.” he said smoothly.
You raised your eyebrow, questioning his reply. “At a fair?”
“Yes.” he replied without hesitation. “As an entrepreneur, it's only natural to study popular market trends and analyze consumer interests.”
“Right, right, of course.” you nodded, completely unfazed. “Well, thank you for accepting my invitation!”
Azul froze like those fishes in the mostro lounge freezer in the kitchen. No. No, no, no—
He had, in fact, accepted your invitation. Which, by definition, meant— THIS WAS A DATE.
A headache bloomed in his temples as realization hit him like a tidal wave. He had been so focused on maintaining a logical excuse for being here that he had overlooked the most crucial detail: he had willingly agreed to spend time with you outside any contractual obligation.
This wasn’t a negotiation. This wasn’t a business meeting. There was no deal to be made.
So why was he here?
His thoughts were spiraling so quickly that he barely noticed you taking his hand and tugging him forward. “Come on! No pressure, let's just walk around and enjoy the fair, okay?”
No pressure? No pressure?! Azul wanted to scream. What kind of business tactic was this? You were just walking in, completely unarmed, with no ulterior motives? What kind of hidden agenda was this?
He had spent years mastering the art of deception, yet here you were, casually obliterating his defenses with nothing but pure, unfiltered sincerity. It was unnatural. Suspicious, even.
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The fair was lively, bustling with chatter and laughter, but Azul was beginning to wonder if he had made a critical mistake in coming along. Everything had been manageable so far—mildly inconvenient, sure, but manageable—until you suddenly stopped in your tracks, eyes lighting up like you had just found buried treasure.
“Oh! A mushroom stall!”
Azul’s stomach dropped.
You practically skipped over, marveling at the selection of freshly foraged mushrooms, mushroom skewers, mushroom pies, and— Azul's blood ran cold—wild mushroom soup.
Why? Why did it have to be mushrooms?
Of all things, why did it have to be Jade’s most beloved fungi, the very ingredient Azul and Floyd had fought so hard to exile from the Monstro Lounge?
Before he could even think of an escape route, you turned to him, eyes shining.
“Want to try?”
Azul had never regretted a decision faster in his entire life.
Mushrooms. He hated mushrooms.
Not just in a casual, mild dislike way—no. This was a deep-rooted, visceral loathing forged from years of being subjected to Jade’s endless, borderline cultish enthusiasm for fungi.
Jade had force-fed him so many varieties, ranted about textures, aroma, umami, and gods-knew-what-else that Azul had developed a knee-jerk reaction to the mere sight of mushrooms. It was to the point that he had banned them from the Monstro Lounge entirely.
So when you enthusiastically ordered a bowl of mushroom soup, took a careful sip, but— your damn smile. Blasphemy!
Not just any smile. That smile. The one that made Azul’s mind go blank for a second too long, the one that messed with his judgment in ways he refused to acknowledge.
He should’ve just said no. He should’ve walked away.
Instead—
“Right…" Azul found himself saying. WHY? WHY WAS HE LIKE THIS.
You beamed at him like he had just agreed to some sacred pact of mushroom enlightenment. “See! It’s amazing, right? Fresh mushrooms have a way better depth of flavor!"
No. He did not see. There was no flavor except suffering.
Though somehow, Azul was now holding a spoon.
He stared at the soup like it contained his entire downfall. The rich, earthy scent mocked him, reminding him of every terrible mushroom-related experience Jade had ever inflicted upon him.
With the grace of a man walking to his execution, Azul lifted the spoon to his lips and took a sip.
… It was tolerable. Barely.
But before he could think better of it, before he could stop himself from digging his own grave even deeper—
“It’s good.” he said. Lies. Deception. Betrayal—his own betrayal.
And then, Jade’s voice echoed in his head.
“Oh? It seems you’re finally appreciating mushrooms, Azul. How delightful.”
A chill ran down his spine. He nearly dropped the spoon. He had to get out of here and need a palate cleanser after this.
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As the two of you continued strolling, who had been quietly observing—suddenly tilted your head. “Are you tired from all that walking? I think merfolk might feel slightly weird after walking too much on two legs.”
This was an ambush!
He immediately straightened his posture, adjusting his glasses with practiced ease. “A businessman must always be prepared to handle different environments. This is hardly enough to affect me.”
Before you could press further, he quickly redirected the conversation by gesturing toward a woodcarver’s stall. “Look at that craftsmanship. A fine display of artisanal skill.”
Your attention shifted as you spotted a pair of octopus-shaped keychains carved from driftwood, complete with tiny pearls embedded in their tentacles. Your eyes sparkled with excitement as you grabbed them. “Azul! Matching keychains!”
Azul internally winced. How many times had he convinced love struck customers to buy exactly this kind of sentimental nonsense at Mostro Lounge? This was an absurdly cliché romantic gesture.
Nevertheless, his fingers moved on their own, smoothly retrieving his wallet and paying for them before he even processed what he was doing. “Wait. What?”
Why did he do that so naturally? Where was his resistance? This was a scam. A love scam. Brand new tactics!
Meanwhile, you simply smiled brightly at him. “Now we match! Thanks, Azul!”
Azul sighed, rubbing his temple. Too late to back out now.
To make matters worse, you suddenly turned toward a food stall and, without hesitation, bought a portion of fried chicken—with your own money. You returned with an eager grin, handing him a bag. “Here! Since I mentioned this when I invited you, it’d be unfair if I didn’t fulfil it!”
His pride was hurting. Both as a businessman and as a man in general. He was the one who should be paying. He was always the one in control of deals. Yet, here you were, giving him something so happily, without any ulterior motive.
“… Thank you.” he said, taking a bite. “Damn it, it was delicious.” he thought to himself.
The next stop was an exotic animal stall, where vibrant birds, fluffy rodents, and even small reptiles were displayed. Azul found himself absentmindedly discussing the market value of rare creatures.
“These birds—while striking—are often smuggled illegally, making them highly valuable in underground auctions.” he remarked, adjusting his glasses. “Of course, with the right contacts, their worth could—”
He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed your expression. You were simply chuckling, utterly amused.
“What?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“You sound like a merchant debating rare treasure, but you mean well.” you replied with a knowing smile. “It’s kind of charming.”
Azul felt his face heat up. This was dangerous. This definitely a scam. A perfectly crafted, terrifyingly effective love scam. And the worst part? He had willingly walked into it.
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As time passes, the sky had begun its slow descent into dusk, painting the fairgrounds in warm hues of gold and violet. Lanterns flickered to life, their soft glow reflecting in Azul’s glasses as he found himself still by your side, a realization that should have alarmed him more than it did.
You turned to him, expression bright despite the long day. “Did you have fun today?”
Fun? That wasn’t something he usually factored into his outings. Business, market research, calculated investments—those were justifications. But fun? He was supposed to be scrutinizing every stall, noting trends, mentally categorizing what could benefit Mostro Lounge.
Hypocrisy shines through, here he was, hands full of a wooden keychain, the lingering taste of fried chicken on his tongue, and an entire afternoon that had somehow slipped away.
Before he could even conjure up a proper response, you smiled, cutting through his internal debate with infuriating ease. “Thank you for spending time with me! I appreciate it a lot. Can I invite you again?”
Azul’s breath hitched? No, perhaps hyperventilating at this point. His instinct screamed at him to analyze, to look for the loophole, the hidden terms of this ‘invitation.’
But his mind betrayed him, replaying the way you had laughed at his muttered grumbling over mushrooms, the way you had beamed when handing him the fried chicken, the way you had listened—actually listened—to his ramblings about exotic animals instead of brushing them off.
He should have walked away. He should have redirected, refused, twisted the situation in his favor.
Instead, he exhaled slowly, adjusting his glasses as he spoke.
“... No.”
The way your face faltered for a second almost made him smirk. Almost.
“Come to Mostro Lounge next Tuesday.” he continued, clearing his throat. “11 PM, after closing.” His fingers ghosted over the keychain you had chosen for him. A ridiculous, hand-carved octopus that he had somehow ended up paying for. “It’s… late for dinner, but I want it to be just us.”
It wasn’t an agreement. It wasn’t an answer for the confession. Just yet.
But the way your eyes lit up made him feel like he had already lost.
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