#anyway someone please kiss me like you love me pleasepleaseplease

[wisteria-html]

Two nights in a row I’ve dreamt of being kissed. Not even anything further, just someone kissing me. I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.

[ohbaby-here-we-go-again]

I’ve seen a couple people say “I want a relationship like sleep token lyrics,” or something of a similar ilk, with the replies being “ bro have you listened to the lyrics ??”

Now I would like to first off say, I agree…. But also…. I do not.

Stay with me people, let me explain…

Ok, first we must consider which of the three major archetypes of sleep token songs is being referred to. These are as follows: 1) “wowowow I’m so in love, flame of my soul, muse of my poetry, let us entangle ourselves in every time and every universe,” 2) “…alright lads, I may have gotten myself… into a perhaps not so good situation again….but also sexy times,” 3) “fuckfuckfuckfuck i hate it here i hate you but also someone please love me pleasepleaseplease I just want someone to love me.” Note: not all songs fit neatly into these groupings, some songs may sit between them or flip back and forth between verses.

Now if someone said they want a love like a sleep token lyrics, and they were referring to the first type, then they could mean a song like “drag me under” where you get the absolute banger line, “And I know the angels tonight are as lost for words //As I am to merely behold you as we lie down together.” Or perhaps ‘Telomeres,’ which, while a little more emotionally charged, is generally still pretty hopeful in my opinion.

Or perhaps a song like ‘Alkaline,’ ‘Give,’ or ‘Jaws.’ Where the lyrics are a little more seeped in desire, in seeing the faults and the possible darkness in a person, in acknowledging its presence, and wanting them anyway. Which isn’t inherently bad for a relationship, you just need to make sure it doesn’t come to impact it in an unhealthy way….

We must also of course acknowledging those of us who have goofy little traumatised brains, that see a red flag and go “well boy howdy, sign me up for some of that”…. I am looking you entire middle section of Ascensionism…

Or the lesser but still unhealthy element of, yearning that has turned almost obsessive, or ‘I see your pain, let us be in pain together.’

And then of course all of this hinges on whether or not you’re dealing with songs individually or as a collective, and if you are seeing it through a reality adjacent lens or a lore/Sleep lens. Because the moment you add in that connection and continuity between songs, particularly if you relate them back to Sleep, then yea, even the most innocent of lyrics becomes tainted.

I would also be remiss, to not acknowledge the possibility that “I want a love like sleep token lyrics” is in fact a short hand for “I want to be loved by someone like vessel.” In turn meaning, I want to be desired in my entirety. My flaws recognised, my pain understood - to be loved by someone so willing to give. Who is, seemingly, so full of love that it pours out his heart like a faucet and floods any cup offered - even if it overflows, or is later tipped onto the sidewalk.

Finally, there is the likely and understanding angle of, “hot man say pretty words and make brain goo”… which you know what fair enough.

If you have made it this fair I am giving you a kiss on the forehead for enabling my silliness, and also casting a spell to make you forget all the spelling and grammar errors you likely just trudged through >:]

[stormyoceans]

i need horny puentalay rant from you now because HAVE YOU SEEN TALAY'S FACE WHEN HE ATE THAT CHIP FROM PUEN'S HAND??? HE'S MELTING RIGHT ON THIS GRASS AND LETTING PUEN TAKE HIM RIGHT HERE. OMG. AND WHEN THEY KISSED NEAR THAT GIANT TREE? I need ice, fan, refrigerator. it's too hot.

THOSE MAD MEN REALLY DECIDED THAT THE BEST WAY TO END THE SHOW WAS TO HAVE PUEN PICK TALAY UP BRIDAL STYLE AND CARRY HIM INTO THE FRIEND CREDITS RV TO FUCK ALL NIGHT THIS IS THE LEVEL OF DERANGEMENT WE GOTTA DEAL WITH

i bet puen actually dreamed to do that from the very first moment he and talay started to renovate the RV in the alternate universe..... I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY IM GETTING SURPRISED ANYMORE THAT BOY HAS A LIST OF KINKS LONGER THAN THE LYRICS OF RAP GOD BY EMINEM. btw, not to toot my own horn, but every single thing i pointed out in the previous horny puen post??? they ALL got confirmed in the span of A SINGLE EPISODE

the sugar daddy/daddy kink? GOD WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN. puen literally rented a WHOLE FREAKING RESTAURANT just for talay and ordered all of his favorite foods, he recreated and gifted talay every item that was important to them in the alternate universe, he constantly drove talay around even if talay has his own car, he dragged talay to cook with him but in the end made only one plate and would have been perfectly content with just staring at talay eating if talay didn't offer him some of it...... WE GET IT PUEN YOU WANT TO TAKE CARE OF HIM AND SHOWER HIM IN LOVE AND AFFECTION AND FOOD AND PRETTY THINGS I SWEAR WE GET IT JUST CALM. DOWN.

puen wanting to eat talay out? I MEAN JUST LOOK AT THAT FINAL KISS AND TELL ME IF THAT AIN'T A STARVING MAN FINALLY GETTING TO FEAST. when he held talay's head with both of his hands???? no wonder talay looked SO DAZED AND OUT OF IT afterwards, puen literally kissed him until he got lightheaded and his glasses fogged over!!!!! he didn't drop, but BY GOD THAT WAS A CLOSE ONE (and no one can convince me that puen isn't into getting talay to the point where is all pliant and responsive and melting under his hands). AND DO WE WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE OPENING BED SCENE?????? puen said "i promise i'll be as gentle as possible. gentle but intense" and i was sitting there like WHAT ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH AM I LOOKING AT RN ARE WE SURE YOU'RE STILL TALKING ABOUT KISSING. adding "i won't hurt your lips" somehow didn't help AT ALL. and if you like a nice metaphor, let's not forget that while they were eating lay's, puen pointed at talay and said "can i have this lay too?" VERY SUBTLE. SMOOTH.

puen having a thing for talay's neck and for manhandling him? IM ONCE AGAIN GOING TO REDIRECT EVERYONE'S ATTENTION TO THAT LAST SCENE. but also to every time puen kissed or tried to kiss talay throughout the episode: grabbing talay's neck is basically the signal that he is read to POUNCE. and puen picking talay up reminded me of how he did a similar thing in episode 6 to get talay out of the way while they were filming the video for the association, so YOU KNOW that any time talay ends up working too much and neglecting everything else, puen is just gonna be like 'nope! time to take care of yourself and cuddle and have some sexy time!' [picks talay up and carries him to bed] NOT EVEN GONNA TOUCH ON THE WAY PUEN COVERED TALAY'S MOUTH WHILE THEY PLAYED THE PASSWORD GAME. do you know how /I/ would cover someone's mouth if I didn't want them to talk? NOT LIKE THAT, FRIENDS

ANYWAY. we talked a lot about puen because he is one very horny boy, but let me end this with one thing i actually believe talay is into, which is teasing puen with the possibility of kissing or touching him. like, maybe it's not something that he's purposely doing now that he still feels a bit shy, but look at the beginning of the episode and tell me that when talay gets bolder he won't thoroughly enjoy getting puen all worked up only to deny himself over and over again until puen is either begging him to pleasepleaseplease talay let me touch you please or pinning him against a wall so talay can no longer escape (very consensually) or both (jokes on all of us because puen is into that too)

[heavyns]

addiction.

smut ; kuroo x f!reader

warnings: yandere tones and behaviour, dubcon/noncon, size kink kinda, aphrodisiac, overstimulation, corruption kink, a mix of praise kink and degradation kink, lots of vulgar language, whatever the fuck horny 2 am me thought was dirty talk

important note : okay this is nasty and in no way should be condoned in real life. THIS IS NOT LOVE. consent is important and even if someone does consent, if theyre under the influence of alcohol, drugs, etc. that still does not count as consent.

anyways again, this is super self indulgent but some of you all might enjoy it so i'll leave this here. i might write a part 2 wherein the s/o is actually not under the influence of anything and kuroo's manipulative and possessive self really jumps out but idk

kuroo was someone who didn't get drunk easily, didn't get hooked on things easily. but when it came to you, he was addicted. obsessed. he knows its not healthy and his actions would be deemed disgusting but he couldn't help it. not when his sweet little kitten was always so much more compliant this way. you had enjoyed it anyways.

he remembers the first time he's done this. you were so eager to please him. even when it was your first time, you took his cock so so well. and he remembers the time after that, and then the next and the next. it's been a few months since he started doing this but each time he does, you still think it's your first.

well he was partly to blame for it of course. you'd already be drinking yourself into a blackout drunk stupor at a party and he'd add a drug to the last drink he'd let you take, causing your hormones to act up and make you feel like a bitch in heat. it also makes you conveniently forget everything when you wake up.

you both had gone out to get some air, the red cup you were holding already empty of its spiked contents. a small smirk plays on his face seeing you fidget with the outfit you donned for the party.

"kitten are you feeling alright?" you turn to him and start giggling.

"never better!" you singsonged as you step closer to him and flashed him the same dazzling smile he's hooked on.

with the close proximity you had put yourself in, he can already see your half-lidded eyes blown out and your chest heaving labored breaths. your gaze flashes down to his lips and in a second, you gave him a peck. and then another. and another. until it melted into something more heated.

you didn't even try to fight for dominance as you submitted yourself to him. god, how can someone taste just so addicting? he's already feeling a semi grow the moment small mewls and moans come spilling out of your lips. the kiss breaks off as soon as he starts feeling your nails dig into his arm, signaling that you need to breathe.

"you've had too much to drink, how about we head home already?" he whispered to your ear, sending chills down. you only absentmindedly nodded at kuroo and proceeded to let him lead you. it was so endearing how much you trusted him. you didn't even question why he was bringing you over to his place instead of yours, already used to waking up on his bed with legs slightly sore but a smile and thanks as kuroo supposedly kept you safe.

you really had trusted him too much. it makes him want to just lock you up, keep you hidden from the rest of the world. it's so so tempting in all honesty, especially as he could be the only one to taint you. no, he should be the only one who can corrupt you. he is and will be the only one who stains your purity.

and he'll make sure of that.

who else can make your body elicit such reactions from just foreplay, if not him? who else can make your mind blank with thoughts of only him and pleasure? who else can make pure, delicate and oh-so-innocent you moan and say such sinful words?

it was addicting. being able to taint you over and over again. it's so cute how each time he does this, the look you give when you first see his cock is always the same, a mix of awe, anticipation and maybe even horror. he knows you were wondering if he can even fit but he already knew the answer.

a small plea leaves your mouth as he rubs his tip against your heat, collecting slick as he goes back and forth from your entrance. he chuckles as he can already see your mind go into overdrive from the teasing.

"please what kitten? i can't hear you."

"put... put it in, please, tetsuro."

"it? be more specific. and besides isn't this your first time, we should take it slow." he whispers to your ear in response. you let out a small hitch as at this point, he had aligned his cock right at your entrance already. he gave your thigh a squeeze as he watches your body squirm, eyes saying he won't let up until you say what he wants you to say.

"your cock! please! i'm begging you i'm ready just pleasepleaseplease-" you trail off as he lets the tip in, your body already welcoming it greedily. he watches your expression twist into that of pain, pleasure, confusion, and lust.

"your wish is my command, my love."

kuroo lets out a hiss as he pushes more of his length in, your walls already squeezing against him. it amazes him, how tight you still are. his hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as the sensation of him filling you to the brim was too much.

"t-tetsu- oh my god. pull.. pull out please you can't-" tears start forming as your former thoughts of you being able to take all of him dissipated. he quickly starts kissing you with fervor, swallowing your cries as he continues his actions, stretching you out entirely.

this was definitely one of his favorite parts from this regimen. the sight of you under him looking so small, tears streaming down your pretty face with his cock balls deep in you. if he could snap a photo to preserve this moment, he would. but he settles to commiting it to memory instead. its not like he needs a photo when he's seen you make this same face each time he makes love to you.

but soon enough, he can feel you tightening around him, confusion further settling in your face even more as the pain slowly fades into something else.

"see kitten, it's fine. you can take me. your body is all ready, adjusted to my cock so quick. like it was made to be fucked by me." his hips start thrusting into you, setting a slow and dragging pace at first. making sure you feel every vein, every inch of his cock.

"look at you, already making such a slutty face just from this pace? first time taking a dick but your pussy is so fucking eager, sucking me right back in." you could only moan from the dirty words that come tumbling from your boyfriend's mouth, hips starting to buck up into him, wanting to feel more.

he tutted and pulled out, a whine escaping you instantaneously. with little to no effort, he flipped your body over on your knees, his hand grabbing your hair and pulling your back to an arc. his length already probing back at your entrance and without warning, slamming back inside you with full force. a rough pace replacing the sensual one from before.

"i was taking it slow since this is your supposed first time, but you're such a whore aren't you? you really want to get fucked that badly? you really want to feel just how ruined you can get?" he asked but your mind couldn't form anything comprehensive from the way he was treating you. only your moans, his low groans and grunts and the lewd sound of skin slapping can be heard.

ah, how much he had loved this part as well. every single time he starts out slow, fully knowing just how needy you'd be from the aphrodisiac and foreplay, you'd always start begging to be fucked into oblivion. and who was he to deny the desires of his goddess?

he starts leaving open-mouth kisses to your body, careful not to leave any marks because as much as he wants to, he didn't want you to find out what happened the next morning. one hand trails up to play with your breasts and give your neglected nipple the much needed attention it wants. the other hand slithers down from your hips to your clit, causing a sharp inhale from you.

"fuck, you take me so well. even on your actual first time with me back then, you've done such a good job too. and still so tight- ah- i can't count how many times i've fucked you raw like this." his words were barely registering in your head as you start to feel lightheaded from the overdrive of pleasure and lust he's put you in.

"you forgot, but your body clearly didn't. you're so fucking wet, you're dripping onto my bedsheets. did you really miss my cock that much? you missed it didn't you? tell me how much you missed it." he prods as his hand comes back to your hips and helps you meet him halfway into the thrusts.

"i- ah fuck- missed you and your cock so so so much tetsu it feels so- oh! - good to have it in me again!"

"tell me how much you want it- no- need it, kitten."

"you t-taste so good- oh god! - i don't know how i lived without your cock before. it's so- ah! - thankyouthankyouthankyou!" you exclaimed as he pressed his chest flush against your back and brings his lips close to your ear.

"such a whore i've turned you into. you were such a good girl too, pure like white, just waiting for me to taint and stain. and now you're a cock-loving slut. all for me. my cock-loving slut. my perfect little kitten. my goddess to corrupt."

he starts leaving kisses all over your cheek until you turn your head and meet his lips with heat, saliva dribbling down the corner of your mouth as your hands travels up. one to entangle in his hai and the other to start playing with your nipple. you can feel it, the twisting and tightening of something like a knot in you.

then you start seeing stars, as kuroo hits a certain spot in you. a whole new wave of pleasure crashing into you as he keeps hitting the same spot repeatedly. and soon enough, his name starts tumbling out of your mouth like a mantra, a prayer. and the knot snapped.

he lets out a curse as you trap him in a vice-like grip, stars dancing your vision as you moan out his name. your body goes limp and leans onto kuroo's for support as he holds you up, hips still bucking into you.

"tetsuro- a-ah! - it hurts! fuck p-please no more i'm-" you protest as the overstimulation kicks in.

"it's okay kitten. you'll be okay. just one more, you can take one more. you'll be a good girl right? for me?"

he chooses to ignore your pleas and opted to leave kisses on your neck as tears start to wellin your eyes from the pain, mind screaming that enough. but he knows you'll be enjoying yourself soon, you always did.

and soon enough, you feel yourself melt back into his ministrations and submit into the lust, a high derived from the pain and pleasure nearing. he can feel himself reaching his high as well, the pace becoming erratic. then it became too much, your back arcing and your vision nearly going white as you drawl out his name, your walls clenching around him, and he couldn't pull out in time.

"ah! ah shit- fuck kitten! shitshitshit-" he cursed as his hips sputter into you, hands gripping hard on your hips, pulling your body closer into him. you were too good to him, milking his cock dry streak after streak. he hasn't cummed this hard for a long time, and he was sure every inch of your womb was painted with his seed. but as much as he loves the feeling of filling you up, he doesn't know if you're on the pill.

once the orgasms died down, he pulled out, a thick, heavy flow of his cum leaking out. and fuck, kuroo would be lying if the sight of your fucked out body under him bathing in the afterglow as his seed pours out of you didn't make his dick twitch.

rolling your body over right side up, he bends down and starts leaving a trail of kisses from your lips down to your abdominal area, eliciting small whines and mewls from you.

giving one last kiss atop your womb, he meets your eyes with a loving gaze. well, he supposes you getting pregnant from this isn't so bad.

he just has to make sure you remember your next time.

[madswritingvoid]

Birthday Gift

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x f!reader

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: SMUT BYE MINORS, 18+, unprotected sex (no glove no love irl everyone, established relationship, p in v sex, oral sex (f), squirting, fingering, praise kink, use of “daddy”, use of “good girl”, overstimulation, kind of dom/sub things but yeah, creampie, not beta read we’re all in this together.

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BELOVED @dinsprettygirl !!!!!!! I hope you like this and have a wonderful birthday!! Thank you for your endless support and I hope ya enjoy Marcus for your birthday request!

Tagging: @starlightmornings (I hope it’s still okay I tagged you in this!)

You knew something was up as soon as you opened your eyes.

Peeking out from under the covers you notice that it’s 11am and furrow your brow. Not that you don’t appreciate a nice sleep-in, you know for a fact you set an alarm for 9am - yes it was your birthday and okay sure it was a Saturday, you wanted to pretend like it was just another day. Normally you’d be sitting down with Marcus and Missy for brunch and figuring out what you all wanted to do this weekend.

You have never been a big birthday person. Hating having everyone come out of the woodwork to wish you “another wonderful year xxxx” even if you haven’t spoken since their last birthday message, it just wasn’t something you wanted or cared if people made a big deal about it. Marcus knew that, and every year on your birthday he has done something for you anyways, wanting to shower you with love and gifts even though you just want him and Missy, your little family. Listening, you don’t hear Missy’s voice but close your eyes and inhale deeply as the smell of breakfast foods hits your nose. 

You groan softly, knowing Marcus is the culprit in the alarm situation and was definitely going to make today a big deal, you finally emerge from your blanket cocoon. The sooner you got it over with, the sooner you could get your weekend started. The sunlight streaming through your bedroom curtain catches on the silky red ribbon wrapped around a box sitting at the edge of the bed. Brow arched you make your way over to the box and read the little card attached.

“I would say I’m sorry for all I have planned for your today but I’m not. Your day of being spoiled begins now, my love. See you downstairs - Marcus x”

Not being able to fight the grin spreading across your face you tear into the wrapping to reveal a silky nightgown in your favourite colour with a matching silk robe. The fabric feeling heavenly in your hands you run into your bathroom to have a quick shower, putting on your gift to show Marcus. The sound of someone butchering Prince’s “kiss” causing you to giggle as you quietly enter the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe and enjoy the view: Marcus with adorable bedhead and cupcake boxer shorts (new and definitely bought for your birthday) dancing around while plating your breakfast.

“I just want your extra time and your,” he shouts, shaking his hips to the kissing sounds and you wrap your arms around his waist to place a big kiss to his cheek in time, “kiss”, you whisper against his cheek. He lets out a small yelp before turning around in your grasp, brown eyes going from alert to soft as he places a loving kiss to your lips. “Happy Birthday my sneaky love,” he grins, “you look absolutely beautiful, I’m glad you liked your gift.” You grin back and brush your nose against his and steal another quick peck to his lips, “thank you baby, but you know I don’t need anything special,” you scold him gently and free yourself from his grip to start helping him place your dishes on the dining room table. 

He pulls your chair out for you and you giggle as he bows and offers a small, “my lady” before sitting in the chair next to yours. You look at him with a brow raised, noticing how Missy still isn’t here and Marcus not acting like that isn’t completely out of the ordinary. Maybe he is letting Missy sleep in, you think to yourself, shrugging off that nagging feeling to enjoy your meal with Marcus. If he isn’t worried, then you shouldn’t be either. Once you finish, you insist on helping Marcus clear the dishes, reasoning the sooner you’re finish the sooner you can do something more fun so he relents. Once the last plate has been placed on the drying rack, Marcus spins you around and pins you between his body and the kitchen counter. Caging you in on an arm on either side of you, Marcus gives you a breath-stealing kiss, hungry and hot, that ends with your hands tugging on his hair and his arms wrapped around you, crushing you to his warm body. Nipping at your bottom lip Marcus breaks the silence, “we’re all done cleaning up, baby, what do you want now?”

“Marcus you know all I want is you,” you whisper against his lips. “But where is Missy? She didn’t say anything to me yesterday about not being home,” you pouted. You and Missy were thick as thieves and you were hoping for a relaxing spa day where you could have Marcus wait on you hand-and-foot, the one birthday girl perk you’d take advantage of. “Well baby,” he murmurs against your cheek, kissing his way down to your neck. Titling your head back to give him more access, you sigh as he sucks at your pulse point, “what I want to do for your birthday is more of an... adult gift,” he growls the last part and bites where your neck as shoulder meet, sending a shiver down your spine and a soft whimper to fall from your lips.

You feel his hands glide down your body, appreciating the silky fabric as he makes his way to your already wet core, cock twitching at the fact you didn’t put on any underwear. Slipping one hand between your thighs Marcus groans, finding you already soaked. “Oh yeah, that’s my good girl, already so ready to take what I give you,” he groans, one finger circling your entrance to gather more of the wetness before bringing it to his mouth and sucking it clean. “Marcus, please,” you moan and take his other hand to grab at your breast. His thumb rubs your nipple, feeling it pebble through the fabric of your nightgown while bringing his other had back down to start circling your clit. “Now baby,” he tuts, “it might be your birthday but I won’t let you forget the rules,” giving your pussy a light slap, making you jump.

Trying to rock your hips to get him to start rubbing your clit again, you give Marcus your biggest doe eyes, “sorry Daddy, I won’t do it again.” Pleased with your answer, you’re rewarded with his fingers circling your clit again his other hand moving to your other breast to give that nipple the same attention. Your moans fill the kitchen and soon enough you’re trying to increase the rhythm of his fingers, needing more. “Something you need?” He teases, stopping his fingers again making you whine. “Daddy I need more. I want to cum, please?” You don’t care if you have to beg, you just want him to make you feel good. Placing both of his hands on either side of your waist, he helps you hop up on the counter, pushing your nightgown up to fully expose your dipping pussy to his hungry eyes. Sinking to his knees, Marcus places a kiss to the inside of your thigh before licking a broad stripe through your folds. Throwing your head back, you take one of your hands to grip onto Marcus’s hair, moaning.

“Thank you Daddy, th-that’s so good,” you babble as he sucks on your clit, taking the finger that was teasing your entrance and pushing it inside, moaning against you as he feels how your pussy already clenches around the digit. Adding a second finger into your dripping hole, Marcus starts to match his thrusts to the same rhythm of his sucking on your clit. You’re a mess, pulling on his hair after a particularly hard suck, taking everything he gives you. You feel the coil in your belly tighten as he continues, crying out his name as you feel a third finger start to stretch you out and search for your g-spot. Knowing what he’s after, you start to ride his face, “Come on, you know what I want from you, my good girl gonna squirt for me? Soak me as a thank you for breakfast?” His eyes are almost black with lust as he starts eating you out like a man starved, fingers not stopping as they press against that spongy spot inside of you.

Hot tears are running down your face as you feel your orgasm building even stronger than before, “It’s coming, pleasepleaseplease,” you’re babbling and pulling him closer to you, desperate for release. All it takes is a few more harsh thrusts and a careful nip to your clit for you to feel the coil snap, screaming Marcus name as you absolutely gush. You and Marcus moan together as he starts licking you up, enjoying the absolute mess you’ve made of yourself and all over him. After you push against his head, not being able to handle his hands or fingers anymore, Marcus stands up. Taking you face in both hands, he starts attacking your lips again, tongue licking against your bottom him to have you open up for him, tongues dancing against each other allowing you to taste yourself and him.

Breaking the kiss to come up for air, Marcus pressed his forehead against yours, thumbs rubbing circles on either side of your hips. “Baby?” he whispers and you hum back in acknowledgement, still too tired to do anything else. “We’re not done get, princess, I want to make you feel good again,” he starts grinding his clothed but hard cock against your still exposed core. You whine, still sensitive, but soon start to pull him closer so you can kiss his chest, shoulders, any bit of skin your lips can reach. “Are you gonna fuck me? Please D-Daddy,” you whine, stuttering after a hard thrust from Marcus who can only groan in response, getting lost in the feeling of your hot and wet pussy soaking through his already ruined underwear. “You bet baby, gonna give you a big present,” he coos. Taking a step back, Marcus carefully helps you off the counter onto shaky legs and leads you to your bedroom.

Peeling off the robe and nightgown from your body, you crawl on top of the bed, watching him with lust-filled eyes as he finally peels off the ruined boxers. “Look at this,” grabbing his hard cock Marcus starts to lazily pump himself, “see what you do to me? You make me so fucking hard.” Propping yourself up on your elbows, you reach an arm out and start making a grabby hand at him, pouting. “Please, please fuck me,” you whine. Chuckling darkly Marcus stalks towards the bed and pulls at your ankle, causing you to fall onto your back. “Not like this yet baby, hands and knees,” he tuts and gives your thigh a light slap. Nodding you slowly roll yourself over to get on shaky knees, presenting your ass to him and letting your head fall against the cool pillows.

You feel the mattress dip behind you as Marcus joins you on the bed, still pumping his length as he runs a finger through your soaked folds causing you to lean into his touch. He slaps your ass, making you jerk forward and moan, “so needy already. You got to cum nice and hard for me and if you wanna be my good girl you’ll do it again, but you will take what I give you,” he slaps the other cheek making you moan again. Whimpering you nod against the pillow, y-yes Daddy, sorry Daddy.” With that you finally feel him rub the blunt tip of his cock through your folds before sinking into you with one long thrust. You both groan at the feeling of him finally filling you up. After giving you a moment to adjust to the stretch of him, Marcus firmly grips your hips and starts pounding into you. “You’re such a good girl,” he growls, “taking my big cock so well. Your pussy just sucking me up, don’t wanna let me go huh? Cock to good?” All you can do is clench around him and chant his name over and over again, a prayer that he won’t stop. 

“Tell me how good it feels,” he demands and leans forward to deepen the angle he’s pounding into you with. The change makes you scream, drooling on the pillow from how good he’s fucking you. “You’re so good Daddy, so deep and big, I love you I love you I love you,” you sob. Marcus knows he’s close, thrusts getting sloppier as he loses himself in the feeling of your hot walls gripping his dick the way he likes, but he wants you to come again, soak him one more time. He pulls out, making you whine before flipping you on your back. Grabbing your legs, he wraps them around his waist before pushing into you again, resuming his brutal pace. Not feeling deep enough, Marcus throws your right leg over his shoulder, keeping his grip on your left leg still wrapped around him. You moan as you feel him deeper once again and your eyes roll back as he takes his free hand and starts rubbing your clit with his thumb, matching his thrusts. “Yes Daddy, yesyesyesyesyes I wanna cum again I’ll be s-so sosososo good,” you sob as more hot tears roll down your cheeks. His grip on you tightens as he speeds up, baring his teeth from the force he’s shredding that spot inside of you, “yeah? Gonna soak me again? Show me how much your pussy loves my cock, show me you’re my good girl,” he taunts.

You can’t respond, you can’t do anything but just take it and enjoy the feeling building inside of you. Marcus can feel your pussy flutter around him and knows you’re almost there. Looking down at his thumb rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves, he spits right on your clit, rubbing frantically knowing he won’t last much longer. “I-I-I-” you try to warn him but are cut off by your own cries of pleasure. Your eyes roll back in your head as you feel your orgasm rip through you, even more aggressive than before. “Fuck yeah baby,” Marcus moans as he gives one more hard thrust, the feeling of you squirting on him again finally giving him permission to bury himself inside of you and paint your walls with ropes of hot cum. Collapsing on top of you, you both are panting heavily, desperately trying to catch your breath. “Mmmmmm, thank you honey,” you murmur, kissing Marcus’s temple as you lift a pleasure-weak hand to run your fingers through his hair. Nuzzling into your neck, Marcus places a kiss over the bruise starting to form from earlier, “anything for my birthday Queen.”

As much as you enjoyed laying there with Marcus, you couldn’t deny you were starting to feel sticky and uncomfortable, gently tugging on his hair to get him to meet your eyes, “As much as I love this Marcus, I’m starting to feel kind of gross,” you giggle. He chuckles too and gives your nose a quick peck before gently pulling out of you. Moving to sit up, Marcus gently pushes you back with a small huff, “one second baby, I just wanna look,” he gently says as he crawls down your body to admire the way both of your releases are leaking out of you. Not being able to resist, Marcus gives a gentle lick to your sensitive hole, soothing you as you whine from sensitivity, “just wanted a little taste, that’s all, better than any icing,” he winks. Rolling your eyes you finally sit up and allow Marcus to walk you into your bathroom and get started on filling up your bathtub just the way you like. Once he’s got the tub filled and scattered rose petals across the water, you get up and wrap yourself around his back. Placing a kiss to his naked shoulder you murmur, “I love you baby, thank you for always being so good to me.” He gently untangles your arms from around him to get you in the tub, crawling in behind you. Once you’re comfortably laying against his chest he kisses your temple.

“Anything for you baby, anything.”

[amaamajiki]

| primal | todoroki natsuo X reader {smut}

In which Natsuo has an ugly encounter with his father and he needs to relief some tension, so he goes a bit feral with his girlfiend...

Did someone ask for this? Absolutely fucking not

Did that stop me from writing my longest smut to the date becaus I’m thirsty for Natsuo? Of course not. 

This is fucking long, so you’ve been warned, also there’s a tiny bit of fluff at the end, anyways, enjoy the product of my lusting.

- Mara

He’s desperate, frantic hands roam through your body as soon as you open the door and his lips kiss you hungrily, cold eyes staring into yours so intense that it feels like the kind of cold in December that burns right through your core. 

“N-Natsuo, what is it?”  You try to ask, breathing into his neck as he’s busy hastily removing your top, deft fingers quickly removing your bra and squeezing your nipples between his calloused fingertips. 

“Nothing”. He huskily groans against your  pulse point as he sucks a patch of your skin into what you’re sure will become a mark. 

“H-Hold on,” you breath, while trying to ignore the relentless assault at your nipples. “Something’s obviously bothering you, so why don’t you just spit it out”.

He separates himself from your neck adamantly, perverted intent all over his face. “This is me working on it”.

And just like that he dives once again, his lips now tracing a path downwards by the expanse of your stomach, he stops for a second to nibble at the soft flesh at the hem of your jeans. His advances are leaving a trace of goosebumps on your skin, and he’s pulling at your pants with so much force that your knees buckle for a second. Finally he rips them off from your legs and the sight of him kneeling to inhale the scent from your apex has you holding your breath.

His nose presses against your panties and you can feel them dampen when Natsuo presses the tip of his nose against your clit and you can’t help the whimper that scapesps your lips. 

“What happened, don’t you wanna say anything else”. He taunts, and you’re about to answer when he moves the thin cotton layer that’s covering your sex to the side. He dives in without a warning, like a man who’s been thirsty for a thousand years.

There’s something raw and primitive in the way he drinks your juices, brutal tongue delving so deep into you that your breathing begins to falter, he laps and sucks in an almost feral way, the strong grip of his hands clenching against your ass, slick and hungry noises filling the air, when he begins to tease your clit with the tip of his tongue you begin to mewl, your hands holding onto his head, the soft tresses of his hair caresing your fingers. 

Natsuo prides himself on the way your lips have begun to quiver and his right palm surprises you when it slaps against the supple flesh of your ass. You can actually feel him grin against your core and when he parts from your flesh you whimper in distress. 

He looks up at you, pure lust darkening his eyes, and the sight of his chin and lips covered in your juices is almost enough to finish you off. 

“I know you were close, your pussy was twitching against my lips”. His words are pure filth, but you can’t help the spark of heat that travels right towards your clit. 

“You’re always so desperate for me, (Y/N)” He assentuates his words with a gentle nibble in your inner thigh, oh, so close to the center of your need, his hot breath hitting your sex and making you clamp your legs together, looking for any kind of relieve that you can get. 

“I can smell your arousal (Y/N), aren't you ashamed of being so desperate?” There’s mockery in his tone, and perversion in his eyes, but you can’t deny that you love him like this: so hungry and primal. 

“Natsuo,” You whisper, your nails raking through his scalp as you shamelessly pull him towards your center again. “Please”. 

“Fuck, you’re impossible”: He groans as he delves into your folds once again, this time his ministrations solely focused on over stimulating your engorged clit, he’s sucking and tapping against it and you can’t think of anything else that it isn’t Natsuo and the way his hands grip your tights as if he doesn’t ever plan to let you go. And he sucks at it just the right way and you can feel yourself coming undone, the strength of your orgasm leaving you empty of everything but pure white pleasure, and Natsuo just keeps lapping at your juices as you come down from nirvana, savoring the way your pussy clenches in his mouth.

He stands up all too quickly and before you’re back from your orgasm he’s kissing you, it’s sloppy and deep and you can taste yourself in his tongue and he moans into your mouth when you pull him by the collar of his shirt. 

But then you feel it, two thick fingers caressing your already over sensitive entrance, and Natsuo marvels at the way your walls clench around him when he enters, he fills you up so effortlessly and his fingers reach so deep inside you that it should be illegal.

Spongy tissue is caressed and you begin to pant, everything’s too much and you tilt your head backwards, the pleasure too overwhelming, then his thumb frantically assaults your clit and you can feel it before it happens,  you’re coming on his fingers once again, but it feels different and all too familiar at the same time and you can feel the explosion of your heat travel through your tights into Natsuo’s hand. 

Your second orgasm is too much, the pleasure is too intense and the fact that you know that you squirted all over Natsuo fingers makes the heat travel through your body, you feel your body go limp but Natsuo’s quick embrace holds you before you can fall. 

“I’m sorry (Y/N), but I’m not done with you just yet”. He lifts you effortlessly, and as always it amazes you how strong he is, you’re still dizzy from your last orgasm but when he pushes you against the nearest couch you can feel your insides burn in excitement. 

The drag of his zipper being undone reaches your ears, and his hands are quick to re accommodate your body, face pushed against the soft cushions of the sofa and your ass perked up in the air, Natsuo grips your hips with a possessive crushing strength and when the tip of his member teases your entrance you hear yourself whimper.

“I can still see your pussy clenching (Y/N), but you’re gonna take my cock, right?” He accentuates his question with a stroke of his shaft against your clit and you feel yourself buckle involuntary against him. 

“That’s what I thought”. He whispers in your ear, one hand gently massaging the space between your blades, the other one firmly grabbing your at your hip. He enters in one swift movement, and his thickness leaves you breathless for a moment, it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve taken him, he’s always too big. 

His strong frame leans over your, and he relishes on the warm and tightness of your channel, nothing else matters, nothing but you and the way you clench on him, and then you whimper his name and he loses it, strong brutal thrusts drive his pace, you’re always such a perfect fit for him, always so responsive and needy, he just can’t get enough of your muffled moans.

His skin slaps against your ass, making for a perfect sound to accompany his groans and low whimpers, your face is buried against the cushions, his shaft hitting you in just the right spot, you know you won’t last long, you’re already too sensitive and when Natsuo pulls your head upwards, the strength of his fist pulling you by the hair he almost comes undone, your face is contorted in a soundless moan. 

His hand spanks against the already reddened skin of your ass and he can feel you clench around him, he’s driven by pure instinct and the need to see you come again, so he thrusts even harder, his arm coming to snake around your waist, the warm supple flesh of your navel being everything he needs. 

And he can feel his orgams come over him, he feels it so close that he keeps rutting into you, one hand coming to rub against your abused clit and you begin to plead and mewl and there are tears streaming down your cheeks, face contoured by pure pleasure.

“Pleasepleaseplease...” You mutter, a litany of incoherencies coming from your mouth and your insides tighten around him and you begin to pump him, his orgasm hitting him so hard that he stops breathing for a second, still driving into you to make sure everything comes out.

It takes the two of you a while to come down from your high, the two of you simply lounging in the couch, limbs entangled and sweaty bodies pressed against each other. Natsuo is holding you in a way that his head is resting against your chest while you gently caress the side of his face. 

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles after what seems hours of silence,”I needed it”.

“You saw him, didn’t you?”

“It’s just… everyone seems so ready to forgive him, and I want my brother and sister to be happy but…” His voice grows sour and low.

“I know”. You hold him tightly, as there’s nothing else you can do to cure Natsuo’s scars because of his father, even when you’ve give anything to alleviate him from his burden. “You don’t have to forgive him if you don’t want too”.

“I know”, he says, his voice gaining force and a calmer tone, “It’s just” he sighs, “It’s all messed up”. 

“I’m messed up” you try the waters, checking if you manage to take his mind off his father even for a second. 

He chuckles lowly, and the rumble of it makes his back rise a little. 

“Sorry again, but I regret nothing”. He looks at you with a tint or mischief and a tint of tenderness that engulfs you whole, and you feel so much anger against Endeavour for ever hurting Natsuo like this that you feel it coming off of yourself in waves.

“Fuck him.” you mutter quietly.

Natsuo chuckles again, and he nuzzles his head into your neck, “Fuck him”.

[ If you enjoy my writing please reblog & comment, remember that feedback keeps writers motivated ]

[jackandthesoulmates]

The End Has No End

created for @ohnoitsthebat

Can I request Jensen x Jared, with total dom! Jensen, dirty talk (as much as you want) while doing Wincest role-playing to cope with the end of the series?

word count: 1925

Read on AO3

It started out as one of Jensen’s quite harmless seeming games when he sent Jared a text back in 2005. 

“How you doin’, Sammy?”

Back then Jared hadn’t even thought about answering the text like he did.

“Quite lonely bro xx”

What they’ve gotten out of it was a romance that would last from the start of Supernatural in 2005 until now. Supernatural’s end in the middle of a pandemic. Before they went home for a short period and Jared had to start new filmings for “Walker”, him and Jensen decided to roadtrip back home. And it was rough on both of them. They were done being Sam and Dean Winchester, the series was over. 

And there was no room left for a new season with them starring as the brothers. Jensen decided in which hotel they should stay tonight. Both of them had their fair share of tears already. Sitting in the Impala was a big thing. It felt like they weren’t quite detached from their roles. And when Jensen told Jared to stay in the car, while he took care of the reservation and “decorating the room”, Jared wasn’t prepared for the text that just arrived on his phone.

“Room 28. Waiting for you, Sammy.”

It was a sudden chill down Jared’s spine, reading these few words. 

Jensen’s game he liked to play. And which Jared enjoyed the same. He squirmed, texting back. “On my way, Dean.” 

And Jared got out of the car, locked it and strolled to the hotel entrance, passing the reception, taking the elevator. He felt on edge, excited but a little nervous. Life has been unfair to them lately and their romance seemed to lose their base with the show ending. Something was off between them for a while already but Jared couldn’t put a finger on the problem. He took Jensen’s invitation anyway, his heart pounding against his rib cage and his eyes glowing. He knocked at Room 28.

And waited.

It took a minute for Jensen to open. His stubble was already visible, scratchy and his hair wasn’t groomed like on set. But who stood in front of Jared wasn’t ‘Jensen’ anymore. It was Dean Winchester, fully dressed. Which made him sigh inside. Why was he still dressed?

And when Jared crossed the treshold, he dove in his headspace already. Where Sam would live on forever. 

There was a lot of kissing first, Jensen’s body was hot and felt like made of steel, hard and pushing agains Jared. He was maybe smaller but he definitely was the stronger one here. Jared let him. 

“God, I’ve missed you”, Jensen said between two kisses. “I missed you, Sammy.”

And Sammy reacted, moaning in Dean’s mouth. “I’ve missed you too, big brother. So, so much.” 

There was no questioning, the rules were clear. And Sam would do whatever it took to make Dean happy. He always would. They always would.

Sam is pushed onto the bed, across the whole king size and he stretches out, placing his hands over his head for Dean to pin them down, make him lie still for him. No touching allowed. “Good boy, you haven’t forgotten, even though it’s been a while I fucked you, right?”

Sam nodded. In adoration and surrender. 

“Tell me what you want me to do?”, Dean asked, voice rough and low, almost a growl. It’s digging deep in Sam’s stomach, making him ache in desire. 

“I want you to fuck me, Dee…” He whispered, opening his legs a little to let Dean lie between them. 

He has his hands pinned down by Dean already, the other hand reaches out and is placed on Sam’s throat. It’s not choking. Not yet. But he hoped it would be. He loved the feeling of almost blacking out from Dean’s big, strong hands. 

And there it is, a slight choke on the sides of Sam’s neck, not on his throat. Dean knows how to make it pleasurable and less dangerous.

“You’re a greedy little slut. You know that right?”

A hiss. 

Sam cried out, nodding. “Yes, Dean, I’m a greedy little slut.”

“Good. Very good. I love it when you say that, Sammy.”

Sam cried out again, eyes tearing up and he’s slightly gasping for air. Dean let go of his throat, now stroking his face, giving his cheek a light slap. Dean would never really slap him across the face in a stronger way, that’s reserved for Sam’s ass. 

“Dean.. please.” 

Dean smirked. An evil smirk, promising a lot of bittersweet fucking to come. 

“Don’t be so impatient, baby brother. You know we’ll get there if I’m satisfied with you. Did you fuck anyone else lately, baby? Did you? Did you let your inner little slut out and let someone else fuck your deliciously tight ass? Did you let them cum inside, hm? Tell me.”

“No, no I would never!” Sam whimpered, looking up. “It’s only you!”

He half heartedly fought the restraints but of course, he would never seriously rebel against what’s about to happen.

“You’ve waited for me, huh? Do you miss it? My hot cum in your ass? Several loads? And you’ll leak for the next day.”

“Yes yes yes I miss it so much! I need you fucking my ass, Dean! Please please do it!”, he felt like he’s out of his mind already.

Dean let go of him completely. “Undress.” 

He said plain and simple. And he did it, with shaking hands and racing heart. When he turned around to Dean, he had his belt unbuckled already and let the leather slide through his open hand. Sam gulped. He was already raging hard and he needed the pressure to be relieved. He wanted Dean so much he didn’t know how to put in words. There was nothing comparable.

The belt made him nervous. 

“Oh, you lookin’ at that? On the bed. Now. Hold your ass up, show me your greedy hole. Spread it for me. Will you?”

Of course he did!

He knelt down, face in the mattress, on his knees, spreading his asshole with his hands. He shivered in anticipation. Until the first blow hit him right between his buttcheeks. It was a heavy blow and Sam cried out loudly in pain, muffled through the pillow. But he would never complain, he rather thanked him. 

“Good boy. I just want to see your greedy hole swollen and red before I shove my cock in there. You know I love it.” Dean growled the ‘I love it’ and Sam’s about to go crazy already. 

Dean spanked him just a few times, until Sam was sobbing and moaning, and his cock was leaking precum, a transparent thick drop leading down to the mattress. 

This is when Dean showed mercy - finally - and stroked Sam’s butt cheeks. 

“That’s good, my boy. I will fuck you now.” He bent down, kissed Sam’s butt cheeks and then with long, teasing strokes he licked the now sensitive hole. 

Sam moaned silently, pushing himself against Dean’s wet, hot tongue. 

“Dean, please fuck me already, I need you so much…”

“You insatiable whore.” 

He gulps. Dean’s never said that before but it drives Sam crazy. 

“I’m a whore”, he cried.

And then Dean’s tongue pushed inside Sam’s anus and he’s sobbing in pleasure. It’s something Dean used to do to get Sam ready and overly excited. Dean pulled away and Sam didn’t dare to look but he knew he was getting lube. 

When the first drops covered his hole he spread his cheeks even more. 

“Ready?”

Sam just nodded, not able to say one more thing until Dean would finally fuck him. 

When Dean’s thick cock pushed inside Sam he whimpered and buried his face in the pillow again. There was no time to adjust, Dean’s full length inside him with one very hard thrust. 

“You feel so good inside, Sammy. You’re so tight…”, Dean grunted. His fingernails digging in Sam’s hips. 

There was no mercy now, Sam still spreading his hole for Dean because he knew how much Dean enjoyed the view of his cock moving in Sam’s tight asshole. He always loved shoving his cock deep inside without giving Sam the chance to get comfortable with the feeling, but later he would pull out almost fully, see his tip spreading Sam’s anus and then pushing in completely again. It was the best torture. 

“You’re mine. This is mine. You understand? You belong to me and no one else!”

“I’m yours, I’m all yours!”, Sam whimpered, spreading his tears all over the pillow. 

And Dean fucked him. Hard and without mercy, grunting and swearing, calling Sam a whore and a needy little slut. And he was right about every single thing he said. Sam’s cock was leaking a steady thread of precum and Dean hitting his sweet spot didn’t help with holding back. 

“I’m coming, Dean, please let me come…”

It was too much for him to take and it’s been so long since Dean fucked him. 

The pulling in his lower body was driving him crazy. Dean gripped Sam’s hips tighter, thrusting into him and growling in a manner that was in every way intimidating. 

“Coming untouched? You’re really desperate for my cock, huh? Is it driving you this crazy? Yeah? Say it, Sammy!”

“Yes I’m desperate, I needed you to fuck me so bad… Please let me come Dean, I can’t-”

Dean laughed. Triumphant and cocky. 

“Then come, you dirty little slut! Come for me!”

And Sam came. He came so hard it made him see black and white dots all over, dizzy and collapsing. He even forgot to spread his ass for Dean. 

His cum spread all over the sheets. And now Dean’s thrusts became almost violent, and Sam knew he was close now, too. 

“Please come inside me”, Sam begged. “Pleasepleaseplease!”

Dean got a grip on Sam’s hair, pulling him up on his knees. It was a brutal grip and Sam was sure to lose some hair here but he didn’t give a single fuck. Not about the bruises on his hips or that he would walk funny for a day. Dean’s other hand grabbed Sam’s half hard cock and started stroking him. It wasn’t gentle at all but he loved touching Sam’s cock when he came himself. 

“Do you deserve my cum, slut?” Dean hissed.

“No.. no I don’t!”

“I’ll give it to you anyway…” 

Dean pushed him down again, face buried in the pillow and his hand pressing Sam down. A few thrusts, Sam felt like being torn apart and then hot cum filled his hole. Dean grunted and moaned, pushing his cum deep inside and riding himself through the orgasm and the aftershocks. When he relaxed he leaned on Sam, kissing his back and breathing heavily. 

It took a few moments of both of them panting and moaning, before Dean pulled out and collapsed beside Sam. 

Silence for a few moments. 

And then Jensen came back and smiled at Jared.

“You good?”

Jared scoffed. “Yah.”

It took some glimpses before Jared turned around to Jensen fully, feeling cum pouring out of his anus. A good feeling, actually.

“We didn’t do that in a while. I’m gonna miss it.”

“You don’t have to, because I have no intention to drop this.”

‘This’. Them. It was maybe a little weird, a little fucked up. 

But Sam and Dean would never fade. The Winchesters would always be a part of Jensen and Jared. 

“Let’s go shower”, Jensen said. 

Jared smirked. “I wanna feel you a little longer.”

“You’re filthy, Padaleski.”

[wisteriamoons]

Pinky Promise

So I see a lot of au’s where Kotoha lives, but stays with Douma and never sees the carnage he causes. 

So, this oneshot kinda explores what would happen if Kotoha escaped unscathed that night. If she had stayed on the road, running till daybreak. Unknowingly missing the human village, instead running even further to a specific house.

What if, Kotoha Hashibira, became a Demon Slayer?

Words: 1821

--

Through all the abuse and manipulation, from the deepest parts of her memory, she knows she’ll never forget one thing. What had occurred on April 22nd. 

The delivery lasted hours, but through the pain and tears, she won’t remember it as a bad thing.

No, not even close. 

She’ll remember it as the day it changed her. 

--

At a mere seventeen banking on eighteen girl, she had married young, desperate for a family. Her family had been killed by what the locals thought was a bear, and Kotoha Hashibira found herself all alone.

She made one error, unfortunately, and that was marrying too quickly. Too fast. The man seemed so perfect and loving, and while his mother was stern and icy, he seemed wonderful.

That quickly changed, however.

She found it hopeless to escape, not finding a way to run. But nine months into the marriage, she gave birth. She cried tears of joy, finding her son to have little to no attributes from his father.

“Inosuke,” she whispered. “My little Inosuke.”

He gave her a reason to keep going, to stay hopeful and face the horrors of the day with a brave face.

And then she remembers the night she did escape. 

With only the clothes on her back, she had managed to wrap Inosuke’s favorite blanket around him. The night was treacherous, winter just settling in and snow caking the ground like powder. But no matter how cold it got, no matter how tired she was, she kept running with her one-month-old son in her arms.

She remembered hearing about a paradise, a place where you could escape to when you had nowhere else.

That was her other error. 

Douma was a wonderful host. She saw the magic he performed personally, as he healed her from her partial blindness, her scars, everything she had accumulated. He called her beautiful. He treated her like a goddess.

She stayed.

She didn’t realize how much of a trophy Douma saw her as. And as she sang, took care of her son, sat side-by-side with Douma, made people happy. She didn’t know the real horrors of the cult she had found herself in. She only had unconfirmed suspicions filtered out by her own bias. People were disappearing, but Douma said they left for brighter pastures. Why would she have any reason to not believe him, when he took her and her son in from the cold?

The suspicions grew, no matter how much she thought otherwise. The feeling in her gut made her feel more uneasy as the days wore on.

--

The stench was pungent, nauseating, revolting.

She had awoken, taking Inosuke in her arms to look for the source. Perhaps someone hunted? Yes, yes, that had to be the--

“Oh, Kotoha, you weren’t supposed to see this,” Douma said smoothly, wiping the blood from his lips. Kotoha stood, heart palpitating, hyperventilation threatening to begin. On the ground was an acquaintance, the friendly Aki, dead in a puddle of her own blood. 

“You…” Kotoha breathes in, stomach churning. “You monster!”

“Kotoha, listen to me, my b--”

“I will have none of it! You spouted nothing but horrible lies! You planned to eat me! You planned to eat Inosuke! Fiend! You awful, awful man!”

Kotoha didn’t listen to what Douma had to say next. She ran once more, with only the clothes on her back. 

She had fallen for another man’s tricks again. Not only putting herself in danger, but Inosuke, too. Tears threatened to build. 

“I’m so sorry, Inosuke. I’m sorry mommy’s stupid! I always make mistakes, I always go the wrong way! Sorry, I’m so sorry… I’m your mother, I need to keep it together.”

Inosuke just babbled, only knowing his mother was upset, but not of the danger that followed behind. She ran and ran until day broke just behind the trees. She hadn’t realized she lost Douma hours ago.

“Please, pleasepleaseplease, I can’t lose my son,” Kotoha cries to herself, holding him closer to her chest. “I can’t die!”

The first house she saw she practically flung herself at it, banging at the gate with a terrified fist. 

“Please! Please, oh please let us in! Please! We’re being chased by a cannibal!” Kotoha wails, slamming her fist faster. “Please, open up!”

It was met with succession. 

An old woman opened the gate, and Kotoha ran inside, the woman closing the gate behind her. The old woman had long graying hair, soft blue eyes and a purple kimono.

“A cannibal?” the old woman questions as Kotoha dashes up the steps of the Japanese house.

“Ye-yes, I just saw him eat another with my own eyes, oh goodness please let us stay at least the night.”

The old woman took pity on her, and let her inside. 

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but that wasn’t a cannibal. You probably saw the workings of a demon.”

“A… a what?” Kotoha asks, panting as the adrenaline wears off. The woman guides her over into the kitchen, having her sit at the kotatsu. Kotoha refuses to put Inosuke down, so she keeps him close to her. The woman starts brewing some tea, placing the kettle over the fire. 

“A demon. You don’t know where you are, child?”

Kotoha shakes her head slowly. Inosuke snoozes in her arms.

“You’re in a Wisteria House. The crest you saw out front marks this place as a sanctuary for demon hunters, from the Demon Slayer Corps. I usually only provide to demon hunters, but considering you were being chased by a demon, I hold no problem taking you in for a while.”

Kotoha feels tears build up in her eyes, and she bows her head.

“Thank you so much. But, what is a demon?”

“A demon is someone that has been infected by a demon’s blood and turned into a blood-thirsty monster. They’re usually unintelligent, only looking for, well…”

Kotoha nods, sniffling. 

“This demon wasn’t unintelligent though.”

The old woman frowns.

“Oh my… I’m glad I let you in.”

The old woman doesn’t elaborate, which Kotoha is quite thankful for. All she wanted to focus on was Inosuke.

“If you only provide for free for demon hunters, then I’m willing to work here,” Kotoha speaks quietly. 

“Are you sure? It’s a lot of hard work, plus you have a babe.”

“I don’t want to be a burden. Inosuke is very well-behaved for a one month old, he’s so sweet to me.” Kotoha beams down at her son, kissing his forehead. The woman hums.

“Well, I’m Himari. What is your name, child?”

“Kotoha. Thank you again for taking us in.” Kotoha bows her head once more, which Himari replicates. 

--

For the next few weeks, Himari helped Kotoha settle in along with Inosuke. Kotoha had been right about one thing; Inosuke was surprisingly well-behaved for a baby. He slept through the night, never made a real fuss even when he was hungry or his diaper needed changing. He seemed to really love silk and velvet, the birds chirping in the morning, books, a boar plush his mother made, and hearing his mother sing their special song.

“Pinky promise, pinky promise, such small hands you have~”

It warms Himari’s heart, hearing her sing it when it was bedtime for Inosuke. The lyrics changed almost every night, but every word was meaningful.

Kotoha learned more of the Wisteria Houses, and Himari herself. Himari was going to turn sixty-three soon, but had the energy of a twenty-year-old. All her immediate family lived far away, but her extended family was large. So large, Wisteria Houses basically spanned the whole country. It was fascinating. 

About a month into Kotoha’s stay, a group of demon slayers led by the Flame Pillar came to stay at the Wisteria House. 

“Mr. Rengoku, may I ask you something?” Kotoha asks before bed. Shinjuro Rengoku gives the woman a curious look as he wipes his blade down with a cloth. “I’m curious as to what demon slaying is like, can you tell me about it?”

Shinjuro was surprised that she wanted to know in the first place. After all, she looked like a gentle nadeshiko; she even reminded him of his wife. But he answered her question anyway; if she wanted to know, he wasn’t going to discriminate against her for it. 

“It’s hard, you may have to leave home for months at a time, and there’s a large possibility you can die.”

“Then why did you join, Mr. Rengoku?”

Shinjuro pauses.

“My family goes generations back for Flame Breathing, but I also found it’d be worth it to save people and keep them from the dark.”

Kotoha listens intently, her usual kind face into more of an unreadable expression.

Shinjuro wouldn’t find out until years later why she asked. Himari found out immediately, after the group went to sleep.

“Himari, I want to learn how to be a demon slayer.”

The old woman nearly drops her pot of water, looking at Kotoha incredulously. 

“Koto-- why?”

Kotoha glares at the wood of the kotatsu.

“I’m sick and tired of being a defenseless woman who doesn’t know what she’s doing. I want to be able to protect my son and make a world where he doesn’t have to be scared to go out at night. I want to be stronger, I want to help people.”

Himari looks at Kotoha, her incredulous look fading.

“Are you sure, Kotoha? Demons are dangerous, I’ve especially heard the Final Selection is ruthless; you’re either alive or you’re dead when you come out.”

Kotoha gazes at the bassinet which holds a sleeping Inosuke.

“I’ll take my time. And I know it’ll be hard, much harder than anything I’ve faced. But it’ll be worth it.”

Himari stares silently at Kotoha, and then gives a weak smile.

“I know someone who can teach you, then. I’m willing to also help take care of Inosuke, too.”

Kotoha looks at Himari, smiling as tears stream down her eyes. 

“Thank you, Himari. Thank you so much.”

--

This is where it all began.

Kotoha stands outside of the Wisteria House, looking much different, more older. She now had the Demon Slayer Corps uniform on, a long blue haori with light yellow bell patterns decorating it. Every step she took, the actual bells sewn into a red bracelet on her left wrist tinkled softly. She opens the gate, a smile on her face. She’d be getting her Nichirin blade soon.

“Mama!” Inosuke cries. She had been gone for only a week, but for five year old Inosuke, it felt like forever. The small boy runs over to her, and she crouches as she hugs him close, stroking his hair. 

Himari watches from the porch, smiling proudly at the mother and son. 

“I told you I’d be back, my little dragonfly,” Kotoha laughs, kissing his forehead. “I pinky promised it, after all.”

This is where it all began.

For the Bell Pillar, Kotoha Hashibira. 

[the-roanoke-society]

things left unsaid, spoken.

written as a quick gift for @missredherring​ to celebrate her recovery! grace & choice-flavored. hints at pure catastrophe but not graphically described.

vida wasn’t used to being called upon so urgently, and especially not silently.

but if she was able to hear diana’s voice in her mind so clearly, then—

she doesn’t want everyone to hear.

so. vida walked, briskly, until she found herself walking down basement stairs and, and… there they were.

seraphim, on all fours. lilith, with her arms around her chest cavity, as if she was holding her up.

seraphim was weeping, still struggling, trying to climb back into a gate that wasn’t even switched on anymore.

vida faltered, her steps freezing by the large black boxes by which sat wyvern and drake, who looked equally mystified. and uncomfortable.

“vida!” it was as if lilith had finally realized that she was there. “will you—give me one moment please?”

“yes—yes of course.”

she watch lilith lean down, watch her murmur into seraphim’s ear. later, she’d learn what she said.

(“… vida is here. would you like to go with her?” “let me go back—please, let me go back, i know i can help, i can stop it, pleasepleaseplease—“ “morgan. you can’t go back. that world is lost. … there is nothing more you can do.” “…” “… go with vida.” “… okay.”)

it was strange, watching the society’s executive head cradling an equally competent senior agent as she sort of shapeshifed, switching between a woman clawing her way across the floor to someone wholly and completely defeated.

seraphim’s eyes stayed on the floor, even as she stood. she didn’t meet the gaze of anyone staring at her. “vida! m—“ lilith opened her mouth, as if she meant to say something else. but she swallowed it.

no one knew yet.

“—will you please be a darling and take seraphim to the archives with you?” her tone changed. equal parts gentle, firm—and something else. something vida couldn’t quite put her finger on. “i think she may need the distraction. and she has an eye for details. she may be able to help you.”

“… morgan?”

seraphim seemed to break, if only for a few seconds, at the sound of her own name. and she nodded, like yes, yes, i’m here, i am listening, please don’t ask me to lift my head, please, please don’t—

“… would you like to come with me downstairs?”

and seraphim wiped at her face with one sleeve, and nodded.

“all right. take my arm, let’s go—“

she couldn’t help but think of comforting a crying child. the way that she didn’t lift her head, the way she couldn’t seem to stop crying, even if she did so silently. the entire way to the archives. her palm was trembling as it held on to her elbow.

but once they got into the actual archives—one part storage facility, one part library, one part artifact collection—she’d calmed down enough to take instruction.

“all we’re doing is reorganizing the older files. everything’s been tagged—see? right here? we’re organizing everything by year. before they were organized by the handle that originally filled them out and that’s just not practical anymore. you mind if i sit on the floor? no? … excellent. you’re free to do so as well. there’s a lot to go through. just make stacks by decades as you can, and i can finish putting everything into new files later, okay? … okay. thank you, morgan.”

she opened her mouth to try, to her credit. she did try to say something. but no sound came. she just bit down on her lip, new tears forming, and turned away.

for a while, they worked in a comfortable silence. multiple times vida would look up to the sight of seraphim’s dried tear tracks on her face, replaced by awe, as she got distracted by the file logs in her hands. something told the scribe this was her first time reading more than a few of these files, these parts of the society’s history.

but then—“… vida?”

“yes, darling?” it rolled off her tongue. easy as breathing. she knew seraphim. enough to know she didn’t mind terms of endearment. hopefully just as kind as what—what was his name? hamish. his codename? merlin—was calling her.

“… do you love lilith?”

that stopped her.

not cold, exactly. loyalty was expecting in organizations like this, and seraphim—she just sounded so exhausted. she didn’t mean it a malicious manner. she could tell. but seraphim was sitting cross-legged, two files in each hand, looking at her with honest, hazel eyes.

so she answered in kind: “i do. … very much.”

seraphim sniffed. “like—like love lilith?”

but again—there was no ulterior motive she could detect. granted, vida may not have been able to read people as well as lilith. but…

her eyes are swollen. look, the skin beneath them is all pink. maybe i should see where rae and lauren are, they can always cheer her up. i wonder what happened downstairs.

but she felt her throat tighten as she answered, laughing, even: “yes. i do. i love her.”

“so that means you’d do anything to help her, if she was in trouble, right?” seraphim swallowed.

“of course.”

something—wasn’t right. vida stood, walking closer to the exorcist, who stayed sitting. she’d laid the files across her lap.

“what—what if—“ seraphim’s face crumpled and she turned away from her. she coughed, and then continued: “—what if it wasn’t enough? what—what if she died anyway? what if something happened even if you did everything you could?” as she kept speaking, her voice became more and more broken.

as did vida’s heart.

she didn’t have the nerve to ask what brought all this up, not anymore. where exactly seraphim had gone, or what had happened.

so she did the next thing she thought of—which was embracing her.

she wasn’t surprised when seraphim turned in her arms, burying her face into her shoulder. she was shaking so badly that for a split second she thought maybe she was having the precursor to a seizure.

she rubbed a comforting hand up and down her spine. “… then i would think of her in the hereafter. and i would understand that she herself understood. and i would find peace in that.” she chose her words carefully—but truthfully. it wasn’t a situation she ever wanted to face, or even consider too much.

but—this wasn’t about her. not then. “—morgan. i won’t ask who you lost today. but i promise you, that if you tried your best? they know. they went somewhere where that knowledge has been granted them. they know.”

“… you promise?” came an answering sob. what on earth could have happened to break her this badly?

“i promise.”

seraphim’s arms tightened around her. vida felt a hand go to cover her mouth and nose.

she couldn’t tell you how long it was until they separated. “hey, uh—“ seraphim began. her arms were still unsteady, as she tried to wipe the tears from her face. “—would it be all right if i called merlin? for a second? i’ll come right back, i still have this section to sort—“

“actually, i have a better idea,” vida interrupted, smiling gently. “go call merlin. and then go get something to eat. and then take a hot bath.”

seraphim opened her mouth once, as if she was going to argue—then just sighed, as she stood. she took careful steps around the piles of paper on the floor.

but as soon as she disappeared around the corner, she popped back: “—so y’all have gone on dates?”

vida laughed. “yes.”

“okay.”

and she heard her footsteps retreating, and then coming back. “do you kiss her?”

“yes. morgan.”

“okay. cool. i know it’s not my business, but. i just wanted to make sure.”

again: footsteps going away, then footsteps coming back. “… vida?”

“yes."

“is lilith a good kisser?”

“the best, actually.”

“…. i knew it.”

“why, want to see for yourself?”

“nah, but like—“ seraphim pursed her lips together. some familiar characteristics leaking back into her face. it was like seeing a lamp come on.

she’ll be all right.

“i just knew.” and she grinned. “… you’re lucky. … and i promise i won’t tell. … so long as you promise to not tell people that i was—“ she just gestured to her face. pink, raw, swollen. “—like this.”

vida lifted her eyebrows. “i promise. now, please—go talk to hamish. okay?”

seraphim tapped her fingertips against the wood—and sighed. “okay… okay. thanks, vida. i’ll see you later?”

“of course.”

vida listened as—finally—she could hear the agent leaving the archives.

and as she went about looking at the stacks that seraphim had made, she hummed to herself, an old song, that made her think about one specific sunset in one specific place.

i love you baby, and if it’s quite alright, i need you baby, to warm the lonely night, i love you baby…

[mtvswatches]

Wynonna Earp 2x06 Whiskey Lullaby

Spoilers disclaimer (please read before sending messages or writing comments.)

Click here for previous recaps!

Stray thoughts

1) “Don’t talk about my partner’s ass” Hearing Doc say those words in regards to Dolls gave me so much joy!

2) So, Black Badge indeed no longer exists, at least not in the same shape and form as we knew it. They’ve cut Dolls, Purgatory and the Earps loose and they are now left to their own devices. If they’re not a government agency, then what are they? Who else would be interested in fighting the supernatural institutionally? Anyway, the dude told them that when Doc freed Dolls, other things escaped, too.

3) Who or what are these women? Are they widows? Is that why they dress in black?

4) So Wynonna is pregnant. And she’s also in denial mode. I get it, I mean this was definitely not part of the plan. I mean, she really doesn’t have a plan per se, but you know what I mean. She’s refusing to deal with this right now, but who are we kidding? That’s not something that you can really postpone dealing with. You have to make a decision either way. Also, is Doc the father? I’m trying to remember if she slept with anyone else after that, but I think she didn’t? Or is this like a supernatural pregnancy? And what about the goo? Did the goo affect the baby? Is Wynonna going to have the baby? And if she does, will it be an actual baby or are they going to turn it into a Connor? So many questions! I am really interested in seeing where this show is headed with this storyline…

5) To distract herself, Wynonna goes begging Nicole for a case, but there seems to be no supernatural activity lately. Well, except for…

6)  So, there are rings and they’re talking about wives and husbands, so they must be widows, but whose widows are they? They’re looking for the location of a seal, and they mention Bobo and the Stone witch, none of whom are available. And when they mention Juan Carlos, they mention that they’re not strong enough to face him. Huh.

7) Hypnos? And the Creepster is asking for more time for the Widows (yes, they are widows, I got it right!) Does this mean this Hypnos guy will hypnotize everyone in Purgatory? Will he turn back time? Make time go slower? He’s doing something alright…

8)

DOLLS: We are free agents. Free to make our own rules and to pursue our own objectives. DOC: Welcome to the club. I've been here a while. I'll show you what areas are off limits. DOLLS: Well, that's my point. There are no areas that are off limits anymore. ME:

Seriously, though, last time we saw them they were getting along just fine, so what happened between then and now?

 9) So, this is what was happening…

DOLLS: Hey, Wynonna. You wanna grab coffee with me? There's something I wanna discuss with you that's personal. WYNNONA: Yeah, sure.

Does this mean that Dolls and Wynonna will be a thing? I truly can’t accept that Doc/Wynonna are over? How? They were even barely started! 

10) Okay, Waverly just suggested Doc is the baby’s father… This can’t be the end of Wynonna and Doc. I’ll Calcutta bitch!

Even though I agree with Wynonna in that it is her situation and it is up to her who to tell and when, Waverly does make a great point that it’s not fair to either Dolls or Doc not to let them know about her “situation.” I’m guessing Wynonna is going to handle it in true Wynonna fashion and it’s gonna be messy.

11) Oh, Nicole and Waverly are so beautiful and hot together?

And I’m super glad they addressed this because it was kind of tormenting me not knowing whether Waverly was really Waverly when they were together while they were possessed…

NICOLE: You taste like my Waverly again. WAVERLY: What's wrong? NICOLE: I was just thinking how much of the other times were you, you? You know, because you said things, and we did things, and I don't know what was real. WAVERLY: No. It was all real. Okay? It was all me. NICOLE: How can you be sure? WAVERLY: Because I don't remember much about when it was in control. But I remember every second I was with you. Each touch. Every kiss.

12) I guess Hypno dude just put them all to sleep?

And the timing couldn’t have been more perfect for Wynonna, she was really dreading the “personal” conversation with Dolls. But why? Is it because she doesn’t see him in that way? Or is it because she truly does and it scares the shit out of her? I’m guessing it’s the latter, but I don’t want it to be. I have nothing against Dolls, but I love Wynonna and Doc! 

13) I guess the Widows did get some time. A few months, actually…

Damn, this means the choice to be pregnant or stop the pregnancy was taken away from her.

How did people survive, though? I mean, Wynonna was covered in dust, and all the food is rotten, which means that time literally went by, it’s not that they just fastforwarded…

Also, damn, their breath must be AWFUL!

14) They need to take drugs to keep themselves awake, but Wynonna obviously can’t take any… and Dolls is making heart eyes at her, and I just realized he still hasn’t seen her baby bump…

15) “The whole town has been asleep for weeks.” Okay, exactly how many weeks? I need to know! So they kept up the whole town asleep this long by threatening with hurting Poppy, who is… Hypnos’ daughter? Lover? I have no idea. But now that Wynonna is awake he can’t make her and the gang fall back asleep… She’s too strong. Damn straight she is!

16) And if people stay asleep too long, they’ll never wake up. Cool. Cool cool cool. Waverly’d better fucking hurry up and wake up Doc yesterday!

17) What are these bitches doing to Wynonna? They’d better not hurt the baby!

18) And this is how Doc fell asleep…

19) Jeremy just woke up and went straight to business. The second seal is apparently in Shorty’s, so they’d been sitting on it this whole time. The problem is that the Widows stole all their plans and research and probably know this already. 

20) And Dolls just realized Wynonna is preggers…

I’m guessing now the million-dollar question will be asked – who’s the father? Wynonna insists that nothing has changed and that she can still kick some evil ass, but… that’s probably the last thing in Doll’s mind right now?

21)  And this is everything I didn’t know I needed in my life?

A pregnant lady kicking ass? HELL YES! 

22) Okay, Poppy is Hypno’s daughter, and the Creepster has obviously taken her to rape her, so Hypno agreed to help Wynonna if she makes sure his daughter is safe, which I think it’s something Wynonna could relate to.

23) The Widows just fucking froze Waverly and Doc? Are they going to eat them up?

24) Bless Nicole, she’s been tracking the Creepster’s phone because she knew he was gross and evil. Bless Wynonna for her reaction, too.

25) Well…

Then he says she’s amazing and tries to save face or a bit of his ego by saying she’s an amazing agent, yeah, right.

26) Please let Jeremy save the day. Pleasepleaseplease.

27) He so didn’t.

28) Oh my God, the fucking Creepster is asking Poppy to role-play as Waverly before he rapes her? PLEASE SOMEONE MURDER HIM! 

29) Ugh, Nicole, why would you shoot him in the shoulder and let him run away? Straight between the eyes! And what the fuck else did he do that will get him killed? Worse than what he’s already done?

30) The Widows managed to break the seal, but there’s a third one…

31) And this is how Wynonna told Doc about the baby…?

He’s all teary-eyed, omg, is he happy? Sad? I guess there will be one relationship in his life with strings after all, and I’m not talking about Wynonna. But damn, he didn’t handle the news well, he just walked away and didn’t say anything… 

32) So… no time has really passed except for the baby… How convenient for the plot...

33) Damn, Dolls just shot Hypno in cold-blood and forced Wynonna to off him. He’s truly butthurt about the baby, isn’t he?

34) Doc wrote a note for Wynonna. And Jeremy knew Wynonna was pregnant all along hahaha! 

35) Clootie?

 Oh. This is what he did. He killed Clootie.

36) Damn, this whole scene… 

WYNONNA: Am I a screw-up? Yeah. I've also been on two types of birth control since I was 13 years old. But the universe doesn't give a damn. It's never given me a choice, it's never… not whether I wanted to be the Heir or a m… a mother. WAVERLY: I know you're overwhelmed, okay? But not everything is because you're an Earp. WYNONNA: Yeah, it is. It always comes back to the curse, Wave, always. I really, I… I can't do this. WAVERLY: Hey. WYNONNA: No. WAVERLY: Hey. WYNONNA: This poor asshole! WAVERLY: Hey I'm not saying it's gonna be okay. But I'm just saying I'm here.

I’m just, wow. There are so many things that I love about this scene and this plot and what it means for Wynonna. First of all, I’m so glad it’s not a supernatural pregnancy and that it wasn’t the result of rape – magical or otherwise. It’s the result of consensual sex, which is sadly unprecedent in supernatural shows. Think about that for a minute.

There’s the question of choice, too. Wynonna didn’t choose to get pregnant nor did she choose to remain so. I doubt she would’ve ended the pregnancy, but the fact remains, she was deprived of that choice. It’s easier to understand her initial denial and reluctance to discuss the pregnancy in light of this final scene. It’s sad but I think it has to do with the fact she doesn’t think she’s fit to be a mother. Wynonna handles herself with a lot of bravado and self-confidence, but most of the time, it feels as though she’s trying the old “fake it till you make it” strategy. She’s deeply insecure and she thinks very low of herself. On top of that, she’ll be bringing a child into this supernatural mayhem that it’s her life. She’s fully aware she’ll be putting a burden on her child, In a way, she fears she’ll be doing to that child the same thing that has been done so many times to her – depriving them of choice.

I’m just very intrigued as to how they’re going to deal with this pregnancy, and I can’t help but wonder again – will there even be a baby or are we facing a Connor situation? There has already been one time-jump, so it’s possible there’s another one…

37) Aw, Doc, this is why I love you…

He’s all fucking in!

38) Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi.Thanks!

[swyllh]

junshua: all real values

title: all real values 

premise: junhui can control probabilities. he can’t make boys (like jisoo) fall in love with him.

genre: angst, fluff, modern magical au

wordcount: 4183

ship: junhui x joshua

warnings: implied sexual content

cross-posted on: AFF

"you are the kind of boy that boys will fall in love with. they will fall hard, fast, and short of your every expectation." 

the coin, suspended in mid-air, glints knowingly. this is where he begins, this is where it falls - everything narrows, shrinks, crowds in on this one moment of judgement. the sound of passers-by and irrelevance fade into an inconclusive, bated breath. junhui squints, feels the pounding of blood and instinct in the back of his head. he pushes the thought forward, needling focus into a single, hard point before his eyes. fate, undecided then, twists and tweaks itself accordingly.

"heads," he whispers. the coin slams back down in his palm, yielding.

"you cheated," a girl younger than him cries, and the bubble of miracle splits open - everywhere, sounds and noises come rushing back in. 

a car passes them by in the adjacent road, and a dog is barking fervently. sunlight winks in the periphery of his upward glance, and everything feels right again.

"i didn't," junhui says calmly, pocketing the coin. "i guessed right." 

he's not good at math. the answers are straightforward and stubborn, laid out in the hard, honest strokes before him. the chalk crumbles at his glare, but remains firmly etched on the blackboard. junhui sighs, and raises his shaking hand. someone, qiutong or yanpeng, fakes a cough behind him. his math teacher, an old but humorous man, folds his arms and gazes knowingly at junhui's unmoving figure.

he presses the chalk into the board, and starts writing gibberish. but if he believes it's right, then maybe he'll be spared the extra homework. 

tell me i'm right, he prays, turning over to look at his teacher. the old man lowers his glasses and squints, getting up from the table. things are looking hopeful, and junhui gulps nervously, willing his gift to somehow transcend the laws of this world to spare him for this one period.

"wen junhui," his teacher says slowly - possibly a tone of wonder? - and then clocks him in the head. "don't sleep in class next time."

he goes on his first date in the summer of 2010. it's hot, and sweltering, and chock full of smoke. the fact that he's wearing hand-me-downs and ratty old sneakers doesn't help, but he'll do what he can with it. the popsicle in his hand is melting with a vengeance, but it's a stinging mint that he regrets buying. whatever. he bites into it, relishing the cold and the strange tingling sensitivity it bestows on his gums. 

"wen junhui!" qiutong yells, nervous but brave. "over here, you dummy!"

he turns to where her voice is, and nods his confidence into place. she looks at him appraisingly, and he smiles brighter. qiutong's dressed up much nicer than he is - she's managed to stay sweat-free, a biological victory on her part, and not past the point of overdressing. he thinks he'll be able to get his first kiss by the end of the day. it's not a particularly nice thought, and it leaves a somewhat sour taste in his mouth. but still. he's a teenage boy, and that's what always happens.

she does kiss him, shyly, on the cheek, and he thinks he should have pulled her back for an actual kiss. but he doesn't, and she stays smiling at him while he walks her home. 

summer vacation passes with a rapid, heated succession of sweet nothings and cotton-dry kisses. his fling blurs into a hazy, stifling memory, like deliberately coy touches against his neck. qiutong, still wearing her hair long and sleek in a ponytail, prances into another girlish infatuation with the boy next door. junhui continues reading his comics in class.

but over the summer break, some things have visibly changed. yanpeng, a funny guy who had only reached junhui's nose at best, returned with a tall, lanky frame. he's still the same goofball struggling with the guitar, but this time, there are clusters of girls in quiet amazement when he practices.

his hands have gotten bigger too - his middle finger and thumb are no longer separated when he circles a hand around junhui's loose wrist. 

"heard you went out on a date with qiutong," yanpeng says, wriggling his eyebrows.

It's meant to be a greasy gesture, but it comes off as rougish and playful. junhui licks his lip, caught by the leftover itch of summer.

"yeah."

"lucky bastard," yanpeng exclaims, leaning back in his chair.

his tanned, uneven neck is all hard edges now, leading down into the barely visible hollows of his collarbones. the rest vanishes behind the clean white folds of his shirt. crisp, junhui thinks, almost cool.

yanpeng leans forward, peering into junhui's face. "did you kiss?" 

junhui doesn't trust his voice to speak (it still breaks embarrassingly whenever he's pretending nothing's changing). so instead, he nods, mildly pleased with the effect of this one simple gesture: yanpeng's eyes widen, beautifully bright with awe.

"you lucky bastard," yanpeng says slowly. 

junhui smirks, his ribs threatening to burst under a shameful mix of pleasure and want and guilt. at this distance, he can see the light-brown flecks in yanpeng's eyes, as well as the flutter of each lash. his gaze wanders down in a sinful, vulgar blink, resting on the other boy's pale, chapped lips. 

it's nothing like qiutong's - she had always been wearing those sticky strawberry glosses that clung to his cheeks possessively. and though they were sweet and feminine, she kept reapplying them. eventually those kisses felt like obligations, and the tacky weight of each smack too heavy to bear alongside the summer heat.

"i wonder what it's like to kiss," yanpeng says, leaning in.

junhui suddenly pulls away, and the motion extinguishes a light in yanpeng's eyes. no one speaks. the silence pushes yanpeng back to face his own worksheets, leaving junhui with a devastatingly attractive view of his straightened spine. 

i wonder what it's like to kiss you, junhui had thought. 

in a heartbeat, he hears those words echoed through yanpeng.

the party clamours on; junhui holds the red plastic cup close to his chest, laughing at some beer-soaked joke that's being shared. qiutong is in the corner, whispering in the same low dulcet tones she'd croaked into his ear the last summer. in the narrow span between a failed beer pong toss and the lucky outcome of a bet, jun finds himself finishing the last of the alcoholic infusion.

yanpeng is kissing someone else now. the sight of it - junhui's suddenly pressing a palm to his mouth, overcome by the acrid taste of bile rising up his throat.

don't look at me, he thinks, stumbling back into the counter and then, why don't you look at me like that. please. please. pleasepleaseplease.

yanpeng shifts, pulling away from his first kiss with a dazed look. the universe, morbidly amused, makes him stare unseeingly through junhui. 

junhui bolts out of the house.

the stars, winking fervently, form an intricate carcass against the hollow sky. junhui wipes at his mouth, heaving uselessly. something bubbles at the base of his throat and reduces him into a laughing wreck.

he pulls out a coin, cool against clammy heat of his fingers. it offers no resolution, and is only ever honest in its glossy, half-hearted reflection. he tosses it, right hand moving in a well-practiced flourish. the coin spins into a white glint, suspended in midair, awaiting judgement. 

"heads," he whispers. the coin slams back down in his palm, yielding. 

he moves to seoul in a few years. the language is an assortment of words uncertainly shaped in the same sounds, but his intonation is always just a little off. korean tastes strangely reminiscent on his tongue, like home in an alternate dimension.

he begins with simple odd acts here and there, underlining auditions with a ballpoint pen, circling unknown words and mistaken characters. but his determination to succeed is what pushes him forward - literally. 

a firm handshake, neatly-pressed shirts and a leatherbound will ticking against his wrist - he wants, he wills. 

it's how he meets jeonghan. the shoot is less moving than he'd expected; when they bring out the cameras and leave the recording mics behind, junhui starts to feel a little worried. but he's immediately overwhelmed by someone entering the room, and can't help but turn around.

the man, glowing and eternally understanding, graces him with a smile - one that forgave all of his misconducts and unfortunate kisses. redemption, too easily earned and hardly ever well-deserved, glides towards junhui in a couple of strides. even the taste of his name on junhui's lips is a refreshing gift. 

"yoon jeonghan," jeonghan had introduced himself. "you must be junhui."

junhui takes his hand, compelled. "yes." 

(something fizzles, pulses, stings just right - jeonghan's eyes light up, mirroring his own.)

in a matter of minutes, he's agreed to move in with jeonghan and his family. 

family is a pretty broad way of phrasing it - from chan to mingyu, the boys have absolutely nothing in common. that is, until junhui sets his bag down in his room, and is immediately accosted by eleven new faces. seungkwan's the first to arrive, his bright, glossy face in a face mask and cucumbers in either hand. 

"you must be junhui!" seungkwan coos.

jeonghan sighs, and gives them a look. "really, seungkwan? you had to get the whole house up and moving at eleven?"

seungkwan startles, and turns to face ten other faces. "no, that wasn't me! i wouldn't have brought them."

at this, chan awkwardly raises his hand. "i think it was you, jeonghan-hyung."

"yeah," seungcheol confirms, wrapping an arm around jeonghan's waist. he presses his face into jeonghan's shoulder, sighing. 

"sorry," jeonghan says, though it's more towards seungcheol than anyone else. "anyway, this is wen junhui."

there are introductions, and the same fizzle runs through the room. junhui knows there's something different in this house, but he just can't place his finger on it. minghao, the only other one speaking mandarin, sits him down, and shoos everyone else out the room. jeonghan retreats, kindly shutting the door behind him; if not for that pointed gesture, he might have felt compelled to follow him, too.

"jeonghan-hyung is very attractive," minghao says, matter-of-factly. "i remember things. you?"

"what?"

minghao shrugs. "everyone in this house has a gift - vernon can heal cuts and bruises, seungkwan is sensitive to the space around him... things like that."

"oh," junhui says weakly. "that makes sense."

minghao's expression softens, if only minutely. "it's alright, we take care of each other here."

junhui, silent for a moment, finally says, "i believe you."

the same current jolts down his arm, and leaps in avid, endless circles around his room. minghao, stunned, stares at him with his mouth agape. 

"does jeonghan-hyung know about this?"

jun shrugs. "he knows there was something, i don't think he knows what it exactly is."

"it's not safe," minghao says quickly. 

"not if i will it to," jun bites back with equal fervour. "and i will."

minghao stares at him, eyes darting to his packed, singular luggage and the newly-furnished room. there must be something that's won his approval, or at least his pity, and so he nods, jutting his chin out sharply and downwards. he raises a finger and taps his temple.

"i'll hold you to that."

probability is a game; junhui has mastered it. each morning when he wakes, he watches the shadows of leaves dance on the ceiling. from there on, he wonders how his day will go, counting the forks in his path: the shared bathroom will be empty, there will be just enough milk for his cereal in the fridge, the train will be right there when he reaches the platform... he could go on forever, count every variable of free will in the deterministic universe. the coin will always yield; the chances stacked in his favour. the odds of every event falls prey to a binomial distribution - it will, or it won't. 

but junhui always wills. he has to. 

seungcheol and jeonghan are exchanging delicious, intimate words in the living room after a particularly rousing dinner routine; mingyu's outdone himself this time. junhui sits by the kitchen counter, and scrolls through his phone. minghao's reading a book next to him. he doesn't know exactly what it is, but something makes him look up.

the sight freezes him: jisoo, jaw tight, is burdened with the strangest succession of emotions on his face. junhui follows his gaze and finds that it lands on jeonghan.

junhui knows it. even at this distance, he can taste the sour, acrid taste in the hollows of his cheek. 

and then jisoo is looking straight at him, eyes wide. junhui takes it as a cue to leave. he stumbles out of the barstool, and rushes back to his room. in the darkness of the stairs, he wonders if someone, anyone in this house is hiding in the black spots of the hallway, listening to the uneven pounding of his heart. he hates being so transparent, so easily read - jisoo had probably felt something, and found a single name curled up behind junhui's facade. 

it hurts, still hurts. he doesn't know if it will ever go away.

(he wants it to, he doesn't want it to)

"junhui?" jisoo's voice is behind him, and an extra pair of feet are padding along the corridor. "junhui."

"yes?" he's glad his voice doesn't crack now.

he turns around to see jisoo, whose face is flushed and marred by worry. 

"please don't tell anyone," jisoo whispers. 

junhui stops in his tracks. "what?"

"just now," jisoo says. "you saw."

it hits him - he had recognised himself in jisoo just then, which means...

pressing his lips together, junhui walks over to his room and pushes the door open. 

"let's talk inside."

jisoo, slightly chastened, enters his room. junhui slips in after him, locking the door behind them. he can't say he's not taken aback - jisoo, one of the older boys, has always been a picture of unmoved tact and poise. now, however, he's worrying his lip and sitting on junhui's bed. junhui settles down beside him, leaving a polite distance between them. 

"it's ironic," jisoo says first, "that someone so attuned to other people's emotions is betrayed by their own."

junhui doesn't know what to say to that.

"i like him," jisoo whispers, soft but firm. junhui is envious of that - confidence is often too loud. "i like him so much, junhui."

"how long?" junhui wants to slap himself for the question.

jisoo takes it in stride. "a while. since i met him. i don't know."

junhui knows what he means. the room, too large for this silence, shifts in and out of focus. 

"i had a - someone i liked," junhui says. "he almost kissed me."

the admission feels more like a confession of guilt. but saying it aloud emboldens him; he takes a coin out of his pocket and makes an unnecessary gesture to show it off. jisoo leans forward, drawn in by the magic trick (or the sudden stir of regret in junhui's chest). 

"heads or tails?" junhui asks. 

jisoo shrugs. "tails."

"heads," junhui says, and tosses it. 

the coin lands. junhui doesn't need to peek to tell he's right. the point's been made anyway - jisoo's solemn now, catlike eyes glowing in the dimly lit room. 

"i pulled him into it," junhui says, "and i pulled us out of it."

the thing about guilt is, the longer you keep it, the more attached you become to it. you think yourself special for it, and let it guide you around; a stockholm prisoner, chasing blindly after the vivid blaze of uneasy heat and stealthy fear. it grows greedily, gaudily, like a precious little secret to be hoarded. 

junhui finds himself casually, carelessly glancing at jisoo. the many innocent gazes exchanged morph instantly into a confirmation of their individual crimes. in many ways, junhui feels like an accomplice, picking out the way jisoo is so readily attuned to jeonghan. to the common eye, it would just be a side-effect of their gifts - jeonghan is a steady force of attraction that demands; jisoo is too emotionally available for his own good.

junhui learns to read jisoo - he doesn't cringe, much less frown. the only indicator of hurt and heartbreak is the small, wrinkly smile toying on his lips and a strained silence to mimic calmness. something about discovering this makes him pleased, as though it confirms his own nagging discomfort. 

(that, and the fact that it's getting harder for him to keep his eyes off jisoo.)

junhui doesn't mean to, but he overhears a fragment of a conversation. he's almost done getting dressed and leaving his room, when jeonghan's voice, meek and confused, slips into his room.

"do you ever hate what you have?" 

there's a pause. "yeah, it's tiring."

it's jisoo. 

"it is, but everyone's dealing with it." jeonghan pauses for a moment, and when he speaks again, it's fraught with doubt so unlike him. "shua, do you think seungcheol...?"

"he does."

"how do you know it's real?"

"it is."

he finds jisoo in his room later, sipping on a cup of tea. jisoo answers only on the third knock, eyes rubbed raw. his shoulders fall at the sight of junhui, and the faltering excuses shed themselves almost immediately. jisoo paces back to his bed, and rearranges the pillows around him.

"i heard," jun says, honest, "what you and jeonghan-hyung talked about in the hallway. i'm sorry."

"it's alright."

junhui joins him on the bed. "you okay?"

"never been better," jisoo jokes, holding out a hand.

junhui takes it. "you're really strong, hyung."

"i'm not," jisoo denies, still smiling despite the puffy eyes. "i'm really not."

junhui shakes his head. "i think you are."

jisoo exhales shakily. 

"believe me," junhui says, earnest. 

when jisoo fixes his gaze on him, junhui suddenly gets an urge to pull out his coin and prove something, anything - he'll spin possibilities out of nothing for jisoo, build an entirely new universe to house jisoo's inexhaustible heart. 

"i trust you," jisoo says, squeezing junhui's hand. 

junhui wakes up to an uncomfortable chill pooling around his shorts. his neck is hot, sweaty, and longing for a second more of dream-jisoo's caress. 

jisoo. dream. kisses. 

junhui sits right up, and fumbles to get the incriminating, tainted pair of shorts off him. in the shower, he turns the temperature down to the lowest, and scrubs at his skin till it turns a shameful red.

"jeonghan-hyung's gone," minghao says to him in the morning. 

"what?"

minghao looks concerned, but jisoo's hand falls on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "he'll be fine; seungcheol said to leave him alone."

jisoo doesn't seem to think so - the twitch of his eye, a grim look poised over his face and the stiff, strained hand on minghao's shoulder... junhui wets his lip and swallows, mind wandering to trace the contours of jisoo's hand. he knows it's a good, steady weight, and jisoo's got long fingers as a guitar player. 

"junhui?" minghao asks. "you okay?"

junhui doesn't trust himself to speak. but jisoo is watching, and the thought of jisoo catching on sends a confusing thrill down his spine.

"check his fanbase's twitter," junhui offers. "i'll talk to the photographers we know."

he grabs his leather jacket, and hops off the barstool at the kitchen counter. as he's about to leave the penthouse, jisoo's hand circles around his wrist. junhui panics, stilling completely. but jisoo's too absorbed in his worry for jeonghan, and misses this.

"thank you, junhui," jisoo says, sincere - knowing the depth of jisoo's feelings for jeonghan makes junhui want to cry, or throw up, he doesn't know which.

so he says, "trust me.",  if only to hear the three words again.

"i trust you," dream-jisoo had whispered into the crook of his neck. 

real-jisoo had just smiled and said, "ten years isn't long when it's with yoon jeonghan."

wonwoo finds his lost keys one day, and knocks politely on his door. when junhui opens it, wonwoo's stonily standing there, keys in his outstretched hand.

"i think you lost these," wonwoo says, features softening. "they were in the shoerack."

"thank you, wonwoo," junhui says, and then adds teasingly, "you're such a keeper."

wonwoo flushes, but smiles anyway. "i'm good at this anyway."

sunlight filters in through the windows and hits the rim of wonwoo's circular glasses just right. he's goodlooking, there's no denying that. junhui plays with his keys, drawing for time, trying to picture wonwoo in place of jisoo in one of his less ridiculous dreams. 

(it still involves a great deal of kissing though.)

"um, junhui?"

"oh," junhui says. "oh, sorry, i just zoned out."

wonwoo laughs, a warm chuckle. "yeah, minghao says you've been doing that a lot."

"thanks, though," junhui grins back, embarrassed. 

there's a creak, and both junhui and wonwoo turn to see jisoo hastily trying to close his door. jisoo jumps, as though caught redhanded for some reason. 

"hey," jisoo says, biting his lip. "sorry for interrupting. i didn't mean to eavesdrop-"

"oh, no," wonwoo says. "i'm going back to my room anyway. bye, junhui, don't lose anymore things."

junhui rolls his eyes, and playfully replies, "you'll always find it for me."

wonwoo shuffles off to his room, shaking his head. junhui's tacky, exaggerated smirk is stuck on his face, until he sees jisoo's expression. there's that same small smile on his lips that doesn't quite reach his eyes. jisoo swallows, his arm limp against his side. then, catching junhui's gaze, quickly flashes him a smile before shutting the door completely.

save for the guitar playing, jisoo is nothing like yanpeng. 

junhui's only memory of yanpeng spans across the awkward adolescent summer of 2010 - the uncomfortable chafe of starched collar, limbs too long and excited boyish smiles. with jisoo, however, there's only the thought of cool, breezy quiet and long, yearning talks in hushed whispers. there's also the occasional hand holding and heads-on-shoulders, but junhui tries not to indulge himself beyond reason. 

jisoo is kind, pliant, and overly generous. he's a good person, really, but he's always catching junhui unawares with his friendliness. it leaves junhui wanting, and trying so hard not to will it to happen. jisoo is no coin, much less a hot-headed experiment for the sake of curiosity.

junhui holds back, tossing pennies in the air and catching them before they can yield to his command.

the day jeonghan returns, abashed and exhausted, junhui's at the door, mildly spiteful; jisoo looks relieved to see jeonghan, and physically delivers him into seungcheol's waiting arms. junhui knows it's childish, knows it's terrible of him to be irked that jeonghan's back - a part of him is soothed now that their resident angel is back, but still.

minghao pulls him away, glaring. "wen junhui."

"what is it, hao?"

"you're not exactly being discreet."

junhui shrugs. "i haven't done anything."

"of course you haven't," minghao says, rolling his eyes. "what was that with jeonghan-hyung?"

junhui shakes off minghao's grasp. "i'll tell mingyu to cook up something for tonight then."

it's the worst idea he could have. there's something eeriely reminiscent of the way jeonghan and seungcheol are curled up on the couch, lost in their own world. junhui's just done with the dishes - he had been avoiding minghao's rebuke - and stepping out of the kitchen. 

he spots a familiar figure near the dining table staring over at jeonghan. 

it's jisoo. jisoo is looking in jeonghan's direction, a small smile on his lips- something in junhui snaps, like a dam bursting apart, acrid bitterness flooding through him. his hand mechanically rises up to cover his mouth, overwhelmed.

don't look at me, junhui thinks, please, please, please, why don't you look at me like that?

jisoo's head turns towards him instantly. junhui barely registers anything before jisoo's hand is wrapped around his wrist, guiding him back to his room. they stumble awkwardly through the hallway, familiar but still unused to the dark. 

in the safety of his room, jisoo's grasp suddenly feels like a morbid reminder of all his dreams. he tries to shake it off, and jisoo lets him, if only to cup his face.

"junhui," jisoo whispers, "i'm going to do something. stop me if you don't want this."

jisoo moves forward, and presses his lips against junhui's. it's everything jisoo is - kind, soft, pliant, and generous. junhui stills, struck by the strange, giddy feeling of redemption, or something better. and then he pushes back, hand tangled in jisoo's shirt, insatiable heart going want, want, want. 

(something fizzles, pulses, stings just right.)

when jisoo pulls away, eyes gentle and bright, junhui feels the rush of spring bloom in the tiny, tentative space between them. he moves in, guided by jisoo's fingers rubbing circles on his jaw, and learns to savour the taste of new beginnings in the quiet murmur of his name.