#but i wanted to share my plants with the world

[proseandpretrichor]

Entwined | Jinx x Reader

Word Count: 598

Warnings: none -> just a short little thought blurb I had to write so my mind would shut up so I can sleep

You were her opposite in every way. It was hardly fathomable– the crazed criminal somehow wooing such a quiet and kind person such as yourself. You did share her notorious ambitions, just existing as a simple botanist living in one of the few docile suburbs of the undercity. You were the type of person to leave bowls of milk and water for the stray animals roaming the streets, unlike your cloud filled mind of your partner often found too dazed by the whirlwinds of her own mind to focus on anything else. While she built mechanisms of chaos, you created simple melodies of plants into teas, tonics, and remedies. Often selling these little miracles for such a small cost it seemed as though you were giving them away for free, something that was nearly unheard of in a place like the undercity. And these products not only were affordable, they worked! They worked exceptionally well, whereas the working class of the Undercity were doomed to rely on shimmer to continue with the grueling pace of the labor demands to provide, to eat, and sleep in a sheltered abode, you offered a chance of true health, of hope, of rest, of peace. Naturally, those who knew you, cherished you, none more so than Jinx. While at first the coupling seemed confusing and odd it soon clicked and couldn’t seem to make more sense. Jinx protected you and cherished you away from the extortionists of the Undercity, seeking to take your gifts and extort them for profit. In exchange for no cost, you gave Jinx a real understanding of the concept of true love, healthy love, happy love – no strings or obligations attached. You accepted her as she was waiting patiently to understand her past, unraveling the strings that wove together the misunderstood woman who held your heart in her jittery hands. And when the pieces of the puzzle finally clicked and you stood back and made sense of the whole picture that made Jinx well Jinx, you didn’t cower away in annoyance or fear, but embraced all the parts of her, even the messy jagged broken fragments. Even though it seemed as though your intertwined existences seemed to cancel the other out, you didn’t try to change her or soften her. You allowed her the freedom to exist as she was meant to, and figure out her place in the world, even when at most times she seemed to want nothing more to destroy it and certainly did her best to. And she knew… she knew for every explosion made by her hands, you were somewhere else mending the cracks and sewing the holes into faded little scares. So it really didn’t matter, then did it? — is the conclusion most people end on. It didn’t matter that you two were so biologically different, not when somehow it made you fit together all the while better. Besides, it's not like anyone could successfully tear you two apart, not if Jinx had anything to say about it– and she certainly did, as long as she was breathing you would be by her side. It didn’t matter what the pair of you concluded the tasks of the day, you would find your way back to each other. Wrapped into an embrace, one that slowly recharged the energy the day demanded of the two of you, and in that little pocket of the Undercity, a place of the forsaken, there was perfection given to the most damned of all women. So perhaps that makes her all the more deserving of it, you decide. 

[tomorrowxtogether]

HUENINGKAI: “I learned to love myself thanks to MOA”

TOMORROW X TOGETHER The Star Chapter: SANCTUARY comeback interview

2024.11.13

He cleared out his favorite hoodies and learned how to handle Cubase with ease. While many things keep on changing, some things are forever constant: the music, the group, and MOA. They are the true passions of HUENINGKAI, whose confident tone reassures us of his commitment to forever.

You cleared out some of your hoodies and stuffed toys—what you called your “horcruxes.” HUENINGKAI: Well, the hoodies were way too small for me anyway. (laughs) I wanted to try out some new styles, too, so I cleared them out. I decided I needed to ditch the hoodies first and try something prettier, including buying some knit sweaters. I also felt I could do away with my old stuffed dolls and replaced them with some new fluffier ones. It’s hard the first time you get rid of stuff, but I found it gets easier after that.

You’ve made a lot of big changes in different areas. You’ve been keeping up with your exercise, even throughout the ACT: PROMISE world tour, forming the TXT Exercise Team and regularly taking “TXD” [today’s exercise done] photos. (laughs) HUENINGKAI: I always take TXD shots. I share them in our group chat. I started working out to boost my self-esteem since they say it helps, and it definitely helps keep my mind off things when all you can think about is how tiring it is! (laughs) You can’t help but lose weight if you box. It’s the only thing that makes me sweat as much as performing in concert. There’s someone on staff who’s been doing CrossFit for a long time, so I recently started too. My goal was never to bulk up and get these huge muscles in the first place but to have a slim build with lean muscles, so CrossFit seems like a good fit for me. And MOA, you don’t have to worry—I’m not going to overdo it. (laughs)

A lot of MOA were surprised the way you threw the guitar during the performance of “Growing Pain” on the ACT: PROMISE tour. HUENINGKAI: My image sure underwent a transformation. (laughs) I wanted to show how even someone like me, who’s usually so pure and soft, has some rock star inside him. I looked up different ways of capturing the idea of smashing up the stage. I initially thought about breaking the guitar, but I figured throwing it would be better. That was all I did early on in the tour, but by the time we took it to the US, I experimented a lot, throwing the pick and flipping my bangs back later on. I was happy I got to show off a different side of myself through all that.

You’ve always had a knack for playing instruments and like playing them for fun. How do feel now that your YouTube series HUENINGKAI Wants to Start a Band is over? HUENINGKAI: I love playing instruments and being in a band, so I was thrilled to be able to make it. Just holding an instrument in my hands makes me feel happy, and actually interacting with and jamming with a band felt like a quintessentially youthful experience. The whole thing was fun to shoot. It never felt like work to me. I approached it like I was going to hang out with a school band.

What do you think makes being in a band so uniquely appealing? HUENINGKAI: I think it comes down to the eye contact you make while playing together. I think chemistry’s the most important part of a band, and when you’re looking each other the eye and having a good time together, you feel fully united. I feel like rock has the power to make unforgettable memories for both the band playing and their audience. I heard MOA saying they’re interested in playing in bands now or want to get back into learning an instrument. HUENINGKAI Wants to Start a Band was a huge motivation for me, and it makes me happy thinking it planted the seeds for some great dreams among MOA. I hope they challenge themselves to pursue whatever they want and achieve their goals, whether that’s playing in a band or something else. Just the act of trying something new takes a lot of courage, and if they build up some experience, they can truly enjoy their youth.

What form did that sense of youthfulness take on when you were making the show? HUENINGKAI: It’s the kind of youthful experience you can only experience during your university years, full of excitement, sorrow, and happiness all mixed together. The song “Kitto Zutto” is actually supposed to be about how I felt filming the Yonsei University episode of HUENINGKAI Wants to Start a Band. I seem to remember working on it between filming episodes two and three. I tried to make the chord progression feel both bright and also have a refreshing, youthful vibe. The very first thing I made was the piano track, but it felt a bit bland, so I turned up the BPM and then it sounded great! The funny thing was that I tried to play at that higher BPM but my fingers couldn’t keep up. (laughs) Since it would’ve been a little bland with just the piano, I felt like it’d be nice to have a catchy melody, so I had a guitar riff repeat from the intro onward. That’s the main highlight of “Kitto Zutto.” The drums gradually build up the sound and create a sense of flow.

How do you think it compares to the first song you produced, “Dear Sputnik”? HUENINGKAI: I’ve grown so much since then. When I was working on “Dear Sputnik,” I didn’t know how to use Cubase, but I used it to make the song this time. It was easy and convenient once I got the hang of it and got better as I used it more and more. Actually, for “Dear Sputnik,” I created the basic structure, but I got a lot of help from other people since it was less than two years since I debuted. I really wanted to contribute a greater share after that, and I did contribute significantly more to “Kitto Zutto.” It’s the first on a path of hard work towards being able to make a song I can truly call my own.

When you had just debuted and you were on Section TV, you said, “Ever since I was a trainee, my one goal has been to make and perform songs that can move people.” To what degree have you achieved your goal? HUENINGKAI: With “Dear Sputnik,” 30%—“Kitto Zutto,” 60%. Right from when I was first writing “Kitto Zutto,” I was thinking about how fun it would be to sing it with MOA in concert. Nothing makes me feel more fulfilled than when I see MOA enjoying a song I produced. When I performed those songs in concert, I went around in front of the audience on the moving stage and could see MOA up close and personal. They all looked so happy. I’m glad I made these songs that MOA can really get into singing along with and that we can touch their hearts with. I think singing them together gives them their final touches. I want to keep making and performing songs that everyone will love and can make them feel happy when they listen to them.

In many ways, the past year has been an excellent showcase of how you’ve grown musically. You really got people talking when you were on Lee Mujin Service and when you performed “BETELGEUSE” on the Nippon TV show THE MUSIC DAY. HUENINGKAI: I got lots of messages from people I know. (laughs) It’s the first time so many people have reached out to me like that. I was grateful but there was something indescribable about it because I feel like I’m still in the process of finding my own voice. I’ve tried singing with something more like rock vocals, and even though I don’t have difficulty hitting high notes, I’ve been thinking carefully about how to make them sound even better. I’d like to find vocals that are a little more unique to me. Obviously being a good singer is important, but I feel like sometimes that individuality is even more important.

You’ve always been a kind person, but you seem pretty strict with yourself. HUENINGKAI: Only when I feel like I’ve perfected a skill can I say that I’ve truly made it mine. I’m sort of a worrier so I practice on my own outside normal rehearsal time. Our new single “Over The Moon” is hard. (laughs) My feeling is, if you want to dance well during live shows, it starts with singing perfectly before you ever even stand up. And when I’m performing onstage, I just think, Just do it like we practiced. I might just end up making mistakes if I try to go beyond that.

I guess “Over The Moon” would’ve been hard since it’s more about making it feel romantic than unfolding a clear sense of progression. HUENINGKAI: It’s not a sad song, but it doesn’t exactly feel cheerful either, so I was aiming for a kind of longing middle ground. I start out singing softly to MOA, almost like a whisper, then add in a touch more of that longing in the chorus. I see “Over The Moon” as me removing the gravelly vocals from “0X1=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You)” featuring Seori and keeping it light.

When watching “Over The Moon,” it reminded me of “9 and Three Quarters (Run Away).” HUENINGKAI: Exactly! It’s got the same ear-tapping move on the line “whisper me my name” as in “9 and Three Quarters (Run Away),” so I ended up watching our old performances for the first time in a while. My image back with “9 and Three Quarters (Run Away)” was meant to evoke the excitement of school days, while in “Over The Moon,” I tried to convey something a little more mature, like a university student.

You also came across as mature the way you led the older members in the 144th episode of TO DO X TXT, “Abandoned Stars,” even though you’re the youngest in the group. HUENINGKAI: That’s probably the most they’ve ever needed me. (laughs) It was scary at first, but I helped them because I felt like they wouldn’t even be able to go in if it weren’t for me. And anyway, it was less scary the second time around. I guess it’s because I’m a levelheaded person. They were clinging to me so desperately I thought my clothes would come off. (laughs) That was a first. But on the inside I was actually kind of glad and thinking about how much they need me.

You also paid YEONJUN a visit when he was shooting the music video for “GGUM.” HUENINGKAI: YEONJUN was the first one of us to do a solo project, and since I wanted to show my support and express my gratitude anyway, I brought some dakgangjeong we could eat together. (laughs) But most of all, I really wanted to learn from him. The stage presence he had as he sang from start to finish all by himself, and watching how naturally he ad-libbed towards the end, was all pretty amazing. (laughs) His solo was a good experience for us, too.

You’ve always emphasized in interviews how you want to be dependable for the rest of the group. What does trustworthiness mean to you? HUENINGKAI: Teamwork. The greater the trust between us, the stronger our group becomes. As a member of a kind of team, it’s always my hope that the other members can continuously rely on me. That’s what being a team is, after all.

And honesty is crucial for mutual trust, of course. In an interview with W Korea, when asked what it takes for a group to last a long time, you said, “Teamwork. Being open with each other about feelings.” HUENINGKAI: I actually never used to talk much about my feelings. I thought things would just work out over time, but now I talk things over with the people I’m close to, like the other members, my family, and the protocol team, no matter what it is. I really listen to their feedback, too. It just feels better that way. But it’s not at all easy to open up about what you’re feeling inside, of course. You can never just be like that from day one. So I just started slowly, and now I’m more open than I was last year.

You posted a letter on weverse for the fifth anniversary of your debut, and in it you talked about how you’ve always been careful to hide your feelings away because you didn’t like to talk about them. What made you decide to open up to MOA? HUENINGKAI: I never wanted to let MOA know when I was having a hard time. I always wanted to show them the good sides only. But the longer we were together, the closer we became, and I realized that also talking about those things was the right way to further develop the relationship. That’s why I was honest and open in what I wrote on weverse on March 4. I resolved to be more honest and open from then on.

It takes a lot of courage to be open like that. How did you find it in you to find the courage? HUENINGKAI: It’s all thanks to MOA’s love. Every time MOA opens up through their fan letters or in person, I can sense their love. The phrase, “my youth is TOMORROW X TOGETHER,” is beautiful, and hearing, “I’ll love you completely for who you are, no matter what—I love you so much,” absolutely fills me with strength. All these people around me were showing me love, but I felt like I didn’t love myself. I learned to love myself thanks to MOA.

It’s clear that you have an immense amount of love toward MOA, too, like when you said, “It may have been hard doing what it took to debut, but I could do it all again 100 times if it meant I could be with MOA.” HUENINGKAI: I wanted to show them just how much I love them. There were a lot of times I felt like giving up before I debuted, but MOA helped me forget all about it. I know what it means to find happiness as an idol thanks to them. I think MOA is what’s made TOMORROW X TOGETHER whole.

[aballadforbarbatos]

lighthouse

a hanahaki piece from mephistopheles’ point of view. i’m using my thought template (? is that what you’d call it?) which can be found here.

if you’d like a more classic piece using the version everyone knows, i can publish something like that too! just let me know!

this was based on a poll; if you’d like spoilers for the type of ending, you can see the results here.

word count: 2.7k+

when he walks into the house of lamentation, he finds it absolutely trashed. dirt looks like it’s piling up in the corners and the few plants you look after are either overgrown or on the brink of death.

there are holes in the walls. he can only assume these are the result of fits of rage, probably from satan, but mephistopheles has no idea what could’ve pushed him over the edge. sobbing echoes from up the stairs. the exact brother that those tears belong to remains a mystery to him.

he’s been on a trip away with nobles. honestly, it was rather boring- and he’d still be on it, were it not for the summoning from diavolo.

goodness. they call you the devilsitter, but you’re not doing a very good job at it. how could you have let the place get into such a state? what, have you gone up to the human world or something? but then he would have been notified. wouldn’t you have… wouldn’t you have told him?

you would’ve told him, right? you wouldn’t have left him in the dark. no, not him. you couldn’t bear not letting him know. as he picks his way through the dirt and trash and debris, he obsesses over this idea for a while, only getting it together when he lies his eyes on diavolo.

“diavolo, you wanted me for something?”

beyond diavolo, he spots lucifer next. the man looks exhausted, and his eyes are red. his movements are sluggish and he has a pile of paperwork in one hand and what looks like coffee in the other, like he’s trying to distract himself from something.

“why is mephisto here?” mammon asks from the couch. “does he even like MC?”

stupid question. he doesn’t grace it with an answer.

thirteen appears next, and mephistopheles suddenly gets a bad feeling. in a wrecked house with similar inhabitants, having a reaper here can only be bad. who is she here to reap?

who��

“i’m sorry, mephistopheles. thirteen thought you might be helpful. i’m sure she’ll fill you in on the way there.”

if not for the fact that death and its subsequent mourning feels like it’s about to engulf the entirety of the house of lamentation, he might’ve turned around and walked out of the house. here at the whim of someone else? really?

he numbly follows thirteen down the hall instead.

she delivers the awful news he expects. it’s you. of course it’s you. human lives are so fleeting, and their bodies aren’t quite as robust as their celestial counterparts. a good chunk of them can’t even use magic. you couldn’t use magic when you arrived!

knowing all this doesn’t stop his heart from cracking when she says your name. doesn’t stop his stomach from twisting. in a most un-noble way, it doesn’t stop him from throwing up in the hall. she looks at him with pity.

no, don’t pity him. he doesn’t need or want that.

with a quick chant, the vomit is gone, and mephistopheles continues on to your room, his stride just a little faster.

she explains to him that it’s hanahaki, a human world disease that stems from unrequited love. this information came from satan rather than solomon, surprisingly. when he asks what that has to do with him, she says that if the person you love confesses to you, the disease will disappear on its own.

she says that everyone has already confessed. everyone except for him.

i don’t have feelings for them. it’s what he wants to say, but the words get stuck in his throat. he’s always aimed to share the truth; have all those years of denying what he really feels now caught up to him? or maybe it’s because he risks bringing your death faster. you know, if the target of your affections is him.

but also, why would it be him? you don’t see him enough. shouldn’t you have fallen for one of the brothers instead? is there a secret one that hasn’t confessed yet? mammon’s always denying his obvious feelings for you. maybe he’s lied about confessing to you. maybe he hasn’t confessed at all. or, or, there could be a secret eighth brother!

thirteen opens the door to your room and ushers him in.

she explained it all on the way here, but it doesn’t prepare him for the sight. even if he had all the time in the world, mephistopheles doubts that he could ever be prepared for something like this.

your chest heaves, and what follows is a violent cough that grates against his ears. after a few moments of silence, the sound of your breathing returns, shallow and raspy. aside from your breathing and coughing, your body is completely still. it’s like you’re already dead.

“how long do they have left?” he asks. she has access to the candles. she should know.

“that would ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?” a dark joke that’s obviously an attempt to comfort herself, judging by the tears in her eyes. not long. maybe it’s worse for her, knowing when your time is supposed to come. she could always pour more wax on your candle, extending your life- but also prolonging your suffering. stuck between a rock and a hard place, he doesn’t envy her.

the most noticeable feature you have is the bunch of flowers sprouting from your face. deep purple petals with a green pistil in the middle. he knows that shade of green too well. he sees it whenever he looks in the mirror. his breath hitches.

“everyone has confessed,” thirteen whispers. “except for you.”

and with that, she leaves, closing the door behind her.

you start coughing again, and mephistopheles feels tears beginning to prick his own eyes. suddenly feeling quite lost, he drops to his knees and takes your hand. it’s cold. stiff. he’s amazed that you’re still here, even as you roleplay a corpse. is this the indomitable human will…?

“MC,” he begins, but doesn’t quite know where to go from there. another flower blooms. they cover your face completely, a little like a veil. he wonders if your eyes are glassy beneath it, lacking the sparkle that they normally hold. he wonders, if the flowers weren’t there, you’d be able to see anything at all.

he decides to stop wondering.

“MC,” he tries again. “i know we didn’t see each other a lot, but-”

his words fail again and he watches his hands shake. he’s probably just imagining it, but it seems like your fingers tighten just a little around his hand. the indomitable human will. a cliche where love conquers all. he presses your hand against his forehead and quietly breaks into sobs.

it’s not fair.

it’s not fair.

it’s not fair that his noble status means that he’s expected to marry someone of equal “value”, and it’s not fair that he doesn’t get to see you that often, his time taken up by schoolwork and newspaper club duties and noble duties and then someone is always hoarding your time anyway, and it’s not fair that he’s already being pushed away and it’s not fair that diavolo is obviously crushing on you and your love being requited, if it really is him, would just end up with him being pushed away more.

it’s probably more acceptable for you to be with an angel than with him.

he wonders what it was like for the others when it came to falling for you. maybe the realisation was soft. fluffy. like falling onto a bed of feathers, a warm fuzzy feeling flooding their brain. what is it like, being allowed to fall in love with you? is it as beautiful as he imagines it to be?

the realisation hit him when he was taking a photo of you for the school newspaper. though the lighting was terrible and the backdrop was even worse, you still looked gorgeous. ethereal. perfect. if it were anyone else, he never would've entertained the idea- but because it was you, he'd snapped a picture, and showed it to you, saying that he'd like to make it the front page photo. you’d laughed, saying you looked awful and to take a better one. put those centuries of photography expertise to good use!

it was like hitting concrete after a long fall. it felt like being torn apart and set alight and ripped to shreds all at once. he resigned himself to being unhappy forever, because you’d surely take to someone that you see far more often than him, and he’d be stuck on the sidelines watching it all happen. he tried to distance himself, but it didn’t work and how could it when you kept making excuses to see him?

he admires the flowers. limited time has cursed them. your short lifespan, his lack of free hours from duties and responsibilities and extra work, kindly piled on by lucifer, and now the clock is ticking away on him yet again because he can’t spit the fucking words out.

at least if you die, the flowers will stay. an eternal reminder of you, and what he couldn’t have. how ironic.

ah. he should be used to it by now. aside from the money and the title, which are only more chains, he has nothing. his little brother is a small comfort. he can’t keep his childhood friend, he can’t keep his position, he can’t even keep you, and you want to be kept.

mephistopheles sucks in a breath, desperate to gain some semblance of stability, but it doesn’t work. his parents will be disappointed, and everyone else will hate him, with the exception of perhaps luke and his lovely little brother. diavolo won’t ever look at him again, probably completely disgusted, and then he’d be completely lost. tears are streaming down his face.

he’s so pathetic.

that’s not an exaggeration. you’re on death’s door, and he has the power to save you, and he can’t because he’s afraid. he doesn’t deserve someone like you. you, who goes above and beyond when it’s needed. you, who wasn’t immediately turned off by his attitude. you, whom he loves.

he recalls something that you said to him when you were telling him about your plan to massively prank lucifer. he remembers asking you if you’re not afraid of the consequences- you’d laughed at him, but not cruelly.

the only thing to fear is fear itself!

all that time he spent talking down on you and humans. through his heartbreak, he lets out a gentle sigh, resigning himself to the future.

maybe it won’t be as bad as it seems. maybe you’ll make the consequences lighter. maybe with your presence, he can hallucinate his life getting better. maybe, maybe, maybe. maybe he could learn to hope again, instead of uselessly grasping at straws. he chokes out the words, pressing your cold, stiff hand to his forehead. your breathing has slowed. your coughing has stopped.

like it could ever be that easy.

maybe…

maybe he’s too late.

mephistopheles feels like he's watching what’s probably the last of your candle burn out, his heart threatening to shatter. your chest heaves again, and he prepares himself, ready for the horrible hacking noise that’ll follow.

but it never comes.

instead, he feels your grip on his fingers tighten. it’s only a little, but it’s there. he didn’t imagine it. that was real. he’s too young and it’s too early to be hallucinating you doing things, so that was definitely absolutely real.

right?

there’s a soft exhale that he barely hears, and he watches the flowers begin to wither and decay. his heartbroken and absolutely pitiful tears turn into happier ones as warmth returns to your hand and life begins to flood back into your body.

he doesn’t move from your side, amazed at how quickly you’re recovering. it’s your breathing that he finds he’s most excited about, the hoarseness quickly disappearing.

you turn your head to him. even with the flowers gone, you look absolutely exhausted. perhaps that’s to be expected.

“say that again.”

it comes a lot easier the second time.

“i love you, MC. to the moon and back.”

a smile tugs at your lips. “i love you too.”

it takes him a while to come out of the room. you want to come with him, and are too stubborn to stay on your bed, complaining that it’s boring and you’ve already been there for days. unfortunately, you’re too weak to stand on your own (not that he’s particularly surprised), so you end up leaning quite heavily on him instead.

very slowly, you make it out of the room. thirteen’s outside, probably waiting for the bad news.

“finished?”

“sorry, thirteen.” you grin weakly. “i’m still alive.”

still alive and walking, which he’ll probably get told off for letting you do. he thinks about it briefly and instead lifts you up so that he can walk faster he’s supporting your legs with one arm and your back with the other. the reaper purses her lips as her tears finally spill over.

“this makes it quite difficult to hug them, you realise.”

“they’re too weak for hugging.”

“i could probably manage a little hug-”

“you’re too weak for hugging.”

you huff out a laugh. “whatever you say...”

you don’t comment on the state of the house as he carries you to the common room, thirteen animatedly talking beside him. mephistopheles tries hard not to look down; he knows you’ll be staring at him adoringly, finally free to.

the only people still in the common room are mammon, diavolo, and barbatos. lucifer must’ve gone to his office to drown himself in paperwork. thankfully, mammon’s scream (thirteen held her hands over your ears, but he’s not sure it did much) alerts everyone in the house. one after the other, people appear in the doorway, their eyes wide and red.

levi looks like he’s cried so much that he can’t cry anymore, and yet he still manages to summon some tears as he sees you flowerless.

“you can all go back to school now. isn’t that exciting?” you laugh, and belphie looks at you dryly, obviously unimpressed by the idea.

“ha. you’re so funny, MC.”

mephisto looks down to see a weak smile gracing your face. then something shifts in you and you start complaining.

“i feel like a newborn baby, being stared at like this.”

“i can set you down, if you like,” he offers, and you shake your head, snuggling further into his chest. he wonders if you can hear his heart pounding.

“no thank you. i like being in your arms. by the way, this hold is called the bridal style carry in the human world.”

mephistopheles very nearly drops you at that.

and much later on, after many games of rock paper scissors and many ties between thirteen and satan when it came to feeding you (you probably could’ve done it yourself), diavolo pulls him aside for a walk.

here it comes. the rejection.

mephisto braces himself.

“you know, i think they’ll be good for you.”

…?

“diavolo?”

he laughs. “what, did you think i was going to punish you, or something? it’s not like it’s something you can control, falling in love.” there’s a pause. “i hope you didn’t beat yourself up too badly before you confessed.”

ah. so he went through something similar. perhaps there’s a shared understanding between demons of higher rank that he’d previously overlooked.

“also-” the prince musters up a grin. “they’d be pretty damn annoyed to know if you did.”

bonus:

as he returns from his walk, he sees you leaning on satan, waiting for his return. except you only look at him once, mouth “watch this”, and focus your gaze entirely on diavolo.

mephistopheles wonders if he should be worried.

given that it’s you, the answer is probably a resounding yes.

“diavolo,” you begin, fidgeting. “i was wondering if i could maybe get a present? you know, since i nearly died.”

diavolo’s eyes light up. “absolutely! anything you want, it’s yours!”

“anything?”

“anything.”

your eyes gleam with cunning. he wonders if maybe he should stop you from taking advantage of the literal ruler of devildom, but you did just come back from playing a dead body, so…

“then, could you make mephisto the president of the newspaper club again?”

the temperature of the room gets several degrees colder as lucifer glowers from the corner. diavolo only laughs before granting your request and whispering to him:

“see? good for you.”

mephistopheles watches you smile triumphantly.

maybe everything really will be okay after all.

[wooyoungbf]

Hello 😇👋,

My family and I are facing incredibly difficult times due to the ongoing war in Gaza 💔. Our dreams and future have been shattered, leaving us feeling lost and without purpose. My brother Anas and I have launched a GoFundMe campaign to help us escape Gaza, continue our education, and support our family.

Making a small donation or sharing the campaign — would mean the world to us.

Link: https://gofund.me/9c46877a

Thank you so much for your kindness and support 💖

With gratitude,

Ahmed Basil

Vetted by @90-ghost & by association

link to campaign

€8,851/€29,000

as of november 12 2024

tags for reach under cut

@yoohyeon @jaebeomtual @flamingothing @tacticaltechs @kiwipit @nosekiss @cypresstheworld @sangrialuvr @masonspecialist @gfwooyo @solpng @floating-plants @aitakatta @kibumkim @diedbydeth @kosmogrl @insomtiny @cutiepuff @rejoiceandcomplain @markmallow @2030kamenriders @oomfy @lilyblossoming @sunmisbf @waterrtypes @sugurugetos @taengoo @tequilajones @tokkionline @suhyeondosie @iceonmyteeth

@shadowleaf10 @greggorylee @braincloggedwithcats @all-alone-in-the-moonlight @screaming-butprettythings @chocohedgie @trueloveistreacherous @knights-of-the-smol-birb @entsian

lmk if you want to be removed

[yourplaceinaugust]

here is a plant tour that absolutely no one asked for

this one is Cameron named after Richard Cameron from dps bc he's a bit of a prick :)

this is Maurice my sister gifted him to me he's a baby of her own aloe he's seen better days but i have two cats who like to chew on him and im trying to get them to stop

here we've got Jenny on the left and Genie on the right i swear Genie isn't dead they're just a flower who has lived it's first cycle and is resting until the next one

these three are Annalise, Gabriel, and Nathan named after the characters from the bastard son and the devil himself they were my first cacti and are doing great

this is Elle ofc named after Elle from heartstopper (ignore the corpse of my succulent in the corner. i failed him and im too sad to throw him away)

this is Gwen named after both Gwen Stacy and Gwen from merlin she was my first ever plant and she was gifted to me for my birthday

and last but not least we have syd named after syd novak from i am not okay with this she is my most recent plant and i love her dearly

[tytonnidaie]

sorry i can’t go out I reread trimax and was once again hit with the realisation that at the very end knives wanted vash to kill him because they could never go back to being brothers like they were ever again and its all his fault . and vash saved him. yeah its gonna be all day

[dutybcrne]

Aight forget Kaveh, Nari is the new love of my life jdhdbdb

[sapsolais]

!

[augustinewrites]

dress + nanami

“i bought you something.”

you frown slightly, eyeing the sleek box that nanami places on the bed.

“but i didn’t get you anything…”

he simply smiles, gently taking your hand and smoothing his thumb over the gold band adorning your ring finger. “allowing me to marry you this afternoon was the greatest gift you could ever give me.”

memories of your little ceremony still linger in the forefront of your mind. you’d married him atop a small rooftop garden filled with this season’s blooms, surrounded by your closest friends and family. you’d never been an extremely sentimental person, but the way he’d gazed at you and whispered vows meant for your ears and yours alone…you’d hold that close to your heart forever.

“no take backs, by the way,” you say when you feel tears prick at the back of your eyes once more. “you’re stuck with me, even though i snore.” 

“your snores are adorable. like a bunny holding a chainsaw.”

“hey!” you laugh, letting him wrap his arms around you from behind, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. 

“just let your husband spoil you, hm?”

nanami loves to spoil you. he’s always had such lovely taste, picking soft, pretty things that catch his eye in shop windows— a pair of leather gloves, a stylish sweater, a diamond bracelet. each gift is thoughtful, always complimenting you perfectly,

you lift the lid of the box, peeling back layers of tissue paper to reveal a delicate, silky white dress.

“kento…” you breathe, feeling his lips curl into a smile against your skin. gingerly, you lift the feather-light dress by dainty straps, taking in the cowl neck and tasteful high slit. 

simple, yet elegant, like him. 

“for you to wear to the reception,” he murmurs, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. “do you like it?”

“i love it,” you tell him truthfully, turning to look at him. “help me put it on?” 

your husband couldn’t look more pleased, especially when deft fingers undo the back of your bespoke wedding gown and he sees what you’d snuck on underneath.

but nanami is nothing if not efficient, clearing his throat before helping you step out of your current dress and into your new one, the material gliding against your skin like butter.

“you’re a vision,” he whispers, brushing another kiss to the back of your neck. with heat in your cheeks, you turn in his embrace, bringing your lips up to his. 

the rest of the world begins to melt away, as it often does when you’re with him. but it’s different now. it’s different because in the eyes of the law, you’ve chosen him and he’s chosen you. 

so you share eager kisses in the warm lamplight of the hotel room, his hands gentle as they slide over the smooth material of your dress. 

and eventually, up the slit resting atop your thigh. his warm hands rest on your bare skin, setting off sparks of pleasure up your spine.

“we shouldn’t,” you breathe as he plants open mouthed kisses on the hollow of your throat. “we need to check on our guests— you know satoru gets weepy when he’s had more than one drink.” 

nanami pulls back to look at you, pupils blown with desire as he takes in your smeared lipstick and wide-eyed stare.

he responds by pulling you close with his grip on your hips, a groan slipping past your lips as he does so. 

“they can wait,” he tells you, walking you backwards until your knees buckle against the edge of the bed. “i’ve waited long enough to be alone with my wife.”

he’s waited for this moment even when he hadn’t realized he’d wanted this, wanted you. he’s wanted it since the days you’d shared at jujutsu tech, when he’d been a besotted schoolboy, pining after his classmate. 

nanami’s always been a patient man—

he yanks the skirt of your new dress up around your hips and kisses a trail down your chest.

— except when he’s not.

[streetlamp-amber]

never ending night

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 1.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: pregnancy, pure fluff NOTES: hello hi i’m ailís and i’ve been meaning to start a blog where i can post some one shots that i’ve been thinking of as a way to motivate myself to finally write down my ideas so this is it. i’ll be double posting my stuff on ao3 (which you can find in my bio) and will eventually make a masterlist as well as a navigation post with a list of fandoms/characters i write for. also, english isn’t my first language.

It was close to three in the morning when Bruce finally joined you in bed after a long night of patrolling and fighting bottom of the barrel criminals all night. He showered in the bathroom on the first floor of the manor to avoid making too much noise and waking you up, but when he finally walked in your shared bedroom, you were already awake, sitting up against the headboard.

“Darling, what are you doing still up?” Bruce asked you as he reached his side of the bed.

The room was dark par for the moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains, meaning your husband had yet to notice the state you were in.

“Dick had a nightmare,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper due to how tired you were. “It took me two hours to get him to fall back asleep and when I finally came back here, this little one started kickboxing me and keeping me awake for another hour,” you continued rubbing your round belly in hopes of soothing your baby to finally catch some sleep.

“I’m sorry I wasn't here to help,” Bruce apologised, planting a kiss on your temple as he held you close to his body.

“It’s alright, Gotham needs you,” you dismissed, not at all angry.

“Still, you’re six months pregnant. You’re growing our child inside your body, you need all the rest you can get,” he softly argued. “I would've come home earlier but all the amateur criminals came out tonight.”

“Bruce, it’s fine,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned his head into your touch. “You’ve already been cutting your patrols shorter since we found out about the baby. As long as you keep coming back home to us, alive, then I’m not mad.”

Not knowing what to say – his gratefulness for having someone so accepting of his duty as Batman was almost overwhelming, even after all those years – Bruce kissed your palm while staring at you with the same look full of love that he has been sporting since the first time he met you six years ago.

“How’d I get so lucky to fall in love with the most understanding and selfless person I know?” He asked while grabbing your hand on his cheek, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing them gently.

“Now that’s a lie,” you rebutted, a loving smile on your lips, lowering your joined hands on the bed. “You’re more selfless than I am. You’re the most selfless man in the world.”

“Let’s not start this never ending argument again,” Bruce chuckled, now his turn to hold your face as he brought you in for a kiss.

You happily sighed against his lips, the feeling of home that overtook you every time you tasted them was a nice welcome in this interminable night. But the kiss was cut short as you felt your baby kick again and you let your head fall back as you groaned.

“She’s still kicking?” Bruce asked you, he couldn't see the movements under your skin due to the darkness of the room and your hand on your belly.

“We don't know it's a she,” you reminded him instead of answering. You had both decided to wait until the birth to know the gender.

“And I’m telling you, I know it's a girl,” your husband repeated for what could be the hundredth time.

You also secretly hoped it was a girl, but Dick really wanted a little brother. Bruce and you were still in the process of warming him up to the idea of a little sister and it was slowly starting to work.

“As long as she doesn't come in my room,” your eight year old son had said last week, with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.

“I doubt she’ll be doing that for the first few years, chum,” Bruce reassured him, fighting off a slightly amused grin.

“And the baby will have its own room with its own toys,” you added.

“Will I still be able to play with the baby?” Dick asked after a moment, uncrossing his arms and a hopeful look filling up his blue eyes.

“Of course you will, bubs,” you said, your fingers threading through his black hair that fell over his forehead.

“But only with her toys at first, some of yours are not suited for a baby,” Bruce pointed out, ever the overprotective father.

Bruce had lowered himself down under the blanket so he could be laying head levelled with your belly, his hand now replacing yours over the bump.

“Hey trouble,” he whispered to your child and the baby kicked again, making him smile lovingly at the movement he felt under his hand. “You shouldn't be awake this late at night, you know.”

“You're one to talk,” you commented, tone almost reprimanding.

“She doesn't know that,” Bruce looked up at you as he defended himself before his gaze fell back on your belly. “Mommy is really tired,” he continued talking to your baby, his hand now rubbing soothingly over your round stomach, “and she needs her rest to do all the work so you can come out all healthy and beautiful. Well, you're definitely gonna be the most beautiful baby if you end up looking like your mother, but that's not the point.”

You smiled at the cheesy comment and your fingers found their place in Bruce’s hair, brushing through it and nails occasionally scratching his scalp.

“Your brother Dick can't wait for you to come around,” he carried on. “Said he will teach you all sorts of acrobatic tricks once you know how to walk. And he asked Alfred if he could help paint the nursery when we finally decide on a colour.”

“And I keep telling you we should do soft green,” you argued.

“I’m not changing my mind from primrose pink,” he told you with a sly grin.

“The room won’t be pink, even if it’s a girl. And that’s final,” you firmly said. Your husband will not be winning this one argument, no sir.

Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes before focusing back on your belly. “I hope you’re not as stubborn as your mother,” he whispered to the baby, as if he was having a private conversation with them and that you weren’t there. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her, but I won’t be able to say no to you even when I have to, so it would save me a lot of reprimanding from Mommy if you’re not as tenacious as her.”

You smiled to yourself as you continued listening to your husband talk to your unborn child as you threaded your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness it had after a shower. Bruce usually gelled his hair to appear more professional when he was working in the day, and then it would get all mixed up with his sweat under his cowl when he was working as Batman. When he would come back to you after the day was over, you would refuse to touch his hair until he had showered, the texture of the gel and sweat too gross on your fingers for you to ignore.

As Bruce continued talking to your baby, his voice started lulling the two of you to sleep. The baby hadn’t kicked in over almost ten minutes now, and the peace you had waited for so long to arrive made you aware of how heavy your eyelids were. You slowly lowered yourself down the bed, getting in a comfortable position with Bruce’s help where you could finally lay your head on your pillow and it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up on you.

At the sound of your soft, barely audible snores, Bruce turned his head away from your bump to find you asleep with your free hand raised next to your head on your pillow, the other one still tangled in his hair.

He planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your belly, eyes closed as he took a moment to absorb the fact that a baby that was half you and half him would be joining your world in a little more than three months. Bruce wasn't known to cry, the only time you ever saw him cry was as you walked down the aisle at your wedding, but tonight, a lonesome tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your stomach, where your child was growing, because Bruce never believed he would ever get to experience again the amount of love he hadn't felt since he was eight years old.

As he observed you, sleeping soundly with his child coming to life inside you, after you comforted Dick back to sleep, Bruce, for a moment, felt overwhelmed by all the love in his life. When he became Batman, he crossed out the idea of ever having a family (other than Alfred), of settling down with someone he loved and who loved him back.

But somehow, the universe put you on his path, as a miracle or a guardian angel or simply as an anchor to life outside of Batman, he didn't know. You walked into his home, into his life, to remind him that he, Bruce Wayne, was also deserving of love, of family, of happiness. Then Dick came along, rather unexpectedly but still no less welcomed, and Bruce started entertaining the idea of having children with you. He definitely wasn't opposed to it, but it wasn't something he wanted to jump right into, especially with Dick having just entered your lives. You were both young, he in his early thirties and you in your late twenties, you could allow yourselves a couple of years just the three of you (four with Alfred) before expanding the family.

So it was rather shocking when two months after you and Bruce had officially adopted Dick that you found out you were pregnant. It both took you by surprise but after talking through it together, you couldn't be happier. And the two of you haven't stopped being happy about this new little addition ever since.

Bruce rose up from his position next to your belly, your limp hand fell from his head as he did so, and he laid on the bed next to you. He delicately kissed your forehead, then your nose before falling back on his pillow and whispered “I love you” as he curled around your body, his hand resting on your belly as he fell asleep.

[innerfare]

You’re Jealous

 Summary: You get jealous of someone else in his life.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, and Kid

Genre: Slight Angst // Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy:

He never told you Boa Hancock was in love with him, and when you find out, you have to remove yourself from the situation before you have an emotional outburst and start something with the Pirate Empress. The problem is, you don’t even know which emotion will spill out of you. Finding out the world’s most beautiful woman, and a powerful Warlord, no less, is desperate to marry Luffy is a whirlwind, to say the least. Luffy can seem clueless at times, but his emotional intelligence is through the roof, and he picks up on what has you upset almost straight away. He knows to give you some space, and when he senses you’re ready, he approaches you with a handful of wildflowers he picked. He doesn’t really say much, just pulls you into a hug, presses a few kisses into your cheek and temple, and says in your ear, “you’re my girl.” 

Zoro:

He didn’t mention Perona was also at Mihawk’s castle for those two years until a few months after the crew gets together. He tells a story that features her, and you realize there was a woman keeping him company. Your heart drops into your stomach. Zoro insists he didn’t mention her because he didn’t think she was relevant; the only thing Perona did those two years was annoy him. He’s actually the one who won’t let it go, not you (even though you are pretty jealous). Whereas you’d prefer not to talk about it, Zoro is wracked with guilt because he’d never considered the whole thing in a relationship context. Him fretting constantly over it actually heals your jealousy because you realize you’ve never seen him panic over the prospect of hurting anyone else’s feelings. 

Sanji:

Even with a third eye, Pudding is stunning. And Sanji almost married her. It was before you two were together, but listening to the stories from Whole Cake, hearing how close he came to marrying another woman, knowing she really did fall in love with his kind heart and wonderful cooking, turns you into a little green monster. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous of a woman you’ve never met before, a woman Sanji chose not to marry, but you can’t help it. Sanji is completely shocked that you would feel jealous over his relationship (if it could even be called that) with Pudding, though after thinking about it some more, he does realize why you might be jealous that he had a fiancé. His solution is to bring you a bouquet of roses and walk you through the dark details of his life, telling you things he’s never outright told anyone, so you understand the special place you have in his life. 

Ace:

He collects people without trying, and often times, without realizing, either. Ace thinks he’s just making friends, but you see the way the women he laughs and shares drinks with are drawn to him like plants to the sun. He promises them freedom and adventure (and he has a very nice laugh), and you can see how it excites them. You don’t really mind it, knowing Ace well enough to see the way he holds those women at arm’s length, even if he seems close with them (such is the magic of Fire First Ace). But Yamato makes you jealous. It’s not hearing the way they laughed together but hearing the way they fought that gets to you. You know how Ace lives to fight and even just roughhouse, you know how he’s a rough and tumble guy, and you worry you’re not tough enough. Should you be punching his arm when he makes a joke? Should you be trying to trip him out on deck? What should you be doing? When you finally come clean with Ace about what’s been bothering you, he actually laughs. “If I wanted to be with someone who gives me hell, I’d be sleeping in Marco’s cabin every night. Besides,” he says, scooping you up in his arms, “I like being able to manhandle you.” 

Sabo:

Sabo is a flirt, and you knew that going into your relationship. It actually doesn’t bother you when he flashes that charming smile of his at someone else or swoops in to save a damsel in distress (a speciality of his) and even serves to entertain, especially on the rare occasions his flirtations are rebuked. What does bother you, though, is his tight relationship with Koala. You know it’s ridiculous to be envious, you know Koala would sooner saw off her arm than kiss the man she considers her irksome big brother, but they’ve known each other since they were little kids, and Koala has been through so much with Sabo that the pair have such a close bond. It’s not the angry kind of jealousy that bubbles up in you when Koala mentions something about Sabo’s past that she assumes you know but you don’t, just the sad kind that you try to keep to yourself. Surprisingly, Sabo notices, though you don’t realize until he hugs you from behind and mumbles in your ear that he’s glad you’re the only one who knows he has a skincare routine, his silly words diffusing your mood and acting as the exact affirmation you needed. If it’s not enough, though, he’ll happily prove his loyalty to you by challenging Koala to a karate match, though.  

Law:

Dr. Law and Dr. Robin sure do get along well- so well, in fact, you can’t help but wonder if they are better suited to each other than you and him. Even if they didn’t have such good chemistry, it would be impossible not to feel a touch of jealousy toward the archeologist. She’s intelligent, beautiful, fiercely loyal, a member of the Straw Hats, and has an impressive bounty that she earned even before she became a pirate. Needless to say, you find yourself brooding when the Robin brings him a beer and sits down beside him to discuss the immune systems of fishmen, a topic both are rather interested in. Of course, you’re interested in that, too, thus the reason Law realizes something is wrong when you don’t participate in the conversation. He ends up excusing the two of you and taking you to bed, worrying you had too much to drink, the thought you may be jealous never once occurring to him. You end up not saying anything (many thing in your relationship with Law being unspoken) and just sleeping it off, the fact that he excused the two of you proof enough of his loyalty. 

Kid:

He doesn’t ever talk about his first love, Victoria. In fact, you didn’t even know she existed until Killer got drunk one night and began speaking of his dearly departed. What he didn’t mention was that Kid, too, had been in love with her. It only comes up the next night when you mention it to Wire, who mentions it was the death of his first love, Victoria, that put Kid on the war path and united the first four members of the Kid Pirates. Realizing Wire messed up, Heat chimes in to say, “he’d do the same for you.” But you’re not convinced, mainly because Kid never told you any of this. It tears you apart, leaves you tossing and turning for nights on end, until you finally burst into Kid’s workshop one night ranting about how he doesn’t trust you and holds you at arm’s length. “Heat says you’d do the same for me, but-” Kid cuts you off and says, “I wouldn’t do the same, I’d do worse. Much, much worse.” And from the wicked gleam in his eye, you’re inclined to believe him. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[okwonyo]

GIVE YOU THE WORLD, 或 𓈒𓈒 when you pout.

𝒾 ⠀⦂ ⠀ 엔하이픈 ୨୧ f ╱ r! 7OO fluff established relationship ── kissing skinship ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ ( 𝑜𝑜𝑒𝑢𝑣𝑟𝑒𝑠 )

지아 ⠀⦂ ⠀enjoy this updated version, my loves 💌

rblgs♥︎fdbcks & C𝑙𝑖CK

HEESEUNG

listen, he is only a man. a simple and weak man. so, it's natural that his pulsations and desires are often too strong to be controlled.

it would be ten times stronger when it comes to you.

so, yes, when he sees your lips curling into a tiny pout and a slight frown appearing on your face when your boyfriend is not giving you enough attention for your liking— he coos. how could he not?

“are you pouting, baby?” he would ask, hands cupping your face while you roll your eyes at the evident and sincere fondness in his eyes. because, of course, he would love that.

then, he would pull you in a hug that you would not even respond to: your arms like glued under your chest. he would not give up, though, quite the opposite.

his arms would tighten around you, rocking you both side to side before pulling away slightly and affirming, “my attention is all yours now, alright?”

(and okay, maybe you would break a smile at that.)

JAY

you would always get your way.

at least, with that is for sure. he would not be scared to admit that, there is no reason for him to be scared, anyway. it is not like he would ever put up a fight.

which is the exact reason why he would end up in a sanrio shop at ten in the morning despite the fact that you both want out to get bread, for breakfast, in the first place.

(you opted for croissants instead— he supplied.)

he would find himself tilted his head down so you could put a badtz-maru hairpin in his hair— because he, too, is a rockstar. now, the ‘he’ in question being your lover or the animated penguin is up to interpretation

you would touch the hairpin of you favorite character on your hair, where he carefully put it.

“can we match?” you would ask, and before he can even consider, the deadly cute pout plus eyelashes batting combo would pop up. his breath would hitch.

his eyes would flicker from your eyes to your mouth, gaze getting softer and fonder although he didn’t think that was possible. “of course, my heart” he would respond while planting a kiss on your head.

JAKE

it might sound a bit over-dramatic or referred to as ‘overreacting’ but he would—and these would be his own words—he would feel his chest closing on itself and his vision getting blurry and his breath getting fainter and his brain aching and maybe he would be right.

his puppy eyes staring at you, kicked puppy expression written all over his face as you blatantly ignore his presence as a whole.

this would be so unfair. because your lips would look so cute and read to be kissed senseless. alas, you would always turn your head away from his kisses every time he tries.

he would whine, “come on,” even plead, “please, at least kiss me.” silence, “i feel like i’m dy—”

the connection of your mouths would send him in an instant daze. sweet lips of yours moving on his stopping him from saying something dumb—and annoyingly cute. his favorite genre.

although you go back to pouting, this kiss you shared will shut him up for a while. you both got what you wanted.

SUNGHOON

“listen,” he would say softly yet—trying to be—firm. “i know you really want to but i don’t think it is…”

when he turns his head to look at you, his words would get stuck in is throat, his chest heaving when your gaze falls into his.

and it is not like he would not try to continue but his mind would erase all his memories. head suddenly full of different plans of your wide eyes and pouty lips in multiple sizes.

as if you would be playing some weird psychological trick on him— he would suddenly nod, slowly, surely drinking the message you are trying to communicate with him.

“i-i mean,“ he would whisper. “we can totally do that,” heat would rise to his cheeks when he would see you smile. “and whatever you would like.“

(and a few kisses, of course.)

SUNOO

would be the starting this whole pouting and sulking mess— but he would soon realize he had started a competition he can’t win.

“are you—are you really sulking, right now?” you would ask him, snort to be completely honest. and after a while of poking his cheeks and being welcomed by silence you would leave.

this man would miss you as soon as you leave. because, even if he would be sulking, there is really no point in doing so if you are not watching him. plus, he wants you to be with him anyway.

so, he would follow you three seconds after you leave.

then when he sees you being the one with jutted lips, his boyfriend instincts would immediately take over his sulking nature.

he would stumble on a few things on his way to you, and when he finally has his hands on you, he holds tight, “okay, okay,” he would say as he pulls you closer. kissing your cheek. “i’m sorry, please don’t sulk.”

JUNGWON

your first mistake would be thinking that he would do anything as close as leaving you alone if you would dare start to pout.

he would shamelessly take that as an invitation and would kiss your pout away. “i’m sorry,” he would declare after getting a taste of it.

he would stare at you with a mocking frown for a while. waiting for you to say or do something. but you wouldn’t, because you would like it.

he would kiss you again. soft and loving. “i love you,” he would declare. with confident eyes and a steady voice. like a prince determined to get his princess back, sort of.

your voice would crack when you immediately say back, “no,” because of the smile trying to break on your face— he would take that as a win.

“i love you,” he would press, against your lips

and your teeth would collide as you would both smile so widely.

RIKI

would love to tease you. it would be a sort of love language, if you like to put it that way. one of many, because he has a lot of love for you inside of his chest and cannot help but show it in every way possible.

therefore, yes, he can be much of a tease sometimes. but, thus, only if you know that he doesn’t mean any of it.

he would always get worried when you pout for too long. when you don’t speak anymore and, just, sit there with a frown.

he would come sit next to you, close, so you know be is still there. “i’m sorry,” he would say with a serious face and tone. worry forming in his chest and reflecting in his eyes.

his heart would lighten when you chuckle in disbelief, “no worries,” you would nudge his shoulder like those teenage girls trying to flirt. “i was just messing with you.”

and he would groan in relief before falling onto your laps, and getting a apologetic kiss.

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open.

[milo-is-rambling]

Anyone else in love with the universe but also want to become a more real part of it by dying and losing this consciousness but also knows that’s crazy bc this is the version of life the universe has given me now this is what my atoms have combined with years of history to create and I should treasure this version of my life I get to have but also like 🔪🤪

[aegonstradwife]

obsession | aegon targaryen x reader

summary: anonymous requested: aegon being obsessed with his new wife, but stuck in council meetings all day. when he finally sees you at night he's always trying to impregnate you and give you as many babies as possible.

warnings: established relationship, smut. (oral, handjob, piv, creampie, impreg.)

a. note: link to the original request.

You and Aegon have only been married a week, and already even a day away from him feels dull and empty, like a world stripped of all color and joy.

Though you didn't know him well before your betrothal, you've found your new husband to be doting and sweet and quite handsome to boot. To be married to a Targaryen - much less the king - is any highborn girl's dream. They are the rulers, the protectors, of the realm.

But that's hardly what matters to you, when it comes to Aegon.

He may be king, and you now queen, but you find yourself believing you would love your husband even if he were a lowly pauper from Flea Bottom.

And that's why you're now hurrying up to your bedchamber after a long day of entertaining the keep's guests from the riverlands. You've taken tea and other small meals with the visiting lords and ladies all godsdamned day.

All you want now is to see your husband after many long hours away from him.

On his part, Aegon himself has been busy with small council meetings and petitions throughout the day and has been eagerly awaiting your return since he got back to your shared bedchamber and found you still absent.

He's right behind the door when you push it open, stumbling back in pleasant surprise, a flushed grin on his face. "There you are, my sweet," he mutters, taking your hand and drawing you close to him. "I heard your footsteps in the hall...."

You grin, falling against him with a sigh and kicking the door shut behind you. "Did you now? And you were so sure it was me?"

You slot your fingers with his and squeeze, gazing lovingly up at him.

"I would know your footsteps anywhere." He pulls you flush against his chest, arms wrapping you in a tight embrace. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, relishing in the scent of your hair, your skin, the day's exertion still clinging to you in a damp, cloying sweat.

He mumbles against you, words ushered against your skin, "I missed you."

"I've missed you too, my king." Finally, wrapped in his arms, everything is right with the world. "And how was your day? Meetings went well?"

Aegon is already half undressed, his tunic laying loosely over his unlaced trousers; you take the opportunity to slip a hand underneath his top and trail your nails lightly over his back.

His eyes slip closed in obvious pleasure at the feeling of your fingers on his spine and he shivers under your touch, a soft moan escaping him. It takes him a moment to respond.

"Mmm, my day was long and tiresome. I spent the entire day in the small council chamber, then moved along to the throne room to listen to petitions and resolve asinine disputes. I couldn't wait to come back here to you.... to have you in my arms, finally." His lips are seeking your neck again, his favorite place, laying soft kisses along the skin there.

"I'm sorry, love," you sigh contentedly. "You know I feel much the same - all this droll highborn talk puts me to sleep, it always has."

You roll your eyes, intensifying the scrape of your nails over Aegon's back. "But at least there was tea."

A full body shudder rolls through him this time, back arching under your hand as he groans and grabs wantonly for your hips.

"Tea?" He murmurs, lips brushing your ear. "You and your damned tea. Sometimes I think you might love your tea even more than you love me...."

"Oh, how could I?" You gasp, aghast, as you pull back to look at Aegon. Both hands now planted on his shoulders, you give your husband a studying look. "I love nothing more than you, my king."

A gentle hand comes to stroke at his soft cheek, thumb brushing back and forth beneath the dark circle ringing his eye. "You look exhausted, Aegon. Shall we to bed?"

Aegon leans into your touch, closing his eyes again only briefly, savoring the feel of your sweet touch against his skin. He draws a deep, steadying breath before meeting your gaze with a weary smile.

"You're right," he concedes, hushed, "I am exhausted.... but I don't think I could sleep just now.... "

The timber of his voice dips lower, and his bright blue eyes darken as he takes hold of your waist again. "Do you know what's been on my mind all day?"

You press against him, loving when he gets like this. So desperate and needy and all for you, secreted away from everyone who have had him all to themselves all day. Now meant only for your eyes.

"I'm sure I could guess, but.... Why don't you tell me?" Taking his hand, you lead him slowly toward the big bed in the middle of the room.

Aegon follows your lead, willingly, letting you guide him to bed. His gaze devours your figure, watching the way your hips sway with each step. Such nice, child-bearing hips, he thinks. He can't help but admire the way your silken gown clings to you as you move.

As you reach the bed, Aegon is there behind you, arms around your waist, holding you back against him. "All day, I've been thinking about holding you just like this," he murmurs, his lips at your ear. "Your body pressed to mine.... the sound of your labored breathing as I make you mine.... as I breed you...."

With your back pressed to his chest, you can feel him through his trousers - already deliciously hard for you. His hands prowl over your body atop your gown, and you turn in his embrace to start plucking at the already half unlaced top of his tunic. "Aegon.... I need that. I need you. Please."

His breath hitches. The desperate tone in your voice, the way your body responds instantly to his touch.... it makes his head spin.

"I know," he growls, his hands never relinquishing their hold on your hips as he kisses your neck. "You don't know how much I've wanted you, darling.... how hard I've been all day." He grinds himself into you, his erection straining at his trousers.

Wanting to see more of him, to have more of him bared against you, you urge him to raise his arms, ripping his top off over his head.

Your small hands travel his chest, brushing his pretty pink nipples, palming at his belly. "I think I have something of an idea. Because I've been wet all day at the thought of retiring here, to do this very thing."

His eyes flutter shut and he whimpers wantonly at the feeling of your hands on his body. No one had ever touched him this way before you.... He is completely at your mercy, putty in your hands to do with as you wish.

"Is that so?" He gasps, voice trembling, abdomen tensing under your touch. "Did you spend the whole day thinking about this.... thinking about me?"

He sounds surprised.

You tilt your head. "Of course, my sweet. I spend every day thinking of you. When I'm taking tea or practicing my Valyrian, you're always in the back of my mind. And I do mean always."

While he's preoccupied with this thought, you let your hands stray to his trousers, undoing those the rest of the way as well.

You slip your hands past the waistband and he gasps, his body shivering against yours.

"And what thoughts do you have of me, my darling?" He murmurs huskily, the timbre of his voice dropping an octave. "Tell me. I must hear them."

Aegon is already half mad with desire, with the way your body fits so easily against his.

With one of your hands seeking his hardness, the other brushes a lock of fine hair lovingly away from his face. "I think of your lips, the sweet kisses they give. I think of your hands, and what pleasure they bring me. Of your tongue...." Here, your fingers brush over his plump lips. "But mostly I think of your cock, and how one day soon it will give us an heir...."

Upon saying this, you grab it, and start to stroke slowly.

Aegon groans aloud, a guttural sound of need and desire that reverberates through his chest. He buries his face again in the crook of your neck, laboured breathing hot against your skin.

"Oh gods, yes...." He gasps, hips jerking reflexively into your hand. "Keep talking.... don't stop.... I know.... I know I'm not worthy, of any of this. But gods, when you say I am I actually fucking believe you...."

You welcome him against you with your hand cupped behind his neck, holding him close as you continue to stroke him inside his trousers. You soothe his little shakes and trembles with a kiss to his shoulder as you mutter softly, "Think of how many times you've given me your seed in just the past week. How many times more you're going to in the coming years. You're going to give us such a big, beautiful family. I love you, Aegon...."

You know your king likes hearing this, and that his favorite thing in this world is finishing inside of you. As such, your words have the desired effect - Aegon is now throbbing against the palm of your hand.

Close to your ear, his breath stutters. His body follows shortly after with a tremor, and he clings onto you, fingers grappling at the back of your gown. Your words, your touch, your presence - it's all he needs. And he's completely at your mercy, a mess of desperate desire and need.

"I'm yours.... I'm all yours...." He sobs into your neck. "You're the only one who makes me feel like this. The only one who makes me feel even remotely alive."

His hips buck his cock into your hand, the friction driving him mad. "Please don't stop.... I need you."

"Shh, Aegon...." You soothe him further, more kisses pressed to his warm skin. And though he's asked you not to stop, you do, only temporarily.

Doing your best to ignore his whimpers at the loss of your hand, you turn and offer your back to him. "Undo my dress, my love. Or shall I call my handmaids in to assist instead?"

Behind you, Aegon stumbles forward. "No," he growls. "No, I'll do it."

You know he hates the thought of anyone else seeing you in any state of undress, which is why you'd said it in the first place.

His hands are clumsy and shaking, but he manages to undo the buttons of your dress, revealing more and more of your skin. Every inch he exposes is like a revelation, a small taste of what's to come.

He pushes the dress from your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a pool of fabric at your feet.

Clad now in only the sheer, white shift worn under your gown, you step out of the folds of your dress heaped on the floor and back toward the bed. You offer a hand to Aegon. "Come, my king. Join me. Or haven't you been thinking about this all day?"

His eyes rake over you, the thin material of your shift leaving little to the imagination. Aegon swallows hard, his throat suddenly very dry.

"Gods, yes," he rasps, taking your hand and letting you lead him to the bed. "It's been maddening to be apart from you all day. To think of you, only a few corridors away, while I was trapped in ridiculous meetings and listening to petitioners...."

"Petitions are important," you sigh, sinking back against the veritable mountain of pillows adorning the head of the bed. "Meetings less so, I'm sure. But.... nothing more important than doing your husbandly duty to your wife."

You laugh softly, spreading your legs as your shift rides up around your thighs, letting Aegon settle between. "My dear Aegon.... you know you do deserve this, don't you? All of this.... all of me?"

He admires your splayed legs, gaze dark and intense. Then he reaches out, letting his hands travel over the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

"I think you give me far too much credit, my love," he begins, pausing to press a gentle kiss to your leg, lips skimming over your sensitive skin. He moons adoringly up at you, raw desire written plain over his face. "But when you say it.... I almost believe you."

It's so hot these days, you typically decide to forego any smallclothes under your shift. Tonight, you're especially glad for that - Aegon's mouth is dangerously near your thighs. No doubt he can see your sex glistening beneath the shadow of gauzy material stretched between your legs.

"It's true, my king. All the love you have for me.... I want to return it tenfold."

With that, you start to pull the shift up further, so that slowly, your bare lower half is made plain to Aegon in the dim light of the bedchamber.

His mouth goes dry at the sight of you, bare and exposed to him. His breathing quickens, and he takes you in like a man thirsting for water.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. His hands twitch with restrained need, aching to touch you, to feel you. "If I could, I would spend the rest of my life worshiping this body, and never go even a second without stopping.... "

The shift slips up even further, over your breasts and off, as you shake your hair loose. "You look like a man who wants a taste, Aegon.... Why don't you indulge?"

You encourage him with a hand at his shoulder, pulling him down.

He can't resist you, not that he'd ever dream of trying. He leans in, hands grasping your thighs, gentle kisses laid in their wake, his lips a mere preview of what's to come.

"You're so wicked," he murmurs, his breath coming in scorching pants against your thighs. "Always so eager to drive me to such desperation...."

Painstakingly slow, he inches higher, his lovely mouth trailing up toward the center of your heat, lips pressing soft kisses over the sensitive flesh.

You hook a leg over his shoulder, keeping him close with that hand now in his hair.

"You were already hard when I was still wearing my gown," you giggle, pressing your thumb to the corner of his plush lips. "Don't act like you need any tempting.... "

"Gods, not when it comes to you," he mutters, his lips now hovering just above the most intimate part of you, the anticipation driving both of you mad. "You're like a drug, my love - so very addicting. Once I have a taste, I can't get enough...."

His tongue darts out, tasting you delicately, barely enough to even feel, and he positively howls. "You taste so sweet.... my favorite meal."

The second lap of Aegon's tongue over you is also gentle, almost innocent. "Please, Aegon.... I need you."

You press that thumb harder, parting his lips and making him suck on your thumb.

He takes it eagerly, tongue swirling around it, long lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he tastes you.

"You know I can never resist you, my love," he mutters around your finger. "I'll give you whatever you want, whenever you want it."

He kisses your thigh, your hip, your stomach, working his way back to the place he wants to be most.

Once he's released it, you smooth your wet thumb over his cheek, leaving a streak of spit. Then leaning back, you grin. "I think you know what I want."

He smirks up at you, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"You know I do," he murmurs, tongue delving between your slick folds. He grunts against you, the taste of you sending his mind spinning. "Heavenly.... I could spend all night right here, just like this."

Your thighs tremble beside his ears, and Aegon pets his hands soothingly over them.

"A-Aegon, gods.... your tongue always feels so good. It's not too late, we can keep at this for a while before we have to sleep, don't you think?"

His words are muffled, but the meaning clear; "I have no intention of stopping any time soon, my queen.... I plan on having you scream my name before the night is through."

Aegon's tongue swirls in lazy circles against your clit, hands gripping your trembling thighs to anchor you to him.

Aegon loves to tease, you know this. And yet, it still takes you by surprise and leaves you breathless how slow and lethargic those sweeps of his tongue really are.

"Aegon," you moan loudly, head thrashing, fingers plucking at your stiff nipples. "Aegon, I love you...."

"I love you," he says, pausing to flick his tongue against your clit, teasing it relentlessly. "Gods... I love you so much... so much... "

His mind is hazy with desire, lost in the taste and scent of you, the feel of your body under his touch. He can't get enough of you, craving more and more until he's completely satisfied, which he knows will take hours at the very least.

Aegon is gazing up at you with a mix of desperate desire and heartfelt love. The fire blazing in his bright blue eyes is intoxicating, drawing you in.

"I know.... I know you said you want to do this all night, but.... don't you want to put a baby inside of me instead?"

His breath stutters, eyes flashing with heat at your words. He presses another kiss to your hip, his hands roaming over your skin.

"A baby...." he muses, the thought sending a thrill through him. "You'd give me an heir, my love? Our child.... growing inside you...."

"Of course," you chuckle, carding a hand through his hair. "Isn't that what we've been trying for every night - and some afternoons - this past week....?"

He chokes on a laugh, his hands moving to rest on your stomach. "Every night and afternoon.... and some mornings." He looks up at you with a cheeky smile. "I've been a very.... thorough husband, haven't I?"

You nod, grinning down at your handsome husband. "Some might say too thorough. We've both been neglecting our royal duties, somewhat, to try and conceive. Tonight could be the night...."

He chuckles, hands moving over you, palming gently. "And if not tonight.... then we try again and again and again. Until we're successful."

He trails kisses over your stomach, his mouth wandering over the soft skin. "I'm not going to stop until I get you pregnant, love."

"We should start now, then...." Your cunt is dripping onto the bedclothes, all Aegon would need do is take those confounded trousers off and slide right in.... "Get me pregnant, my king. Give us an heir."

Aegon needs no more prompting; he kneels up just long enough to kick his pants off the end of the bed, then crawls over you.

"As you wish, my dear." His body presses close against yours, the heat between you searing hot. He bends to press a kiss to your neck, hands gently caressing your body. "You'll give me heirs and spares?"

You brace yourself with your hands on his arms, running over his heated flesh. "We'll have so many princes and princesses running around, we won't know what to do with ourselves," you reply quietly.

Aegon's cock is red and leaking, bobbing between his legs. "I want it," you mutter, staring hungrily down at it.

"That's the plan," he mutters, eyes darkening as he follows your gaze down between his legs.

"You're just as wicked as I am, aren't you?" His voice is strained with need. "I want to tease you more.... make you beg and squirm.... but you're making it so hard for me to hold back now."

You swipe a hand between your own legs, gathering slick from your folds to bring to Aegon's length, easing the way as you stroke him.

"Am I making it hard? Am I making it so hard, my king?"

Your touch sends a jolt of pleasure through him, a grating cry falling from his lips. He nods desperately, his hips bucking into your hand.

"So... gods, so hard... you're going to drive me mad, woman," he groans, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "If you keep this up, I'm going to lose all control..."

"Lose it, then. Fuck me, Aegon. Fuck me so hard the entire keep can hear me scream your name." You're trying to pull him forward by his cock, but the slippery grip of your fingers is making it hard.

Aegon growls, grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him roughly. His cock slips from your grasp, pressing against your entrance as he stares into your eyes.

"Is that what you want, my love?" he croaks, voice breaking with longing. "Do you want me to take you like a savage…. make you mine completely…. until there's nothing left of us but the echoes of our screams along these stone walls?"

He doesn't wait for your answer, pushing into you in one swift motion. You're tight, so godsdamn tight, and it's all Aegon can do to keep himself from losing control entirely. He begins to move, slowly at first, relishing the sensation of your body gripping him selfishly.

Gods, he makes you feel like some lowborn whore when he talks like that, and you love it. "T-Take me, Aegon," you stutter, a moment too late. He's already inside, moving, pushing past that tight ring of muscle that is always so hells bent on keeping him out.

One hand comes down to rub hard at that little button, the one that sends such shocks of pleasure through you. The other braces itself on Aegon's hip, where you can feel his muscles moving beautifully beneath the skin, driving him on.

Aegon growls, feeling your body react to his touch. Your tight walls pulse around him with each stroke, driving him ever closer to completion.

"By the gods, you feel so good," he pants, his fingers digging into your hips as he quickens his pace. "So fucking perfect…. just for me…."

He can feel himself getting close, a fire building inside him that he knows will consume him entirely. But he can't stop now, not when you're writhing beneath him, begging for more. He moves harder, deeper, angling his hips just so to hit that sweet spot inside you.

You find yourself digging your heels into the mattress, helping him to change that angle to the one that makes you see stars.

You truly are screaming his name now, your voice echoing off the walls. Surely those in neighboring chambers have no trouble hearing you now.

"That's it," Aegon grunts, his hold on your hips bruising. "Let them hear you, love. Let them all hear their king getting their queen pregnant."

Your body tenses, pleasure building inside you to a fever pitch. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, ready to topple over into ecstasy at any moment.

"Gods, Aegon!" You cry out, gripping the sheets beneath you as he pounds into you with abandon.

"Yes, yes…. let them hear it…. let them know you're mine…."

And then it's there, that rush that consumes you entirely. You shatter around him, every muscle in your body clenching as you scream his name. It's enough to push him over the edge too, and he follows you with a hoarse cry, spilling into your depths.

Your entire body feels overheated, the candles on the bedside tables guttering as you cry out with abandon. There's a soft layer of sweat over your entire body as you lie panting underneath your husband.

His cock is still spasming and twitching inside of you. You have just enough energy to wrap your trembling arms around his shoulders and pull him in for a kiss. "Do you feel that, my king? Do you feel your queen's cunt milking all of your strong seed out? It's going to take this time, I just know it."

Aegon whines, his body shuddering with the aftershocks of his release. He collapses onto you, panting and sweaty as he pulls you into his arms.

"Gods, yes," he gasps, his voice ragged with pleasure. "I can feel it…. you're so tight…. so perfect…. I've filled you completely…. you're pregnant with my child…"

He says this like the saying makes it so, and you love him for it.

He nuzzles your neck, kissing you feverishly as he continues to thrust weakly into you. The thought of making you carry his child ignites a fire in him that refuses to be quenched.

The feeling of Aegon still trying to fuck his softening cock into you warms your heart. Your king wants so badly to always be inside of you….

Letting him rest his fair head on your chest, you take a steadying breath. "Aegon …"

He looks up at you, eyes softening as he takes you in. "Yes, my love?" He asks, still panting heavily.

You run a gentle hand through his hair, feeling the damp strands sticking to your fingers. "Do you really believe that I'm pregnant with your child now?"

Aegon nods firmly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "Of course I do. My seed has filled you completely, my queen. And soon enough, our child will be growing inside you…. a true heir to the Targaryen name."

He pauses, taking a moment to adore you. "And when that day comes, my love, we'll be unstoppable. Together, we'll conquer all of Westeros and make the world bow to our will."

[ja3yun]

touch me and see | l.hs

boyfriend!heeseung x girlfriend!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), fingering, oral (f.rec), cum eating, overstimulation, they are tooth rottingly in love, but heeseung is commanding, not proof read, anything else lmk!

w.c: 4.6k

REQ: i can't, for the love of God, stop thinking about how heeseung will lose his damn mind if his girlfriend were to take his hand and slip it inside her panties while telling him how needy she is for him. Like. Please you have to write something about this. 🤲

a/n: hi! this was probably not what you were wanting and i can only apologise. after reading and writing about dom men for the better part of a week i needed some fluff and romance! hope you like it <3 also, i'm working through requests so please be patient with me, i am trying my best 🙏🏻

Walking through the door, Heeseung places his shoes haphazardly at the entrance of your shared apartment, the clambering of them echoing in the tiny foyer. Typically, you are home by now, and the familiarity of this daily routine never fails to warm his heart. You have been dating for a few years, and nothing brings him more joy than coming home to you, even though he does it every day. The anticipation of seeing you, feeling your presence, and sharing the quiet moments together fills him with a sense of comfort and belonging that he cherishes deeply.

Heeseung's eyes scan the cosy living room, landing on you nestled on the couch, a book in hand. A soft smile spreads across his face, his heart swelling with love and contentment. He quietly walks over to you, his footsteps almost silent on the carpet, not wanting to disrupt your peaceful moment but eager to be close to you. As he reaches you, he gently wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you into a warm, tender embrace.

You feel the familiar weight and warmth of his arms around you, and your heart skips a beat. The scent of his cologne, mingled with the faint trace of his day, envelops you, grounding you in the moment. Heeseung leans down, his lips brushing against the nape of your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses along your skin. Each kiss sends a shiver down your spine, a sweet reminder of the love and passion that has grown and never dimmed between you over the years.

"Hi, baby. I missed you," he murmurs against your neck, his voice low and filled with emotion. His arms tighten around you slightly, as if he's afraid to let go. The sincerity in his words touches you deeply, and you can feel the depth of his affection and the genuine happiness he feels being with you.

Turning slightly in his embrace, you tilt your head to look up at him, meeting his warm, adoring gaze. You reach up, gently cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing softly against his skin. "I missed you too," you whisper, your voice carrying the same depth of emotion. It’s a bit over the top for most people, to be so in love with one another that you miss each other even only for approximately 12 hours, but it suits you both just fine.

Heeseung leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, pouring all his love and devotion into the simple yet profound gesture. The kiss is soft, slow, and filled with the unspoken promise of many more years of shared moments and unending love. As you pull away, he places one final kiss on the top of your head before circling the couch and sitting next to you. 

You wedge your bookmark between the pages and place the book on your lap, giving your full attention to your boyfriend. “How was your day?”

Sighing, he rubs his forehead hard enough to leave a faint red mark. “Stressful, I had to basically run after everyone’s mistakes and then somehow I got the blame.” 

Being an office worker is either the easiest job in the world or the hardest. Most days, it’s fucking dreadful since the company decided to hire people who either know nothing at all and mess up the accounts, or people who think they know it all and still mess up the accounts. When he started, he loved his job, it was a nice and simple 9-5 with little stress, even so much so that he could often call you at random points in the day just to see how you were doing. 

But now companies have merged, new staff are useless, his boss is on holiday for 2 months to go back home to Australia, life is just miserable in the office. 

Seeing his frustration, you scoot a bit closer, taking his hand in yours and kissing the back of it, the way you always do in situations like this. He doesn’t need you to come up with solutions or tell him lies like everything will be okay. The subtle gesture of your lips on his skin and your thumb running across his knuckles is enough to ease the discomfort in his bones.

“You should take a vacation once Jaeyun is back, we can go and do something fun,” you suggest, knowing that without Heeseung and his boss, the company would go up in flames. 

Pouting softly, he shakes his head, “I only have 2 days of annual leave left and I’m using it for your birthday.”

“But you’ve been working all these extra hours, days even. Surely you can get some back and we can go on a city trip somewhere?” you insist, your eyes filled with a hopeful sparkle.

Leaning in, Heeseung kisses your lips tenderly, sharing his gratefulness and love for your concern for him. Never in his life did he imagine someone would care this much about him, especially because he knows you will drop all your studying to make sure you can go on this hypothetical trip. The kiss is gentle yet deep, conveying all the emotions he struggles to put into words. When he pulls back, his eyes linger on your face, taking in the worry and affection that mirrors his own feelings.

Heeseung squeezes your hand and sits back to his original position on the couch. “Nah, that’s including me taking time back. You know how stingy the company is with time off.” He smiles, trying to reassure you, though he feels a pang of guilt for the tiny white lie. The real reason he’s been working every extra shift and covering for others is something he can’t share just yet - it would spoil the surprise he’s been meticulously planning for over a year.

You concede, knowing how hard-working Heeseung is and that pushing the matter might end up in one of you sleeping on the couch you’re currently sitting on. If there is one thing he could argue to the death about, it’s about how he can handle work and everything in between quite fine on his own.

“Alright, but promise me you’ll take it easy. I don’t want you to be exhausted when you come home or on the days off you have.”

“I promise,” Heeseung replies, pulling you closer. He runs his fingers through your hair, his touch soothing and familiar. “For you.”

Rolling your eyes, you whack his hand away playfully before joining it with yours once again. “No, for you, not for me. You need to look after yourself because you want to.” He has a bad habit of neglecting himself and only listening to you and never his body; it’s a curse to the admirable hard-working part of him.

Heeseung chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looks at you fondly. “Okay, okay. I’ll take care of myself because I want to,” he says, though he knows that your happiness will always be his first priority. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “So, how was your day?”

You settle against the couch, leaning your head on your free hand as you place your arm on the back cushion, a contented sigh escaping your lips. “It was good. I studied most of the morning, trying to get ahead on my assignments. Then, I just spent some time reading. It was nice to relax a bit.”

Heeseung smiles, his heart warming at the thought of you finding some time for yourself amidst your busy schedule. “What are you reading?” he asks, spotting the book on your lap and tilting his head in curiosity.

Your eyes widen in embarrassment as you realise the cover of the book is clearly visible. It's a smutty romance novel, the kind with a particularly steamy cover illustration that leaves little to the imagination; your typical brute man in black and white, the kind you see middle-aged mums reading poolside on their Tenerife holiday. Quickly, you try to hide it, but it’s too late. Heeseung’s gaze follows your movements, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Oh, this looks…interesting,” he teases, reaching out to gently take the book from your hands. “A little light reading, huh?”

Your cheeks flush a deep shade of red, and you cover your face with your hands, groaning. “It’s not what you think,” you mumble from behind your hands, though you both know it’s exactly what he thinks. You curse horny authors for not picking more subtle covers.

Heeseung laughs warmly and shakes his head, dismissing your embarrassment, “Everyone has a hobby,” he reassures you. The thing about your boyfriend is that he will never make you feel shame for anything you do, even if it is the most cringy, despicable act like that one time you tried to whistle note like Ariana Grande at karaoke - he will only encourage you. It’s one of the many, many reasons you fell in love with him. 

Flicking through some of the pages, his eyes land on probably the most graphic and detailed sex scene he has ever read, granted, he might have only ever read one in his life and Fifty Shades of Grey for half an hour while waiting for a doctor's appointment might not be very adventurous on his part. 

He looks at you and pouts, waving the book about in the air. “Is this what I have to compete with? Whips and feathers?” He feigns being disappointed, hiding the lingering smirk that is currently fighting its way onto his face.

You shake your head ferociously, eyes wide and mouth open. “No, no, no. I like you just the way you are, trust me,” you plead with him. He loves it when you play along with him in his upset skit, usually because you end up complimenting him way more than normal, which is like music to his ears.

Sucking in a breath, he juts his bottom lip as he looks at the book once again, his hand easily gripping its edges. The book looks so small when he holds it, like it’s part of the mini-brand series. His long fingers, slightly calloused from work, wrap around the cover with a casual strength that makes your pulse quicken.

Heeseung notices the way your eyes fixate on his hands, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You sure? I mean, these guys in the book seem pretty...intense,” he teases, his tone light but his eyes darkening with a flicker of lust.

Your breath catches as you watch his fingers trace the spine of the book absentmindedly. The sight of his hands - so strong, so capable - starts to stir a familiar heat within you. You bite your lip, trying to focus on his words, but your mind keeps wandering to thoughts of those hands on you, exploring, caressing.

“Heeseung,” you murmur, your voice a little shaky, “you don’t need any of that stuff. You’re perfect just the way you are.” Your words are sincere, but you can’t help the flush that creeps up your neck as your thoughts continue to race.

Heeseung catches the change in your tone, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. He sets the book aside, his full attention now on you. “Oh?” he says, his voice dropping an octave as he leans in closer, his hand coming up to gently cup your chin. “Perfect, huh?”

Taking hold of his hand, you nod quickly, suddenly dipping his hand into the waistband of your lounge shorts and past your underwear, to let him feel just exactly what he does to you, how you’re only needy for him and no one else. Sometimes, you even imagine that it’s him in the books, replacing the CEO and Cowboy faces with your boyfriend’s.

Heeseung’s eyes darken, his breath catching as he feels the evidence of your desire for him. His gaze locks onto yours, a predatory smirk forming on his lips. “Is this how you feel when you think about me? This isn’t because of that guy in the book?” he murmurs, his voice husky and thick with desire. His fingers move deliberately, exploring your softness with a slow, teasing touch.

"It's all you," you whisper, breath leaving your lungs thanks to his fingers, "I get wet thinking about you, especially when you aren't here."

His smirk deepens, and his fingers start to move with more purpose, sliding through your slick folds and finding your sensitive bud with expert precision. “Really?” he murmurs, his voice a dangerous mix of lust and amusement. “Baby, I must have kept you waiting a really long time today then, hmm?” His tone is mocking, clearly enjoying how desperate you’ve become.

The heat from his fingers and his teasing words send shivers down your spine, and you’re so consumed by lust that you haven’t even realised that he’s stopped moving his fingers. Instead, your hips are thrusting desperately against his hand, seeking release as you grind against his touch.

Heeseung’s eyes gleam with desire as he watches you. The sight of you, so lost in need and writhing for him, drives him wild. He loves seeing you like this, your body reacting instinctively to his touch, your pleasure so palpable that it’s almost overwhelming.

“You really are a mess,” he growls, his voice a blend of admiration and raw dominance. “Look at you, so needy and desperate. Does it feel that good, baby?” His words are both teasing and tender, a testament to how well he knows you and what makes you tick. Heeseung’s ability to seamlessly blend tenderness with dominance is one of the many things that make him irresistible to you.

In these moments, he becomes something more than just your boyfriend; he’s a reflection of the deep, unwavering love and respect he has for you. The way he takes charge, guiding you with a gentle but commanding hand, shows just how deeply he cares. He’s not just fulfilling your desires; he’s elevating them, giving you a glimpse of the infinite affection and lust he holds for you.

Heeseung is the epitome of devotion, the kind of man who can turn a simple touch into an expression of endless love. His respect for you is limitless, but when you become this vulnerable and needy, he flips a switch fueled by desire. It’s a delicate balance he maintains effortlessly; he can love you softly and tenderly or take you with a fierce intensity, always attuned to what you need and want.

You moan in response, your words tangled in the throes of overwhelming pleasure. All you can do is wriggle and gasp, your movements growing more frantic as you chase the release that feels just out of reach. “Heeseung...please,” you manage to whimper, your voice breaking with the raw intensity of your need.

Heeseung’s fingers don’t relent. Instead, they delve deeper into your panties, his middle finger now gently tapping at your entrance with teasing precision. His touch is maddeningly light, barely brushing against your sensitive opening, creating a maddening contrast to the desperate pleasure you’re craving. The sensation sends shivers through your body, making your hips buck instinctively towards his hand.

Heeseung’s eyes stare into your desperate ones. “Please what, baby?” he murmurs, his voice thick with both affection and a seductive edge. “Tell me exactly what you need. I want to hear it from you.”

The demand in his voice just adds to your frustration. You can feel the heat accumulating between your legs, and your body's response is becoming increasingly urgent. "I need you…" you declare, the words tumbling out between gasps. "I need you to make me cum."

“Is that what your little book boys do?” he teases, prodding at your sobbing entrance as you whine out, almost crying out in need.

“Shut up, I told you, you’re the only one I need.” you screw your eyes shut, agonisingly frustrated by his underlying jealousy, no matter if he is being serious or not. You need him to touch you and you want it now. 

Heeseung’s finger finally slips inside you, and you gasp as he fills you with a slow, deliberate push. The sensation is both intense and exhilarating, the warmth of his finger adding a layer of pleasure you’ve been yearning for. He starts to move with a slow, steady rhythm, his touch both tender and commanding as he finds your most sensitive spots.

“Like this?” he asks, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper as he curls his finger, seeking out the spot that makes you mewl. He continues to caress your clit with his thumb, adding to the overwhelming pleasure.

You can only moan in response, your head dropping on his shoulder as your body responds eagerly to his touch. Each movement, each stroke sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, pushing you closer to the edge.

Heeseung’s movements are torturously slow as he adds another digit, each thrust of his fingers inside you measured and deliberate. He curves them expertly, finding that sweet spot deep within you and pressing against it, making your whole body shudder with pleasure. His thumb never ceases its flicking motion on your clit, sending jolts of electricity coursing through you.

Gripping his arm for support, your chest heaves as he presses his fingers roughly to a very sensitive area inside your cunt, the spongy surface melding itself around your boyfriend’s fingers as he holds down on it. If your body were a map, Heeseung had studied and explored every part of it, memorising your X spots with ease. It’s the reason you’re already starting to see those stars behind your eyes.

Heeseung’s breath is hot against your neck, and you can feel his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “You’re so beautiful when you’re like this.” His voice is a tantalising blend of tenderness and authority, sending shivers down your spine.

He pulls your head to look at him, and you meet his gaze through flickering eyes, fighting the urge to succumb to your pleasure. "Look at me," he commands softly, his voice a low growl that makes your toes curl and shoulders straighten despite the difficulty of the request. His fingers start to move faster, pumping in and out of you with an unrelenting rhythm, your body arching towards him.

Your hands scramble for something to hold onto, one hand finding purchase on the couch cushion while the other grips at his shirt. Your knuckles turn white as you cling, trying to anchor yourself against the overwhelming sensations. Heeseung’s fingers work you mercilessly, the slick sound of your wetness mingling with your desperate moans and his heavy breathing.

Although you’re slipping into a cum-atose, your eyes never leave his, still abiding by his previous request. His face is smug as he strains, putting immense effort into finger fucking you, his arm working overtime as he rapidly rams his fingers in and out of you the way you like it. 

If there is one thing Heeseung is going to do, it’s please his girl. And by the look on your face and the jittering of your hips, he would say you’re sufficiently pleased.

Yet, he notices how you’re holding your breath and clenching your jaw. “Baby? What are you holding back for?” he asks, his voice softening with concern even as his fingers maintain their relentless pace.

“I... I can’t...” you manage to gasp out, the intensity of the pleasure making it hard to form words. Your body is trembling, teetering on the brink of release, but something is holding you back. Maybe it’s the idea of not having his fingers once you cum, knowing that they can’t live in you forever - sadly.

Heeseung's eyes darken with determination. “Let go,” he commands, his voice a deep growl. “I want to feel you cum all over my fingers.”

His words ignite a wildfire of desire within you, the coil inside you winding tighter with each passing second. Heeseung's thumb presses down harder on your clit, moving in swift, precise circles that send electric waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Breathe, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours with tenderness despite the relentless scissoring of his fingers. “Let it happen. Don’t hold back.”

With a strangled cry, you surrender, the tension in your body unravelling all at once. Your orgasm crashes over you with the force of a tsunami, your entire being convulsing as waves of ecstasy radiate from your core. Your grip on his shirt tightens, nails accidentally digging into his skin as you scream his name, your walls clenching around his fingers. “Heeseung, fuck!”

Heeseung watches you with a blend of satisfaction and awe, his fingers maintaining their relentless rhythm to prolong your orgasm. The pleasure borders on overwhelming, your hips bucking uncontrollably as you ride the intense ripple of euphoria.

"That's it, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the intensity of his movements. He peppers kisses all over your face and neck, constantly reminding you of reality as your brain gets lost in your high. When Heeseung makes you cum, it’s like you go into your own version of subspace, not quite out of it to the point of unconsciousness but just out of it enough to forget your surroundings.

When he’s fucking you, it’s a lot worse.

As your body starts to relax, the tremors subsiding, Heeseung gently withdraws his fingers, making sure not to cause any discomfort. He brings his glistening fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied hum, his eyes never leaving your shaking form. The taste of you is his absolute favourite thing and this sample isn’t enough for him, not when you have a whole pool of it between your legs.

"You did so well for me," he whispers, his voice filled with warmth and pride. He places a tender kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering as if to imprint his affection into your skin.

Gently, Heeseung manoeuvres you, his strong arms effortlessly guiding you to lie back on the couch. His movements are careful, almost reverent, as he shifts your weight, ensuring you’re comfortable. You feel the cool leather against your back, a stark contrast to the heat still radiating from your body.

Heeseung’s hands move to your shorts. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says softly, his voice a soothing murmur. His eyes are filled with a loving tenderness as he slowly slides your shorts down your legs, the fabric gliding over your skin.

He places your shorts aside, his gaze returning to your exposed form with a mixture of adoration and desire. Heeseung leans in, his lips brushing against your inner thigh in a series of feather-light kisses that send shivers down your spine. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against your skin, his breath warm and tantalising.

Heeseung's breath hitches slightly, his eyes darkening with an intense mix of lust and adoration as he takes in the sight before him. "You’re fucking gorgeous, baby," he murmurs, his voice a low, reverent whisper for only you to hear. He trails the tips of his fingers over your thighs, tracing delicate patterns as he slowly lowers himself to the other side of the couch, his breath caressing your skin with each exhale.

He starts at your ankles, placing tender, lingering kisses along your calves, his lips soft and worshipful. His hands follow the path of his mouth, massaging and caressing, as if he’s committing every inch of you to memory. As he moves higher, his kisses become more deliberate, his mouth seeking out the sensitive spots that make you shiver and sigh.

Heeseung’s lips finally find the juncture of your thighs, his breath hot and heavy against your most intimate area. He pauses, looking up at you with a gaze so filled with adoration that it makes your heart flutter. "You’re so perfect," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. He places a gentle kiss just above your core, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

Heeseung's tongue darts out, teasing your folds with feather-light strokes, his touch tender and unhurried. "I love the way you taste," he continues, his eyes locked onto your face, filled with adoration. "I could do this forever."

“You do, somedays,” you manage to meek out, chest gasping out a laugh even though you’re head is still spinning.

His tongue laves over your entrance, collecting your essence with a deliberate, sensual grace as he cleans you up. Each movement is slow and careful, designed to draw out your pleasure and keep you on the edge of sensitivity. Heeseung hums in satisfaction, the vibrations sending delicious tremors through your core. "So sweet," he mutters, his voice muffled against your skin. "I can’t get enough of you."

Heeseung’s tongue delves deeper, exploring you with a gentle yet thorough intensity. His strokes are varied, alternating between languid licks and playful flicks, each one causing your breath to hitch and your body to arch involuntarily. 

Your boyfriend loves to eat pussy, more specifically your pussy. It’s like a drug to him, a fountain of pure delicious nectar that he needs to be devouring. It calms him down and riles him up all at once. If he’s having a bad day, sometimes he won’t even speak, just carry you to your bedroom and eat you out for hours. It doesn’t even have to be rushed or end with you crying out for him to stop, there are times he’ll simply lick to taste you while asking you about your day.

Men say they love giving head, but no one quite likes it as much as Heeseung does.

That’s why he will say he’s ‘cleaning you up’ when in actual fact, he’s just drinking you dry so he can cause another billow of your juices to flow straight onto his tongue.

Heeseung’s lips close around your clit, sucking gently while his tongue swirls in a rhythm that has your toes curling and your hands gripping the couch. The sensations are overwhelming, and your body is hypersensitive from your previous climax.

“Heeseung, it’s too much,” you whine out as your thighs threaten to crush his head with force as they suffocate his ears.

He can feel the tension building within you again, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he continues his loving assault. The pressure from your leg pillows mixed with the taste of fresh fluids beginning to flow into his mouth has his eyes rolling to the back of his head. 

Feeling for your hands, he interlocks yours with his as he begins to slurp you up with more vigour, the lewd noises roaming around your apartment like a song on the radio, the familiar tune bouncing off the walls as they increase with volume.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum again, baby,” you warn him, the information sending a thrill of excitement through his spine.

With a final, skilful circle of his tongue, you’re sent spiralling into another climax, your body convulsing with the intensity of it. Heeseung doesn’t stop, his mouth tenderly working you through the aftershocks, his tongue cleaning up every drop of your release with reverent devotion.

As your tremors finally subside, Heeseung pulls back, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Perfect," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. He leans over you, capturing your lips in a kiss that tastes of you, sealing the moment with a promise of love and devotion. "You’re everything to me," he whispers against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. "Absolutely everything."

He wraps your legs in a nearby blanket, tucking you in with care as your spent body finds comfort on the couch. Heeseung’s hands linger on your skin, his touch a comforting presence. “How do you feel?” he asks, his voice a soft caress, filled with genuine concern and love.

“Perfect,” you reply, your voice a contented sigh. You reach out, cupping his face in your hand, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “You make me feel perfect.”

Heeseung leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savouring the moment. He then presses a kiss to your palm, his lips warm and soft. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. “And all your kinky books with men who could never compare to me.”

Tuting, you push his face away playfully, smiling so wide that it splits your face in half. “Shut up, oh my god,” you reply, your giggles high-pitched despite your exhaustion. “I love you, too.”

_____

perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull @yawnazzz @st1llm0nster @woorcve

[hopesworlld]

౨ৎ only you, my girl, only you, babe

౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — jealous!anakin x fem!reader

౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — you can't leave anakin, you just can't, he won't survive it

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 1k

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, jealous!ani, arguing, crying, using sex as a means to make up, smut ( dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, mentions of oral f receiving ) think that’s all !

౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — he's so whiny, i want him

part two part three masterlist

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"baby, please, just tell me what you were doing talking to him," anakin pleaded, his face tight with tension as he followed you though your shared apartment.

"ani, he's my friend i've known him since uni," you groaned, entering your bedroom, "we literally lived together for three years why are you being like this?" you questioned, turning to face him with narrowed eyes, watching as anakin's face dropped, he pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses sliding down as he pouted at you.

“i saw how he looked at you, how he hugged you…” he said and you shook your head, frustration welling in your chest as you watched anakin’s hands twitch, lips trembling.

“oh my god, anakin, he literally just hugged me, we are good friends you are being ridiculous,” you told him, turning around and walking over to your wardrobe, pulling out some more comfortable clothes to wear around the house, you loved anakin with every fiber of your being, but you couldn’t help but feel trapped when he got like this, so possessive and needy, acting as though everyone in the world was against him.

“baby, you know i’m not mad at you,” anakin began but you span around, eyes hard and voice like ice as you spoke to him.

“you’re not?” you spat, “oh, you aren’t mad at me for absolutely nothing? well thank you, anakin, i really fucking appreciate it,” anakin’s eyes went glassy, sniffling wetly, gaze falling to his feet.

“baby, i’m sorry,” anakin whimpered, tears rolling down his golden cheeks, “please don’t be mad at me,” he begged but you simply ignored him, you felt bad, you always did when anakin cried, he was such a sensitive soul, so desperate for approval, for your love, he had never felt like enough, never felt that he deserved you and it made your heartache but you couldn't keep feeding into his jealousy.

you went about doing what you were doing, tugging your shirt off and replacing it with a soft t-shirt, an old one you had, had since you were a teenager belonging to your father, before tugging down your skirt and slipping on a pair of shorts, the motions were soothing to you as you listened to anakin cry, something to distract yourself.

“baby,” anakin whined, “don’t ignore me, please, please, talk to me,” he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, burning his wet face into your neck, “i love you, i love you so much, please don’t ignore me,” you sighed, relaxing slightly in his hold. “baby?” he whispered, planting butterfly kisses along the side of your neck, paying extra attention to your sweet spot just bellow your jaw.

“ani,” you said gently, “you can’t keep doing this,” you scolded lightly, heart clenching when anakin sniffled, clinging to you tighter, arms a secure weight around your hips.

“i know, baby, i’m so so sorry, i don’t wanna hurt you, please, just don’t leave me,” he begged and you could feel his cock hardening against your back as he began to grind on you, short little thrusts that brought a swell of heat into your stomach.

“ani,” you sighed, “i’m not gonna leave you, angel, you just need to stop getting so upset every time i talk to another guy, i only want you,” you told him and anakin melted.

“yea?” he asked you, beginning to grind against you harder, little gasps falling from his lips, “only me?” he whispered.

“yes, ani, you i promise,” you said, a small groan escaping you when anakin pressed himself harder against you, cock brushing against your clothed cunt, “fuck, ani,”

“am i making you feel good, baby? tell me, baby, do you like it?” he asked, rutting harder against you, exhaling harshly against the back of your neck, he was still whimpering, tears flooding down his cheeks as he pleaded with you.

“yes, so good, ani,” you promised him as he began to tug at your shorts with needy hands, pulling them down along with your panties exposing you cunt to the cold air, you shuddered but it wasn’t long before anakin was sinking his fingers into your sopping heat, opening you up for him. you hissed at the sensation, cocking your hips back against him.

“i’m the only one that can make you feel like this,” anakin said, “only me, promise me,” he begged, thrusting his fingers harsher, and you moaned at the stimulation tilting you head back to rest on anakin’s shoulder.

“i promise, angel, only you can make me feel this good,” you stammered out and anakin sobbed, you heard him shuffling behind you, pulling his cock free from his jeans, he hardly gave you a second to think before he was tugging his fingers from your pussy and replacing them with his cock, he didn’t give you time to adjust, thrusting into you harshly, groaning at the feeling of your cunt cleanching around his throbbing cock.

“baby, oh fuck, feel so good wrapped around me,” anakin told you, gently pressing at your back so that you were bent over, one hand secured around your waist holding you in place while the other was holding you down, you hissed at the new position, the angle allowing anakin to sink deeper into you, cock head brushing against your cervix.

“fuck, ani, just like that,” you praised and anakin’s hips jolted, “doing so good for me, just like that,” you said, eyes fluttering shut as anakin continued to fuck into you with needy whines, chasing his relief as well as yours, one of your hands fell to your clit, swirling your index finger around the bundle of nerves in a figure eight pattern, you knew anakin wouldn’t last long when he was worked up like this this and it would break him if you didn’t cum, last time that had happened he had eaten you out until you were sobbing, tears streaming down your cheeks and hips shaking with overstimulation.

“fuck, baby, so wet,” anakin said, “god, this pussy was made for me, we fit so good together,” anakin told you, “no one else could get your pussy this wet, make you feel so good,” his words were becoming mindless blabber as he drew closer to his orgasm, you could feel his cock twitching inside of you, “mine, all mine,” he said, and you nodded along, mind becoming fuzzy from pleasure.

“yours, ani, all your’s,” you promised, cunt cleanching as you drew closer, the sensation of anakin pumping deep inside if you and the stimulation on your clit enough to send you over the edge.

“yes, yes, fuck, never leave me, never ever, never,” anakin commanded though his voice was squeaky, high pitched as you felt his hips stutter, “i’m gonna cum,” he cried out.

“that’s it, come for me, ani, wanna feel you cum, angel, fill me up,” you told him breathily, thrusting you hips back to meet him and anakin was gone, his thrusts were erratic before he spilled into your pussy, filling you up with his seed. you moaned, the feeling of his hot cum flooding your insides enough to send you spiralling, a scream falling from your lips as you clenched around anakin’s cock, milking him of every last drop before going lax in his hold.

“i love you,” anakin whispered, “i love you so much,”

“i love you too, ani,” you replied, letting him tug you towards the bed, collapsing down together in a mess of limbs.

“don’t ever leave me, okay?” anakin said, and you nodded.

“never, i’m yours,” you promised.

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i kinda hate this but i wanted to write some whiny ani so hope you enjoyed !

tags: @johnbassplayercutie