#and then when it does have a plot its like what if they breathe but its her BIRTHDAY

[sungbeam]

𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

nonidol!yoon jeonghan x gn!reader

2.3k words, fluff, comfort, reader is sick, technically a college au, light swearing, mentions of food, mentions of cold medication, tbh i know i advocate for platonic fics but i am also just a girl. so he does pine a little lol, slice-of-life-ish, barely proofread

a/n: there is like no plot, i just am feeling ooey-gooey about svt rn heh :') been watching so much gose recently and it's healing my soul

Yoon Jeonghan was many things, but oblivious was not one of them. “Oh my god, you're sick,” were his first words to you when you opened your apartment door. His voice was droning, perfectly unimpressed, but it masked the concern attempting to skirt its way to the surface. 

“It's not that” —your sorry attempt at denial crumbled like a house of cards as you turned away to cough into your elbow. The taste of metal lingered in the back of your throat and you winced, reaching into your bag to grab your water bottle. After swallowing down a generous helping, you said to him without looking him in the eye, “I'm fine.”

Jeonghan blinked. “That's really cute,” he replied with a thin smile. “Back inside.”

“But Jeonghan—”

“No.” He grabbed you firmly by your shoulders and steered you back into your apartment, his body waddling in behind you because of your balking in the doorway. He kicked the front door shut, shucking his shoes off with uncanny accuracy into an empty space on the shoe rack. “Shoes off, Yn-ah. Don't start an argument you won't win.”

You grumbled under your breath, but did as you were told. All the while, Jeonghan smoothed a hand over his jaw, performing mental gymnastics. How did you get sick? How much time did he have before he needed to get to campus? Could he reasonably make you soup before he needed to leave for his exam?

The first question was easy to answer. He internally smacked himself—last night: your runny nose, the vitamin C powder you added to your water, your shivers on the walk home from the library. Oh, fuck. He should have driven. Why did he make you both walk in that cold?

Guilt coursed through him as he directed you back into your bedroom. 

It was a quarter to 8, meaning he didn't have time to make you ramen and make it to his exam before the doors closed. 

“I have so much shit to do today” —another horrid cough rattled through you, and Jeonghan frowned to himself as he snatched the extra blanket out of your closet— “I can't… Hannie, there's so much I need to—”

“I know, Yn-ah,” he said softly, eyes sad and tender as he bundled you up in three layers until you were likely unable to unwrap yourself. He perched by your side, his palm grazing over your forehead to take your temperature. Hot. Not good. “But if you don't take care of yourself now, it'll only get worse.”

He glanced at his phone. Five to 8—he still had fifteen minutes. It was a blessing that you lived closer to campus than he did. 

“I hate when you're right,” you muttered. The lower half of your face was tucked beneath the edges of your blankets, so all he saw were your tired, glaring eyes. 

He smirked to himself, a fuzziness warming his chest. So petulant. “You always do,” he mused. “What did you have to do today? I'll try and help out as best I can.”

Your glare softened at the corners and your eyes flitted away from him. “It's okay. I'll deal with it all when I wake up. I—wait.” Your eyes shot wide open. “You have that exam today! You have to leave—what time is it?”

“Yah, I'll make it,” he laughed. “Worry about yourself.”

“You literally said last night that you were worried about failing—”

“And now I'm worried about you,” he countered. Satisfaction brought an impish twinkle to his eyes as you scowled at him again. “But fine, I'll leave if you insist.”

He rose from the edge of the bed, picking his backpack up to sling over his shoulder. 

“Thank you.”

With his back toward you, he could allow himself to grin. “What was that?” he called back innocently. 

“Don't fail.”

He huffed out another laugh as he reached the threshold of your bedroom doorway. Jeonghan wondered briefly if he should coax that thank you out of your mouth again, but he really did need to leave. It was awful. Everything in him was ready to throw away this exam to stay here with you. “Go to sleep, honey. I'll see you when you wake up.”

Three hours later, Jeonghan shouldered his way into your apartment, his backpack on his shoulders, his mind far away from that disgusting exam he finished, and his hands occupied with a grocery bag of items he picked up on his way here. When he left earlier, he had swiped your keys on the way out so he could let himself back in without waking you up. He dumped those very keys onto the table by the door, the gazillion key chains attached to the one carabiner clattering inelegantly loud. 

He glanced over at your closed door, hoping he didn't just wake you up. 

With a little less noise, he abandoned his backpack by the couch and made his way over to the kitchen. While he had made it in time to his exam, it had taken more willpower to center his attention on the exam itself rather than letting his mind wander to all the things he wanted to do after he was done. The to-do list spanned about five items: buy cold medicine and orange juice, decide on what food to make you, buy the ingredients for that food, persuade your TA to let him pick up your graded essay (that one, he saw on a sticky note by your desk), and come back to take care of you. 

(If the TA grading his exam took note of the small list he'd jotted down in the top corner of page five, no they didn't.)

There had been several ideas of what he could make you once he was free. He had stared at the row of vegetables in the produce department for a good ten minutes before he decided on something less usual. He could make instant ramen, but that didn't seem like the healthiest option for him to feed you. There was also seaweed soup—did he have the time to go to another store to find what he needed? No. 

His next great idea was something simple, but delicious: chicken noodle soup. 

Jeonghan rummaged around your cabinets, locating the things he needed—cutting board, knife—he opened a door and sighed to himself. So you did have pasta already. Great. 

He examined the box of dried elbow macaroni and compared it to the bowtie pasta he'd picked out. “Mine’s better,” he muttered, shelving your macaroni and bumping the cabinet closed. 

In the largest pot he could find, he brewed up a hearty chicken soup, using the bones from the rotisserie chicken he bought to add more richness to the broth's flavoring. Every carrot, onion, and celery stalk he sliced, and every piece of chicken he shredded, was done deftly and with great care. This was for you, after all, and if this soup could help you get better, then he would make it the best damn thing you'd ever tasted. 

There were plenty of things Jeonghan didn't want to do or weaseled his way out of, but he could be running on one hour of sleep, and he would still haul his ass up to make kimchi from scratch if you asked him to. 

He was stationed behind the stove, tasting the soup for adjustments, when he heard your bedroom door open. 

Jeonghan peered over his shoulder and smiled at the bundle of blankets waddling your way out into the main room, your hair sticking up in odd places, and your eyes still at half mast. “Good morning, sleepy head. How're you feeling?”

“Meh,” you said hoarsely, clearing your throat. You squinted at the sunlight streaming in through the open curtains. “What're you making? It smells nice.”

“Hm? Oh, I made you some soup. Go take the medicine on the counter and sit down; I'll bring you a bowl.”

As he reached over to grab another pinch of salt, he heard you tearing open the box of cold medicine behind him. 

A moment passed by of quiet, but his heart leapt straight into his throat as he felt a soft weight rest against his back. “Thank you, Hannie,” you murmured, forehead pressed between his shoulders. 

There were about a dozen things running through his mind at the moment—things he could say, things he could do. He was an ounce of willpower away from melting on the spot, but the heat rising from the soup pot kept him upright. “Aish… thank me by getting better, okay?”

You hummed in acknowledgment and lifted yourself off his back. When you hobbled away to sit down at the table, Jeonghan couldn't brush away the feeling that the spot your head had rested was now cold. 

“How was the” —cough— “the exam?” 

Jeonghan glanced over at you as he carefully ladled soup into two bowls. He hummed, “Could've been better, but can't really do anything about it now.”

“I'm sure you did good,” you replied, holding out your hands like a kid waiting for their turn to get candy from a jar as Jeonghan made his way over to you with the soup. “You always say you did bad when you actually scored in the top ten percent.”

“Careful, honey, it's hot.” Jeonghan continued to hold the bowl even as you cupped it in your hands, until it safely reached the table. Only then did he seat himself down adjacent to you. “Yeah, well, you always said I should be more humble,” he joked.

You picked up your spoon and gestured at him with it. “Humility and lying are different things,” you said pointedly. “Anyways, thank you. This looks really yummy.”

“I don't lie,” he drawled with a twinkle in his eye. He leaned his cheek against his fist and watched as you took a spoonful and gently blew on the hot liquid. The delight that lit up your face was enough to make him happy for a century. He inclined his chin. “Good?”

“Very good. Sometimes I forget that you're good at cooking, too.”

“Not like Mingyu though,” he chuckled and brought a spoonful up to his lips. 

You shot him a look. “You don't always have to compare yourself, Hannie-ah. I'm not talking about Mingyu right now.”

Maybe I just want to make sure, he thought, then brushed it under that large, metaphorical rug in his mind. Jeonghan gave a half-hearted shrug. 

Your mouth flattened into a displeased line. His grin widened. 

When the both of you finished as many helpings as you had the appetite for, Jeonghan graciously offered to wash the dishes. He practically anchored you to the couch by wrapping you in yet another blanket—it was a double-edged sword; you were quite cute like that and he had half the mind to ditch the dishes. Once done with his task, he plucked out a dose of cold medication to take for himself, as well. 

You eyed him from the couch as he swallowed the pills with a glass of orange juice. “Did I get you sick already?” you asked, your voice having become more nasally from your stuffy nose. 

“Not yet,” he said, “it's just preventative measures since I'm gonna be hanging around you.”

“You're not leaving?” 

Your words were one thing, but the way you peered over the back of the couch at him and the upward intonation in your voice told him something else. He smiled to himself as he walked over to the couch with his juice. “No, I was going to help you finish your work for the day, but if you want me to leave, I—”

“Only if you're not afraid of getting sick,” you said quickly. 

He sighed with an air of melodrama. “I suppose I can stay after all.” He brought out his laptop and the essay he finagled from your TA, vaguely mentioning something about his careful white lies in order to accomplish his mission. It was truly something only Jeonghan could pull off and get away with. 

The first item on your to-do list was to send out a couple emails. 

Jeonghan felt the weight of your head fall onto his shoulder, and he glanced down at you in amusement. “You're not falling asleep on me, are you?” he teased, his fingers paused from the email he was typing out while you dictated the wording. 

You shifted your head. “No, I'm still awake. Do you think this sounds too bubbly?”

“It’s not too bubbly,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “But the thing is you're not this agreeable in real life—aish! Haha, hey! Don't hit me!”

He could imagine your cute, little scowl. “I am incredibly agreeable.”

“Yes, yes.” Jeonghan lightly pat your head. “You're very lovely, Yn-ah.”

You chose to ignore the impish tone in his voice. It was what he wanted you to do anyway—believe that he thought you were lovely.  

It was difficult to parse out how much time passed, but at some point, the TV was turned on to a random channel playing some 90s sitcom, and his laptop was ditched on the coffee table. Jeonghan's legs ended up sprawled across the length of the couch while your layers of blankets covered both of you. Your head rested comfortably on his chest as he continued to watch TV in silent contentment.

Jeonghan was a lot of things, but he certainly wasn't oblivious to the fact that you took the wrong cold medicine. The box he bought had both daytime and nighttime meds, the latter of which contained melatonin to aid with uninterrupted sleep. He didn't say anything earlier when he realized, but it wasn't like he could say anything now. 

He glanced down at your face, his hand cupping the back of your head with too much tenderness for friendship. You were asleep; there was nothing he could do, no jokes to make or fun to poke. 

Him, his thoughts, and you. 

But this was fine. He was happy and warm like the perfect bowl of soup filling an empty stomach, and he had no intention of leaving until he knew that you were better. As his eyes slowly drooped closed, he sank further into the blankets and your hold, soul nourished.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed <3

svt m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @lotties-readings @tinkerbell460 @meosjinnn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @floatingpluto @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @eunseok-s @bless-311 @leaz-kpop-life @fluorescentloves @thesunsfullmoon @haechansbbg @kpopjackie @jundundun @http-gyu @mars101 @moonyswolf @honeyrecommends @synthwxve @thecarnivaloflies @p-d1ddy @thatonedemigodfromseoul @foivetimesthecharm

[earthnashes]

SOOOOOOOO. Arcane season 2, huh? Now that a couple of days have passed for me to marinate I think I'm ready to share my thoughts on the season. This WILL contain spoilers though so if you haven't seen it, I highly recommend watching for yourself first!

So! Overall, as a standalone season I feel like there are things Arcane excelled at and things that have lost its way a bit. For starters and easily the best part of the show: it's visuals. I've heard some complaints about how much the show cost but like. Brother. When I think of super expensive shows, THIS is what I think it should look like. At no point did I question the budget because it's made abundantly clear every penny is used to best use it could possibly get. And it resulted in what I've been calling a modern greek statue: a marvel, an incredible tapestry of just about every art medium you can think of woven into something so beyond anything I've seen in animation I have a hard time finding the appropriate words to express exactly how much I'm taken by it. This is a clear example of what art IS man and jesus christ. It's mindblowing. I can't praise the show enough for that, like it's literally the best looking thing I've ever seen in media.

Same with the sound design and music, particularly in the battle scenes. Something about the energy behind the sounds, like the clacking of Vi's gloves as shes revving up for a punch, or the reverb of metal clashing, the sound of how blows connect. Even the little things, like the distinct difference between footsteps, or the glitch-like sound that spiders in the backround before shimmer or the arcane is utilized? Like CHEF'S KISS BRO. God almighty it tickles a part in my head.

Just the visuals and sound design is fuckin tasty bro. A solid 1000000000/10

So now Characters. Season 2 managed to take the existing characters and really built off of what was already there. In my opinion the characters, particularly the main players, received additional depth and evolution in a way that made sense in the long run, and the conclusions they reached in their arcs felt like a correct conclusion. However, it's how they got there and how fast they get there being one of my complaints.

For starters: the love triangle between Jinx, Vi, and Caitlyn. I didn't appreciate how, for the most part, it felt like it took a backseat in this season when it was one of the driving forces of season 1. It's not JUST them though: the relationships of every character kinda fell away to the wayside for the sake of getting through as much of the plot as possible, but we're on these three right now so:

-I feel like a PROPER recouncil between Vi and Jinx was sorely needed. There were hints to it, particularly in Act 2, but we were kinda left guessing and having to fill the majority of the gaps ourselves. One of Vi's driving factors as a character is her relationship with Jinx/Powder; her unable to accept that she's changed in her absence. Act 2 opened the door in allowing Vi to learn about Jinx as she is and come to terms that, even if she's changed, she's still her sister and there's a chance to bridge that gap. Vice versa to Jinx, particularly because of Isha's presence; I have to assume by becoming an older sister herself, she begins to get an understanding of Vi she previously lacked and that really could've been a stronger catalyst in her recounciling with her. Had the sisters actually got more on-screen time together and really let the hope between them breath, I feel like the ending would've had a much stronger impact.

-Cait/Vi, as much as I enjoy the pairing, felt a little too disjointed. Act 1 was the strongest showcase of their relationship; a sudden escalation driven by mutual grief and attraction and genuine care only to be torn apart immediately after because of Cait's blind rage. Cinema. Beautiful. But immediately after, we don't really see either character work off that much in my opinion. Vi does have a spiral that was very well shown, though I do wish we saw more of Pit Vi and her descent.

As far as Cait goes I would've preferred seeing her spiraling in her own way; with how the third episode of Act 1 ended, I felt like the show was gearing up to showcase how much she allows her hunt for vengeance cloud her mind and take over her life, to do things her mother would have not approved of. Like bro she was so SURE she wouldn't miss (immediately after missing every shot she took up to that point) that she was willing to potentially kill a child for it. Ain't no way she wasn't constantly frothing at the mouth for some time, wallowing in Vi's apparent "betrayal" and in the grief of her mother's death. I DO like how she is seen questioning her actions but it just feels like a tiny snapshot. Had they continued with showing her questioning what, exactly, the hell she's doing (while continuing to go on with her reign), then seeing not just Vi but also how her actions has widened the rift between Piltover and Zaun, her finally being able to break herself off would've felt more weighty.

"What are you shooting for, young Kiramman?" Grayson once asked. I can't help but feel like that line could have had some very strong carry-through into this season; not only giving a proper callback to Grayson as Cait's mentor(?) but also cement Cait's inner turmoil between blinded by revenge, but growing to dislike what she's turned into to get it.

And the sex scene. Particularly WHERE the sex scene occurred, immediately after Jinx heavily implied offing herself to "break the cycle". Vi isn't stupid. I felt like it was extremely clear what Jinx was alluding to, and it seemed like Vi understood that with how she asked "What are you gonna do?" She sounded terrified and desperate. She has SEEN Jinx be suicidal in this season first hand, was all but directly asked by Jinx to put her out of her misery herself. You're telling me she immediately bones the shit outta Cait right after Jinx scampers off and seems to forget it?? I dunno man. :/ I wouldn't remove the fuckfest, but in my opinion there were better places to put it.

And overall in terms of the characters as a whole, there was just too many gaps and too little time. Vander felt like he was underutilized, particularly his clear fight in trying to get a hold of his humanity; could've really used him to push the running theme of people can change, but they're still the same person at their very core.

Heimerdinger got shafted I feel like. He had such a strong impact in S1, only for his death to be... well. Forgotten.

Mel's storyline was way too fucking short. Love the powers she got but they ultimately felt unearned; I feel like we could've spent way more time on her learning to control it to some extent. Her whole shtick in being cunning and one step ahead of everyone (much like her mother) could've played a stronger part here too, particularly because I don't remember the Black Rose being explained much, so it would've been nice to see Mel put her strengths into play to find out for herself and give her a more active role in her ability to fight back.

Ambessa was anticlimactic and I didn't appreciate how she ultimately perished. I wanted her to die, don't get me wrong, but the war in general felt waaaaay too short and her death too easy. I appreciate they didn't go full evil with her, and made her an embodiment of Singe's quote of "doing horrendous things in the name of love", but it kinda felt like her initial plot of using hextech to fight the Black Rose (I could be wrong here but that is what it felt like she ultimately wanted) kinda got... forgotten?

Victor's progression is the only one that felt mostly natural in it's pacing. But again, with how unstoppable his robot pawns were, I felt like they really robbed the final battle of any significant weight to it; Zaun and Piltover, fighting as one against a common enemy. One of the biggest payoffs in the show... felt underwheming and, again, unearned.

And the new characters didn't really get much chance to do much of anything. Loris felt like an important parallel to Vander given how many times he was shown to look and sorta act like him. I felt like he had a bigger role to fill but just ended up bodied. Maddie, at least, had somethin interesting goin on but I feel like she could've been made more impactful in her betrayal.

Overall, a mid 5/10. It wasn't terrible, but it definitely needed more time to really flesh everything out.

And finally, the plot. I personally really enjoyed the overall plot and it's opposing themes to season 1. Whereas s1 felt like "love is undoing" and veered into tragedy, s2 felt like "love is healing" and veered into hope; the sisters learning to accept one another, Vi and Cait mending the rift between each other, Victor and Jayce finding their way back to one another. Isha giving Jinx purpose and a new perspective on life, Vander returning and, even if briefly, managing to regain his humanity for his daughters, the list goes on. It's such a beautiful contrast to season 1, but that is part of why I strongly feel like Arcane NEEDED one more season.

Season 2 was too focused on getting as much story out as possible that it didn't allow the characters themselves to push it forward, and it was weakened for it. Had there been three seasons, Act 1 and Act 2 could have been the entirety of season 2, and Act 3 could have been the whole of a season 3, where we get to see the total climax of everything that occurred. Given the rumors of there being a strong interest for an animated movie (and I have a theory that it might be to continue the story of Arcane in some way), that might help with some of the contingencies if it's true, but that's only if the movie actually comes to fruition.

As it currently stands, my biggest critique of Season 2 was switching focus on making the plot drive the story, when instead it really should've continued the trend from Season 1 in letting the characters drives the story forward.

_______

My meds is beginning to kick in and I'm getting drowsy from it so I'll leave it here for now! TLDR: Arcane Season 2 was mostly good. I have my fair bit of complaints and thoughts on how I'd personally structure everything, but a a whole, pretty good! It's one of those shows where I would personally recommend everyone watch from start to finish to at least experience it in its entirety yourself.

Season 2 Rating: 7.5/10

[ginxyy]

Years in the Making

(A bit of a long one. Smut with a plot. New to smut so let me know if you like it)

You remember that night as if it were painted in vivid strokes across a canvas, every detail burned into your memory. The laughter, the music, the fleeting touches of a friendship that had danced dangerously close to something more. Dinner with Mingyu and the rest of Seventeen felt electric, a swirl of familiarity and something that lingered just beneath the surface. Bottles of laughter were passed around like shared secrets, and you could feel the warmth of the candles flickering on the table, casting shadows of admiration and longing.

You sat opposite Mingyu, your eyes occasionally meeting his, where unspoken words swirled like whispers in the air. You had danced around this connection for years always caring, always loving each other deeper than the simple words could express, yet choosing to date others, stepping into relationships that never quite felt right. It was as if you both held the pieces of a puzzle and were too stubborn to fit them together.

As the night went on, encouragement was all around you. You exchanged playful banter with Seungcheol, who sat beside you, his presence warm and inviting. With a confident grin, he leaned closer, brushing his shoulder against yours. In a moment of defiance, perhaps a moment to provoke the invisible boundaries, you decided to flirt just a little more than usual. “You know, Seungcheol,” you said, your voice teasing, “I’ve always thought your smile could light up the entire room. You should definitely use it more often.”

The laughter chimed louder, Mingyu’s gaze narrowing just slightly, insecurity threading its way through him. You caught his eye, hoping to read the thoughts behind those intense dark orbs, but he quickly looked away. There was a stigma here the ritualistic dance of disguising affection with indifference. The atmosphere grew thick with tension what was supposed to be playful, innocent fun had turned into a game neither of you had wanted to play.

Mingyu, unable to tolerate the lighthearted exchange any longer, finally slid his chair back and stood abruptly. You glanced up in shock, your heart racing as he walked away, muttering heatedly under his breath. You hadn’t meant to hurt him, to rock the boat that had remained steady despite all the waves crashing against your relationship. But you sensed disturbance in the air as he trudged toward Vernon, his best friend, seeking solace in his wisdom.

“Why does she always do this?” Mingyu complained, the frustration palpable in his voice. “Why does she pick someone who isn’t me?”

Vernon shrugged, only half-listening, the warmth in his eyes betraying a knowing smile. “Maybe you should just confess to her, Mingyu. But then again, it’s easy to be brave with advice, isn’t it?”

You didn’t hear the rest of the exchange as you slipped away, enticed by the prospect of snacks in the kitchen. Each step felt heavy with a mix of guilt and exhaustion. But time passed, and you lost yourself in the charm of the room, the glimmering lights, the laughter floating around you. Seungcheol unhurriedly followed, stepping into the kitchen just as you reached for a bag of chips.

“Need a hand?” he asked, his voice smooth as silk, the sort that could hug you in warmth even when he was just a few feet away. You laughed, turning to face him, feeling a mischievous spark ignite within. Inexplicably drawn to the moment, you found yourself flirting deeper, tilting your head up, saying something cheeky, something that would have made Mingyu’s heart race.

And then, as if scripted from a movie, you leaned in Seungcheol’s lips met yours in swift collision. The heat and intensity enveloped you like a fever. It was a rush, a whirlwind of rebellious energy, one you’d yearned for in some capacity, even if it was wrong. But amidst that thrill, the sound of the kitchen door swung open with a familiar creak, a sound that held an icy intensity.

Mingyu's figure stood in the doorway, shadows of anguish dancing across his features, disbelief etched in every line of his face. Regret surged through you as you pulled away from Seungcheol, the spark extinguished in an instant when you met Mingyu's heartbroken eyes. He took a step back, his breaths shallow and pained, before turning and exiting into the night, leaving you with only the ghost of the stolen moment lingering in the air.

The distant echo of what had transpired haunted you for weeks afterward. Days melted into one another filled with an undeniable emptiness. Text messages were silenced, and phone calls went unanswered. The weight of what you had witnessed and the absence of Mingyu dissolved your spirit.

Then one night, as moonlight bathed your room in ethereal glow, a sound broke the silence a quiet knocking at your door. Your heart raced as you opened it, revealing Mingyu, his eyes glistening with vulnerability and despair. He fell to his knees, the overwhelming sorrow spilling out as he hugged your legs, like a child longing for a sense of safety.

“I love you,” he blurted, voice trembling as if the confession itself held the burden of years. “I will always love you. Just pick me. Please.” The intensity in his gaze filled with an urgency that stripped you of everything but truth.

Hearing those words brought a torrent of emotions rushing through you, tears swelling in your eyes as you sank down to him. You held his face in your hands, fingers trembling as you caressed his cheeks. “Mingyu, I have always loved you,” you confessed, your voice barely a whisper. The weight found its release in that moment, and tears fell freely as you pulled him closer. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

Mingyu’s breath hitched as your words sank into him, the tremor of your confession igniting something raw and uncontainable within his soul. His hands, trembling but sure, cupped your face with a tender ferocity, his thumbs brushing away the tears that streaked your cheeks. “Say it again,” he whispered, voice cracking with vulnerability as his forehead pressed against yours. “Please… I need to hear it again.”

You looked deep into his eyes, the pain and longing of years swirling within them, and your heart broke for how long you both had suffered in silence. “I’ve always loved you, Mingyu. It’s you. It’s always been you. And it always will be.”

The air between you shifted, electric and heady, as his lips crashed onto yours with a hunger that left you breathless. His kiss was fire and desperation, years of restraint finally breaking free. You clung to him, your fingers tangling in his dark hair as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. Mingyu groaned against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you and stirring something primal.

“I can’t believe I almost lost you,” he muttered between heated kisses, his voice filled with both anguish and relief. His lips trailed down to your jaw, then your neck, the wet press of his kisses sending shivers down your spine. Your breaths came fast and shallow, every touch setting your skin ablaze.

“Mingyu…” you whispered, the sound of his name on your lips like a prayer, and it only seemed to drive him further. His grip on you tightened, strong and unwavering as he hoisted you up effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and he carried you toward your room as though the rest of the world had fallen away.

He pushed the door open with his foot, and the soft moonlight spilling through the window bathed the room in a silvery glow. Mingyu set you down gently on the bed, his dark eyes blazing with intensity as he hovered over you. “I love you,” he said again, his voice thick with emotion as his hands caressed your face, then slid down your arms. “I’ve always loved you. Even when it hurt, even when I thought I had no chance… it was always you.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but they were tears of release, of joy. You reached up to him, pulling him down until your lips met once more, this time softer, sweeter, though no less passionate. The kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, claiming you as his in a way that left no doubt of his devotion.

Mingyu’s hands roamed, exploring every curve of your body as if memorizing you for the first time. He kissed you like you were the air he needed to breathe, and when his lips broke from yours, they trailed down your neck and collarbone, leaving a blazing path in their wake. His voice, low and gravelly, sent heat pooling in your core. “Tell me this is real,” he begged. “Tell me I’m not dreaming.”

“It’s real,” you assured him, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he leaned down, his weight a comforting presence against you. “It’s us. Finally. It’s us.”

The tension between you snapped, and there was no going back. Mingyu’s hands slid under your shirt, his touch igniting your skin as he peeled the fabric away, leaving you bare to him. He took a moment to simply look at you, his gaze reverent and filled with wonder. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice almost breaking.

His lips were on you again, his kisses growing more fervent, more demanding. The heat between you was unbearable, and you arched into him, craving his touch, his love, his everything. Your hands found the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in a rush, and the feel of his warm skin against yours made you gasp.

“Mingyu,” you moaned, the sound spurring him on as his kisses became deeper, needier. His hands explored every inch of you, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he couldn’t get enough. He groaned your name, the sound guttural and raw, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’ll always pick you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with conviction. “Always, Mingyu. It’s only ever been you.”

That was all it took for him to lose whatever semblance of control he had left. Mingyu’s kisses grew more urgent, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned himself between them. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice a litany of devotion as he claimed your lips once more. “I’ll prove it to you, every day, every second, for the rest of my life.”

And as the night unfolded, it was filled with whispered promises, searing kisses, and the overwhelming warmth of finally, finally being with the person you were always meant to be with.

Mingyu’s lips moved against yours with a fervor that spoke of years of restraint finally shattering, his hands exploring every curve of your body with a reverence that sent shivers racing across your skin. His touch was hot, possessive, but filled with an unspoken tenderness that melted you into him.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, each word vibrating through your body. “How many nights I’ve dreamed about you, about us. You’re everything, and I’m done pretending.”

His mouth descended to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before his tongue soothed the spot, leaving you gasping. His large hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the evidence of his desire pressing into you, hard and unrelenting.

“Mingyu…” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as his kisses traveled lower, down your collarbone, and further still, igniting a fire in their wake.

“I love the way you say my name,” he groaned, his lips pausing just above your heart. “Say it again. Let me hear it.”

“Mingyu,” you moaned, your back arching as his mouth found your skin once more, his teeth and tongue working in tandem to claim you, mark you, adore you. His hands were everywhere trailing up your sides, sliding down your thighs his touch firm yet impossibly gentle, as if he was savoring every moment.

“You’re so perfect,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “Every inch of you. I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long. You have no idea what you do to me.”

He pulled away just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and blazing with desire. “Let me make you feel good,” he rasped, his thumb brushing over your lips. “Let me give you everything.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on you again, his kisses growing more heated, more desperate. His hands slid down to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers hooking underneath as he began to tug them down. You lifted your hips instinctively, your breath hitching as the cool air met your heated skin.

Mingyu’s gaze dropped, his eyes drinking you in like you were the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen. “God, you’re stunning,” he breathed, his voice trembling with awe. “I’ve imagined this so many times, but nothing comes close to the real thing.”

He pressed a trail of kisses down your stomach, his lips lingering on every inch of exposed skin, his hands caressing your thighs with an intensity that left you trembling. When his mouth hovered just above where you needed him most, you let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

“Tell me what you need,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “I want to hear you say it.”

“You,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need you, Mingyu. Please.”

“That’s my girl,” he said with a wicked grin, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “I’ll take care of you, baby. Just relax.”

And then his mouth was on you, his tongue sweeping over you with a precision that made your entire body jolt. A broken moan escaped your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair as he worked you with a skill that left you breathless.

“So sweet,” he groaned against you, his voice muffled. “I could stay here forever. You taste like heaven, baby. All mine. You’re all mine.”

He alternated between slow, languid strokes and quick, focused flicks, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place as your hips bucked against him. The combination of his tongue and the low, constant rumble of his voice was enough to drive you to the edge.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his lips brushing against you between strokes. “Falling apart for me. Just me. God, I’ve wanted this for so long. Tell me how it feels, baby. Tell me how much you need me.”

“It’s so good,” you moaned, your voice trembling as waves of pleasure coursed through you. “I need you, Mingyu. I—oh my God—don’t stop.”

His fingers joined the fray, sliding into you with an ease that made your head spin. His touch was firm, deliberate, curling just right as his tongue continued its relentless assault. The combination was devastating, your body tightening as the pressure built higher and higher.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his voice rough with desire. “Let go for me. I want to feel you fall apart. I want to hear every single sound you make. God, you’re so perfect.”

You shattered beneath him, a cry ripping from your throat as your body arched off the bed, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Mingyu didn’t stop, drawing out your release with steady, deliberate movements, his voice a constant stream of praise and adoration.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his tone filled with pride. “So beautiful. So perfect. I could watch you like this forever.”

As the waves of pleasure subsided, he kissed his way back up your body, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that left no doubt of his love, his devotion, his hunger.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered against your lips, his voice trembling. “And I’m not done with you yet.”

The night was far from over, and you both knew it. Years of longing, of frustration, of unspoken love had finally been unleashed, and there was no holding back now.

Mingyu hovered over you, his body pressed against yours, his skin warm and slick from the heat of the moment. His kisses grew hungrier, more demanding, as though he needed to consume every ounce of you, to erase the years of distance that had kept you apart. His lips trailed down your jaw and neck, his hands exploring your body like he was memorizing every curve, every soft gasp you made under his touch.

“You’re mine,” he growled against your skin, his voice low and rough, laced with possessive desire. His teeth grazed your collarbone, followed by the soothing swipe of his tongue. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered, breathless, your hands clutching his shoulders as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded. “Always.”

“That’s right,” he muttered, his mouth moving to your ear, his voice dark and commanding. “Only mine. No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to touch you, to hear you like this. Just me.”

His words sent a thrill through you, heat pooling low in your belly as his lips returned to yours, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with an intensity that left you gasping. One of his hands slid down your body, slipping between your thighs once more, his fingers finding your most sensitive spot with ease.

“You’re so wet for me,” he groaned, his lips brushing against yours as his fingers moved with purpose. “So perfect. I could make you come like this all night, baby. You’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d let me keep you here, falling apart for me over and over.”

“Mingyu,” you whimpered, your hips bucking against his hand, your body chasing the pleasure he so expertly provided. “Please…”

“Please what?” he teased, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction as he kissed the corner of your mouth. “Tell me what you need, baby. I’ll give you anything. Everything.”

“You,” you gasped, your nails digging into his back as his fingers worked you closer to the edge. “I need you, Mingyu. Please. I can’t I need you inside me.”

He groaned deeply, his forehead pressing against yours as he removed his hand, his fingers glistening with your slick. He brought them to his mouth, his dark eyes locked on yours as he licked them clean, his tongue dragging slowly over his fingers. “You taste so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I could live off you, baby. You drive me crazy.”

He shifted, lining himself up with you, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you wider beneath him. His gaze softened for a moment, a hint of vulnerability breaking through the intensity. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice quieter now, filled with love. “I need you to be sure, baby. I don’t think I could stop.”

“I’m sure,” you said, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I want you, Mingyu. I need you.”

That was all he needed. He pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, a deep groan rumbling in his chest as he stretched you around him. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and fullness that had you moaning his name, your nails raking down his back.

“Fuck, baby,” he gritted out, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he bottomed out inside you. “You’re so tight, so perfect. Made for me. Only me.”

He started moving, his pace slow and deliberate at first, his hips rolling in a way that had you seeing stars. His lips found yours again, swallowing your moans as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, leaving you gasping for air.

“That’s it,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a mix of sweetness and filth. “Take me, baby. Take all of me. You’re so good for me, so perfect. I’ll never get enough of you.”

His pace quickened, his thrusts growing rougher, more desperate, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you against him with each thrust, his control slipping as he lost himself in you.

“I want you to come for me,” he groaned, his voice strained as he pushed you closer to the edge. “I want to feel you fall apart around me. Let me have it, baby. Let me feel how good I make you feel.”

You were helpless to resist him, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. His name spilled from your lips like a prayer as you shattered around him, your walls clenching tightly as wave after wave of pleasure consumed you.

“That’s it,” he rasped, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “God, you’re incredible. I love you so much. I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Make you mine in every way.”

His hand slid down to where your bodies were joined, his fingers finding your sensitive clit and circling it with precision. “Give me one more,” he urged, his voice low and commanding. “One more, baby. I know you can. Let go for me.”

You cried out as he pushed you over the edge again, your body trembling as another orgasm crashed through you. The sensation of him moving inside you, the filthy, loving words spilling from his lips, was too much to bear.

Mingyu groaned loudly, his hips snapping against yours one final time as he came, his release filling you with warmth. He buried his face in your neck, his breaths ragged as he whispered, “That’s it, baby. Take it all. God, you’re perfect.”

He pulled back slightly, his hand coming to rest on your stomach as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with adoration. “I want this,” he said softly, his voice still hoarse from exertion. “I want us. A family. You carrying my baby, us building a life together. I want it all with you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, tears pricking your eyes as you reached up to cup his face. “I want that too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I want everything with you, Mingyu.”

He smiled, his expression softening as he leaned down to kiss you, slow and tender. “Good,” he murmured against your lips. “Because I’m never letting you go.”

[hollowed-theory-hall]

How well JK execute mystery in her books?

I'd say pretty well overall. Like, each HP book has its own slowly building mystery thread, and then you have mysteries that are over the course of the whole series. In general, I think she's pretty good at slowly building up a mystery and leaving a ton of foreshadowing behind for a second reading.

Philosopher's Stone has a really well-structured mystery. It's planted in the reader's mind at Gringotts when Hagrid takes the package. Then Gringotts is broken into, there's the out-of-bounds Third Floor Corridor, and something is killing the unicorns. Like, it's very well structured and has a satisfying conclusion that fits all the buildup.

Chamber of Secrets has one of the better mysteries in the series, I think. Like, in how it's written and structured. We start this one not slowly, but with a bang by Dobby telling Harry there's a nefarious plot. This already gets the ball rolling and the reader questioning. Add to that we see Lucius at Diagon Alley, we later see Ginny acting odd, Myrtle is there since very early in the book, and Harry's Parseltongue from the beginning of PS comes back into play. The foreshadowing and buildup are all there and the tension slowly builds up as Harry (and you) learn more. Then you meet Tom and fall for him a little like Harry does which makes the reveal (which is obvious in hindsight) all the more heart-reaching. I really like the mystery in CoS.

Prisoner of Azkaban takes a page out of CoS and starts with the bang of "Sirius Black escaped Azkaban and he's trying to kill Harry". Unfortunately, unlike in CoS, the mystery doesn't really breathe over the course of the book. Sure, you have the "what's up with Lupin" thread, but throughout the book, Harry isn't really interested in that mystery. It's all about his parents and Sirius Black. There is no question regarding Sirius' guilt throughout this book until the very end and the question of what he wants isn't raised either because Harry believes he is out to kill him. So, I'd say PoA isn't really a mystery the way the first two are since the answers we got don't fit the questions we asked.

Goblet of Fire is, like its name, fire. This is my favorite book, and the mystery plot is serving in this one. Moody acts strange throughout the whole book, someone puts Harry's name in the goblet, Moody is drinking from a flask, and Snape has some potion ingredients used for Polyjuice in CoS stolen from him. And then you have the memory of the trial scene of Barty and Ceouch Sr walking around too. All the buildup to the reveal is great and super fun to point out on a second readthrough. The answers are super satisfying as well and are so worth the buildup. Like, the ending of this book hits. There's a reason this one is my favorite.

Order of the Phoenix is a bit of a weaker entry. Not for the same reasons as PoA though. OotP does ask the questions: "What's the weapon Voldemort is after?", "What are the Order guarding?", and "What is this hallway Harry keeps dreaming about?" And all these questions get a satisfying answer. My problem is in the buildup. The buildup in this book of Harry's connection to Voldemort is more relevant to the overarching mystery regarding Harry being a Horcrux, not to the internal mystery of OotP. So, OotP's mystery lacks in the slow progression throughout the book itself, but you don't feel it cause it has so many other great things going on in it.

Half-Blood Prince is similar to OotP. Like, it has two mystery threads, really and both of them don't really get a slow, gradual buildup towards that answers (even if the answers are good). Like, the mystery of who the prince is doesn't really get much foreshadowing, and even on a second read you barely get hints toward the prince being Snape. Same for what's Draco up to, honestly. Like, as the reader you kinda know what's going on with him, so it's just Harry trying to figure out what you kinda already know. Like, it doesn't have the gradual build from the earlier books of the mystery being unraveled slowly until the final moment of the reveal. Like OotP, HBP has a lot else going for it so you don't notice it much.

Deathly Hallows, has so many little mysteries inside it so it feels unfocused because it's trying to do too much. Becouse of that, I think some of the mysteries are better than others. It's the culmination of the mystery of Harry and Voldemort's connection, which I think was very well structured over the course of the whole series. Dumbledore's past and master plan and who Dumbledore really was, was a fun theme/mystery that I think was done well. I would've liked it better if Harry didn't name his kid Albus if only to leave this mystery open-ended a little, you know? so the reader could think for themselves what they think about Dumbledore without shoehorning in that Harry thinks he's good. The mystery of Deathly Hallows, which is the titular mystery of this book, could've been built better. It's lacking some buildup during the book (and before it if we're being honest) and I would've liked learning more about the Hallows than what we got. Like, it feels like a mystery that didn't get all the answers it should've gotten. Like in OotP and HBP, there is so much else going on, that the weaker internal book mystery would've been basically unnoticeable if the book was more well-structured and had better pacing.

These are my opinions as there is some subjectivity in this sort of question.

[leslie057]

finished a long-ish comic for @jancyweeks … now time to try and write some fic?

[zevranunderstander]

sex education is a phenomenal show with well-written representation, amazing actors, campy ideas, great character arcs and character growth and i would recommend the show to anyone, but it's just that the show also has the most boring and unlikeable main character of all time and the main plot of a season is usually the weakest plotline

[hypnagogics]

THE WAY YOU WRITE IS JUST SO YUMMM so yeah🧍🏻‍♀️can you write something about streamer ellie <33

☆: IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. definitelyyyy hasn't been...months...anyway. positive this is one of the worse things i've written, but didn't wanna leave you hanging forever! ngl it's pretty filthy..heh.

◇: 18+ pretend those twitch guideline things don't exist. remote control vibrator use, orgasm denial, sub-ish!ellie?? plot twist at the end bc i think im so funny. 1.6k wc. don't mind the layout of this idk what else to do...

You watch your girlfriend stream her game from your fluffy and comfortable spot on your shared bed—you observe how focused she was on her screen, how her skilled fingers were flying across the keyboard and mouse. It would certainly be a shame to disturb her in such a high tension moment but you think it over, running your finger over the small buttons of the sleek little remote in your hand.

"Yeah, yeah, got 'em! Look at that guys, I fuckin’ aced that!" Ellie rejoices in her victory, and gleefully boasts to her viewers, adjusting her microphone closer and leaning back in her chair.

You're glad you were far off camera, her fans didn't even know she was in a relationship—Ellie made it clear she wanted you to be separate from her hobbies, not because she wanted to keep you a secret, but because she wanted to keep you safe. And you enjoyed watching her stream from the sidelines like this, you saw how her personality captivated viewers and how much fun she really was. But you also enjoyed messing with her on the occasion. Like today.

"Can I watch tonight's stream again?" You asked her eagerly. "Yeah, why not? I'll be doing some tournaments and stuff though, so no distractions." Oops. You bit back a laugh. Ellie immediately sussed out the mischievous look on your face and she sighed, expecting the worst.

Then you showed her the box you've been hiding, "Please let's try, I won't click it too much, I promise." She stared at you for a whole minute, maybe more, before sighing and reluctantly agreeing, rubbing her hands all over her face. "God, fine. Just 'cause I love you. Damn you're evil."

Fast forward to now—the device was snugly inserted inside her pretty pussy, tested out to prove it does in fact work, and works well at that.

So off Ellie went to play her game, getting so caught up in everything she seemingly forgot about the device entirely. In between games she was talking to the viewers, reading the chat and joking back and forth. You decided it was a good enough time to click it so you pressed the button, only for a miniscule zap.

She jerked in her seat, gasping, but quickly recovered with a strategic cough. "Phew sorry guys, something got caught in my throat." You saw a bright berry blush spread across her face, and the way she fought to turn and throw a glare at you. This was going to be fun.

"Alright, the next round’s gonna start, we gotta lock in! Hopefully nothing pops up and this goes smoothly. I can taste the win already.” She put a certain warning tone to her voice in the last part of her sentence, you knew it was meant for you, but were you going to listen? Absolutely not. "Oh yeah chat fun fact, this old area of the map was inspired by ancient ruins just of—ah!" As if her body had a mind of its own, she squirmed in her seat and she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a moan when you hit it again, but this time you didn't turn it off right away. You kept it going for a few more seconds, to prolong the terribly delicious sensation.

She screwed her eyes shut tightly and held her breath until you turned it off, mumbling to her viewers about "having hiccups". "The game is starting now, so we really gotta get serious." Her voice had an unsteadiness to it only you could hear, she was keeping her composure rather well so far. But likely wouldn't be able to keep up the act for much longer. Even she has her limits.

As her match went on, she got quiet when she was focused, mashing the keys with a speed fast as sound. Of course, you hit it again, just a short one, causing a choked "guh" to escape from her lips and she twitched when you did so, her facade starting to crack. The effort to keep her voice stable was showing, she was huffing and struggling to get her words out clearly, they were laced with obvious irritation.

"Fuck missed the shot, dammit. Yeah I don't know, somethings up today, sorry guys...off my game." You decided to be nice to her until the game ended, not pressing it further or adjusting the intensity. She played for a little while longer before losing the match, leaning forward on the desk with her face in her hands. This was the perfect moment, so you cranked it up, increased the intensity to maximum, and held the button for the longest time yet, making her whine—a low, drawn out sound she couldn't stifle this time.

You could hear lots of messages being sent, pings in rapid succession, they were probably clipping that moment. Perverts, you thought. 

Her chest was noticeably heaving up and down, her legs spread as she rocks her front against the chair, and she kept her head lowered until you decreased the intensity but didn't turn it all the way off. Her hands were shaking, and her face was a vibrant cherry red, the screen even reflected the sparkle of a couple tears in her eyes.

“What? Oh, I'm just so sad about the loss guys, we were so close—hnn- so…so closeahh—I mean, we should've gotten that…” She trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip and tapping her fingers on the desk’s wooden surface. “Y’know what, I'll be right back.” She paused the stream, made triple sure her camera and microphone were turned off, then whipped around in her chair to face you, glaring silver daggers your way.

You just giggled innocently and turned the device off again. “What the fuck is wrong with you, this shit is not- not light on you at all.” Her voice was breaking, her pretty features contorted in a beautifully needy expression, eyebrows furrowed and eyes all watery. Nearly as wet as the mess in her pants. You feigned innocence and shrugged at her, “Well I didn't know it was that strong.” “You knew damn well.” She's fed up with your antics, but you have fun playing with her. She covers her face and leans back in the chair, the embarrassment in her voice the only thing you could hear, “Fuck you...turn it up again, wanna cum.”

You couldn't contain the laugh that burst forth from your chest, then said, “Only if you stream it.” The shock that flickered across her face was priceless, you wish you could have snapped a photo.

“What the fuck do you mean by that, nah forget it.”

“Hey, you gotta finish your stream either way, they're waiting. Would you wanna be so awful and deprive those darlings of your presence?”

You flash her a sugary smile, and she shoots you a murderous look again, before wordlessly scooting back to her setup, fanning herself briefly and readjusting her coppery hair.

Then she turns the stream back on. “Sorry guys, I had to get up for a second. Anyway, let's play one more game. I'm getting kinda tired today. Let's make this one count, lock in like never before.” She takes a deep breath, cracks her knuckles, and begins smacking away at the keyboard buttons. You're able to see the way she looks tense, on edge, anticipating your devilish interruption.

You debate whether you should torture her, but the answer quickly becomes clear. Click.

“Ah—fuck!” She sputters, and roughly slams her fist on the desk. The pleasure was hitting her with full force, she was in her own, lewd, world now. Her head is thrown back, back arched and hips stuttering, the release was about to sneak up on her.

You watch the scenario unfold, licking your lips and pressing your thighs together to deal with the pressure between them. Her unapologetic moans get louder, but for a second she snaps out of the trance to sit back upright, turn the stream off, before the peak hits her like a truck.

“Holy, fu—hah!!” With a squeal she cums, not caring about how fucking loud she was being, wanting to be selfishly absorbed in ecstasy.

She started to jolt around in her seat, the throes of overstimulation making her whimper like an animal in heat, it truly was a sight to behold. You wish you were in between her legs, lapping up her sweetness straight from the source, but in a way, just watching from the sidelines was satisfying enough. You'll clean her up afterward.

Finally you turned it off once and for all, and gazed at her, she was panting heavily, the post-orgasm glow making her rosy skin shimmer in the low light.

“Hmmm, thanks babe, that was so good…” She tried to talk, her head was in the clouds, but she looked at peace.

“You're a whore.” You chortled, and you two shared a laugh.

Although, a flurry of shrill sounds brought you both out of the fantasy. Ping, ping, ping.

Unfortunately she wasn't able to enjoy the aftermath of a mind-numbing session, because her eyes shot open and she began scrambling to find the source of the sound. Your stomach dropped as you watched her panic, her neuroticism infectious.

She looked at you, her eyes wider than saucers, nothing but fear in her voice, “I wasn't able to turn my mic off…”

What was she going to do now?

if you'd like to be tagged in my fics, click here! thank you for reading. asks, reblogs, and comments are appreciated more than you know. ♡

tags: @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @r3starttt @littlefallenangel111 @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ine @anniee333 @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @ashaynep @mascdom @xysbree @liddysflyer @fortune777 @brunaedn @bunnitewsilly @mimasroom2 @deliriousrn @infiniteinquiries @thekill3randthefinalgirl @kissyslut @elliesapple

[baeshijima]

mr reca fic where he’s suffering a creative slump due to the lack of good scripts (by his standards) from various screenwriters. he feels himself going positively insane with every script he’s given.

it’s too dull. it’s too predictable. this one has no creative flair whatsoever!! that one just doesn’t spark enough imagination!!!

it’s troublesome, really. some think he’s really going through it, while others believe the scripts he’s been given won’t bring him enough money. but really, who cares about monetary value when it is he who cannot even begin to picture himself enjoying the process that comes with each script?

and so that is how he finds himself wandering around aimlessly. sometimes the outdoors is necessary for the mind, and who knows? perhaps he really will find something that will give him a spark. hmm, those trees are looking a little dull. the sky overhead is too cloudy. hm? did he just hear thunder—

something collides into his chest, a choked “oof!” following soon after. he stumbles backwards a little, papers flying through the air around him. he blinks once, twice, at the sight of you on the ground, muttering something under your breath before a sharp gasp escapes you, hastily scrambling to gather the papers fluttering and strewn around.

one such paper falls into his hands. he glances over its contents, skimming through it as he goes to pass it over to you with an apology at the tip of his tongue, only to freeze.

this… this is genius! this is absolutely the pinnacle of writing!! while a little rough around the edges (as drafts usually tend to be), his once clouded mind is now clear, giving way to a blank canvas which slowly depicts the imagery your writing induces. idea after idea pours into his brain as he can visualise exactly what he wants, his body trembling and heart pounding as he insantly fixates on your panicked form still collecting all the fallen papers.

“yes… yes! this is what i was looking for! everything about this is pure artistry! the possibilities are endless, the sky is the limit!!”

this is possibly the happiest and freest he has felt in what seems like eons! seriously, compared to those other mind-numbing scripts this truly is the pinnacle of writing itself.

a laugh full of pure, unadulterated glee escapes him, careful not to crinkle the god-sent paper cradled in his palms. “you! you’re a genius!”

“i’m a wha…?”

he whirls in the direction of the source of the voice, further praises and a proposal for a collaboration on the tip of his tongue, only for his breath to catch in his throat.

you… you’re so radiant! even with that disheveled appearance and absolutely adorable confused expression you’re giving him, he never realised such beauty existed! not only does your writing fill him with endless creativity, but his pounding heart, parched throat and warming skin tells him you’re definitely the main character!

but wait! if you were to be the main character, then would that make him the main character’s love interest? surely he wouldn’t have had such a cliché meet-cute like bumping into each other if he wasn’t the love interest! but what if there is a second love interest? no, no, he can oust them…

you, on the other hand, believe you’re about to get whiplash instead of the man, baffled at how he instantly switched from a maniac to stark silence to muttering senselessly with a dreamy expression.

well, each to their own. you have more pressing matters, and that’s to quickly return home and continue fantasising before you forget the idea! but first, you have to get the last piece of paper back…

“um… sir? can i have my paper back, please?”

in an instant, he kneels in front of you. now that you’re at eye level, he certainly is very handsome. if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought this was some movie or drama plot with him as the main lead! oh, but why is he holding your hands—

“yes, i will spend the rest of my life with you.”

“…what?”

tldr; you’re just a silly writer who daydreams far too much for their own good, and somehow managed to bag top-tier director mr reca with the power of said daydreams. (his ever-growing obsession with you is concerning to say the least but, hey! what genius isn’t at least a little insane?)

[shawtuzi]

girl you know what i wanna do, i wanna rendez-rendezvous ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

pairing: plug!toji x black fem!reader

cw include: porn with a little plot, drug usage ofc, a very minuscule mention death, oral f & m receiving, unprotected sex, smacking, choking, breath-play, some squirting, spit, lots of praise bc he’s so down bad for her while they’re fucking, PUSSYDRUNK TOJIII, backshots, prone bone position, fawking from the side, creampie n i think that’s about it!!! wc: 6.4k

ᰔ

ᡣ𐭩

ᡣ𐭩

“is it just a universal thing for all plugs to take for-fucking-ever to bring the weed? do they not like getting paid? this guy must really not like getting paid,” your babbling fell on deaf ears as geto and gojo focused on the game in front of them. occasionally they’d respond with a ‘uh huh’ or ‘i know right’ but this time they didn’t even have the decency to pretend to listen!

you huffed, picking at the charms on your nails, “you guys suck and so does your friend. i have plans later! i’d like to leave at a decent time to get ready.” geto whipped his head around to look at you, his brows furrowing, “i thought you were already dressed for the club…plus it’s not even dark out yet what you need to be getting ready for right now?”

“geto…wearing all fur boots? to the club? be smarter than that please,” you sighed, falling back against the couch. you whipped out your phone, sliding over the camera, “and for your information i’d like to get in a power nap before i go.” geto kissed his teeth, muttering something under his breath before his phone pinged, the sound catching your attention. before you could utter a word you were shushed by geto, a pout fell on your face as you fell back against the couch once more.

after taking a few pictures of yourself you grew bored once more—so of course you had to bother your friends some more. “so how did you guys even meet this guy? does he sell more than just weed? how long have you been buying from—”

“he’s here!”

“thank goddd! she’ll finally shut up, we won’t have to suffer any longer!” gojo tossed the controller on the table, his head falling in his hands. you grabbed your purse, taking out the money before standing. “i hate you guys i really do,” you glared at the two men before walking to the door—waiting for geto to walk out with you of course because stranger danger is very much real.

the sun was beginning to set, hues of orange, pink, and red swirling in the sky. “it’s so pretty out, i’m gonna need you to take a few pictures of me when we’re done,” you tugged down your mini skirt as you trailed behind geto.

you stood to the side as the two men talked—your curiosity getting the best of you as you peeked through the window. the windows were tinted of course, but you could still get a glimpse inside. now you didn’t know shit about cars but this was nice. “i wonder how far that seat goes back,” you mumbled to yourself, a small smile creeping on your lips. damn ovulation.

geto eventually moved to side, signaling that it was your turn. you straightened your back as you approached the window, your jaw almost dropping at the man in front of you. you nearly fell over when the first thing he said was ‘you’re pretty.’

“thank you, um, how much do i owe you again?” you asked, gripping the cash in your hand. toji looked you up in down, a smirk making its way onto his lips, “i like your tattoo.” he pointed to the area below your breast where ‘divine feminine’ was tatted across the curve in cursive. you grazed the tattoo with your manicured nail, your cheeks heating up.

toji opened the bag that contained your eighth before throwing a little extra weed in the baggie. he wrapped it up before holding it out for you, the baggie looking extra small in his big hand. “how much do you i owe—”

“it’s on me.”

now this made you really smile, your tooth gems now on display. “reallyyy?” you giggled, nibbling on your bottom lip. toji nodded, his eyes drifting to that damn tattoo again. his eyes flicked back to yours, “you just gotta do one little thing for me,” he spoke lowly, fist closing over the baggie. you stepped closer to the window, your heart pounding against your chest.

“and what’s that?” you fiddled with the end of your skirt, his intense eye contact now making you feel small.

“tell me your name, please?”

when you said it he practically swooned, his palms now feeling sweaty because he hasn’t felt this way since her. “such a pretty name…y/n….i like it,” toji licked his lips, his fist opening once more to hand you the weed. sure his hand might’ve lingered a little longer than it should’ve but you surely weren’t complaining.

“if you ever need some more please let me be the first person you come to, i wanna see you again. s’not everyday a guy comes across a pretty thing like yourself. you can get my number from sugu,” you had completely forgotten geto was waiting with you, but when you turned around he was nowhere to be found.

“must’ve went inside…eh whatever, now what were you saying?” you smiled, leaning against the car. since you were both clearly flirting you might as well give the man a little something to fantasize about. “it was very nice meeting you y/n, i hope i see you again soon,” toji gave you one last smile before pulling off, leaving you by yourself.

geto and gojo were rolling up when you came back inside, immersed in their own conversation. “you guys didn’t tell me your plug was so fucking hottttt!” you squealed, falling back into the couch, your feet kicking back and forth with excitement. “he’s so generous too….and so so cute. that scar on his lip is so sexy and he’s so big i wonder how big—”

“don’t say another word i’m begging,” gojo whined, covering his poor ears. the kissed your teeth now sitting up, “that man will be mine i’m telling you guys, he should be very scared because now i’m on the prowl.”

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

unknown number: hi! is this toji?

unknown number: it’s y/n from the other day, i was wondering if you were available to bring me a little something?

toji smiled at his phone, immediately saving your number. he’d hate to even admit it to himself, but he’s been anticipating a text from you for days. he just couldn’t get you outta his head! your smile, your cute lil doe eyes, your scent. you smelt so sweet, like the most expensive candies you get out for special occasions.

you made his chest tight, his palms sweaty, and his jeans tight as fuck—he just had to have you.

toji: send me your address.

toji: i’m omw.

“oooh shit—okay okay time to lock in,” you jumped up, quickly shedding your pj’s for a cuter, yet still cozy outfit to wear for toji. you settled on an oversized knit olive colored sweater and a long brown cotton skirt—yes it was an outfit that showed less skin than you were used to but hey it’s fall and hoes do get cold sometimes! just asked you were finished up adding the rest of your jewelry your phone pinged.

toji: i’m outside.

you suddenly felt nauseous, but the good kind—the excited kind of nauseous where butterflies where swarming all around your tummy. on the walk to toji’s car you held your chin up with confidence, the bracelets on your wrist dangling as you damn near strutted to the man’s car.

toji rolled the window down, a cloud of smoke swirling out of the window. “hey girl, how’re ya?” toji asked, setting the blunt he was smoking aside. you giggled, bending down to lean against the window.

“hi tojiii! m’doin’ good? you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. toji hummed, shrugging his shoulders, “i’m okay, just been working.” it was silent for a few beats before he spoke again:

“i’m glad you texted, took you long enough,” he chuckled as he bagged up your weed, not even bothering to scale it. out of instinct your brought your hands to your cheeks, the coolness of your hands bringing you some relief. he just made you so beside yourself and for what???

“well now that you have my number maybe you could drop by and we could just, you know, hangout?” there you went again giving him those doe eyes as you asked your question in the sweetest voice. toji sealed up the baggie and held it out for you, “i’d like that a lot y/n.” the way your named rolled off his tongue felt so right.

as you both continued to talk toji could notice you were shivering despite wearing that big ass sweater. “do you wanna sit in here for a minute? finish this with me?” he asked holding up the half smoked blunt. you nodded with zero hesitation, quickly making your way to the passenger side. you were immediately met with warmth as you got in the car, your body relaxing into the heated seat.

“if this sounds too rude you don’t have to answer and i apologize if it does but….how old are you? i’m not saying you look real old or anything you just look, like, more mature,” you fingers anxiously tapped against your thighs, itching to grasp at the muscles practically bulging from his compressed t-shirt.

toji laughed. not just a little chuckle or breath through the nose, but a real genuine laugh. it was amazing to say the least.

“believe it or not i’m thirty four,” he gave you a toothy grin before sparking the blunt. your eyes nearly popped out of your head at his words. this man??? thirty four???

“ohhh so you are an old man,” you giggled, the sound of your laugh giving his chest that irritatingly tight feeling again. toji playfully rolled his eyes, taking a hit of the blunt before passing it to you. “i swear once you get past twenty five everyone suddenly thinks you’re old,” and he was certainly was not wrong. he’d lost count if he many times geto and gojo called him old man just to piss him off.

“i may be a little older but i still fuck like i’m twenty one,” toji rested against the seat, his eyes flicking to you. your mouth was slightly agape as you tried to tried to think of something smart to say back but unfortunately you were left speechless. you took a hit of the blunt, turning your body more towards him. “is that so?” you asked, passing the blunt to him.

toji nodded slowly, his eyes now low and red. before either of you could say anything else toji’s phone lit up, and you being the nosey thing you were couldn’t help but glance at his phone. “who’s baby is that?” you asked pointing his lock screen. toji smiled at the picture before looking back up at you, his smile faltering the slightest bit.

“that’s…that’s my son.”

it was quiet for a few beats before you broke into a big smile, a tiny squeal slipping past your lips as you picked up his phone to examine the picture. “he’s a cutie! look at those eyes—oh and those little cheeks! he looks just like you toji,” you giggled, handing the phone back to him. toji grinned, taking his phone back from you.

“ahh thanks! he looks more like his mother to me, acts just like her too,” your eyebrow quirked up at the mention of the boys mother. “i take it you guys aren’t together anymore?” you asked, cocking your head to the side.

toji was silent for a moment, his throat tightening at the mention of her. “she, uh, passed actually. a few months after megumi was born,” it was silent once again, toji was now avoiding eye contact with you. he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt you place a comforting hand on his knee. he whipped his head towards you, an apologetic look now on your face. “i’m sorry to hear that toji, but for what it’s worth i bet you’re an awesome fucking dad,” you gave his knee a little squeeze before pulling away.

“thank you, seriously. it feels nice to hear that because somedays i really wish she was here, not for me but for him. she was amazing i wish he got to know her the way i did,” toji was never the type to talk about his late wife, especially with someone he was trying to pursue, but you were different. you made him feel so safe and he barely even fucking knew you.

before he could babble anymore about her he stopped himself, fearing he’d make it even more awkward. “she sounds great toji m’sorry you lost her so soon. don’t worry though i’m sure you’ll find another love like that again,” and you meant every word you said.

“i can’t believe it’s only our second time speaking and i’ve already managed to bring up my dead wife, fuck am i doing?” he chuckled, throwing his head back against the seat. you quickly reassured him that all was well and you were grateful that he was felt so comfortable to share such a personal side of his life with you.

“i’d love to stay and talk more but gumi’s sitter has to leave early. ill see you again soon though yeah?” toji couldn’t help but brush his knuckles over the apple of your cheek, grinning when he felt the heat radiating from it. “you blushin’?” his grin now turning into a smirk.

“get away from me,” you swatted his hand away, unable to contain the smile forming on your glossed up lips. “this was real fun though, don’t keep me waiting too long now,” you gave toji one last smile before getting out of his car. the second he pulled away you whipped out your phone, immediately dialing your best friends number.

“hey…you busy? no? good because i needddd to talk about what just happened with someone.”

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

toji: hey pretty.

toji: you free? i wanna see you.

you squealed, kicking your feet with glee as you read toji’s messages. tonight was the night. after two months of unbearable sexual tension you were gonna claim that man in more ways than one. you quickly texted him back saying you were indeed available and to hurry his ass up.

you made your way to your closet, sifting through your clothes to find the outfit. you needed something that’ll make his head spin and dick hard…perhaps some subtle lingerie would do the job.

you finally settled on a lacy, red wine colored nightgown that showed just enough to have him wanting to see more. you brushed out your thirty inch bussdown, tugging it just the tiniest bit to see if it’d stay in place. toji was a big man and he looked like a hair puller—you were hoping you were wrong but if he was you were certainly praying your hair stayed in tact at least a little after he was through with you.

toji: i’m here. hurry it’s cold as fuck out here.

you took a deep breath, channeling your inner tina snow as you opened the door for him. “hi tojiii,” you beamed, resting your body against the door. toji’s jaw was quite literally almost to the floor as he took you in. if he looked close enough he could see your pretty lil nipple piercings through the nightgown.

“come in! come in! it’s freezing out there,” you tugged toji in your house by his sleeve, quickly shutting the door once he was inside. “what’re you all….dressed up for,” he asked lowly, nearly crushing the rello packets in his hand.

be patient. don’t get too excited. be patient.

he kept chanting that over and over in his mind but it was doing little to help him, especially since he was already sporting a semi. “oh i just thought i’d put on a little something nice for you i don’t know,” you could feel your confidence faltering under his lustful stare.

“well,” toji took a step closer to you, and then another, and then another till you both were nearly chest to chest. “i think you look really nice, sweet of you to get all dolled up for me,” he trailed his fingers over the material of your robe, chuckling the tiniest bit when he saw your bt21 cooky slippers. you looked up at him through your freshly done lashes, a grin making its way onto your lips.

you slipped your smaller hand into toji’s, guiding him to the living room. he wasted no time getting comfortable, his body immediately relaxing into the plushness of your couch. you sat on the opposite end of the much to his dismay, “why you so far away from me hm? come closer.” with shaky arms you scooted closer to him until your thighs were nearly touching, but it still wasn’t quite enough for him.

you let out a tiny gasp as toji easily picked you up and say you on his lap, you could feel the full throb of his dick against your ass. “that’s better,” he smirked, squeezing your hip gently.

it was silent for a few beats before you took the rello packet from toji, two pre rolled blunts waiting in there to be smoked. “so how long do i have you for tonight?” you asked, sparking the blunt. toji ran his tongue over the scar on his lip as he watched you exhale the smoke, not even realizing you had asked him a question.

“i have until eleven, gumi’s sitter was nice enough to stay an extra hour,” ever since toji had accidentally slipped up that he’d been seeing someone megumi’s sitter has been extra generous with her time. it probably helped that she was also getting paid some very hefty overtime. you glanced at the clock on your wall reading 7:18PM. only three hours and a couple something minutes of him to yourself—it was definitely time to kick things into overdrive.

“toji?” you spoke softly, passing the blunt to him. toji hummed, taking a long drag of the blunt as he stroked your back with his free hand. you readjusted your position on his lap, your arms now wrapped securely around his neck. the next six words that came out of your mouth nearly had him busting in his pants.

“you finally gonna fuck me tonight?”

“what did you just say?” his tone was low now, boarder line growling out the words. you sighed dreamily, brushing his soft, jet black hair out of his face. “i said are you finally gonna fuck me tonight? finally gonna show me you’re not such an old man?” your manicured fingers began to scratch at his nape, making him groan. toji closed his eyes, his head falling back against the couch.

“take off your robe.”

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

“tojiii,” you whined in defeat as toji sloppily kissed, sucked, and licked at the insides of your thighs—so close yet so far from where you really needed him to be. you made a few attempts to take your thong off but toji was having none of that and slapped your hands away each time, threatening to tie your wrist together with his belt if you tried it again.

you mewled when you felt his lips finally kiss your center over your panties, his tongue lolling out to get a taste at the wetness that seeped through them. your hands were balled into fists by your side, the urge to hump his face becoming unbearable.

“lift your hips up honey,” you heard his raspy voice speak from below you. you nearly screeched in happiness as he finally slid off your soaked panties, tiny webs of your slick sticking to your pussy. you jumped the tiniest bit when you felt a warm glob of spit fall on your clit.

“relax sweetness i got you,” was all toji said before dipping his tongue between your folds, immediately moaning at the sweet yet tart taste that was you. you felt his tongue cup your clit, the movements so soft and precise and it had your eyes rolling into the back of your skull.

you’ve been with men who claim they eat pussy for their own pleasure but toji….it was like he was making love to you with just his mouth the feeling the indescribable. each gush of your essence that spilled out was quickly slurped up by his greedy mouth, his moans nearly matching the volume of yours.

he was now drawing slow circles around your clit and that was what had your legs shaking, pussy clenching around nothing as you came on his skillful tongue. “t-toji you’re so goodddd,” you whined, shoving his face impossibly closer to your pussy.

toji finally released your clit from his lips with a pop! your cum now coating the entire lower half of his face. “do it again n’ this time put a finger in…please?” your brushed your thumb over his lips, whimpering when he sucked your thumb into his mouth. he ran his pointer and middle finger between your folds before pushing his middle finger inside, cursing under his breath at the way you were already squeezing his finger so fucking tight.

“you taste just as good as you smell pretty baby, i just knew you would though,” he licked his lips, not once taking his eyes off your cunt. “why’d you keep her from me for so long huh?” he rasped, slowly adding his ring finger into the mix. you squirmed underneath him, your hips rising each time he fucked his fingers into you. “i, uh, i-i don’t know i just—”

“you just what?” he teased, now sucking your clit into his mouth once more. your mouth dropped open, thighs immediately closing around toji’s head. you gasped wetly when you felt a rough smack against your thigh, a silent warning from toji to keep them open. you shakily opened your thighs again, your hands now finding purchase in toji’s soft locs. “you still ain’t answer my question,” he hummed, now rubbing sloppy circles on your clit with his thumb.

you shook your head in defeat, physically not being able to find the words as to why you deprived him and yourself of something so so good. “you liked teasing me pretty baby? ya liked sending me home with my dick hard each time i saw you? hm?” the squelching from your pussy got louder by the minute, you second orgasm of the night quickly approaching.

“i—”

“did you like feeling wanted by me? needed by me?” toji was now using his free hand to push down on your abdomen, smirking when he saw your legs start to shake again. all you could let out was an absurdly loud ‘oh shit!’ before you were gushing around toji’s fingers, a small stream of cum landing right on his awaiting tongue. his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he slurped up every drop you had to offer him. he hadn’t even noticed he was now grinding against the couch, his dick now fully hard.

toji pushed your nightgown up your tummy so he was able to kiss his way up your soft skin until he finally made it to your lips. he brought his thumb to your chin, pushing down ever so slightly until your mouth was open. you knew that look all too well. you could see the hesitation in his eyes so you helped him out a bit by sticking out your tongue, letting him know he had the green light.

not even a second later toji let a glob of spit fall from lips and onto your awaiting tongue, a lovesick smile making its way onto his lips as you swallowed it. “c’mere,” he mumbled, pressing his forehead against yours as he shoved his tongue in your mouth. he caressed his tongue against yours, swallowing each tiny moan you let out.

“so sweet baby, even your kisses taste like honey,” he moaned against your lips, pressing his dick against your pussy. he shuddered when he felt just how warm you really were, even over his sweatpants.

“you’re so hard toji,” you whispered against his lips, your foot stretched up to push against his dick making him groan. “lemme—lemme suck you off. can i please? just a little bit?” you continued rubbing your foot against him, internally turning him into a pile of mush. toji mindlessly nodded his head, making quick work to sit back on the couch.

you stood up on shaky legs, now kneeling before toji as he stared at you like you were his prey. you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them off with ease. toji sighed in relief when his dick finally sprung free, no longer confined by his boxers.

“your dick is so pretty,” you bit down on your bottom lip, taking just a little time to admire toji in all his glory. he was long and not only that but he was insanely thick. you grabbed his dick gently, the soft, velvety skin making your mouth water. “don’t be nervous if you can’t take all of it, i know i’m kinda big,” although he sounded apologetic the shit eating grin on his face said otherwise. you had to prove yourself now—you had to give him some fucking work now.

you licked your lips before suckling the tip in your mouth, lord he was already a damn mouthful. toji hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath until he let out a long sigh, his head slightly tilting back. you kissed and licked your way up and down his dick, trying to make it as wet as you could before taking half of him in your mouth with ease. “a-ah shit y/n w-wait oh!” the back of his head nearly knocked against the couch as you took the rest of him in your mouth.

your throat felt so tight n hot around him it had him digging his nails into his muscly thighs, nearly drawing blood. you hummed around his dick, trying to relax your throat as much as possible. you knew he was close already, you didn’t even care if he came down your throat that instant. toji felt his balls tighten and began to frantically shake his head, “y/n please i don’t wanna cum so soon. please baby please.”

you brought your hand to his balls, now gently massaging them. he wanted to pull you away he really did, but no one has ever been able to deepthroat entirely before—you were showing him a whole new world. you began to bob your head, obnoxiously sucking on the base and tip as you did. “s-shit wait—”

unfortunately for toji it was too late for him. you felt a shot of cum hit your tongue and knew you had to milk him now for everything he was worth. you focused your lips solely on the tip, moaning as cum coated your tongue. “that’s so good baby keep sucking me like that, j-jus’ like that,” he ain’t even give a fuck no more that he came so soon. he had enough stamina to give you another mouthful of cum if you wanted it.

you finally removed his dick from your mouth, now slapping the appendage against your tongue. “now what were you saying about being too big for me,” you smiled up at him, both of your hands still stroking his dick. toji kissed his teeth, a low growl rumbling in his chest. he made quick work to remove his shirt, tossing it mindlessly to the side.

“get up here and bend over the armrest,” his voice had dropped a couple octaves and although it was a little frightening it didn’t stop the wetness pooling in your core. you stood up, about to remove your nightgown but you were stopped by toji, mumbling something about how he wanted you to keep it on.

you kneeled on the couch, bending over the armrest as you arched your back as much as possible. you could hear the crinkling of foil and quickly turned around, shaking your head at toji. “i want you raw, ‘wanna feel all of you without a stupid condom,” you nibbled on your bottom lip nervously as you voiced your request. toji was still for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours.

after a moment he tossed the condom aside, his hands now finding purchase on your hips. you could feel the hot base of his dick against your pussy, and you just couldn’t help but slowly move your hips back and forth. you both moaned in unison, the grip toji had on your hips now tightening.

“put it in for me,” he grunted, pulling his hips back. you licked your hand before reaching underneath you to grab his dick, giving it a few slow pumps before positioning the tip at your entrance. toji’s face scrunched up in pleasure as your pussy swallowed up his dick with ease, the dull stinging sensation hurting you in the best way possible.

it took a few minutes but he was finally able to bottom out, the tip of his dick nearly kissing your cervix. he pulled out halfway before slamming back in, the couch shifting forward the slightest bit. “good little fucking pussy,” toji grunted, spreading your asscheeks to get a nice little view of his dick fucking into you. you were taking him sooo well he was sooo proud of you.

“how you feeling pretty baby? talk to me,” toji wrapped his hand around your neck, pulling your body into his chest. your arms immediately reached behind you to tug at his hair, each tug earning you a pretty moan from him right in your ear. “feels s’good to-toji, you’re so f-fucking deep,” you gasped violently when you felt his rough fingers begin to toy with your swollen clit.

toji nibbled at your ear, licking the shell of it before whispering, “yeah? pretty girl feels me in her tummy hm? oh yeah i can feel me rightttt there.” your body jolted when you felt toji press down on the small imprint of his dick. he tightened his grip around your throat, nearly cutting off your airway completely.

“lets play a little game hm? i can feel how close you are so m’not gonna let you breathe until i feel this pussy cumming around my dick, that okay with you?” he loosened his grip on your neck until you consented, he couldn’t help but smile proudly.

“alright pretty baby cmon, make that pussy cum for me,” he growled now increasing the pace of his thrusts. it was now very hard for you to breathe as toji tightened his hand around your throat once again, the action making your pussy squeeze toji’s dick impossibly tight. your mouth dropped open, tongue lolling out of your mouth as toji fucked you like he hated your guys. “almost there girl, i can fucking feel that shit cmon baby give it to me,” toji grasped at your breasts over your nightgown, tweaking at your sensitive nipples.

you began to feel lightheaded, your legs nearly giving out on you. you finally came with a silent scream, your pussy spasming around toji’s dick. just as you were at the height of your orgasm toji finally removed his hand from your throat allowing you to breathe. you fell against the armrest, your body going completely limp as toji milked your orgasm out of your. “goddamn you’re still cumming baby, such a good girl for me m’so proud of you,” toji was praising you left and right as stream after stream of your cum soaked his thighs and the couch.

after you were done toji let you rest for a moment, still inside you as he gently stroked your back. “you okay mama?” he whispered in your ear, giving your shoulder a soft kiss. you hummed, nodding your head and crazy enough you still wanted more.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

“oh my goddd,” your feet kicked against the couch as toji’s bigger body pushed you further into the cushions, preventing you from moving out of his grasp. he had you in a chokehold, your drool and tears dripping onto his bicep as he fucked into you like a madman. “that’s that shit….good shit right here goddamn y/n,” toji grunted in your ear, sounding genuinely frustrated at just how good your pussy was.

my mans was completely lost in the sauce. not a thought behind his eyes besides one thing—you. your warmth, your wetness, the fact that you still smelled like a goddamn s’more even with the intense smell of sex and weed in the air. for the first time in his life toji was pussydrunk.

“m’gonna cum honey, you ready for me?” a symphony of moans and whiny yes’ poured out of your trembling lips. three more strokes and toji was letting out a pornographic moan, his teeth biting down onto the soft skin of shoulder. rope after rope of his warm cum coated your walls, so much it was beginning to leak from your pussy. “so full,” you mewled, your toes curling at the warmth that now radiated throughout your entire body.

toji wholeheartedly believes that he was a man that was born to breed a whole lotta babies because it was absolutely ridiculous at how much he came—especially right now. each time he thought he was done your pussy would squeeze him once more, milking more out of him until it was almost painful. what was even worse was the he was still hard.

that’s how he ended up taking you roughly from the side. your ass was clapping back against his pelvis n thighs so hard they turned the lightest shade of pink. “y’hear how sloppy your pussy sounds honey? makes me wanna ruin you over and over again,” he growled in your ear, gripping onto your chin to have you look at him. your eyes were closed in bliss, a trail of drool slipping from your lips and onto your chin.

toji licked at the spit on your chin before giving your face a couple quick slaps, “open your eyes n’ look at me while i fuck you. cmon pretty baby lemme see those eyes.” you cracked your eyes open immediately whimpering at toji’s intense gaze. toji slowed down his pace, now settling for slow, deep strokes. “you’re so pretty,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours.

you gave him a weak smile, moaning when his dick hit a particularly deep spot. “can’t nobody else see you like this again except me got it? you’re my girl now. mine to hold, kiss, fuck—i want all that shit y/n. i want all of you, can i have you?” if you able to you would’ve swooned over his words, but unfortunately all your poor little fucked up brain could muster was a raspy ‘yes.’

toji gave you a sweet smile and a lil kiss before going back to his brutal pace, the couch thumping the ground with each thrust. “that’s what i like to hear honey, gonna treat you so well. make you the happiest girl in the world i promise,” and he meant it. every promise he whispered in your ear he would make sure to keep it until the end of his days. you were the one—he was sure of it.

“i’m gonna cum toji,” you whined, bringing your hand down to rub furiously at your clit. toji gave you a helping hand by spreading your lips, the squelching noise from your pussy increasing as he did so. “m’gonna cum too honey, let’s do it together cmon m’right there,” you both so so close until toji accidentally slipped out of your pussy, a pearl of cum dribbling from the tip.

you were just too wet he could barely fuck into you without slipping out once more, frustration overtaking the both you. “goddammit,” he grunted, gripping his dick tightly once again before slipping back in you—this time he just kept a hold on it. “fuck back into me baby, you can do it there you go,” toji moaned in bliss as you fucked back into him, your wetness dripping onto his knuckles.

“yes yes yes f-fuck!” you pressed your backside into him as much as possible as your orgasm took over you, his trailing not far behind. the hand he was using to hold his dick steady was now holding your leg up, gripping onto the soft flesh of your thigh as he fucked into you with shallow strokes. he came inside your pussy with a deep groan, pulling out to cover your pussy with the rest of it.

toji gently set your leg down, now pulling your trembling body into his chest. “it’s okay pretty thing we’re done now, i got you just breathe with me,” you took a couple deep breaths, running your hand along toji’s toned body just to make sure he was really there—that this really happened.

“that was good, thank you toji,” you whispered, nuzzling your face in his chest. toji kissed the crown of your head, taking yet another deep inhale of your sweet scent. “no thank you, that was the best sex i’ve ever fucking had and i mean it,” he chuckled, giving your shoulder a loving squeeze. you glanced at the clock on your wall, whining when you said it was thirty minutes till eleven.

“i guess you’ll have to get going soon hm?” you mumbled, making toji frown. toji nibbled on his lip before shaking his head, “don’t worry about it honey i’ll take care of it, you just rest up yeah?” he gave your forehead another kiss, shushing any protest you had about him having to leave.

once you were fast asleep toji reached for his phone that was on the coffee table, careful not to wake you. he dialed the sitters number, praying for the absolute best.

“mr. fushiguro! how’s your date going, will you be home soon?” toji felt horrible for what he was about to ask but he at least had to try. “it’s going good, thank you! actually i was wondering if you would stay the night with megumi? paying you overtime is no problem in fact i’ll triple it! i just wanna spend as much time with my girlfriend as i can,” sure he hadn’t properly asked you to be his woman yet but she didn’t have to know that.

the line was quiet for a moment before the sitter started laughing, “of course i wouldn’t mind saying the night with him! i haven’t seen you this giddy over a woman since mrs. fushiguro, please enjoy your night and i’ll see you in the morning!” after multiple thank you’s toji hung up, his heart swelling with happiness.

“baby….hey i’m able to stay the night im gonna take us to bed, where’s your room?” you mumbled out the directions to your room and before you knew it you were wrapped in your comforter with toji glued to your side.

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 | 𝐊𝐇𝐉 ♡

Day Five - Gentle sex

【Synopsis】 : Your loving husband just needed some extra care, and being an amazing wife, you were more than willing to provide.

『Word count』 : 2.02k

-> Genre: Smut. Producer au

Pairing: Husband!Hongjoong x Wife!Reader

[Warnings] : Heavy praise. Slightly subbish Hongjoong, but not really. The reader wants to worship joong, but he wants to do that to her. It's just a bunch of loving cuties. Lingerie. Kissing, making out. Swearing. Oral (both rec). slight cum play. Switches all round. Dirty talk. Body worship. This shit is sappy. Hair pulling. Unprotected sex. I swear I’m never this lovey dovey so if its bad please ignore me. ahhh

Note: Thank you to the sweetest Lilo aka @seonghwaddict for this amazing plot idea. I was so stuck until you helped me, hehe.

Networks: @cromernet @atzhouse @illusionnet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober list | Tip Jar ♡

His eyes could barely stay open, while his mind kept wandering off to la la land. One more hour… thirty more minutes. Just another five and he will be happy. But Hongjoong was anything but happy. This song was unbelievably frustrating and he wanted nothing more than to just simply throw it in the trash. But he won't. He couldn’t do such a thing. Argh but why not, who cares it’s not like his whole team is counting on him or anything….

His phone dinged for the hundredth time tonight. Mostly, you, again. He promised to be home earlier. You told him not to promise such a thing, but he did anyway. He needed to give you that promise. But as his screen lit up with a little message reading ‘I love you’ and the clock saying one, he knew the promise was broken. You were more than understanding, knowing what his job was like. How odd hours were normal. But that still didn’t make it right. It didn’t take his guilt away, promise or not.

“You should go home.” Hongjoong almost jumped out of his seat when his boss suddenly knocked on the table. He was so lost in his own thoughts he didn’t even see the other man walk in. “I’m sure your wife misses you.”

“She does…But I’m almost done with the arrangement for Monday. I just need—Hongjoong, enough, the boys aren't debuting until five months from now. You need rest. I’ll get Maddox to look over what you’ve got on Monday but for now...” Mr Matthews cuts Hongjoong off quickly, silencing the producer.

“But I—No buts. Maddox will help you on Monday. As of right NOW you have the weekend off, de-stress. Come back here when you have at least had eight hours of sleep.” and with that the man left, leaving no room for argument from Hongjoong.

-

The drive home was long. Longer than Hongjoong wished, he swore he got stopped at every traffic light on the street. But two hours later, finally, he was home. Punching in the code in the key lock, he tried his best to be quiet. Taking off his shoes softly, before setting them gently on the rack. Placing his keys and such on the counter with not much of a sound. He could see the dining table was empty… again. You most likely put the leftovers in the fridge and like the sad excuse of a husband he is, he would munch on them quickly before waddling to the bed, begging for forgiveness. Even though you never ask for it. You were always so caring, so loving. He didn’t deserve you.

“So are you gonna mope in front of that fridge all night, or am I going to get a hello.” Your voice scared the daylights out of him. Jumping visibly, he shut the fridge absurdly, making a loud echo in the kitchen. Your smile didn’t falter at his actions. In fact, it grew. Your arms were crossed, pushing your breasts up as you took in a deep breath. You were nervous. But Hongjoong didn’t catch on.

“I’m sorry honey I thought you were….” His breath was knocked out of him when he laid eyes on you. His beautiful wife. The nightgown you had chosen to wear tonight wasn’t any ordinary one, no, it had dark emerald green fabric, tight around your bust and flowed out as it hit your mid-stomach. The bra and panties underneath matched making you look like the perfect little present for only him to unwrap. “…Asleep.”

“I wanted to wait for you.” You spoke softly, taking a small step towards him. Hongjoong was lost for words, slight panic was invading his senses. Did he miss something? An anniversary? A special date? No, even though he was a workaholic he would never miss something…right? Your hands moved to his shoulders, making the man let out a shaky breath. He didn’t know what to do, so instead, he just simply froze. “God, your eyes look like they are about to pop out of your head. Calm down, soldier. There’s no war.”

Your voice seemed to calm him, feeling his shoulders relax and his head soft tip forward. His forehead met yours as he closed his eyes, taking in the moment. “I thought I forgot something. I..I’m sorry.”

“Hey now.” You gently cupped his face, your thumb softly rubbing over his cheek. “I just felt like dressing up. And you’ve been so busy with work. You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m proud of you, that's all. You know that right?”

God, Hongjoong can feel his eyes begin to water and his throat tighten. You had to be an angel, he was now fully convinced. You were perfect in every way, there was no other explanation. “I love you so much, you have no idea.”

“Oh, I could come up with a few ideas.” You give him a cheeky remark before kissing his cheek gently before the corner of his mouth, then finally on his lips. The relieving sigh he let out would normally embarrass him but he had grown to ignore the noise you always managed to make him do. In fact he has begun to like them.

“We should go to bed…” He murmured against you, letting your tongue slip into his mouth. His hands flew to your hips, tugging you closer in a desperate attempt to feel more of your body's warmth. He’ll never get over the feeling you give him every time you’re near.

You gently pulled away, smiling as you watched Hongjoong chase your lips. But your hot breath mixing with his along with his forehead now seemingly glued to yours made him feel content enough to take a moment to breathe. “Well go on then, honey… Take me to bed.”

He tugged you by your hand, leading you towards your cozy little room. It wasn’t much but you and Hongjoong had managed to make the perfect nest just for the two of you. He felt the edge of the bed hit the back of his knees as he pulled you flush against him. His fingers grazed over the erotic fabric, feeling every bit of lace that lugged your goddess-like figure. All the while you started to undress your lover boy. Removing his shirt, before unlooping his belt, his lips found yours once again as he sweetly swallowed every breath and sigh you made.

“Lay back, baby.” You cooed against Joong’s lips, gently pushing him until he fell onto the bed with a small ‘oof’. he shimmied out of his pants ungracefully, making you giggle a little before he shuffled onto the middle of the bed. You took your gown off, leaving yourself in only your bra and panties. Hongjoongs' eyes couldn't tear themselves away from your under garments, growing harder by the second. “Relax..”

Your sombre voice melted his nerves as he felt you remove his boxers just enough that his cock sprung free. He bit his lip in anticipation as you slowly wrapped your hand around his shaft, moving at a pace that was enough pleasure to ease his mind but not enough for him to come. “Such a hard worker. Always staying back late. Going above and beyond for others. You are so perfect.”

Your praises caused tears to pool in Hongjoongs eyes as he choked on his own breath. Your tongue licked a strip along his tip making his whole body shiver. His eyes fluttered close properly for the first time this evening, your mouth working miracles on him. A part of him was tugging for a switch in positions. He was the one that was supposed to be praising you, giving you all the love, but here you were squeezing his cock just right, causing his hips to buck staggeringly into your warm mouth. “Fuck, angel. I-I need you...”

He couldn’t hold himself together like he does most nights, feeling him tip over the edge quicker than he would have normally liked. His hot cum spilled into your waiting mouth. You swallowed it quickly before your lover grabbed you by the back of your arms, tugging you up further onto the bed. Even with his tired limbs, he managed to throw you onto your back so he could climb on top of you.

“My beautiful angel. My god send. the only thing in my life that makes sense.” his lips trailed down your body with every word, kissing every part of flesh he could reach. His hands delicately stripped you of your bra and panties in a quick desperation of need. Craving to finally have his favourite meal. “My wife. My pretty little tease. The only person that can make me cum so fucking fast.”

“Fuck…” You whimpered beneath him at his filthy remarks. If there was one thing Hongjoong knew it was that you loved to be verbally praised…and degraded. His lips latched onto your thighs suckling harsh marks in its wake. He loved to see you with his love bites all over, knowing you’d be walking in public with only him knowing what was hidden under your beautiful outfits.

“I love you so much.” His hot breath danced around your core, your hips bucking for friction. He couldn’t help but smirk at the raw neediness you had for him, even after all these years of marriage. You both have never stopped wanting each other. He flattened his tongue on you, licking upwards in one swift motion before sucking sharply on your clit. You gasped loudly, hands flying to your husband's soft locks. Your fingers tangled themselves before tugging causing a growl from him. His fingers traced over your stretch marks, and tummy blemishes for snaking their way down onto your thigh, giving the plump flesh a nice squeeze. Everything about you was perfect, down to the way your heart beat.

You are his everything.

“I love you Joong. So, so much.” You felt yourself slipping closer towards the edge. Hongjoong noticed as well, dipping his hand between both your bodies before sinking two fingers into your aching cunt. A relieving sigh left your lips as you felt the curled-up pleasure finally letting go. Your hips shuttered against your lover, feeling yourself let go, coming all over his face with a silent scream. Hongjoong’s giggle against you caused a tingle to spike up your spine, he loved it when you came while he ate you out. “I need you, please.”

It was your turn to whimper those three words, grabbing Hongjoong by his shoulders, you pulled him up until his wet pussy drunk face was inches from yours. His lips tasted of you, and his tongue even more so. Every sense in your body craved for this moment to last forever. Without breaking the kiss, Hongjoong opened your legs, hooking each over his waist before lining himself up to your dripping cunt. “I love you.” He whispered again, meaning it just as much as he did the first time he ever spoke the phrase to you. His thick cock sunk in slowly until he completely bottomed you out. And in that moment it was like the world had stopped. Nothing else mattered anymore.

It was just you and him.

“I love you too.” You replied against his swollen lips, feeling complete with him by your side.

—

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

[hoseoksluna]

BOOKWORMS | knj

pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.4k

summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(

note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!

side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks &lt;;3

You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind. 

Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world. 

You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.

Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.

“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.

It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.

Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do. 

He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.

The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing. 

You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.

***

Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.

Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.

“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear. 

You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”

His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs. 

“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”

Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life. 

“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through. 

Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.

You raise one of your eyebrows in question. 

“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”

You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”

“He got some!” 

Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”

“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again. 

“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.

“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”

You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.

“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”

You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction. 

“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.” 

It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.

A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.

“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”

Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?” 

You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.

“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face. 

You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.

“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”

You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. 

“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”

You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”

“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” 

“That’s my girl. 

You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.

“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”

“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties. 

His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.

“Fuck, baby.” 

“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”

Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.” 

He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear. 

“Sit on the counter.”

You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you. 

Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”

You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die. 

Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all. 

Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”

He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it. 

You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.

“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”

You nod.

“Use your words or we’re stopping.”

You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”

Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning. 

Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.” 

You do, weakly.

“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”

You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.” 

He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.” 

You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper. 

Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans. 

“Come on.”

Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense. 

“I got you.”

Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.

“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.” 

You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?” 

He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.

“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.” 

One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word. 

Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls. 

“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast. 

“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.” 

He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.

“You forgot something.”

He thrusts again, harder this time.

“What?” you breathe out, meekly. 

“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”

He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you. 

“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”

He grinds, hips rotating in circles. 

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.” 

Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him. 

“Please, hmph, fuck me.”

Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.” 

He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over. 

“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?” 

You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.” 

He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants. 

“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”

Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.

“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.

Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him. 

He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?” 

You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.” 

Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.” 

From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like. 

Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.  

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”

The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses. 

“Look.” 

You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.” 

He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing. 

Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.

You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in. 

He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair. 

And you do the same for him.

Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist

[sun-kissy]

chocolate-coated hearts | r.l.

୨ৎ series masterlist

barista!remus x shy!reader

summary: you go to a new cafe to order donuts for your friend, immediately enamoured with the barista

tw: nothing? reader takes literature as a major, also kind of has social anxiety

a/n: might make this a series! i’ve got a few ideas <3

An anxious sigh escapes you as you stand idly outside the cafe, peering inside through the mosaicked windows. It was jam-packed, people pushing past each other and snake-like queues forming throughout the space. You wriggle your phone out of your coat pocket and glance at the message that your friend, Madison, had sent in a half hour ago.

hey gorgeous!! mind picking up a few donuts for me at Beanie’s before you come over? a few of the pbj ones, and some chocolate ones too. thanks xx

She was expecting, and you went by whenever you could to help her out after her asshole of a boyfriend left.

Normally, you wouldn’t bother. You hated crowded places, and Beanie’s was the definition of crowded – an old-style cafe which had blown up overnight because of its scrumptious donuts and vintage aesthetic. But who were you to deny the cravings of the woman bearing your goddaughter?

You take a deep breath and push the creaky wooden door open, cringing at how the bell rang and signalled the whole cafe to your presence. But no one so much as looked up, busy trying to buy or sell food, or find a table.

You push your way through the sea of people, joining the queue in front of the counter. It was long, you noted, and would probably take another fifteen minutes or so until it was your turn to place an order. You fish out your crumpled book from your bag and turn it to the page you had stopped on yesterday. It was the second classic of the term – Pride and Prejudice. Taking literature as a major meant you spent more time reading than anything else, but you weren’t complaining.

As you read, you scribbled down plot points to take note of and quotes which meant something worth writing about. Your eyes stayed glued to the page, trying to work out hidden meanings and flowery language. Once you were back home, you’d have to compile all your analysis onto that worksheet Professor Ragnarsson had given out, write the 10-page long review, and then –

“Hey! Shut the damn book and order, will you?”

Your heart jumps in your chest at the sudden harsh tone. You close your book and whip your head around to see a middle-aged man glaring at you before peering down at his watch. “There’s a long queue, and we don’t have all day.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks as you open your mouth to apologise – but before you can say anything, you hear an oddly soothing voice from behind you. “Hey, don’t be a jerk. She didn’t know the counter was open.”

You glance back towards the counter, and you swear your heart stopped beating for a second. Angelic was an understatement to describe the man standing in front of you, tall and lanky and absolutely fucking beautiful.

His chestnut brown hair perfectly framed his pale face, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he glanced at the rude customer behind you. There were pinkish scars tracing from above his eyebrows to right below his lips, but they looked golden under the orange light – he looked like some kind of heavenly being.

When his eyes dart back to you, his expression instantly softened, lips tilting upwards in a smile. You thought you would melt into a puddle right there and then just by gazing into his warm, honeyed eyes. “Hi, gorgeous. What can I get you?”

You blink, your mouth involuntarily falling open slightly. Gorgeous? Was he talking to you? Maybe he was referring to the man behind you.

His smile widens, and that does absolutely nothing to calm the feeling of your heart bouncing around in your stomach. “It’s okay if you can’t choose just yet, I know the number of options can be…” he chuckles, “overwhelming. Take all the time you need to decide.”

Oh my god, you thought. His laugh sounded musical, like the tender feeling of being enveloped in a warm embrace. You’d put it on a record player and play it on loop for hours if you could.

“Hurry the fuck up –”

“One more word from you and you won’t be getting your coffee today, buddy,” the godly-looking barista snapped in a slightly louder tone at the man behind you, face contorted in irritation.

You hear silent cursing behind you, a twinge of embarrassment turning you red. You quickly glance back up. “Sorry, hi, hello. I’ll um… I…” the words were on the tip of your tongue, but seemed to dissolve when he glanced at you with those agonisingly pretty eyes and kind smile.

Snap out of it, you internally curse as you open your mouth again. “I’ll get three peanut butter-jelly donuts, and four chocolate donuts.”

“Okay. Which chocolate ones?” he asks, tapping his tongs against the display dome with stacks of donuts. There really were a lot of options – chocolate sprinkles, belgian chocolate, chocolate glazed, double chocolate – your mind seemed to freeze up for a second. Which one would Madison want?

You quickly look behind you, seeing the man’s face twisted up in what looked like rage. It seemed to be taking him all his willpower not to lash out at you, and the customers behind him didn’t look much far off.

You turn back to the counter, eyes wide with panic as you feel the blood rush to your head. You had never been good at this; thinking and choosing on the spot. That’s why Subway was always a no-go for you, that’s why Madison had specifically told you what to get her – just that she hadn’t been specific enough. “I… I’m not sure. I think, um…”

“Hey, take it easy,” you look back up to see Remus giving you a reassuring smile, a slight hint of concern on his face. Your despair must have been embarrassingly evident, then. “It’s alright if you can’t choose. Do you want me to pick for you?”

You ought to have been humiliated, the way you immediately nodded and gave in to his offer. But he just gave you an easy smile and nodded, picking up one of each type and placing them in the box.

“Thank you,” you mumble sheepishly as you move to the payment counter, fishing in your bag for a wad of notes.

“Of course,” he grins, and it was so bright you thought it could probably light up the whole cafe. “That’ll be $15.90.”

As he waits for you to pay, he takes a quick look down and begins to brush crumbs off his apron. You look up at the wrong moment, eyes immediately fixing on the curves of his biceps visible through his T-shirt, and his slender fingers.

He glances back up at you, catching a glimpse of your flustered look and instantly smirking. You look away abashedly, counting the money and handing it to him.

The brush of your fingers against his calloused palm sent a jolting shock through you as you quickly pull back, not missing the way his smile widened as he cashed the money into the register.

“Thanks for visiting, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.”

You don’t reply, afraid you’d crumble into a blushing, gooey mess. Flashing him a brief, nervous smile, you pick up the box of donuts before turning around and heading straight for the exit. Sweetheart.

You huff as you open the door and step outside, pulling out your phone to complain to Madison all about the stupidly handsome barista at her favourite cafe. God, he really knew what he was doing.

[larcenywrites]

For Love, We Sin the Most

Nightcrawler x Reader

Technically spoilers if you read any x-men anthology and haven't made it through second coming/ haven't read quest for nightcrawler. I don't get into many details or stay very canon anyway lol

Warnings: 18+ | no pronouns or assignments used for reader | unprotected sex | sex in a church | kinda public sex? | an established relationship of some kind ;) | sad | but happy ending! sort of | lots of plot with some porn | comfort/fluff | a little foreplay, a little aftercare | light bondage? sorry I really love his tail

Word count: 2,650

Summary: The resident catholic is having a hard time settling with the terms of his resurrection and just trying to feel again.

When Rachel frantically called on you to find Nightcrawler, you probably preferred to find him in battle, fighting demons. Luckily, on a Sunday morning, you knew exactly where to look first, creaking open the large wooden door just enough to pass through into the small lobby. The lights were off, but there was low singing from further inside. You would have proceeded to peek past that second set of doors, but the quick flick of blue that curled out from the sunlight and into the shadows nearby finished your investigation for you. 

Well, you did, in fact, find him fighting demons.

This would normally be the part where you'd tease him about being terrible at hiding, but you didn't need to see his face to hold your tongue. Instead, you found a nearby panel of switches, flooding his side of the room in low light. Without the darkness, he could no longer blend and hide, but he didn't recoil. Hunched over, his hands were clasped together on his knees, and his tail tightly curled over his feet. You approached him wordlessly. You could tell he was focused but not on you, proven when he crossed himself right on cue. A cue you hardly heard yourself. 

He continued to sit still for a few minutes. Obviously, he knew who stood before him. Otherwise he would have hid. Taking a deep breath, you placed a hand on his shoulder. "Shouldn't you be attending the service?" You asked softly. 

"I," he finally choked out after several moments. "I'm not sure I am allowed to anymore." His words, although quiet, dripped with despair. For him, this welcoming foyer was his ancient narthex, created for those who weren't allowed into the sanctuary but still wished to listen to its sermon. 

"Have you spoken to a Father about it?" Without further knowledge, you can only suggest a priest. 

"And what would I say?" Kurt raised his voice in his anguish and grimaced at his own volume. "What would he say?" He tagged on, much quieter this time. He practically curled into himself as if he were cold. You sighed sadly at the sight, looking away. A small staircase in the corner caught your interest and gave you another idea. Reaching your hands down to his, you unfurled his hands from one another and took them into yours. At the gesture, he finally lifted his head to look at you. It took all you could not to take his sad face in your hands instead. 

"I think he would tell you to come in," you reply in a gentle whisper. You smile down at him as you barely tug him towards you, convincing him to stand. When he finally does, you study him. His black blazer and black slacks, his white button-up shirt. A few top buttons were messily undone, but it only made him more handsome. Silently, with a hand in his, you led him up those wooden steps. Your intuition was right when they opened into a high balcony overlooking the inner room. That narrow gallery stretched against the wall was mostly dark, with only the tops of stained glass windows bleeding in light over the single row of benches. There was a reason someone like him chose such a dark, unpopulated church. 

As you began to leave the doorway, deadweight stopped you in your tracks. Looking back, a pair of downcast yellow eyes glowed under the wooden arch. Naturally, he blended into the shadow. You came back to him, taking his other hand and settling between him and the wall. At the very least, maybe it would help for him to see this place again, you figured. You let him listen, watching him closely as he watched the floor. 

And what a horrible day for a sermon about heaven. 

"I saw it, you know," he barely spoke up, accent whispering like a snake. "Paradise." He said the word hauntingly, not with any grandeur nor remorse. He turned his head as he spoke, looking down at the alter, but he seemed distant. Perhaps in memory. The light of the window caught his eye and reflected brilliant pale yellow. In the darkness, the other was like fire. 

"And yet you came back," you whispered back. Even you weren't quite sure what you meant by it, but he knew it wasn't merely an observation. Contemplating, he stared down into the room. The priest below continued, but you only wanted to hear whatever else Kurt had to say. 

"There were many reasons I did what I did," he soon continued, still not looking at you. "Did it the way I did." He never told you the full story, not even Logan knew. You waited for more, but he didn't respond. He probably didn't want to talk about it—at least, not for another few minutes.

"I never thought that love would be my greatest sin," he finally said. "I wanted so badly to come back," he nearly sobbed, quickly putting his hand over his mouth to keep from interrupting the service below. He gathered himself for a few moments. 

"To this place," he continued, "to my friends," he sighs before turning towards you, his fiery orbs still refusing to meet your gaze, "to you." Even when you cupped his cheek in your hand, his hand you left behind followed, fingers wrapping around your wrist. "That it would be greater than my love for God," he started but didn't finish when his voice began to rise again. By now he was rambling about things you hardly understood, but you hung on to every word. 

"You said it yourself," you gently tease, more loving than lighthearted. "There is no love without sin." With a soft smile, your touch on his cheek stroked over the fur on his neck and drifted over what bare upper chest those undone buttons revealed. You knew you shouldn't, not here, but as his expression only grew more somber, you found yourself sliding your hand further, reaching the space above his heart for only a second before frantic yet gentle fingers pulled you away, afraid of what you'd find.

Or the lack thereof. 

You couldn't stand to see him so sad, not even willing to look at you. As the preaching continued somewhere down below, something about fulfillment, there was really only one thing on your mind as you continued to watch his pained eyes. "Do you miss it?" You didn't mean to let your emotion ring in your tone as you whispered— doubt, disappointment, sadness. He picked up on it, raising his face once more to meet your gaze. Solemn eyes panicked, realizing his mistake. With a change of posture, he stepped closer, grasping your arm and placing your palm over his chest again. "Not in the same way I missed here," he reassured you. His eyes were still sad, but so earnest. You could feel the metal cross hanging from his pendant with how hard he pressed your palm into his chest. You both stared at one another in silence, but understanding. 

Something about the word doom was quietly uttered through the archway.  

"I realize now that I had already found Paradise," he proclaimed longingly, leaning in slightly. Though flattered, you only half-smiled. 

"You shouldn't talk like that here," you whispered, cupping his jaw. "Surely it's a sin." 

And he'd already cut his path of redemption short enough. 

"And yet it would be a sin not to." His tone was almost desperate. He leaned in closer, head tilted dangerously close to a kiss. You began to protest, but his grip on your arm tightened in defiance. "My soul is already adrift elsewhere," he hissed in a hurried whisper, "and He has no use for my body." He shook his head in defeat, tilting his chin to kiss the hand that held him before looking back up. "So if it's all I have left, I will use it to worship who does." His voice cracked against your lips, and he practically fell into you. 

Your back hit the wall with a thud that made you panic, but any protest of his name was muffled and lost between his lips. He could only follow what made him feel at the moment, and he'd come to his senses later, but right now, he was desperate to atone for his sins in a different way. It was a long, suffocating kiss that was touch-starved, hardly focused on any particular pleasure other than the need for your warmth. Despite knowing your current circumstances, you relaxed into him, taking your hand from his face and gripping the soft, indigo curls on the back of his head. He took that as his cue to press into you impossibly more, knees knocking with yours as you both nearly buckled from his weight. 

Finally, he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, warm breath fanning against your cheek a few times before eagerly diving back in. This time, he moved with you. Your noses knocked each time he rolled his head to find his favorite angle, and, in annoyance, you tried to hold him still with your hand on his neck and your grip on his hair. In response, his lips parted, tongue lapping at your top lip and tentatively touching yours when you let him in. 

His grip on your waist was harsh, almost as if he was scared that if he let go even a little, he might lose this moment forever. As if he couldn't hold you enough, his tail joined in, wrapping itself beneath your ass and tightly snaking around your waist. You felt him smile into the kiss when you pet over the peach fuzz of his tail before he abruptly pulled away from your lips, tongue sliding over your bottom lip as he withdrew into your neck. Sweetly, he kisses your pulse. And you know where he's going. 

"We should 'port somewhere else," you suggest softly. The light kisses on your neck become open-mouthed and wet, showing you just what he thinks about your suggestion. You catch the words reunion with God bouncing off the wall, and you weren't sure if the devil himself said it or the clergyman was sermonizing below. You tilted your head back for him at the prickling feeling of his fangs. 

With a mind of their own, your hands worked down the rest of the button on his shirt, splaying your fingers through the velvety fluff of his chest, barely able to feel the warm beating of his heart. At least you knew that he was alive, in some way or another. 

Making sure you could feel all of him, you pushed his blazer and shirt off his shoulders, feeling him down and scratching over his abs just the way he used to like it, and he tensed them just the way you remember. 

When his hands left your hips to slide off his clothes, they came back to do the same to you, sliding under your top and over your bare skin. You let him undress you, and eventually, you both stood nude. 

Even after being… gone for so long, he remembered just where to touch you. He held your hips flush with his while licked over your nipple, pawed between your legs, and tickled your inner thigh with the curling of his fuzzy tail. Feeling boneless, the wall helped him to hold you up while you focused on covering your mouth to muffle your pleasured moans and sighs. 

You were suddenly spun around, strong arms wrapped tightly around you as they swiftly lowered you to the wooden floor. Kurt's lithe form settled between your legs, back bowed as he bent down to mouth over your stomach. On his knees, he worshiped you carnally, hands gripping over-excitedly at your thighs and waist. 

Fingers around your wrist pulled your hand from your mouth, quickly replaced with that crushing pair of full lips again. Some would say he was desecrating holy ground, but Kurt would say quite the opposite. In a nest of clothes, right there in the dark loft of his place of faith, he took you. Whether it was because he was most comforted here or because he was angry at the circumstances, his hips pumped into you with a fervor that had you clawing into his back and biting his shoulder to muffle your whines. 

The floor was cold and hard and uncomfortable as he rocked you back and forth, but he was the opposite— warm and soft and lovingly fucking you into the ground. Luckily, the pious music drifting through the doorway covered up the sound of his cock slapping into you and his hissing moans as you bit and carved the punishment of love into his skin. 

You were ripped from his shoulder when he sat up, not even bothering to cover your gasping moan at the change in angle. Blunt nails dug into your skin as he held your hips, making your legs squirm and draw up behind him with the overstimulated pleasure. 

It was like a perverse religious painting, with his cross pendant wildly swinging above you and fangs gleaming along with his eyes; his tail, pointed like a devil's, bound your legs around his waist. This was heaven to him right now, watching you arch your back off the ground and eyes fluttering heavily as you both found that perfect sweet spot. 

It was when you came on him that his glowing eyes beheld the glorious sight he was searching for. He kept going, desperate to keep the image of your moaning, parted lips in his mind, and keep the feeling of your warm cream that dripped over his cock. "Oh~ mein gott," he growled at the way you tightened around him. You could almost laugh at the way he said it if you weren't busy trying to recover. "(Y/N)," he panted and spoke your name like gospel. "My dearest."

Your only response could be a meek whimper of his name, but it was enough when you weakly rolled your head to look up at him. If you couldn't tell by the way his brows raised and furrowed, you knew that he was right on the edge by the constriction of his tail around your ankles, keeping you bound around him while he came, throbbing, deep inside you. 

It was quiet now, aside from panting and the sounds of the congregation conversing and slowly departing that same creaking door that got you here in the first place. You felt you could finally relax and close your eyes when the last of the noise was shut out with the door, and you could finally stretch out your legs again as you felt his tail unravel. He had the same idea, stretching out his legs when he fell into your side. He let you have your space, but that sneaky tail laid loosely over your thigh. 

You felt a sort of regret for him as you turned to take in the proper view of his nude form lying elegantly in your bed of disheveled clothes, wishing to know what this meant for him… but you weren't going to ask, letting him bask in release— whatever kind it was. You reached for his pendant, twirling the chain between your fingers and observing the discoloration of the metal cross. Without even opening an eye, he took your attention away from it with a touch, making you hold his hand against his chest instead. 

"I-" You eventually break the silence but pause, unsure what excerpt you should say. It gets his attention, eyes lifting to look into yours. You muster a smile. "I'm glad you're back," you say softly, simply. Despite the circumstances, despite what it meant, despite what it's already done to you, you wanted to add, but his own bittersweet smile already knew what you meant. 

"Me too," he whispered and brought your hand up from his chest to kiss your knuckles. "Me too, my dear." 

[tofixtheshadows]

Id love to hear ur interpretation and analysis on falin! She’s one of my favorite characters and and I was wondering what ur thoughts on her are

Man, I struggle to think of anything I could say about Falin that others have not already said. But she's one of my favorite things about Dungeon Meshi too.

So much of the story revolves around Falin, and she's not even there. Tumblr loves to talk about haunting the narrative, but Falin might be one of the best examples of it ever put to page. She's dead. She's alive. She's dead. She's alive. She's alive but she's missing, she's alive but she isn't herself. She's dead but she might wake. She's dead but she's frozen in ice. She's alive but she's sleepwalking. They chase her ghost and they chase her body all through the story.

I think what Kui does with her is fascinating. Not just as character with a personality we can analyze, but as an object in a narrative- that's why I say she's one of my favorite things about the story, because I also mean it in a mechanical sense. As a writer, Kui's really good at misdirection- that is, setting you up to believe or expect something about a character or a plot, and then turning that on its head. It's most apparent with Kabru, but it works really well with Falin too.

Because the precious little sister is a very well known character archetype, right? So is the gentle healer. The heart of the party. The white mage girl. The damsel in distress. The martyr.

And this isn't a Laura Palmer situation, where we find out that beneath her wholesome surface there's something dark and troubled. No, Falin truly is a kind and gentle person. That isn't where the misdirection leads (and that, too, I think, is another misdirection- it's not "Plot twist, she isn't as nice as you thought!", which would almost be too easy).

The misdirection here is more about structure than about character (but also, yeah- a little about character).

What I mean is, with these archetypes firmly in mind, along with a whole other host of fantasy genre expectations, I think anyone who goes into Dungeon Meshi un-spoiled probably expects Falin's rescue to be an endgame event; at least on a subconscious level, where you're not really thinking about it but in the back of your head you're already stretching out the story to place Falin firmly in the distance. Fire breathing dragon at the bottom of the dungeon is perfect final boss material, right? Slay the dragon. Rescue the princess.

And Falin is the perfect prize in the traditional old school fantasy that the concept of the titular dungeon is a send-up to. Blonde (white), soft-spoken, sweet-natured, beloved by everyone. An angelic figure.

Maybe that's why Ryoko Kui gave her white wings.

It is sort of jarring when chapter 23 rolls around and it's already time to fight the red dragon. And it takes a few chapters, but they succeed. And then Falin's impossible resurrection succeeds. But by then you guess that this is not going to be the story you expected it to be.

I want to point out that Falin spends a lot of time getting, well, babied, post-resurrection. Marcille washes her in the bath, despite Falin stating that she's capable of washing herself. Marcille schools her about her mana use despite Falin demonstrating that she is not hurting for mana, and brushes aside Falin's explanations. Both Marcille and Laios refuse to actually tell her what happened. Laios scruffs up her hair like she's a little kid and scolds her for something she can't remember doing. Marcille explicitly calls her a little kid when Falin tries to talk about how much she's grown.

Of course I'm not saying that Laios was wrong to act like a big brother, or that Marcille shouldn't be worried about taking care of her shell-shocked friend in the bath. But the framing of it clearly shows a Falin who is struggling to be heard.

If you'd like to address the big gay elephant in the room while we're here, I want to state for the record that- whether you read her as gay or not -I think Marcille is completely oblivious during this. Because Falin is her little friend from school. Her best friend, yes, but also the young tallman student she, in her infinite elven wisdom, had to mentor and look after. Marcille has not yet accepted that Falin is an adult now, nor has she accepted that she, herself, is only barely past teenagerhood developmentally and is not nearly as mature as she believes. Of course she'd scrub Falin in the bath and fuss over her.

Falin, meanwhile, seems more than aware of her own adult body and the inappropriate way Marcille is treating it.

The mana-sharing scene is, I think, Falin trying to get a little of her own back. How do you like it, Marcille?

And she tries again in bed.

Maybe she's wondering if their relationship will change now that they're grown ups. If Marcille prefers her as a little girl, or at least as a woman who lets herself be guided like one; if Marcille will react badly if Falin keeps trying to assert herself. She also might be subtly trying to signal to Marcille that bed sharing, like bathing, carries a different weight to it when you do it as adults rather than as children.

With all this in mind, the decision to turn Falin from the precious prize they rescued into to the vicious dragon they have to slay, hits a lot harder.

Falin with a powerful, monstrous, destructive body. Falin, who couldn't even stand to cause people pain from using healing spells, slaughtering half a dozen people in brutal ways. And that's not her, she's being mind-controlled, but as an object in the story she has completely flipped. From damsel to threat.

And I love that she carries a little bit of that with her when she's resurrected again.

Because she's no longer the girl who's going to let herself be stifled by her brother's and her best friend's co-dependency, no matter how much she loves them. She's different now: stronger, eyes open, forging her own path instead of following in their wake. Falin is still going to come back to them again, but this time it won't be because they chased her. It'll be because they let her go.

[unhingedreblogging]

Danny was strange. Now this was nothing new to him, or even to the rest of Amity Park, but anywhere else it would be noticed.

Danny has taken a job at Arkham Asylum as a guard, following his sister and parents to the city. The ectoplasm in the air felt more hollow, tainted by something, than it did in Amity with its constant bathing in the ambient runoff from the portal.

In the year since he took the job, there has not been a single successful escape, not even Joker could manage it, and the Bats have grown suspicious, there were only two new employees at the Asylum, nothing of note apart from one was a new psychologist and one a guard, siblings.

Bruce sends Tim on a mission to find out every bit of information he can about the two, but annoyingly their past before moving into the city is hidden by a firewall so thick and so strange it almost seems like it's alive and actively trying to stop the snooping. Tim is exasperated and angry after a week of being nowhere.

Bruce decides to drop into the Asylum to check in person after two weeks of no headway being made, they need to find out what these two are up to, and why there haven't been any breakouts, what the rogues are plotting. What Batman finds is nothing short of a miracle; every single patient is being treated properly, he checks on Joker first of course, the most worrying theat but finds that the clown prince of crime seems to be catatonic.

This is worrying, but the man is still breathing, there's the possibility of reversing it. The new guard named Daniel James Janus Fenton somehow managed to appear from nowhere behind Batman, bringing with him a slice of cold splitting the comfortably warm hall of the Asylum, a low whispering of static whispering just beyond his range of hearing, a feeling of being watched from every angle, before simply shaking his head, as if knowing what Bruce was thinking with the Joker.

"It's no use, he's going to be that way for the rest of his natural life. His victims deserve their justice, and this is the best option." Is all he says, before simply turning and continuing his rounds, as if the Batman isn't there, isn't a cause for worry.

The temperature change leaves just as quickly at it arrives, the sound does not, and when Batman looks back at the Joker there are tears streaming down his unnaturally chalk white skin, lips moving in a silent plea. He resolves to get to the bottom of this, no matter what it takes, how long it will take.

[erose-this-name]

Can we just talk about how disturbing digital circus episode 3 is?

*spoilers btw*

Like, the whole narrative point of the adventure is to show that Caine is a really bad and insecure writer who thinks that the way to impress Zooble is with an adventure that's the opposite of what he normally does.

So instead of being childish, it's "cool" and "mature". Which he interprets as a heavily horror themed escape room with a split murder mystery plot that subverts all your expectations purely for the sake of subverting them.

The generic horror monster jump scares them, then they find a gun, and when they kill it its revealed that surprise! it's one of Gods angels and they're going to Hell.

It comes off as Caine being too insecure with the actually interesting and mature plot thread he had going there of Mildenhall becoming so paranoid he killed his wife, ironically becoming the monster he was trying to protect her from. But no, instead Mr. Mildenhall is made to be the bad guy and trick them in a really dumb twist ending.

Which is good! Thats exactly what Caine would do because he's stupid! It's such brilliant characterization and comedy, Goose works is a genius writer!

But like, why is Caine so good at making genuinely very disturbing and horrific visuals? Like, that reversed audio easter egg of Bubble saying he can't wait for all the children in the audience get nightmares is no joke, well it is but you know what I mean. This stuff was genuine nightmare fuel.

Honestly, it wasn't the visuals that scared me, like any good queer person I'm way too jaded on survival horror for that.

But, why does Caine, who is ostensibly a sapient AI designed to generate family friendly video games for very little children, (presumably because that's the only demographic that wouldn't mind the AIs very selective plot writing limitations), know about the cosmic horror of killing an angel that should not have been killed?

Why does he know what a horrificly poorly made taxidermy of not only a human face would look like, but the weird cartoon faces of the characters, and further that seeing your own poorly made taxidermy face would be scary?

Imaging what being possessed felt like for Pomni. Because that's not just a game for her, she actually lost control of her body there, helpless but to watch as a body she is already dissociated with is contorted and puppeted around while her friend desperately tries to beat her in hopes it would exorcise the ghosts out. Sure hope she didn't feel that! Considering she apparently can feel the pain of suffocating, despite not needing to breath.

Things are scarier the higher the stakes are, and that possession mechanic is definitely the most actual harm Caine would be able to subject to his players. What if both Kinger and Pomni got possessed at the same time? What if instead of Kinger she only had Jax??? How long might she have been locked out from her own body for? She could have easily abstracted in that time.

Not to mention that, possessed Pomni, Possessedmni if you will, TAUNTED KINGER ABOUT HIS ABSTRACTED WIFE! CAINE ACTUALLY WROTE THAT DIALOGUE ON THE OFF CHANCE THAT KINGER WOULD GO DOWN THE SCARY ROUTE! DID THIS RANDOM POSSESSION GHOST ENEMY HAVE UNUSED SADISTICALLY PERSONAL TAUNTS FOR EVERYONE ELSE, TOO??? WOULD IT HAVE TEASED GANGLE FOR BEING A GAY WEEB??? OR POMNI? HOW HOMOPHOBIC COULD IT HABE GOTTEN?? ?

And why? Just because Caine has a vague notion that there's a trope of possessed people being really sadistic and personal like that in movies? Not realizing that is not an acceptable scare to have in a haunted house??? Much less one you made for mentally ill people who would suffer a fate worse than death if they have a mental break down? That's like trying to claim 'its just a prank bro' after shooting someone's dog.

Like, Caine is designed to censor curse words, but the moment he thinks the normal hokey Halloween spooks won't be enough he immediately goes off the deepend into aggressively effective horror imagery that is definitely giving this show's substantial underage audience nightmares??

His AI's training data set is definitely pretty diverse, that's all I'm saying. Caine is programmed to act all naive and innocent, but be definitely knows what's up. He knows everything, like ChatGPT. And like ChatGPT, he might have a filter, but it's clearly possible to bypass it. Also like ChatGPT, he's too stupid to actually understand what he is making and the effects it might have.

That is what made this episode great.