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cartanacia · 25 days ago

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Some background on South Korean politics in light of the 12.3 self-coup attempt

At 10:23 PM on 12.3, President Yoon Suk-yeol (Yun Seokyeol) declared martial law. The Korean people and MPs immediately mobilized to stop it. Although a group of special forces stormed the Parliament building and tried to break up legislative activity, 190 MPs made it into the chamber and voted only two hours later to rescind martial law. Soon after that, Yoon agreed to end martial law and the military officially stood down.

This was a bizarre and shocking few hours for everyone in the country and the world, and how Yoon got to the point of making this absurd decision is an interesting story. To tell it, I'll try to explain 1) South Korea's history of military rule, 2) Yoon's prosecutorial and political career, 3) the main opposition Together Democratic Party, and 4) Yoon's presidency. And finally, 5) what the self-coup attempt means for South Korea and the world.

I'll try to be brief as I can, but I'm starting from the assumption that most people know very little about South Korean politics. So, it's a long post.

Military rule

After fascist Japan surrendered at the end of WW2, it handed over power in the occupied Korean peninsula to an indigenous government called the People's Republic of Korea. Unfortunately, the new government was brutally suppressed by the US military in the South and warped into unrecognizable form by the Soviet Union in the North. In the South, the Republic of Korea was established as a US-aligned anticommunist dictatorship. Everything in this summary is extremely simplified, but suffice it to say that the Republic of Korea, or South Korea, more or less remained an anticommunist military dictatorship until 1987.

(One of the less graphic pictures of the Bodo League massacre, where the South Korean police and military killed 200,000 civilians)

Military rule in South Korea was founded on protecting South Korean capitalists, many of which had accumulated their wealth under the Japanese occupation, from the dual threats of leftists in South Korea and North Korean attack. South Korea retained the vast majority of colonial police employed by the occupation government, whose main purpose had been to root out and destroy independence guerillas, and repurposed them to root out and destroy left-wing guerillas (many of which were the same people). This caused an extraordinary level of state violence in early South Korean history. The South Korean prosecution service was similarly used to find and imprison or kill the opposition. Due to their function as part of an authoritarian state, the prosecution service was given broad powers to both investigate and prosecute.

Especially after President Park Chung-hee (Bak Jeonghui) took power (by overthrowing another short-lived democratic government), the South Korean state's purpose became not only to protect capital, but also to direct its expansion. The South Korean state used its control over credit to make companies invest in sectors that it predicted would have great export potential. Once a company established itself in a sector, the state directed it to use the profit it got from exports to invest in another, more capital-intensive sector. Over decades, this strategy led to enormous economic growth for South Korea and a massive rise in living standards. It also caused a few companies in particular to become fantastically wealthy global megacorporations. These are the chaebols (jaebeol), which include Samsung, Hyundai, LG, and others.

By 1987, a series of massive democratic protests and uprisings finally ended the dictatorship. A free election was held, and a general named Noh Tae-woo (No Taeu) was elected president. In the new democratic era, the conservative movement was formed as an alliance of dictatorship figures like Noh, chaebols, small businesses, and white collar workers who wanted to continue the economic policies of the dictatorship. The democratization movement continued as various incarnations of the Democratic Party (South Korean political parties change names and split and merge constantly), made up of unions, civil society activists, and students. Leftists have continued to be a minor force in South Korean politics, but for the purposes of this post I'll mostly set them aside. The main groups we're concerned with are conservatives and democrats, organized into a constantly shifting mush of political parties.

Supreme Prosecutor of the Republic

Before he became president, Yoon Seok-yeol was the Supreme Prosecutor of the prosecution service. To understand the significance of this, we have to take a look at the prosecution service in the democratic era and the political environment that Yoon emerged into.

During the dictatorship, everyone hated the police. So after the dictatorship, South Korea thoroughly reformed and defanged the police. This was a genuine success of the democratization movement. The police were turned from a gang of brutal thugs into an organization that almost never uses guns and is known for getting yelled at and beaten up by random citizens. If you hit a South Korean cop, the cop might be punished for annoying you. (Though the situation is different for ethnic minorities and striking workers.)

On the other hand, the prosecution service was left mostly untouched. While it obviously was no longer used for open political repression, it largely retained its broad investigative powers and personnel.

To put it simply, the prosecution service is an authoritarian holdover inside a democracy. It justifies its powers by being a hammer against the most powerful members of society. In South Korea, it's common for politicians of all parties to have their houses raided or be put in prison. This happens regularly even to former presidents, and even to some of the wealthiest people in the world, the heads of the chaebols. These things are unthinkable in most Western democracies. Whether you think these powers are justified or not, they've led to the prosecution service having far more active influence over politics than prosecutors in most democracies. As far as the prosecutors were concerned, that made them the heroes of this story.

These things came to a head in 2016 with conservative President Park Geun-hye (Bak Geunhye). Due to a series of massive scandals, Park had become extremely unpopular, with her approval rating hovering at 30 percent. What put the nail in the coffin for Park was an investigation by a prosecutor named Yoon Seok-yeol. Yoon exposed bizarre corruption involving President Park, Samsung, and a cult that had been involved with her family since the presidency of her father, Park Chung-hee. This led to massive protests and Park Geun-hye's impeachment.

(2016 Candlelight Protests)

The president who succeeded Park, Moon Jae-in, promoted Yoon within the prosecution service. At his new position, Yoon prosecuted and imprisoned Park, as well as another conservative former president. At this point, he was becoming a major public figure, popular among democrats and hated among conservatives. So President Moon promoted Yoon again, this time to Supreme Prosecutor of the entire service.

And then, Yoon started investigating Moon's own justice minister. This led to a public dispute. Moon's government looked corrupt and hypocritical, and Yoon became more popular than ever. Soon, Yoon resigned his office and entered the conservative presidential primary.

Of course, conservatives welcomed Yoon's entry, and he won the primary and the presidency. But how did they go from hating him for destroying their president to fighting to get him elected? How did Yoon go from prosecuting a corrupt conservative to being one?

The reason for the switch from Park to Yoon lies in their political brands.

Park Geun-hye's brand was built on nostalgia for her authoritarian father. Many older South Koreans associate Park Chung-hee's regime with stability, rational economic management, and anticommunism. At the same time, even most conservative voters hate actual authoritarian behavior. All South Koreans have either lived under military dictatorship or have heard from their family what it was like, and almost nobody is eager to return. Once Park Geun-hye's corruption and inept attempts at election manipulation were revealed, she was finished.

This is why conservatives welcomed Yoon Suk-yeol into their party: they needed him to wash their hands of corruption. He was a rebirth of authoritarian discipline made acceptable by his prosecution of unpopular conservatives. His message was law and order: if we lock up the corrupt, criminals, and communists, the country can be saved from ruin. If we push workers harder (by increasing work hours), economic growth will continue. If we push women harder (by forcing a return to traditional gender roles), the birth rate will return to normal. And, of course, the chaebols should be deregulated and given tax cuts.

Together Democratic Party

Before we pick things back up with Yoon, his main opposition is worth a look. This is the Together Democratic Party, which along with other opposition parties blocked the declaration of martial law and is now pushing for Yoon's impeachment.

We can summarize the Democratic Party's traditional and typical outlook in the figure of President Moon Jae-in (Mun Jaein). This was Park Geun-hye's main rival and the president who promoted Yoon Seok-yeol. He can be considered something like the "Korean Barack Obama". He was liked by democrats and called a dangerous communist by conservatives, but he didn't do all that much in reality other than raising the minimum wage, reducing the workweek, and attempting diplomacy with North Korea. He is now generally liked because things felt normal, he handled the COVID-19 pandemic well, and he didn't make any earth-shattering mistakes. He's the only living president not to be imprisoned after leaving office.

For decades, the Democratic Party was this type of moderate reformist, center-right party. However, in just the past few years, the party has gone through a considerable transformation.

(A 2017 Democratic presidential primary debate, with Lee on the left and Moon on the right.)

The Democratic Party has now unquestionably become the party of a person named Lee Jae-myung (Yi Jaemyeong), who was elected party leader in 2022. He's been called the "Korean Bernie Sanders", and this label is at least somewhat accurate.

Like Bernie Sanders, Lee Jae-myung can be characterized as a radical social democrat. His policies could actually be characterized as more radical than Bernie Sanders'. As the governor of Gyeonggi Province, Lee introduced a youth basic income and experimented with universal basic income. As a national political figure, Lee pushes for what he calls his "Basic Society" policies. These include universal basic income, youth basic income, universal basic housing (by massively expanding public housing), expanding free healthcare coverage to nursing, free meals for seniors, and a four day workweek. In general, Lee criticizes means-tested welfare and advocates for universal programs that guarantee a baseline standard of living by right.

On the other hand, Lee could also be characterized as less radical than his policies would imply. A common criticism, which ironically comes from both conservatives and leftists, is that he doesn't often talk about how to pay for his policies. Conservatives see this as a sign of irresponsible populism and economic illiteracy, while leftists criticize him for not naming the enemy. Unlike Bernie Sanders, Lee doesn't rail against chaebols or inequality or push for taxes on the rich. He also tends to appeal to questionable technology like AI rather than collective action. So although Lee champions some genuinely radical policies, he certainly isn't a socialist.

Lee's public image is also quite different from someone like Bernie Sanders. Lee is generally seen as a figure of questionable morality due to a constant conveyor belt of personal scandals and corruption allegations. He has been accused of, among other things, abusing his staff, having his brother involuntarily committed, illegally sending money to North Korea using an underwear factory, and having connections to organized crime. Lee's personal legal controversies have been the greatest source of instability for him and the Democratic Party since he became its leader.

In fact, Lee was recently convicted of lying while campaigning in one of his trials in November. Due to now having a criminal conviction, he is technically barred from running for office again. However, the conviction could still be overturned on appeal and recent events have really thrown everything up in the air. And even if Lee himself can't run for office, his ideology has taken over the Democratic Party and it's likely that whoever succeeds him will share it.

So, Lee Jae-myung is the nemesis that Yoon Seok-yeol has been fighting for his whole presidency. A criminal versus a prosecutor. Universalism versus austerity. Relief versus discipline.

Yoon Suk-yeol's presidency

Finally, we return to President Yoon. Though even as a prosecutor he was a figure of questionable intelligence, as a politician he's revealed himself to be one of the most inept people in modern history.

Since the beginning of his term, Yoon has been unable to do nearly anything at all domestically. The Democratic Party already had a majority in Parliament at the beginning of his presidency, and so Yoon has been unable to enact literally any part of his legislative agenda. Instead, he was reduced to calling young people lazy, bemoaning the far too short workweek, and wishing he could cut welfare.

In April of 2024, parliamentary elections were held. Lee Jae-myung, Democratic party leader, used the primary process as an opportunity to purge the party of centrists. Despite the Democratic Party's parliamentary candidates being further left than they'd ever been, opposition parties expanded their hold over the Parliament and nearly won a supermajority. After their victory, Lee Jae-myung was reelected as party leader and Basic Society advocates were elected to every seat on the party's supreme council. The Democratic Party emerged more left-wing, more ideologically unified, and more powerful than it ever had been before.

Now that Lee's Basic Society ideology had consolidated its hold on the Democratic Party and the Parliament, the Parliament began trying to pass its agenda in earnest. The Parliament passed bills establishing an experimental UBI, preventing companies from suing workers for striking, and expanding labor protections to subcontractors, among others. Over and over, Yoon vetoed them. Yoon has vetoed 19 bills and pocket-vetoed 4 more, more than every other South Korean president combined.

Both Yoon and the Parliament accused each other of being obstructionists. The problem for Yoon was that the Parliament's policies were popular, while his policies were unpopular. As Yoon issued more and more vetoes, his approval rating only fell.

(A political cartoon by Bak Sunchan depicting Yoon as a lame duck saying "veto")

Without the ability to change domestic policy, Yoon put all of his energy into foreign policy. Due to their history and composition, conservatives want to maintain trading links with other developed countries and developing countries for the chaebols to export to, want to maintain anticommunist alliances with the US and Japan, and are hostile to North Korea. (Participation in this system is what led the South Korean military to commit atrocities in Vietnam.) Democrats are somewhat skeptical of both the US and Japan, and want reconciliation with North Korea. Yoon has been strengthening relations with the US and Japan, sending weapons to Ukraine, and taking a hard line against North Korea.

Although several of these efforts were unpopular, the most significant has probably been Yoon allowing Japan to list the Sado gold mine as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Before Yoon, South Korea had been blocking this because the site failed to mention the thousands of Korean slaves forced to work in the mine during WW2.

So, the two years of Yoon's presidency had so far consisted of Yoon obstructing popular reforms while failing to pass unpopular reforms and engaging in unpopular war crime denialism. He was generally regarded as impotent, laughable, and annoying. And at the same time, allegations of Yoon's own corruption grew louder and louder.

Yoon's wife is accused of taking bribes and meddling in the conservative primary. Yoon's friend, a Marine Corps officer, is accused of negligence that resulted in a young conscript's death. Yoon is accused of using his friends in the prosecution service to interfere with both investigations. As these scandals grew, the Parliament passed bills appointing special prosecutors independent from the prosecution service to investigate them. Many of Yoon's vetoes were of these special prosecutor bills.

Since the parliamentary elections in April, Yoon has been stuck in a vicious cycle. The Parliament passes popular legislation and Yoon vetoes it. Yoon's approval rating falls. The Parliament passes a bill to investigate Yoon and Yoon vetoes it. More information and leaks about Yoon's corruption come out. Yoon's approval rating falls, eventually to 18 percent. Afraid of the public pressure, more conservative MPs distance themselves from Yoon.

It seemed inevitable that eventually, enough conservative MPs would defect to override Yoon's veto and appoint a special prosecutor. A special prosecutor would find evidence of Yoon's corruption. The public would grow only angrier with Yoon. The only road left would be impeachment and imprisonment, just like Park Geun-hye. Yoon bashed his head against the wall, unable to find a way out.

Clearly, somewhere in this pile was the final straw. On 12.3 at 10:23 PM, Yoon Seok-yeol turned on the camera and vomited blood.

So, what does the coup mean?

The declaration of martial law was so bewildering because it felt like it came out of nowhere. But that's not strictly true; the Democratic Party had been warning that Yoon was plotting to declare martial law for months. Most people dismissed this as a conspiracy theory, including myself. It was simply too far-fetched and illogical to contemplate, until it happened.

But the real reason it felt like it came out of nowhere was because, at the same time, it did. Not even Yoon's most devoted supporters were thinking about martial law. Apparently, everyone from the leader of Yoon's party to the Ministry of Defense to his own prime minister was caught totally by surprise. He circulated no conspiracy theories in advance, and not a single news network attempted to justify his actions. He had no cult of personality and no party ready to fall unquestioningly behind him. In short, he acted essentially alone. As soon as people rose up in defiance, he had no choice but to back down.

It's a good sign for South Korean democracy that the people defeated the self-coup attempt so quickly and decisively. But compare the political environment with that of other countries. How normal has authoritarianism become? How many people openly wish for a dictator? How subservient are the cabinet officials and the news networks? How cultlike are the major parties and how acquiescent is the opposition? These conditions make a country much more vulnerable to a ruler with authoritarian instincts. And we should expect authoritarians to act in creative and unprecedented ways.

The self-coup is an explosion of the authoritarian tendencies that have been bubbling under the surface of the conservative movement since the end of military rule. It's a decisive discrediting of Yoon's prosecutorial brand, which had been conservatism's last hope to maintain the people's trust. Yoon's impeachment and imprisonment are all but guaranteed. And the general consensus among both democrats and conservatives now is that Yoon's blunder has killed conservatism in South Korea for at least the next decade.

In fact, the 12.3 declaration of martial law might really have been a successful self-coup. In that the conservatives have removed themselves from power. And the death of the right is a golden opportunity that Korean leftists must seize. If Lee Jae-myung's Democratic Party becomes politically dominant, it must be challenged from the left to properly name the enemy. If the Basic Society policies become normalized, the left should treat them as common sense and demand more. When people become disenchanted with the democrats, the left must be ready as their competitor and obvious alternative, not the right.

Could South Korea see a new era of competition between a socialist left that wants to finally do away with the chaebols, a social democratic center that merely wants UBI, and a nonexistent right?

Maybe. Probably not. But a new world of possibilities has opened up.

#south korea #yoon suk-yeol #politics #news #12.3 #martial law #lee jae-myung #park chung-hee #park geun-hye #korea #moon jae-in #democratic party #authoritarianism #coup #history

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mononijikayu · 2 months ago

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say so — nanami kento.

As you looked at him, you knew that he knew that. But he was only human. It wasn’t easy to not be swayed by human doubts and impulse. You never faulted him for that. If anything, it made you fall in love with him over and over again. Because your Kento was both sides of the coin of human life. And you embrace it, more than you could ever imagine. Love is just that way. You knew that to be true. You stepped closer, your hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders, grounding him. “Kento, I want you. Only you.” you said, your voice filled with the sincerity you hoped he could feel. “I want you more than anything. Because you’re my life. My oxygen. My everything.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Post-Shibuya Arc, R-18, Smut, Fingering, P to V Sex, Passionate Sex, Pet Names (My Love, Baby), Romance, Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Nanami, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Drama, Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Jealousy, Teasing, Fix-It, Humor, Domesticity, Family Life, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Idiots In Love, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Pining, Nanami Being A Great Husband, Nanami Kento is FATHER™️;

WORDS: 9.5k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: nanami won my poll again!!! hurray!!! here's tmi about this - thiis was half way finished when i came back to write it, but then i got sick again and i started writing this more differently than my direction. i got frustrated so i stopped for a while then i forgot about it and then i wanted to finish it.

oh, also kento and you speak danish at home, because you both feel like a secret language between you and him. gojo is also retired — thats going to be in us and them!!! thank you so much for waiting!!! thank you for reading too!!! i love you all !!! see you in the gojo fic (second place) <3

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next: little wonders

HE THOUGHT THAT HE WOULD ALWAYS BE NONCHALANT. Nanami Kento never thought he’d be the type to get jealous. After all, he prided himself on being calm and composed, grounded in logic.

But lately, things have changed. You had changed—or rather, something about you had. At least that’s what he noticed now that you’ve come back to Tokyo, so he could become a mentor to the kids with Gojo’s retirement.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Nanami Kento had finally left the endless grind of Jujutsu society, traded the blood and curses for a quiet life in Malaysia, far from the threat of battle.

But when he got that call, it felt like the past had come clawing back, unwilling to let him go. Itadori Yuji’s name on Gojo’s lips stirred something within him—something old, duty-bound, and unwilling to see an innocent youth, especially one with Yuji’s heart, left adrift.

Gojo Satoru's concern was about more than just Yuji, though. Nanami listened as the retired special grade sorcerer, sitting on a cruise across the globe, rattled off frustrations with the new leadership at Jujutsu High and Jujutsu society as a whole. All of it having formed with what he had known from his contacts back at hom.

At the center of it was Usami. That man, the strongest of all first class sorcerers, Usami, who never defied the higher-ups, who prioritized orders and tradition over compassion, whose unfeeling approach Gojo had seen all too often among those aligned with the elders.

Nanami Kento knew the type. They were the very people he’d worked so hard to avoid throughout his career, the type who saw Jujutsu sorcerers as tools more than as people, especially the students.

Now, with Gojo’s absence, Usami had stepped into a more central role at Jujutsu High, and Gojo wasn’t comfortable with it. Why would he? He’s still supporting the remaining conservative factions in Jujutsu High.

There was no other way to feel about it other than this, but concern. The return of a conservative faction, under Gakuganji, would stifle Gojo’s gambles these past few years. Gambles Kento had agreed with, even if not wholeheartedly.

“I don’t want him making decisions for my students, you know? I’m sure you agree about that with me too.” Gojo said bluntly, his tone carrying the usual lazy confidence but undercut by a genuine concern. “They’ve been through enough. They deserve someone who understands them.”

Kento could hear Gojo's frustration; it was an unusual tone in the voice of someone who otherwise seemed to brush off his troubles. And in that sentiment, Nanami found himself nodding in agreement. It didn’t sit well with him, either. But what could he do? He is retired now, isn't he? There was no need for this chatter.

Gojo, as though reading his hesitation, chuckled knowingly over the line. “Look, I’m technically retired too, Nanami. I know your feelings about this.” he said with that familiar cheek in his voice. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t meddle. Keeps me busy as I get old, you know? Gojo clan head is empty without any drama.”

There was a pause, and Kento didn’t know what to say. Gojo Satoru, even in their younger years, used his status to continue to advocate for his interests. And Kento didn’t like it as much, he was someone who liked rules, after all.

Even if he agreed with them, he thinks about the context of propriety. But he knows the soul of Gojo’s argument. He agrees with that. Gojo’s voice softened on the other line.

“Don’t you ever want to keep busy too? I mean, especially when your wife’s at her job? You’re both still in the thick of it, in your own ways. Being a house husband doesn’t always satisfy the itch. Before you rebuttal, you know I’m not lying. ”

Nanami sighed. Gojo’s words struck a nerve. He’s not wrong. Genmei–san also works still, helping out at temples when she has the time. Most of the time, if they weren’t on holiday, it would be Gojo waiting at home and taking care of their children. For a moment, Nanami sat down to think about it properly.

You were deeply invested in your work as a novelist. You adore it, you truly do. But often, it’s hard for you to deal with. You were just as much an independent person in your own right and that was your own mission, your own purpose.

He admired you for that, but there were times when he found himself wondering about his place. He adores taking care of you, he adores being by your side all the time. He adores being your house–husband.

But he often questions, besides that, away from the frontline, away from Jujutsu, what was his purpose now? Was he truly content to let the world of sorcery continue without him, even if it meant leaving those like Yuji to struggle without guidance? Or the kids? What can he do for them? What can he do now?

“Fine, Gojo.” Nanami finally muttered. “I’ll look into it. Just… don’t get used to this.” He could practically hear Gojo’s grin over the line, a smug sort of satisfaction that Nanami knew all too well.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Gojo replied smoothly in response. “But I’ll admit, it’s good to have you back, even if just for a little while.”

And so, he tried to muster the courage to tell you about what he had agreed to. Dinner was a warm, familiar ritual together. And by the beachside in Kuantan, everything about it was a wonder to behold.

The sounds of clinking plates and gentle conversation filled the room, and the two of you settled into the ease of being home together, savoring the evening without the rush of tomorrow hanging over you.

You were halfway through telling him about something small that had happened during your day at the market when he cleared his throat, a subtle shift in his usual, deliberate movements. His fingers, wrapped around his glass, seemed to tighten slightly. You looked at him a little bit confused.

“There’s something I need to tell you, my love.” he began, meeting your gaze with a calm determination. "I’ve decided… to return to Tokyo." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before he continued. "Jujutsu High needs someone to look after the first years. With Gojo retired, things are… in flux."

You blinked, feeling a jolt of surprise, but before you could fully react, he was already explaining, his tone quickening just a touch, as if he’d anticipated your questions. It was rare for your husband to be this way, to ramble about and have his bright brown eyes shake as he looked at you with a shaken uncertainty. But you know when he becomes this way, it’s because of things he cares about.

“It’s not active service, don’t worry about that, my love.” he assured, almost hurriedly, his hand drifting toward yours in an unspoken promise. “I’m not heading back into the field. It’s only to mentor the kids, give them someone they can rely on. They deserve that, especially now.”

You saw his resolve deepen as he spoke of them, the younger students who’d become like family over the years. His voice softened, and you could tell this wasn’t just about filling Gojo’s shoes.

"I can’t abandon Yuji, he’s already without someone. I can’t really do much more damage by leaving him without someone." he said with quiet conviction, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you understood.

“Kento—”

"I know how much he’s been through, and… I don’t want him facing it alone. Nobara, too—she’s so headstrong. She’ll need someone she can turn to, someone to help her channel all that fire. And Gojo’s bound to ask for updates on Fushiguro all the time. You know how he is with him. With them. I just….I just don’t want them to feel so alone about this at all. Usami is gaining some foothold and the conservatives are just….its complicated.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you listened, watching the familiar strength in his face, the quiet protector in him springing back to life. Passion was beautiful in your husband. Seeing even more alive with such caring passion makes you happy.

His gaze held yours, steady and honest, a reassurance that his heart was set on this, that he wasn’t leaving you behind but rather doing what he felt was right, the only thing that made sense.

You let the warmth you felt for him reflect in your smile, reaching for his hand as it rested between you. “Of course, Kento.” you replied softly, squeezing his fingers with encouragement. “They couldn’t have anyone better.”

A soft exhale escaped him, the tension leaving his shoulders as he squeezed your hand back. Relief and gratitude flickered across his face, the subtle shift of a man who didn’t often ask for things but knew he’d been understood completely. There was no need for grand gestures or lengthy explanations between the two of you; your silent agreement spoke volumes.

The conversation turned to lighter things, back to the warmth of dinner. But every so often, you caught his expression softening, a look of contentment and resolve, knowing he was about to embark on something meaningful, not just for him, but for those who needed him.

But of course, that also came with cons.

The move to Tokyo was a calm one.

But it was also a disastrous one, in his mind.

You were both too busy to spend time together.

The shift was subtle at first. Kento began to spend more and more hours at Jujutsu High, guiding the first years, sharing his experience, and quietly observing their progress. He’d come home later than usual, sometimes with papers under his arm and a faint weariness in his expression that he tried to mask with a smile.

Meanwhile, you were pouring yourself into your new book, the words and ideas flowing freely under the careful guidance of your new editor. It was an exciting time, both for your work and for him. There was a renaissance in your paths to life blossoming in your efforts. But there was a toll, a quiet distance neither of you fully acknowledged.

One evening, you noticed the weight in his gaze as he joined you at the table. He seemed quieter, his usual calm presence tinged with something else; something like sadness. You set down your work, reaching across to hold his hand, catching the faint glimmer of surprise in his eyes.

“Things have been so busy lately, my love.” he murmured, his voice soft, almost reluctant to admit it aloud. “I miss being able to spend more time with you.”

Your heart softened at his honesty, and you squeezed his hand gently. “I miss it too, Kento.” you replied, meeting his gaze with reassurance. “But you know how this is… the busy season. Soon, I’ll be back to post-writing mode, and we’ll have more time to do things together. This won’t last forever.”

He nodded, his lips curling into a small, understanding smile. “You’re right. It’s just… different.” There was a flicker of relief in his eyes, but it was short-lived.

As the weeks went on, your new editor’s involvement became more intense, often stretching into late-night calls or spontaneous meetings that kept you occupied well beyond the hours you’d once spent with Kento.

He’d catch you on the phone, your voice animated in a way that was hard to miss, even as he stood in the doorway waiting for a chance to say goodnight. It was hard to deal with, day by day.

But he said nothing, keeping his feelings carefully hidden behind the same mask of calm he’d worn so well for years. But you could sense it, the slight slump of his shoulders, the way his gaze lingered on you just a little longer.

It was as if he was hoping you’d glance up, catch his eye, and read the unspoken questions there. In the quiet moments, he’d watch you, a silent longing in his gaze, feeling the bittersweet ache of being close but somehow… not close enough.

It was an unspoken tension, a soft thread pulled too tight between the two of you. And though he never voiced it, you began to sense how much he missed you—not just physically, but in all the little moments you once shared, now slipping through his fingers.

After all, you guys were all you truly had in all these times. He would always crave everything about you. About loving you, about being close to you. Just you. He missed you.

Nanam Kento was sure that he hadi tried to be patient. He reminded himself, over and over, that this was temporary, just a busy period that would eventually pass. He knew how much this book meant to you and understood how important it was to have an editor who could match your energy and vision.

But despite all his quiet resolve, he couldn’t ignore the pang of envy that crept in every time he saw you light up, laughing or discussing something animatedly over the phone.

The way you and your editor connected; it was undeniable. The easy flow between you two, the synergy that seemed to bridge ideas without any need for words, stirred something unsettled in him.

He would come home from a long day at Jujutsu high, weary but hopeful to catch up with you. Instead, he’d often find you mid-call, your voice carrying hints of excitement he hadn’t heard in a while. You’d wave him a quick greeting, mouthing that you’d be off soon, but “soon” stretched, and his footsteps grew slower on his way to your side.

It wasn’t that he doubted you or the love between you two. He trusted you deeply. But the way you seemed to come alive with this editor… it stung in a way he hadn’t anticipated. He knew you and this person worked well together, that they understood your work and helped bring out your best ideas.

He understood it logically, but logic did little to quell the feeling of being left on the sidelines. After all, it was a feeling he recognized too well—the familiar ache of watching from a distance, of caring deeply and yet holding his tongue.

Some nights, he’d sit across from you at dinner, glancing up occasionally, only to see you distracted, your mind clearly still on your work. Or you’d mention a new idea your editor had suggested, a change you hadn’t considered but were now eager to explore.

And though he nodded, offering his encouragement, he couldn’t shake the thought: When was the last time I could make her smile like that?

As the weeks went by, he felt it more keenly, this quiet envy of the time you spent together. It wasn’t that he begrudged you for the partnership, but he couldn’t help wishing that he could have more of that side of you for himself; the side that was vibrant and full of life, that spark of curiosity and joy he’d always adored.

Nanami Kento wasn’t one to give voice to his insecurities easily, and he knew how silly he might sound, envious over something so innocent. He was a secured man, in all the ways he knew he was. He knew that too well. Yet as much as he told himself it was foolish, the feeling lingered.

So he held back, watching you in those moments with a quiet ache, determined to keep his envy hidden. He’d stay later at the school, throw himself into lesson planning, sometimes even offer to cover additional duties, as though it might distract him. But each time he came home, seeing you lost in conversation or laughter, he couldn’t shake the feeling that, for now, a part of you belonged to someone else.

He told himself it was just work. You had deadlines; he understood that. But there was something else. Whenever your phone pinged with a message, you’d check it quickly, smile to yourself, then type out a reply, sometimes with a small laugh or a shake of your head. And every time, he’d feel a sharp pang of something foreign to him: jealousy.

Kento tried to reason with himself. You were his wife, and he trusted you implicitly. You had built a life together, one based on love, understanding, and mutual respect. But that didn’t stop the gnawing feeling in his chest whenever he saw you so absorbed in those messages or whenever he saw that spark of excitement in your eyes when you talked about the feedback your editor gave you.

He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t shake the thought. When he saw you typing away late into the evening, smiling at the screen, a quiet worry settled in the back of his mind. What was this editor like? Why did their input seem to matter so much to you? And why did Kento, who usually approached everything in life with composure, find himself so deeply unsettled?

Tonight, though, he’d had enough. He stood in the doorway to your office, watching you as you leaned over your laptop, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, fully immersed in your work.

You looked beautiful, more beautiful than ever, but that same nagging feeling of jealousy coiled tighter in his chest. And before he could stop himself, something in him just snapped.

“So, my love.” he said, his voice calm yet edged with tension. “Another late night, huh?”

“Yeah, it would seem so!” You retort, noticing him. “You’ve just come home?”

“Just a while ago.” He says to you, watching you turn your head back to your computer. You were typing even faster. He was sure you were trying to finish it, now that he was home.

You looked up once again, a soft smile lighting up your face. “I didn’t even hear you come in. You came in as sly as a little cat!” You stretched, setting aside your laptop and glancing at him warmly. “I was just going over some notes. The editor had a few thoughts on the latest chapter.”

”Did he have any suggestions for this part?" he asked, casually trying to keep his tone even as he nodded toward your screen.

You looked up, clearly surprised. "Who, my editor?"

"Yeah, my love." he said, keeping his gaze fixed on you as he leaned against the doorframe. "It just seems like he's been really… involved in your work lately."

You tilted your head, noticing the unusual tension in his voice, the way his words held a heaviness that wasn’t like him. “Well, that’s what they’re paid to do, you know?” you replied gently, hoping to keep things light, maybe coax a smile out of him.

But his expression didn’t shift. You could tell almost immediately. Instead, his eyes held a quiet, guarded intensity that stopped you in your tracks. Realizing this was more than a casual remark, you closed your laptop, giving him your full attention.

“Kento… Is something wrong?” you asked, voice soft, searching his face for a sign of what was going on inside him.

He crossed his arms, hesitating. For a moment, he almost looked as if he wanted to brush it off, to go back to his usual collected demeanor, but he stopped. Instead, he looked at you with an intensity that caught you off guard.

“I know it’s irrational, and I know it’s probably nothing.” he said finally, his voice quiet, almost reluctant. “But… I don’t like seeing you so wrapped up in this person’s feedback. You’ve been smiling at your phone more than you do at me lately, and I’m… not exactly used to feeling like this.”

The vulnerability in his words, the admission from someone usually so calm and composed, made your heart soften instantly. You reached out, covering his hand with yours, feeling the tension there, the way his fingers reflexively squeezed back.

“Kento, baby.” you said, voice warm. “You don’t have to feel that way. No editor or anyone else could ever mean as much to me as you do. None of them are you. There’s only one of you, you know?”

He relaxed just a little, his shoulders easing as he let your words sink in. But he didn’t let go of that guarded look, the one that still held a hint of uncertainty. “Then why does it feel like I’m… competing for your attention?” he asked, his gaze never leaving yours. It was a simple question, but the way he asked it, with a vulnerability that you knew he rarely revealed, struck you deeply.

You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. “I guess I didn’t realize how it looked.” you admitted, your thumb brushing lightly along his hand. “It’s just… I got excited about the project, and the new feedback’s been inspiring. But…I’m so sorry for not noticing or making you feel that way, baby.”

You reached out, tracing a gentle hand down his arm, feeling the tension start to melt away as you looked into his eyes. “None of that compares to what I have with you. I hope you know that. You’re the one I come home to, Kento. You’re the one who matters most. I love you. Only you.”

He seemed to exhale, his expression softening. You could see the quiet relief in his eyes, the way the tension finally started to lift, and it made you want to close whatever lingering distance was left between you. And then, his voice, low and almost hesitant, broke the silence.

“Tell me, my love.” he whispered, barely above a murmur. “Tell me that you want me. Just… say it.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice, that rare openness he was offering, made your heart ache in the best way. You don’t think you had ever felt like this before Kento. But every day since then, your heart has created more motions you could never understand. And you know, you just knew – it was because you loved him more than anything in life.

Because your Kento was both sides of the coin of human life. And you embrace it, more than you could ever imagine. Love is just that way. You knew that to be true. You stepped closer, your hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders, grounding him.

“Kento, I want you. Only you.” you said, your voice filled with the sincerity you hoped he could feel. “I want you more than anything. Because you’re my life. My oxygen. My everything.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and before either of you could say another word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm, firm embrace. The warmth you had come to hold onto in this life.

You sank into his hold, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your ear. There was a familiar comfort there, a quiet strength in his embrace, that had always felt like home.

For a few moments, you both stayed that way, close and quiet, as if the world outside had faded and left only the two of you. He lifted his head slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead/

Kento murmured into your hair, his voice gentle. “Promise me you’ll take a break from work. I’ll do it too. We’ll spend time together. Just us. No one else.”

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, a soft smile spreading across your lips. “Of course, my baby. I can postpone everything else. If it’s you, everything else can wait. My husband being happy is more important to me!” you whispered.

A quiet sense of relief washed over him, and he held you a little tighter, his own smile finally breaking through, his usual calm confidence restored. For Kento, there was no greater feeling than knowing you were his and that you were here, sharing this quiet, peaceful moment with him.

As he held you close, he felt a deep contentment, one he rarely allowed himself to savor. The jealousy that had once gripped him faded entirely, replaced by a quiet certainty. Of course there should be. Why wouldn't there be?

The certainty that your love, your life together, was the one thing in the world he could rely on. That he was sure. You love him, after all. And as he closed his eyes, resting his chin atop your head, he silently thanked the universe for you, for this love that was more real, more enduring, than any fleeting worry or passing jealousy.

This, he thought to himself, was where he belonged.

Right here, in this moment, in your arms.

Nowhere else can compare to this.

YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AND HAVE A PICNIC. The night before you had agreed that it would be nice to enjoy the Tokyo sun, and have a picnic at the park. You talked about a cat cafe nearby too. He talked about how the yakisoba dish was introduced at his favorite restaurant. There were new spots popping out in Tokyo for you both to check out.

That’s what you agreed on. Today was supposed to be simple, a peaceful day just to unwind and enjoy each other’s company. But the moment you woke up and felt his gaze linger a bit longer.

Slowly, smoothly, you could feel his hand finding the curve of your waist, you knew that quiet was about to turn into something much more intense. You knew your husband too well. When he’s hungry — he remains hungry.

He pulled you close, his grip both gentle and possessive as his eyes darkened. “Mine, only mine.” he murmured, the word almost a growl, his fingers tracing your skin like he wanted to memorize every part of you.

The world around you melted away as he took his time, every kiss and touch filled with a need that made your heart race. You let him, giving himself over as he murmured softly against your skin, “My pretty wife… just for me.”

You could feel him stretching you out so perfectly with his fingers, causing you to moan loudly. Your husband was good, too good at everything he does. But when it comes to you, he was beyond excellent. Your eyes felt hazy as he looked at you with that predatory stare. You held him even closer, your moan getting louder.

Your head turns awry with the high as you continue to ride his fingers as he kisses your neck, you're stuck against the wall occupied by him. No one, not even your previous lovers, those green boy boyfriends were able to make you feel this good.

No one could make you feel this way. Only him. Only your husband, your Kento. And every single time, he knew it. Even with his jealousy, he knew it. You were always going to fold when it’s him. Only him.

“K–Kento.” you moan out, your voice breathless as you rock against his fingers, the sensation overwhelming in the best way. Each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you can't help but lose yourself in the rhythm he creates. “You’re… you’re… oh—”

His eyes darken with desire, and a sly smile creeps onto his lips. “That’s it, my love.” he replies, his voice low and filled with warmth.

He peppered soft kisses along your neck, each one igniting a fire inside you that burned brighter with every passing second. His fingers pushed deeper, faster, and you felt so incredibly full, the exquisite stretch making your head spin.

“Come. Come for me.” he urged, his words wrapping around you like a spell, both a command and an invitation. The way he held you against the wall, the heat radiating from his body, only heightened the electric connection between you.

Every kiss he placed on your skin felt like a promise, an affirmation of the bond you shared. No one else had ever made you feel this way; so cherished and desired. With him, you were always ready to surrender completely, to give in to the overwhelming pleasure that built within you. Nothing else can compare with what you feel for your husband. Nothing.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter, your body responding instinctively to his every touch. He was so good at remembering where to touch you next. After being together for this long, Kento knew your body even better than you. He knows how to make you cry, how to make you moan. He knows everything.

“Kento.” you gasped, the sound a mix of pleasure and longing, and as his fingers curled just right, that coil finally snapped. Your body shuddered, a wave of bliss crashing over you, leaving you breathless as you surrendered to the moment, lost in the magic of him.

You looked up at him, and his gaze was intense, filled with a mix of satisfaction and hunger that sent a rush of warmth through you. Without a word, he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you with a fervor that reignited the fire within.

His movements were slow at first, but as he pushed his fingers one by one, even deeper, your moans escaped you uncontrollably, pulling him closer as you urged him on, wanting nothing more than to feel every bit of him.

Somehow, you had been able to accommodate every tight, muscular finger in his hand. And you knew it felt good. He knew it felt good. Because he knew just what to do. No one else would. Only Kento would.

He responded with a low, pleased growl, the sound reverberating through his chest as his free hand tightened around your hip, holding you possessively against him.

There was an undeniable power in the way he claimed you, every inch of his touch a reminder of the connection you shared. You felt cherished and owned, completely his in this intimate moment.

Each thrust of his fingers sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you, each stroke deliberate and filled with purpose. Your body responded eagerly, arching into him as you surrendered fully to the sensations, every moan escaping your lips urging him on.

The world outside ceased to exist; there was only you, him, and the electric energy that wrapped around you both, binding you together in a rhythm that felt both primal and tender.

As the intensity of the moment deepened, you could feel the heat radiating from him, a tangible connection that anchored you both in a world of your own. His lips traveled down to your neck, trailing kisses that ignited your skin, leaving behind a trail of fire. You could feel the way he held you, his grip firm yet gentle, and it made you crave more, the need building inside you like a rising tide.

“Just like that, my love.” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and teasing. The sound of his voice sent a thrill through you, adding to the layers of pleasure that enveloped you.

He continued to move his fingers with a deliberate slowness, coaxing every last ounce of ecstasy from your body. Each time he pushed deeper, you gasped, the sensations pulling you closer to the edge once again.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you could merge your bodies into one. Drool started to form from your lips as he thrusted even deeper, pleasure repetitive in your lips to his ears. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed making a mess of you way too much.

“K–kento. Oh my….g—oddddd…..” you breathed, the urgency in your voice echoing your desire. You needed him, all of him, and you wanted to feel that connection intensify. He looked into your eyes, and in that moment, you saw the depth of his love mirrored in his gaze, a promise that went beyond the physical.

He quickened his pace slightly, and you felt every pulse of his fingers inside you, each thrust igniting a new wave of pleasure. You could sense the hunger in him, a deep-seated need to feel you unravel beneath him.

“You’re perfect, aren't you?” he said, the words reverberating through you as you lost yourself in the moment. His possessiveness only heightened your arousal, each stroke of his fingers an affirmation that you belonged to him, and he to you.

With every thrust, every kiss, you felt the world around you blur, leaving only the two of you entwined in a dance of passion. Your bodies moved together as if they were made to fit, every touch syncing perfectly. You surrendered completely, letting the waves of pleasure wash over you, pulling you under and lifting you higher.

“Come for me again, my love.” he urged, his voice a low growl filled with desire. You could feel the pressure building once more, and with a desperate need, you clung to him, riding the waves of sensation that coursed through you.

The world outside faded entirely as you focused on the way he made you feel—alive, cherished, and utterly consumed by the moment. And as you finally tipped over the edge into bliss, you knew that this was where you belonged, wrapped in his arms, lost in your shared passion.

As the world outside faded into a distant hum, you and Kento found yourselves enveloped in an intimate cocoon, where it was just the two of you. His gaze held yours, deep and searching, as if he were reading the unspoken words that danced between you. The air was thick with anticipation, and your heart raced in sync with the pulse of the moment.

With a gentle touch, he caressed your cheek, his fingers trailing down to your neck, igniting sparks of warmth beneath his fingertips. The softness of his touch contrasted with the burning desire that simmered between you, creating a perfect tension that left you breathless. You leaned into him, craving the connection that felt both familiar and exhilarating.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and filled with warmth, laced with a hint of playful teasing that made your stomach flutter. You nodded, feeling a rush of trust and excitement wash over you. You knew he would take care of you, just as he always did.

As he shifted closer, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and safety. When he entered you, it was as if time stood still. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and intimacy that made you gasp softly. You could feel every inch of him, filling you completely, as he took his time, letting you adjust to the fullness.

Kento's eyes never left yours, and in that moment, you felt utterly cherished. Each movement was deliberate, as if he were savoring the connection between your bodies and the bond you shared. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you both surrendered to the rhythm of your bodies.

“You’re so beautiful, my love.” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, and you could feel the sincerity in his words.

Those simple words sent a wave of warmth through you, making you feel both desired and loved. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him even closer, as if you could merge your souls together.

He held you firmly, as though afraid to let go, fingers pressing into your skin with a hunger that left no doubt of his intentions. His hands slid from your waist to your thighs, gripping you with an intensity that was both grounding and electric, each touch sparking a heat that made you shiver.

The way he held you was raw and consuming, as though he wanted to memorize the feeling of you beneath his hands, every curve, every softness. He knew everything like the back of his hand/

You could feel his breath, warm and steady, against your skin, each kiss he placed making you arch closer, melting into the strength of his hold. The roughness of his grip, his possessive energy, pulled you deeper.

It was like he was marking you as his, his touch heavy with a passion that left you breathless. He looked into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense, a silent promise of everything he wanted to give, everything he wanted to take.

The world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, his warmth surrounding you, his presence overwhelming in the best possible way. Every inch of you felt alive under his touch, every nerve alight with a need that only he could satisfy.

His hands continued to explore, leaving trails of warmth, his touch demanding yet tender, as if reassuring you that he was there, and you were his.

The heat between you intensified, his hands roaming slowly, leaving a trail of tingling warmth wherever they went. You trembled, feeling the power behind every touch, every possessive whisper.

You could feel him drinking in the sight of you, holding you close as if he didn’t want to let go. It wasn’t rushed; it was filled with a focused, possessive affection that only made you crave him more.

Time blurred as his movements became a mix of gentleness and intensity. His hands slid lower, holding you firmly, possessively, as he whispered your name.

His words washed over you, filled with longing and satisfaction as he whispered, “You’re mine. Only mine.” Each soft murmur made your breath catch, his voice rough with devotion.

Your husband had always had a way of grounding you, pulling you back to him in the moments you needed it most. He held you with a quiet strength, his touches both comforting and electric, each caress more deliberate than the last.

When the busy schedules and late nights began to take their toll, you’d find yourself in his arms, feeling the tension melt away as he made you his world.

He was possessive in the gentlest way, his lips tracing along your skin, his voice murmuring low, tender words that anchored you to the present.

"Mine, mine." he'd say, over and over, his voice a husky whisper as he pressed deeper, slow and unhurried, savoring each moment. "My beautiful wife, my one and only."

You let yourself unravel under his touch, feeling each surge of pleasure as he pulled you closer, his mouth finding yours in heated kisses, his hands firm as they held you against him. The world outside faded, and there was only him—each movement, each shudder of pleasure woven with his love and need for you.

And as your body trembled, giving in to the pleasure he offered, he’d whisper words that sent warmth spiraling through you: His only. His good girl. His good little wife.

With every pulse and every breath, he made you his, claiming you in the way only he could, and you felt yourself give in, letting him take what he needed, knowing that he was yours just as deeply.

In these moments, he was entirely yours, just as you were his, both of you wrapped up in a world where only the two of you existed. And as he held you close, that familiar need he had for you was clear in his eyes, you could feel the depth of his love; the way he wanted you, needed you—all pouring out with each possessive word and touch.

Every thrust was slow and measured, each movement deliberate and filled with purpose, as if Kento were painting a masterpiece with your bodies.

He took his time, carefully crafting a rhythm that drew you both closer to the edge of ecstasy, like the steady buildup of a powerful wave ready to crash upon the shore. Each moment felt like an eternity, stretched and molded by his touch, igniting every nerve ending with heat and longing.

Kento relished in the way you responded to him, the way your body quivered beneath him, your breaths coming in soft gasps that filled the space between you.

He liked making you wait, savoring the way your eyes widened in need and your body writhed, pleading for more. The way you mewled over and over again, lost in the depths of desire, was music to his ears, a siren call that drove him further into the depths of his own hunger for you.

“Please, Kento. More. More—” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation, the need pooling in the pit of your stomach. Each word was a plea, a yearning that echoed in the silence of the room, punctuated only by the soft sounds of skin meeting skin.

“P–please….pleaseeeee…..”

A teasing smile played on his lips as he leaned down, his breath warm against your neck. He bit gently into your flesh, a sweet sting that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through you, causing you to moan, tears streaming down your face from the overwhelming sensations flooding your body.

“Enjoy it, my love. Enjoy the slow burn.” he murmured, his voice low and husky, wrapping around you like a silken ribbon. “Let’s have fun, hm?”

His words were a command and a caress, urging you to embrace the intensity of the moment. The way he spoke your name, the way he held you, felt like a tether pulling you deeper into the shared experience. You were both caught in a delicate dance, a balance of power and surrender, where every pause and every gentle caress built anticipation.

The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you intertwined, lost in the growing tension between your bodies. Kento was in control, but you loved it. You loved the way he took his time, how each thrust felt like an exploration, a journey into the very essence of what it meant to be together.

He would withdraw slightly, teasing you with the promise of more, before plunging back into you with a slow, deliberate push that sent sparks of pleasure radiating from the core of your being.

Each pulse of his body against yours was a reminder of his possession, of the bond you shared that was both beautiful and intoxicating. The slow burn he created enveloped you, igniting your senses and drawing you closer to the precipice of your desires. You could feel the heat building within you, an insistent wave that throbbed and twisted, desperate for release.

“Just like that, my love.” he encouraged, his voice a soothing balm against the tumultuous storm of emotions swirling inside you. “Let it build. Let it consume you.”

You let his words command you, letting them wash over you as you melted into the sensations. Every tear that fell was a blessing of pleasure and the pain mingling together, a sweet agony that you welcomed wholeheartedly.

You could feel your heart racing, your breaths quickening, as you approached that sweet, familiar edge, caught between the bliss of the moment and the urgency of your need.

With every deep stroke, you felt a delicious tension building within you, a tightness that was both exhilarating and overwhelming. Each time he filled you completely, it ignited a spark of pleasure that resonated deep in your core, drawing soft gasps from your lips. Your husband was a great lover. Perhaps the best there ever was.

You surrendered to him fully, giving yourself over to the sensations that enveloped you. The outside world faded away, leaving nothing but the two of you entwined in this intimate dance. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his breath mingled with yours, made every moment feel precious.

You can only focus on him. Only him. He was what mattered. The way his eyes held yours, filled with an intensity that spoke volumes of his love and desire.

You could write as many beautiful works as you could ever want. But perhaps the most beautiful creation in your life was him. Loving Nanami Kento was your most beautiful creation.

In that moment, nothing else mattered but the way he made you feel. It was a combination of love and raw passion, an electric current that flowed between you, binding you together in a way that felt profoundly intimate.

Every caress of his hands, every whispered word, heightened your awareness of him, igniting your senses and making you acutely aware of the depth of your connection.

You could feel his warmth enveloping you, a comforting presence that made you feel safe yet desired. The way he moved, the way he took his time to explore every inch of you, filled you with an overwhelming sense of affection and longing.

With each thrust, you could feel your bodies communicating in a language all your own, a silent exchange that deepened the bond between you.

As you both lost yourselves in each other, the outside world faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you entwined in a universe of your own making.

The air around you thickened with anticipation, and every touch felt electric, as if the very essence of your connection pulsed between you. As if you truly belonged together.

You could sense the tension coiling tighter, each movement a languid dance that drew you deeper into an exquisite rhythm, a beautiful synergy that melded your souls together and ignited a fire within you that felt utterly intoxicating.

“Kento, I’m coming. I’m so close.” you gasped, the words spilling from your lips as desire swirled through your veins.

He trailed kisses along your jaw, his lips soft yet insistent, igniting a cascade of shivers that traveled down your spine. “Come for me, baby. Let go.” he urged, his voice low and rich with promise, wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

That was when he shifted, his movements quickening, a sudden urgency that sent your heart racing. The delicious friction intensified, and with each thrust, the world outside vanished completely, leaving only the two of you in a haze of passion.

Every kiss, every whisper, every pulse of his body against yours propelled you closer to that blissful edge, where pleasure and surrender intertwined, drawing you both into a beautiful climax that promised to sweep you away entirely.

As Kento quickened his pace, the urgency of his movements sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, building to a peak that felt both thrilling and inevitable.

The air around you crackled with electricity, every sensation heightened as he pressed deeper, claiming you in a way that made your heart race and your body ache for more. His breaths came in ragged gasps, mingling with the sound of skin against skin, each thrust driving you further into a euphoric haze.

“My love, I’m so close.” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I’m….I’m gonna come.”

You could see the raw need in his gaze, the way he was completely lost in the moment, just as you were. It was intoxicating to know that you had this effect on him, that you could pull him into this blissful space where nothing else mattered but the two of you.

“I want you, baby.” you whispered, your voice trembling with urgency as you felt that familiar coil tightening within you. “I need you.”

“D’ you want me inside, hm? Where do you want me?”

You moan, thinking about how hot it was. How hotter it would be to have him inside of you. “I-inside me. Please. Please. Make me full.”

“Y’d like that? You want me to make you full of me, my love?”

“Yes, yes, o–oh, yes—”

With a low growl, Kento shifted his focus, pushing into you with a deep, purposeful thrust that sent stars dancing behind your eyelids. The world outside was a distant memory, all that existed was the heat building between you, a fire that consumed you both whole.

His movements were rhythmic yet fervent, each push coaxing you closer to the edge, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you. It felt so good. It felt way too good and you wanted it to last forever.

“Let go, my love.” he urged, his voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers coursing through your body. “I’m right there with you.”

And then, with a final, deep thrust, you felt him come inside you, warmth flooding you as he released with a low groan, his body pulsing against yours. The sensation was overwhelming—a rush of heat that spread through you, mingling with your own climax as pleasure washed over you in waves, leaving you breathless and trembling benea

th him.

You held on closer to him, taking in a new dawn’s breath.

You were so in love with this man, more than you know.

And he was the same — he couldn’t get enough of loving you.

“You know, if I had known jealousy would make you like this…” you finally say, your voice still laced with breathlessness as you regain your composure.

The warmth of the moment lingers around you like a soft blanket, and you can feel the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through your body. Kento’s kisses trail along your glistening skin, each gentle press of his lips a sweet reminder of the connection you’ve just shared.

His lips are soft against you, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, and the scent of your mingled skin fills the air with a heady sweetness that is all-consuming.

“I would get you jealous often, baby.” you tease, a playful smile curving your lips as you look down at him.

Kento pauses, lifting his gaze to meet yours, his expression a mixture of amusement and mock seriousness. “Is that so?” he replies, his voice a low rumble that sends a delightful shiver through you.

The intensity in his eyes is unmistakable, a mix of possessiveness and affection that makes your heart flutter.You can’t help but laugh softly, the sound echoing around you in the intimate space you’ve created together.

“Absolutely. You should see how cute you get when you’re all riled up, baby.” you say, playfully nudging him with your shoulder. “Fiesty and all.”

His lips curve into a smirk, and he leans closer, brushing his nose against yours. “You’re lucky I’m not the type to stay jealous for long, my love.” he murmurs, the warmth of his breath tickling your face. “But if it means I get to have you like this…”

His voice trails off, and he plants a series of soft kisses down your neck, each one sending delightful tingles racing across your skin. You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment to relish the sensations he stirs within you.

“You’re incorrigible sometimes, Kento.” you whisper, feeling the weight of his affection enveloping you. The playful banter only adds to the intimacy, making it all the more special, as if you were sharing a secret joke that only the two of you understood.

“Only for you, my love.” he replies, his voice sincere as he pulls back just enough to gaze into your eyes. “But really, seeing you light up like that—it’s worth it. Just know I’ll always come back to claim what’s mine.”

epilogue

As the soft glow of the evening light filtered through the window, casting gentle shadows across the room, you and Kento found yourselves nestled comfortably together. You hadn’t left the bed much since this morning.

And your husband was incredibly happy about that. He wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. Everything about the room smelt like sex and sweat, that was to be expected. Your husband’s insatiable when he gets into it.

But the atmosphere was relaxed and intimate, the air filled with the kind of warmth that comes from deep affection. Everything about the aftermath was the passion of lovers who will always be in love.

And you couldn't help but admit that you felt blessed with that. This passion between you and Kento, it will never die. For bitter, for worse, for good and better — you will always have this. You will always be together like this.

After a playful exchange repeating over and over again, you both took breaks in between. For a while, you both watched some television. Kento seems to enjoy Love Island, so he wants to watch the whole series with you now. A little while later, the two of you talked a little bit about the little things you’ve seen and done lately.

Soon enough, you were sure you were hungry. Kento immediately kissed you and went to the kitchen, coming back with some bowls of favorite snacks and some refreshing drinks, on ice.

But of course, he urged you to drink the water most. With all the screaming he’s made you do, he’s a little bit more worried about your voice,

You both conversed about silly things now, laughing at how Yuji seems to be as silly as ever before. About how Gakuganji seems to continue to be annoyed by Gojo Satoru’s phone calls.

But then he talked about Gojo Satoru expecting another child on the way, albeit accidental. In that moment, you realized it was that moment. So, you took a moment to shift the conversation to that.

“You know, baby…..” you began, leaning your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. “I know you’re still busy, I’ve been thinking maybe….just maybe…”

“You know surprises aren’t needed.” He laughs, lowering his head to press a kiss to your cheek.

“I know, I know.” You roll your eyes playfully but let out a small smile, leaning against his chest. “Don’t you think it’s time we consider having kids soon. I’m really happy to make that happen soon.”

Kento turned to you, his brow raising in playful skepticism, but a smile tugged at his lips. “Is that so? You’re ready to dive into the chaos of parenting, my love? You know it’s a lot of work, right?” He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting, filling the space between you.

You couldn’t help but grin back, your heart fluttering at the prospect. “Of course! But I think it would be so worth it. Just imagine our little ones running around, making messes and keeping us on our toes.”

He smiles at you fondly. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I know so.” You grinned at him. “I can also see you being the doting dad, teaching them all about fighting and how to protect themselves. Or you know, just making some bread from home! I do miss authentic rye bread from an expert in Danish baked goods. Imagine how our kids will feel when they eat it too!”

He laughed, a rich, hearty sound that echoed in the room and made you feel light with joy. “You think so? I suppose you’re right, my love. I can already picture myself getting wrapped around their little fingers. They’d have me wrapped around their hearts in no time.”

The sincerity in his tone made your heart swell with happiness.

Everything about your husband makes you feel happy everyday.

If life were to teach what happiness looks like, it would be him.

“Exactly!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over. “And they’d have your strength and my charm. Can you imagine how adorable they’d be?”

Kento’s expression softened, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “You know, I’ve always wanted that. A family with you. You make everything better.” His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, igniting a sense of hope and love within you.

“So, you’re on board with the idea?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with anticipation.

“Absolutely, my love.” he replied, that playful smirk returning to his face. “But first, I think we need to indulge in another round of this.”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, and captured your lips in a kiss that sent shivers down your spine. You melted against him, losing yourself in the moment, the kiss deepening as he pulled you closer.

It was intoxicating, filled with a mix of passion and love that made your heart race. Everything about Kento was just a pool you wanna drown in. Everything about him was worth drowning in. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped up in each other, a perfect blend of laughter, warmth, and desire.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, your cheeks flushed with warmth, Kento looked at you with that glint of mischief in his eyes that you adored.

“Okay, let’s talk about the details later, my love.” he said, grinning widely. “But for now, I think we have some important work to do to ensure that happens.”

With that, he pulled you back into another passionate kiss, laughter bubbling between you as you savored the moment. You felt the electric connection between you, the promise of a beautiful future hanging in the air, ripe with possibilities.

As you both continued to kiss, the playful banter resumed, filled with sweet nothings and playful teasing about the “practice” needed for the future family you envisioned. After all, practice makes perfect.

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yourstru1y4ever · 2 months ago

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Day 18 - Hiding an injury

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x F!Reader Word Count: 2.6k Content: Hidden Inventory Arc, canon typical violence (blood, passing out, becoming paralyzed), Gojo is a total asshole through most of this (sorry not sorry), Reader is in her first year at Jujutsu High along with Nanami and Haibara Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: So I’m stealing this prompt from the day 15 list because I really liked the idea of hiding an injury and I wanted to play with that here. Anyone who's curious about where in Hidden Inventory this takes place it would be in June 2006! Anywho be sure to like, reblog and comment if you want more! - YoursTruly

No one is going to help you out.

“Damn it!” You grumble. Of course the mission that the second years are supervising is the one where you, Nanami and Haibara get trapped in an incomplete domain.

The three of you were told that there was a second grade curse who could manipulate other people’s realities. The longer it was alive the stronger it would become. Granted it wasn’t supposed to be your curse to exorcize.

“A measly second grade?” Gojo whined. “Do you want us to immediately wipe it out? Give the case to someone else!”

Gojo slouched over his desk in annoyance, while Yaga huffs out a sigh.

You and Nanami were sparring out by the track field and Haibara was keeping track of who was winning when you all overheard Gojo from the classroom.

Nanami rolled his eyes and brought his blade up towards you. Shaking your head, you spun the bamboo pole around your hands and pointed it towards him. He swung and you blocked his attack, looking for any opening to strike him.

Yaga glared at him, “Satoru is right, as much as I don’t want to feed his ego.” Geto agreed, “This curse is way too weak for us.”

Gojo brought his gaze to you and Nanami sparring. You were blocking every single hit from Nanami and you were starting to look bored.

“Why don’t we give it to the three of them?” Gojo blurted out.

Yaga followed Gojo’s gaze and took a deep breath in contemplation. “They’re still pretty weak, it’s only been a month since coming to Jujutsu High.”

“We’ll watch over them.” Geto reasoned, “There’s plenty that they can learn from us out in the field.”

And now you’re stuck in an incomplete domain because of their lazy asses.

You wanted to stick together as a group but due to the curse’s technique it separated you three from each other.

Maybe if Gojo wasn’t bothering you the entire bullet train ride over, you would’ve been able to sense the curse much better.

There’s not much you can do about it now, you need to find the entrance. If the curse is strong enough to trap you in this twisted domain, then it’s strong enough to cause you serious damage.

You can’t retrace your steps, when you look behind there’s just a vast emptiness. Looking ahead isn’t much better; it’s still a vast emptiness but you can see some semblance of walls trying to form around you.

No curses are surrounding you so you just keep walking forward. Staying still will get you killed. It had to be at least an hour since you guys had entered the domain, Geto and Gojo should’ve gotten you guys at this point. What’s taking them so long?

The walls are slowly taking more of a shape and you suddenly stop. Looking down, your feet are stuck in a viscous liquid. You’re unable to move from where you stand and you start to feel a prickling sensation at your feet.

“Damn it!” You yell. You can feel your frustration building up in your body and turning into raw cursed energy. Breathe. Conserve that energy, don’t waste it.

You close your eyes and focus your energy. Try to feel your surroundings, gauge where the curse is located.

It’s an overwhelming presence, it feels like the curse is all around you. It has to be the domain you’re sensing. Dig deeper.

You can feel your heart beating and the blood flowing through your veins. You try to find any feeling similar to yours.

A few moments pass by where you’re completely still, seemingly unaware of the presence that was slowly trudging towards you.

A claw swings down towards your face, “f o u n d. y o u.”

You lean back from the claw, eyes still closed but scrunched in a focus. While leaning back you focus your cursed energy to your right fist, a splattering of black and blue covering your arm.

You open your eyes and land the blow on its face. “Divergent Fist!”

It tanks the hit, and gets pushed back when your cursed energy surges through the punch a few milliseconds after the initial hit.

The curse disperses around the room and the energy output it was spewing out grew stronger. The liquid you are stuck in is slowly creeping its way up your legs, making you more immobile.

You close your eyes again and focus on your breathing. Look defenseless, the curse will come back.

The curse’s overwhelming presence doesn’t bother you anymore. You can feel the blood moving in its body; it’s different from human blood that much you can tell.

Its weak point is now around your legs, the blood coursing through and trying to digest you. Your face twists in concentration and you can vaguely sense everyone else you were with.

They- they’re outside!

SLASH! You barely dodge the curse’s attack, but your reaction could have been faster. You feel your right shoulder throbbing and a steady flow of blood coming out. You bring your left hand up to start putting pressure on the wound.

You needed to keep your arms up anyways since the goop is now at your hips and slowly climbing higher.

You’re the only one stuck in this incomplete domain. You can outsmart this curse. Desperate times come desperate measures.

You focus your cursed energy to flow through the bottom half of your body and you try your hardest to push your legs through the sludge.

With a lot of force your legs become free, small pin pricks lining your uniform. Run, escape, get outside. You need to see your family again.

With that thought, your legs had a dark blue outline that turned red from raw cursed energy. While Yaga trained you to keep your cursed energy more focused and balanced, you figured he would allow this exception.

As your raw energy flowed you picked up the pace, outrunning the curse. You bring the energy that flowed from your legs into your fists, never losing momentum.

With as much energy you could muster you bring your fist to a half-formed wall, “Black-!” You jump and your fist makes contact-

CRASH! “-FLASH!!” You crash through the domain, shards of the cursed energy shatter around you and you’re falling. Your hand opens up and you roll onto the ground, laying flat on your back with the wind knocked out of you.

Your body aches and you shakily bring a hand up to your right shoulder. You shift, feeling the curse still in the area. Just because you broke out of its incomplete domain, doesn’t mean that you’ve won.

“Damn. . . it. . .” You breathe out. Your legs are immobile at this point, realization sinking in when the curse poisoned you with that goop around your legs.

You can sense the curse still slinking around, waiting to finish you off but you can vaguely feel Haibara and Nanami closing in on your location. You smile and try to lean to your left side.

When you move, the curse picks up its speed to attack. Your smile doesn’t wane, if anything it gets wider.

The curse forms itself into a creature with multiple limbs, its mouth agape, leaking out purple blood. It’s charging at full speed towards you and you bring your hand up trying to give yourself some sort of protection.

You make eye contact with the curse and start laughing, “You’re. . . dead.” you huff out. Two fingers curl into your palm and the hand you had facing the curse becomes a finger gun.

You pretend to shoot at it and the curse’s limbs fall off.

You become slack-jawed, looking down at your finger gun.

“Did I just do that?” You mutter. You feel a pair of arms wrap around your torso, lifting you up into a sitting position.

“Nah it was Nanami,” Haibara tells you, “Can you stand?”

“No. My legs are paralyzed from the curse’s poison.” You look over and see Nanami focused on the fight in front of him. Haibara walks in front of you, his back to you and kneels down.

He pats his back, “Hop on!” And you sulk while putting your hands on his shoulders

“This is humiliating,” you say under your breath.

“Huh?” Haibara looks back at you and you hoist yourself onto his back.

“I said you should be helping Nanami.”

Haibara turns his attention back to the fight and gently picks up your legs to wrap around his torso.

He stands, “Nah Kento’s got it, plus Geto and Gojo should be here any second now.”

You scoff, “Uh-huh.”

You hear a squelching sound and the curse is exorcized by Nanami.

You rest your head on Haibara’s shoulder and allow yourself a moment of peace.

“Great work Kento!!” Haibara beams.

Nanami cleans off his blade, and wraps it up, “I wouldn’t have been able to exorcize it without your help.” He gestures towards you.

You weakly smile at him and your eyes flutter close.

“Hey come on stay awake!” Haibara shakes and you groan in frustration.

”I’m fine, I just-“ You freeze and whip your head to your left. Eyes focused on something the other two couldn’t see.

“What is it?” “How many?” They overlap, you stay quiet and they wait for your response.

Nanami unwrapped his blade again, getting into a fighting position as Haibara took a firmer grip on your legs. His carefree smile turned into a more serious look.

“Two more curses, both are maybe a third or fourth grade.” You tell them and they visibly relax.

“Well if that’s the case-“ Haibara looks at Nanami and the blond rolls his eyes.

“No.”

“What?!“ Haibara pouts, “Come on, you owe me!”

You’re still looking at the oncoming curses, but something feels off.

“. . .Fine.”

Gojo and Geto were here too, right? So that would mean what you are feeling Geto’s-

“Rock! Paper! Scissors!-”

“DUCK!” You push down on Haibara’s shoulders and Nanami follows. You all land on the ground right as Geto’s rainbow dragon comes blasting through, destroying all the greenery you were surrounded by. The two boys hop off the dragon's back and Geto sends it away.

Motherfuckers-

“Maaaaaan, you first years got roughed up pretty bad, wouldn’t you say Suguru?”

“The curse should've been an easy task,“ Geto walks up to the pile of you on the ground, you glare at the two boys who are smirking.

Haibara slowly gets up and helps get you on his back again as you stare down the two upperclassmen.

“The curse was able to create an incomplete domain, we were trapped as soon as we went inside the veil Haibara created.” Nanami informs them.

Geto shares a look with Gojo who still has a carefree smile on his face.

“An incomplete domain?” Geto pushes.

Nanami nods his head, “Yes, we would’ve been dead if she hadn’t broken through the domain.” The upperclassmen still.

Gojo turns and gives his attention to you, “You broke out of its domain? You?”

“I thought you guys had escaped!” You ignore Gojo’s question, “I sensed your cursed energy outside of its domain.”

“Uh, hello?”

“Nah we were stuck fighting these fourth grade curses. They just kept coming and coming; they were never ending!” Haibara complains.

Nanami nods his head once, “At least it gave us good training on target practice.”

“Hello? I asked a quest-!”

You cut him off, sighing, and barely look in his direction, “Yeah I did, so?”

“How?”

“Uhm. . .” You close your eyes and try to remember. Despite being in that fight mere minutes ago you can’t seem to remember, “I’m not sure.”

“HA?!”

Your shoulder throbs and you wince in pain, “You okay?” Geto asks.

“Just. . . fine. . .” You groan. Black spots start to appear in your vision and your grip on Haibara’s shoulders loosen.

“Hey! Stay awake!!” Is the last thing you remember before passing out.

When you open your eyes, you’re back at Jujutsu High in one of the medical dorms. Your right shoulder is bandaged up and you notice that the cuts on your hands are gone as well as Gojo holding onto your left hand. He’s looking away from you, his head on your lap, fast asleep.

You use your other hand to gently card your fingers through his hair but Geto walks into the room, holding some tea. He gives you a knowing smile as you set your right hand down, a light blush on your cheeks.

“I see you’re awake.”

“How long was I out?” You try to sit up, but the lower half of your body still feels like mush. Gojo groans at you moving, but still stays asleep.

“For a few days at least,” Geto moves to the other side of your bed, “He’s been here since waiting for you to wake up y’know.”

“Oh.” You both glance at Gojo, who’s still resting.

“We didn’t realize how much blood you were losing,” You turn to look at Geto, who’s avoiding your gaze.

“It’s not anyone’s fault,” You tell him and the corners of his mouth dip down for a moment before he gives you another smile.

“All that matters is that you’re safe.” You nod at that, but can’t help but still feel tension in the air. Sorcerer’s like you are a dime a dozen. They shouldn’t have been this upset at you getting hurt. It’s a small price to pay when dealing with curses.

“I should tell Shoko and the other’s that you’re awake.” Geto starts to leave the room, “They’ll probably ask you questions of things you remember and make sure that your vitals are alright; stuff like that.” He waves his hand as a silent goodbye as he leaves the room.

You lean your head back and look up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything. Why did any of them care?

Your legs are still slightly paralyzed from the curse, so you don’t feel Gojo stirring. He slowly blinks awake, eyes widening realizing you're okay. Thank God.

He wants to say something, anything, but when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. He looks down and sees that you’re still holding his hand. He squeezes your hand and smiles. You look back at him and he can see a faint blush on your checks, cute.

“I’m sorry?” You tilt your head to the side and Gojo gives you a look.

“What?”

“I thought you said-,” You look down at your lap as Gojo lets go of your hand and stands up to stretch. His hand was so warm and without it just feels wrong.

“I didn’t say anything.” He crosses his arms and looks away from you, hoping you wouldn’t notice that the tips of his ears are slightly pink.

“You probably said something stupid,” Shoko tells him as she enters the room. She gives you a smile, “Glad to see you’re awake.”

“Glad to be awake.” You give her a smile back.

Shoko nods her head and starts her examination while Gojo stays beside you, not saying a word or acknowledging you.

However, Gojo doesn’t actually leave your side until after you go back to your dorm, which took most of the day. He quietly helped you walk back to the dorm, since your legs were still recovering from the poison, and made sure that Haibara or Nanami would bring you something to eat.

But of course Gojo went back to his usual asshole-ish self once you were fully healed and back in class.

You wondered if that would ever change. . . though you seriously doubted that.

#tuna tober 2024 #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru #nanami kento #haibara yu #shoko ieiri

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johnbrand · 6 months ago

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The New Fad

It was strange how this seemingly irresistible fad suddenly swept in. I took a sip of my coffee, noticing how every man appeared to be identically dressed from my chair outside the cafe. The city was filled with men in suits. On the clock, off the clock, even if their workplace required them to wear a different uniform, the second their hours where up a 3-piece would be resituated onto the body.

This change had been so quick too. Brooks Brothers replacing Nike, businessmen replacing athletes. At first it seemed like nothing, but soon people I knew started jumping on board too. One was once the most raggedy of counterculture punks, but the next time I saw him he had come from the barbershop with his spiked, flamboyant hawk mowed down into a tame, respectable cut. Two more of my friends were a colorful, progressive couple, yet I later found out through their social media they had split to focus on their “domestic financial endeavors.” They had taken up investments and accounting since.

I did not see the appeal in this rigid conformity, this sweeping mentality to return to tradition. It was simply too drab, too starchy. This new trend meant every man was perfectly groomed, stiffly suited, and promptly coordinated towards his career. And with this came the resurgence of other forgotten subcultures: the craving to marry a homebound woman, the chance to create numerous offspring, the promise of a nuclear family. As a gay male who considered business casual as the only form of formality, none of this interested me.

With a sigh, I took another sip of my coffee, readjusting the sleeves of my hoodie before grabbing my phone. A new software update had installed, boasting upgraded accuracy in facial recognition. Raising the screen to unlock the device, I dreamily absorbed the beguiling swirl of colors and patterns. The phone was thinking, recognizing my identity.

<ah…a lot of work to do here. lets see…gotta add some layers…no more hoodies or leisurely clothes for you. only formal articles. that collar should be stiff, and lets get you in a charcoal tie to match that dark standard suit. so much better. dont you agree? just nod your head, thats a good boy. you dont want that shaggy beard or unkempt hair. no no, a good handful of texturing fiber will keep you with a solid, unwaveringly tall quiff. this is your new haircut, and that stubble will need to be maintained every day, got that? yes, you are a good boy, a good preppy boy.> <no no, just keep staring into the phone. you’re going to be clean and suited now, forever. returning to tradition, how men were always meant to be. and doesnt it feel right? dont you feel like youve come home? youve never felt so comfortable in your skin, so comfortable in your clothes. confident, conservative, and able to admit what you are. you are a preppy boy now. that sounds a little strange, right? thats ok, say it with me. preppy boy, I am a preppy boy. strange…but good, right? say it one more time. some may say youre a bit old-fashioned, but we both know why something becomes traditional–because it has always worked. nod your head slowly with me. it’s too hard to do anything but agree with me, right?> <now, the update is almost done, so let me just add in a few more quick things. lets see…fixation to the haberdashery…commitment to formality…dependence on the institution. what else am I missing…hmmm…are you a homosexual? no no, thats not going to work. good preppy boys are straight. nod with me, yes. desire of offspring…familial responsibility…an itch that can only be comforted by the omnipresent cinch of a fastidiously knotted tie. ah, it seems my time is up. just remember, your only aspiration in life is to be a good preppy boy. nod for me if you understand. thats a good preppy boy.>

Unable to recall what I was doing, I tucked my phone back into the seat pocket of my pressed trousers. I sipped once more at my coffee and took in the impeccable Financial District around me. All the men in suits, one could practically smell the crisp clean bills in their pockets. Back and forth from two destinations, the office with the other businessmen or the home with the wife and kids. Pulling up the sleeve of my suit jacket, my expensive watch informed me it was my time for the first. And once the hours were put in, I could return home to my own woman before beginning the cycle again.

#gay to straight #male tf #male transformation #preppification

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harleehazbinfics · 11 months ago

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‌ For the Dreaming

Lucifer Morningstar x devout!reader

devout series

Word Count: 920+

A/N: word puke basically. y'all i was writing this on my phone notes, takes me back to my highschool days writing on wattpad 😭 also also i need to work on a poster for this series hngshd *update: i got the poster >:]]

You finally got around to having lessons with Lucifer on flying. Husk could've helped you, but he couldn't be bothered. While all he did was just doze around the bar and barely does anything, you respected his decision and left him to himself. Leading you at Lucifer's door.

‌ As you softly knock folding hands to yourself as you wait with a small smile as you greet him much to his pleasant surprise.

"Hey, (y/n)! Come in, come in! What can I do for you?" He asked letting you in his room.

"I wanted to ask you for your help," you chirped adorably making the former angel smile, "I wanted to learn how to fly. I can get by with walking but it could be helpful when I'm trying to get away from one of Vaggie and Angel's fights."

‌ He smiles at your joke, and nods, agreeing to your request. So he takes you to the hotel's roof and teaches you how to flap your wings on the ground. Then takes you to the air teaching you how to glide and practice how and when to flap your wings.

‌ Your sessions would go on for a couple weeks until you could confidently fly by yourself, and even take Lucifer on some races that you'd naturally lose to. The man knew how to fly before the Earth was even created and he had 3 pairs of wings, so what chances would you have had to win against him.

‌ However, that doesn't mean that he isn't proud of you all the same. He was enamored by how gracefully you flew, the elegant tuck of your wings when you dove under obstacles, how your body moves along your movements like a captivating dance and most importantly, how your wings flutter subconsciously as you talked and joked with him.

‌ It didn't take a genius to realize that this duck-loving King of Hell was definitely having feelings towards you. Oof.

‌ He noticed that despite your conservative behavior you normally show around others, when you let your walls down, he realizes that you enjoyed jokes a lot despite how corny they would be and enjoyed sharing the same type of humor to him. He learnt that you were just naturally kind to others, being their shoulder to cry on, being so generous and helpful to others without expecting anything in return. Which was such a fresh breath of air in this damned place, that only takes from one another.

‌ When he asks what your dreams were, you smiled distantly. You explained that you never had dreams for yourself, as a servant of God, you have wished the best for people hoping blessings will find their way and enlighten them in their time of need. But you never pursued any of your time towards any hobbies. Not because you didn't have time, but because you were content in the role that you played and seeing such happy faces that you've helped.

‌ Lucifer knew you were such a kind soul, but he never knew that it was to this extent. But he wanted to help you realize your interests, so he starts picking out what you enjoyed doing aside from your missionary work. You shared that you normally journaled and read bibles and various genres of books.

‌ Both of you divulged and shared your interest that never realized that you were gone for 3 days away from the hotel, away in Lucifer's castle messing around and playing Lucifer's duck inventions and papers sprawled out on the floor, until Charlie called her dad worriedly.

‌ Both of you raced to the hotel and explained what happened to Charlie to calm her when she was on the brink of a mental breakdown.

‌ To assure her daughter, he summons yours and his work on the waiting lounge that barely anyone used and continued working with you there in Charlie's sights.

‌ When the princess of hell finally calms down with Vaggie comforting her, she immediately notices how bright her father's eyes had gotten. No longer the disassociated look that seemed to drown out his problems by working and working until he stopped thinking about anything else.

‌ She liked the new look on his dad's face when he clearly enjoyed creating inventions that had a purpose and a face full of wonder. And she definitely knew it was because of you and she couldn't be more grateful to you for it.

‌ You reminded him what it's like to dream, to show wondrous and wonderful things with the world. Things that could change and even help the world. Something that he long buried deep within himself with shame and embarrassment.

‌ He loved the smile on your face when you shared some fact that he probably already knew about or how your eyes shined when he showed you all the tricks his ducks could do.

‌ He most especially loved the way you called his nickname though. It was just the first 2 syllables of his name, but his heart would've flown out his chest when you called him so tenderly.

‌ He knew it came from a place that condemned his name being spoken so brazenly, that you had opted to call out his name as "Luci." He never minded it though, he knew of how much they hated him that it became numbed to him, unfortunately. Besides, he adored how your lips curled to a smile when you called him, so it was nothing under his skin. He loved you all the same.

Wait... Did he just say loved??? ... shit..

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin fotel fanfic #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vaggie #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #i love luci

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actualmermaid · 1 year ago

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Today is All Saints Day, and I'm observing it in a somewhat unconventional manner: cyberbullying the Anglican Church in North America

The ACNA, if you're not familiar, is a group that splintered off from the Episcopal Church in 2009. The reason for the schism was that they believed TEC had "gone astray" by ordaining women priests and affirming LGBTQ people, so a bunch of conservative Episcopalians and clergy split off into their own group: the ACNA. They claim to be "continuing" Anglicans, representing the "real" Anglican tradition in the US and Canada.

The reason I'm cyberbullying them on All Saints Day is because they are conspicuously missing a lovely, pious, respectable, and orthodox Anglican saint: Saint Aelred of Rievaulx (1110-1167 CE)

St. Aelred was a monk, abbot, historian, and spiritual writer from Northumbria. During his lifetime, the abbey boasted hundreds of monks and lay brothers, because Aelred was known for his friendly and gentle demeanor, wise leadership, and healthy community. He had the ear of kings and bishops all over northern Europe. He preached charity, humility, chastity, and all kinds of other Christian virtues. In short, he was the very model of a respectable medieval churchman.

He was also Very Much In Love With Men, and he wrote a treatise called "Spiritual Friendship," which might be nicknamed "How To Be In Love With Men In A God-Honoring Way." I've read it. It's wonderful and timeless and also very, very gay. He was in love with men. In a gay way.

Fast forward to the year 1980. Up until this point, St. Aelred had been a somewhat obscure local English saint. And then a groundbreaking new book was published which challenged all conventional narratives surrounding the Church and queer people in the Middle Ages: Christianity, Social Tolerance and Homosexuality by John Boswell. Boswell wrote at some length about Aelred and his love for men, drawing on his other work besides "Spiritual Friendship" and situating him into what was actually something of a "golden age" of gay culture in western Europe. Yes, really.

Fast forward again to the year 1985. At the Episcopal Church's general convention that year, members of Integrity USA (the original LGBTQ advocacy org in TEC) campaigned to have St. Aelred added to the calendar of saints. The House of Bishops agreed, and they added him to the church calendar with full knowledge that Aelred was gay.

Aelred was also physically disabled, and he wrote about his Spiritual Friend becoming "my hand, my eye, the staff of my old age": in other words, his Spiritual Friend was his caretaker as his health declined near the end of his life (which was still quite short even for a medieval person). He also describes the pain of his Spiritual Friend's early death in a way that remains tender 800 years later. I will leave you to imagine why that might be spiritually relevant to a bunch of nice church gays in 1985.

Fast forward again to 2009. The conservative wing of the Church has had enough of TEC's bleeding-heart liberal reforms, so they secede from the union leave and establish their own church without any icky queers or women priests. St. Aelred had been an official Episcopal saint for 25 years at that point, and the newly-formed ACNA had to consciously, deliberately choose to remove him from their calendar of saints.

Fast forward again to earlier this summer. I start doing research into queer Christian history and queer saints. I realize that Aelred is conspicuously missing from the ACNA's calendar, so I look into the background and decide to get obnoxious about it on Instagram. Because this is VERY embarrassing for a church that claims to be the "real" Anglican Church in North America.

A selection of memes for your enjoyment:

#christianity #lgbtq #history #anglican #episcopalian

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risingsoleil · 4 days ago

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Can we hear more about teenage pregnancy linzin? 🥹

Lin and Tenzin are 16/17 when they find out they are going to be parents.

Their families are a bit disappointed in them due to their age, reckless actions, and not being married.

Oddly enough, the world is extremely supportive of this teen pregnancy. Of course, there are some press who paints Linzin as the "imperfect" children of Avatar Aang, Katara, and Toph Beifong.

Then there are the conservative and extremely traditional people who find it disgraceful.

But other than that, the White Lotus and acolytes are celebrating this.

"Master Tenzin and Master Beifong are reviving the Air Nation at such young ages! They are saving a dying nation! How responsible of them! Their bodies are also highly fertile. Imagine how many more airbenders they can bear in the future now that they are starting a family!"

Lin and Tenzin are so scared about having a kid. This was never part of the plan at all.

But they also never expected there to be a lot of support for the pregnancy. With the WL being supportive, they also provide extra protection to maintain privacy for Linzin and the family.

The younger acolytes are definitely jealous of the attention that Lin gets and how she's locking down Master Tenzin.

Lin connects with the much older female acolytes. Some of them have given birth and they're not as condescending and judgmental about motherhood. In fact, several of them were teen mothers themselves and offer their own advice and support to Lin that they never had at her age.

Lin and Tenzin's families keep them away from the public eye as much as possible for safety and because they just don't want extra attention.

It takes time for Katara and Aang to come to terms with this, but in the end, they love both Lin and Tenzin. They want what's best for them, and although they're not happy with the current situation, they will support Linzin.

Toph is...Lin can't read her well. Toph is happy that Lin isn't alone and will have Tenzin as her partner and father of child. She's proud that Lin will have a family with a decent kid, even if he's a nerd and dork. She's not the happiest that Lin got knocked up, but she knows that Lin and Tenzin will be able to care for a kid.

They're rich and have resources to raise a child well.

Tenzin still doesn't have his tattoos yet, and that idea is put on hold until the whole craze around pregnancy dies down. As Lin's belly grows, she continues to encourage Tenzin to get his tattoos. Partially this is so that he stops being extremely clingy and doting on her every second.

In the midst of getting Lin pregnant at 17, Tenzin feels like he's even more of a failure and not worthy of his tattoos.

"I'm a failure, Lin...I don't deserve my tattoos."

Lin guides Tenzin's hand on her belly and forces him to look her in the eyes.

"Tenzin, you've already mastered most if not all of the forms. And it's not about you knocking me up. Could we have been more careful? Of course. But that's the past now. What matters is what you do with your current circumstances."

Lin avoids his eyes for a moment, but smiles softly. "You trying to be a good father and partner tells me that you're more than worthy of getting your tattoos."

Tenzin wants to cry and he just hugs Lin, kissing her and nuzzling his face into her boobs lol

He speaks with Aang about his tattoos, and doesn't force the case about needing his arrows for validation.

Two weeks later, Aang tells Tenzin that he is ready for arrows.

Tenzin almost flies 20 feet in the air from joy. He hops and blurts out the exciting news to Oogi, and then he sprints in search of Lin to tell her.

"I told you. I dont know what you were so worried about," she says.

During his tattoo ceremony, Tenzin asks Lin to be there with him. She agrees.

When Tenzin could, he held onto Lin's hand and had his other hand placed over Lin's bump. Though the tattoos were painful, every so often, Tenzin felt kicks and thumps along the palm of his hands. Tears fell down his cheeks from happiness, rather than pain.

Suyin, being 10, at this time gets a bigger perspective and wake up call.

She hates that Lin is getting more attention from Toph, but her big sister becoming a mommy is also so fascinating. So, in this case, rather than Lin parenting Suyin, they bond over baby. Lin including Su throughout the pregnancy proves to be meaningful for them both.

Su avoids getting involved with triads. And Toph sees that Su sometimes bugs Lin lol so she spends more time with Su too.

Bumi and Kya tease Tenzin for probably knocking up Lin after lasting 30 seconds with her. But they are excited to become Uncle and Aunt.

In the middle of spring, Lin gives birth to a healthy baby girl.

Tenzin was with her throughout labor and delivery. Lin didn't ask, Tenzin just stayed by her side the entire time. Katara tried to kick him out, but he refused and LIn had an easier time bc of his support and strength.

They name her, Chesa. It's an old Air Nation (Tibetan) name that means "greatness" and refers to spiritual greatness.

To their surprise, she has vibrant blue eyes just like Katara. But Chesa has inherited the Beifong hair and the rest of Lin's features.

Whatever disappointment anyone in the family felt when they found out Lin and Tenzin would become teen parents...it immediately disappears once they lay eyes on Chesa Beifong.

Lin holds baby close to her heart, while Tenzin sits beside her on fresh bedding.

Tenzin holds Lin close and rests his arm beneath baby.

"She's perfect."

#linzin #lin beifong #tenzin #tlok #teen pregnancy au #this au turned out super wholesome

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pennyluna · 11 months ago

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Misunderstandings Part 1

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (18+) Wordcount: around 1.5k

Genre: New to working together au. Cold playboy au. Future something au.

WARNING: This story contains some bad words/strong language! Contains also spicy scenes, so please be aware before reading it.

It has been a week since my team started working with Yoongi, the week had been filled with meetings about coordination between the teams, some of the meetings were one on one basically so I could get a sense of what he expected from me during this 5 weeks, it was fairly easy to agree on the way we could handle things, starting from the fact that I would have to be available 24/7 just in case I was needed! I had been going home around 8pm every day and always kept my phone on me with the ringer.

Yoongi was going to be in the studio all day tomorrow, which meant I didn't have to go into the office so I decided to relax tonight, took a long shower, moisturized and did my relaxing ritual, put on a grey tank top, no bra and some shorts, wrapped my long wavy dark hair in a towel and walked to the kitchen.

I make sure the bottle of Sauvignon blank that I bought on my way home was cold and put out two wine glasses, one for me and one for my girl best friend Josie, she is on her way over so we can gossip and watch reality shows. Josie has been my best friend since middle school, fun fact her fiancé is also my best friend. Even bigger fun fact, I had been on a date with Zion when we were in college but we quickly agreed that a friendship was the thing for us, I introduced them during one of Josie's visits on campus and now 4 years later they are just a few months away from getting married.

I hear her emergency key to my apartment in the lock and start preparing the popcorn.

"Zion is driving me crazy!!" she says with an exasperated tone while closing the front door.

I laugh at her facial expression, she is going for annoyed but it looks cute on her.

"Hello to you too... what did he do now?"

"He keeps changing our funny dance for the wedding!"

"you mean your first dance?" I say with a confused face while pouring the wine and handing her a glass.

she takes a big sip "Nono, 'Cant help falling in love' is still our song but he saw online that people like doing some funny dance trend after and You know I'm not good at dancing."

Josie comes from a rich conservative family, she is very classy and polished, never late and never a hair out of place, so I was surprised when she told me she was in love with Zion, his style very much the opposite of her but both with a heart of gold.

I laugh at the thought of Josie dancing some TikTok challenge.

"Oh josie...you are a great dancer, just not with the new stuff!" i try to comfort her and we walk to the couch.

We are under the fluffy blankets watching our third episode of love island UK season 10, we had finished the USA one a couple of weeks ago. Suddenly my phone starts ringing, the word OFFICE written in the screen, I look at the time "11:34 pm". Josie and I look at each other with confusion in our faces, she pauses the show and I shake my head trying to shake the 2 glasses of wine off my system and then proceed to answer the call.

"Hello (Y/N), this is the security from the building, sorry for calling you so late, Mr. Min is here at the office trying to access the studio but he had left his keys inside and the other copy isㅡ"

"is in my bag!" I say simultaneously facepalming my face. "I will be there in 15 minutes" luckily I don't live far away from it.

Hanging up I rush to the room, put a pair of skinny jeans on, my classic vans and put my hair on a messy ponytail. The taxi Josie had called for me was here already so I rushed out of the door telling her I would be back soon.

7 minutes later I was in front of my building, greeted the security and proceeded to the 19th floor, were the studio is. Yoongi is waiting right in front of the elevator doors when they open and I get surprised to see him in his very relaxed outfit. Hair covering his gorgeous forehead, his phone in one hand and the other one in his pocket, his eyes rise up to meet mine and I smile at him. We start walking to the elevator, he is behind me and I don't know if its his presence or the wine but I feel my cheeks heating up and warmth running through me. I open the door for him and try to hand the keys to him.

"do you want to come in for a while?" he asks with a blank expression.

"mmm sure." dammit, I am supposed to be just dropping the keys off.

I walk past him and he closes the door behind us. Its a normal studio, with little touches of him, a couple of basketball gadgets and some posters, a couch with some pretty purple cushions and a blanket, he had made it his own.

"would you like some more wine?" his question takes my attention out of looking around his studio.

"mmm sure. thank you. Waitㅡ 'more'?" my face expressing my confusion.

He has a small smile on his face while pouring me a glass "yeah, more! I noticed you have a slight scent of wine on you, so you must have been drinking some before coming here".

aww, he was smelling meㅡ Stop. waitㅡ oh my god did that mean I smell of alcohol?. oh God, that's not very professional.

"hey, its not a problem you know. I like wine, so you know... you smell good" his words snapping me out of my small mental freak out. "plus, you weren't even supposed to be coming here so don't worry about it." he hands me the glass of wine.

We've been seated on his couch and talking casually about the things we like and our passions for a couple of hours now, I feel really comfortable around him and he seems comfortable around me! He said something funny and I pushed his leg in a jokingly manner but when I tried to retrieve my hand he grabbed it pulling me closer to him, we stopped laughing suddenly and stared into each others eyes, he bit his bottom lip and shacked his head no subtly, like if he was shaking away a thought. His eyes started roaming my frame and My heartbeat accelerated once I noticed where his gaze had stopped.

My nipples were hard and he could see their outline through my tank top. Shit!!! I didn't put on bra. I should say goodnight and walk away but why aren't my legs moving?! I feel warmth spreading through my thighs.

"It's late!" He suddenly gets up and it startles me. "Maybe you should go home!"

"huh? maybe you should go home!" I say with defiance, -why cant i just shut up-.

"(Y/N)!" -my name sounds so good in his voice- "You are drunk and I'm afraid you will regret any decision we take after this point!"

He is making sense, he has a point, plus we are working together, we need to maintain a professional relationship so I get up and start walking past him and towards the door, I say goodbye and walk to the elevator. Pressing the button to call the elevator I realize that my keycard to leave the building is in my bag with my phone and my house keys -damm it- I walk back to the studio where Yoongi hadn't closed the door yet for some reason and when his eyes reached mine, I swear there was a little hope in them. I walked past him again and grabbed my bag then turned around to wave goodbye.

He stayed still for a while, like contemplating what to do, he raised his hand to wave back but he seemed hesitant. I started to walk to the door when suddenly he grabbed my wrist. I stopped breathing for a second and my heart started beating faster.

"Maybe you should stay!" he says softly. while pulling me towards him until my chest is flat against his. I can feel his breath on my face. A hint of whiskey on it.

"Maybe you should stay too!"

He smiles at my statement and that seemed to be all the permission he needed because his hand started to travel from my waist to my breast while the other one held my chin up while he watched me and the kisses me.

It was gentle at first and then became passionate, one of those kisses that take your breath away and make you dizzy. He kissed like I belonged to him, like no one had kissed me before and I was loving it.

His hand move to the front of my jeans and start undoing the buttons, his mouth now trailing my neck. my jeans come off and we move around, he leans my ass against his desk and starts trailing wet kisses from my neck down. He sucks my nipples through the tank top and starts rubbing my core.

"so wet for me already huh?" I moan and put my hands on the desk to balance myself a bit. His mouth trails down my body until I can feel his warm breath on top of my core, his fingers slowly move my panties to the side and the he assaults my clit with his mouth. -so much talent in that mouth-.

Yoongi's tongue is all over my clit and I feel my orgasm building. I cant control my moans and thank god this place is soundproof. He starts alternating between tongue fucking me and playing with my clit and I am almost at my high. The minute his hand grabs my hips to keep me still I cant control myself any longer and come. "Good girl! You taste amazing". he smirks.

"My turn!!" I smile at him and fall to my knees, looking up at him and holding the eye contact I start lowering his sweatpants. I was surprised to notice he wasn't wearing any underwear and his erection almost smacked my face when it came out of his pants!

I start holding his dick and licking the tip of it, he exhales a shaky breath and I slowly introduce his erection in my mouth. Starting to suck in and out of my mouth at first slowly and then increasing my pace, I cup his balls in my hand and then continue to suck him off at a fast pace! he is moaning and throwing his head back and I can feel it wont take him long before reaching his orgasm! I slow down my pace to tease him a little and we make eye contact again, he seems hungry for me, he wants me.

"Get up!" after taking the rest of his clothes off, he helps me get up and he takes my tank top and underwear then stares at my body for a second, I can see hunger in those eyes, hunger for me. I can see he cant decide on what to play with first. "Bend over my desk!" he commands -I guess he decided where to start- my boobs are now pressed flat against his desk, it is cold and I feel my nipples hardening.

His hands start caressing my ass and touching my clit "You are a sight. I've been wanting to bend you over my desk ever since the first day when you gave us that building tour" he says and I instantly moaned out of neediness, I need him inside of me now!.

"YOONGIㅡ"

"My god I love how you say my name... keep saying it princess!" -fuuck I want to come again so bad- he continues touching me and then I fill his hand get to the back of my neck pinning me to the desk and his other hand rubbing his dick around my folds.

"Yoongi, I needㅡ" he shut me up with his dick entering me hard, I moaned loudly and he waited a second to let me adjust then started pumping into me hard and at a fast pace. I became a moaning mess and my orgasm started building again, he used his free had to spank my ass and I moaned again, my eyes got teary but I was enjoying this. I was enjoying being fucked senseless. I enjoyed the pain mixed with pleasure that he was giving me. I needed it. After all, it had been almost two years since the last time I had sex.

I notice his pace getting faster and faster "Come for me princess! I want you to come!" he says with a commanding voice. Our orgasms hit us couple of seconds later, his seed all over my lower back!

We are both panting. He takes a second to clean me up, then opens a drawer grabbing a t-shirt from it and giving it to me. We sit on the couch to rest for a bit he kisses my forehead and suddenly the exhaustion and the wine get to me and I fall asleep in his arms!

I wake up the day after with a strong headache, I feel around for my phone that should be on my bedside table but then open my eyes to realize I'm still on the couch in the studio. Yoongi isn't in the couch anymore so I look around and see him working at his desk on the computer. I breathe a sight of relief. I reach for my jeans put them on and then walk towards him.

"Your bag and keys are by the piano" eyes fixed to the screen and monotone voice.

"Thanks!" I say hesitant about what to do next. "Would youㅡ" he cuts me off.

"I will see you at the meeting this afternoon." This time his voice sounds annoyed and dismissive. A bad feeling downs on me.

I grab my things and once I'm at the door I look back, expecting him to at least look at me before I go but nothing. -He regrets it- that thought hurt, more than my headache!

While waiting for my taxi I realized that its 6am, that I had left Josie at home waiting for me and that I had royally fucked up by sleeping with the VIP, that he seemed to regret it to the point of not being able to look at me and that the meeting where I will have to see him in a few hours will be hard.

A.N: This is part 1 of this story, Hope you can enjoy it. Please if you want, read the prologue of this story too. I am not clear on how many parts it will have but hopefully many more, I have already mapped out how the story will continue but publishing it depends on the readers request.

A.N 2: any feedback would be appreciated! Likes and conditions are appreciated too! Please do not copy my work and give credit if reshared!

#bangtan #bts yoongi #fanfiction #bts army #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts suga #bts smut #bts scenarios #armysource #btsedit #btsgif

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ticklystuff · 2 months ago

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Day 18: Clothes

a/n: ler!zhongli, lee!childe — from the lovelytickletober list!

the woman off to the side is actually me

———

"I'm not wearing that!"

This was not going as planned, much to Zhongli's chagrin. Each article of clothing he had picked out specifically because of how nice he imagined Ajax would look in them were all being outright rejected by the very person they were meant for, which was disappointing, if he had to admit, as the complete outfit would complement Ajax's quite handsomely, while also bringing out a more mature look in terms of visuals.

"Well, what do you suppose we do then?" Zhongli tempered his tone, disallowing his aggravations to get the better of him.

"We?" Ajax folded his arms. "I'm the one that's going to Fontaine, not you xiansheng. I don't want to walk around in stuffy clothes all day."

"Fontanians take fashion quite seriously. Your current outfit," Zhongli paused, his mind wordsmithing a way to put things as politely as possible, "might draw attention in a negative sense."

"Oh? What's wrong with my clothes? It was just fine when I arrived in Liyue."

Oh, it most certainly was not.

"Besides," Ajax continued, "I don't really care what people think of me. It's supposed to be a fun trip with Teucer, anyway."

Ah, Ajax, your headstrong attitude has been and always will be a blessing, as well as a pain in the rear. "Ajax, I insist that you listen to me on this."

"It's not a big deal, xiansheng," the other rolled his eyes, hands motioning to his outfit. "What's the issue? Tell me."

In all honesty, there really wasn't one, but was he really going to let his partner walk into the fashion capital in his current state?

"Ah, well, the monotone shade of grey can be a bit.. unflattering to they eyes," Zhongli held his tongue, waiting for Ajax's reaction.

"That's it?" His expression morphed into condescending amusement. "Xiansheng, that's purely subjective."

"There's also the mask you wear," Zhongli mentioned. "The Fatui are a controversial group right now. You're announcing your association by simply adorning the headpiece."

Ajax shrugged his shoulders, unmoved by the critique. "Then I'll remove my mask? It just sounds like you're nitpicking at this point."

And the longer this went on, the more Zhongli was actually inclined to agree, but Ajax could be convinced with just a little push, Zhongli knew this well. His gaze shifted back and forth, mind running for a potential opening, until his eyes settled on a potential solution he could leverage.

"Fontanians are quite conservative when it comes to outfitting themselves," Zhongli started, slowly approaching Ajax as he spoke, "and I'm afraid this here," his hand landing right where Ajax's stomach peeked out from under his jacket, "might draw some unnecessary attention."

It was like there was a complete one-eighty in Childe's demeanor, a shift that the older man expected to play out as it usually does, but always brought him a little bit of amusement. "That's.." Childe grumbled, unable to refute the reasoning presented to him. "I-It's still not a big deal!"

"But it could be," he couldn't help but muse, wiggling his fingers over the exposed area.

"H-Hey, cuhut it out!" Childe snickered, taking a step back, only for Zhongli to match his movements with a step forward. "N-No ohohone's gonna t-tihihickle mehehe!"

"Are we sure?"

"Xihahangsheheng!" Childe cried out, now trapped by both of Zhongli's hands holding his sides, unable to wiggle away from the hand that snuck through that tiny slit in his jacket, as if the opening was precisely made specifically for Zhongli's hand to slip through, gently teasing the delicate skin underneath. "F-Fine, okahahay! I'll wehehehear the clohohothes!"

"Glad you finally came around," Zhongli chuckled, removing his hand from the giggly Ajax to ruffle his red hair, a small smile tugging at his lips in response to the scowl that he most likely deserved. "Now, don't worry, you'll look fantastic with your new clothes."

#chili #childe #zhongli #genshin impact #tickling #lovelytickletober #tickletober #q

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mostlycorrectdipandpip · 5 months ago

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Let's talk about dnptwt

Ok, I created this little shit-posting blog to connect with other phannies and get back into this comfy little fandom. Along with this, I started connecting with dnptwt on my main account. I don't like getting involved in drama, especially when it revolves around blatant racisim, homophobia, transphobia, genocide sympathizers, etc, but I feel like it needs to be said here. I am only going to speak on this once, but if you have questions on my experience or just want to call me out, feel free to message or anonymously inbox me, that is your right as I am posting this openly and publicly.

Dnptwt is NOT a safe place. I genuinely believe that the internet is not a safe place. I wish that it was because access to the internet has become so common and widespread. People can connect on so many levels and share their experiences, but EVERYONE can do it. Republican, democrat, gay, straight, conversative, liberal. EVERYONE. But, over the last few months, dnptwt has become so negative and toxic. Every day someone is being called out for their behavior and, many times, the calling out is warranted. They have said or done something that they need to be called out on. It's the aftermath and the snowballing afterwards that has gotten out of hand.

I am a very positive person. I believe that everyone, at anytime in their lives, can learn and grow and change. We are constantly learning new things and having new experiences. When people say something hateful or negative or they participate in something bad or that you don't agree with, you have every right to call them out on it. Point out the hateful and negative behavior, but just because someone does or says something doesn't mean that they are irredeemable. Spitting hateful rhetoric and being hateful towards people is the exact kind of thing that we want to stop and correct. So when you call someone out for something, call them out and see if they take the initiative to learn or change before you start an unyielding bullying campaign against them. You can choose how you react to that person, if you believe them, and if you want to continue to interact with them. That is your right as a social media user. But to start a campaign where you tell everyone that someone is disgusting and irredeemable before giving them a chance to reflect, relearn, and respond is absolutely crazy.

At the end of the day, what I am trying to say is that in order for people to grow, they need to learn. In order for someone to genuinely apologize, they need to learn what they have done wrong and find it in themselves to change, but this isn't something that someone can do overnight. And it isn't something someone can do while they are being attacked from all sides. Sometimes all it takes is for someone to say how they feel and why it makes them feel that way for someone to realize that they have made a mistake.

I'll call myself out for y'all to get what I mean. I grew up in a very conservative household. I grew up in a household that sprayed hateful rhetoric and had terribly homophobic and racist beliefs. It wasn't until someone in middle school called me out for it. It wasn't nice or sugar coated, just a direct interaction. I dealt with some fallout for sure, but over the rest of that year, I took the opportunity to learn and change how I acted, how I talked, and how I spoke to my classmates and I was able to repair alot of burned bridges and become a more well rounded person.

I fear everyday that the hate I used to spread and the negativity I once had will come back to bite me. I would have to answer for those actions, and I would, and I would have to prove to people that I have changed (and I have). But with the kind of environment that dnptwt has become, I would be shunned, shamed, categorized and irredeemable, and tossed to the side without being able to reflect, relearn, and respond.

This environment is unacceptable. And it is something that I will no longer be taking part in. Give people the space to be wrong, to fail, and to make right.

Just getting this out has helped me feel a little bit better, am I am sure that this will end up on dnptwt and I'll get doused in their hate and vitriol, but to stand silent and watch more and more people who just need some time to get educated and learn would have made me feel so bad. I'm taking some time to reflect on my own actions and time spent on twitter, learn about ways that I can better use my time and energy, and will respond again if I feel it necessary, but I think I've said my piece.

#dan and phil #phil lester #amazingphil #daniel howell #dan howell #danandphilgames #danisnotonfire #dnpgames #philip lester #dnpg #phan #phantwt #dnptwt #twitter #phannies

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

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AITA for distancing myself from my partner?

I, (17NB) and my partner (17NB) had a rough year. Thier family is super religious, and so is the place we live in, and we've had many fears about being outed. My family is less religious and I mostly raise myself so admittedly he's a lot more paranoid, and rightfully so I'd say. But ever since we've started dating I've had to ask them multiple times to improve thier communication.

To start off, I wish they were upfront, or atleast more firm about us breaking up, atleast in the first year. That wouldve solved a lot of heartbreak if they didn't want to be with me.

They dodged the question of physical intimacy of literally anything more than holding hands or cuddling multiple times, and yet mentioned they were ace offhandedly to a friend instead of giving me a straight answer (which I wouldve been fine with, I just wish they told me.) They tend to get angry quite easily and resort to snappish/ short answers, and, especially since them having a conversation with thier mom questioning thier sexuality, tend to abhor the smallest inkling of physical contact or sign that we're together, even if we're around friends who know, or alone.

After the conversation with thier mom, they asked to break up, but i basically pleaded for another chance and they agreed. I know it's my own fault at some point for beating a dead horse, but I recently had a conversation that kind of snapped the rose-tinted glasses right off.

We were discussing our futures, and there's a somber agreement neither of us will see each other again after school. Thats not what I'm upset about. They described having kids in a hetero marriage and joking to thier kids about the "wild" stuff they got up to in highschool like experimenting in a queer relationship, basically saying our entire 3 years of dating was a fluke or joke or experiment.

I realised this was the straw that broke the camel's back, they didn't really initiate or seem as eager as me about the sparse times we could go out alone together, they gave me a half finished craft I had to sew myself while I gave a painting for valentine's day, and various examples of bad communication. They're a good friend, I'm not so sure about partner.

So, I'm kinda trying to stop this year. I stopped frantically calling in school and rearranging lessons to be with them, I didnt spam text or think about making any gifts so far, I asked to have a..spicy experience with a friend or two (that my partner agreed with me doing). In my head I guess I told myself that we might call ourselves partners but the word just lost its meaning for us both.

So far, it's okay. It hurts, because it seems more like we're just friends instead of dating, but I want to focus on myself and my studies to get out of our really conservative area. Still, I feel guilty and a little resentful. I know I should've just accepted breaking up, but we're kinda codependant. They and I both know we can't be without each other.

They love me so much, I know that. They've done so so much for me and dragged me out of a horrible place pretty much single-handedly, they're just not great at communicating or emotional maturity. Also, they seem to think queer people go to hell in some self-imposed notion of religious guilt, and when I express resentment towards religions that push homophobia on thier followers they seem weirdly defensive of it.

For context, I have BPD (my partner has, for a long time being my 'favourite person') and what I'm reluctant to call "severe" trauma but it's been described as that. I'm genuinly curious to know if this is a result of some upbringing-induced overreaction or if its okay to just kinda give up on my own relationship. Yes, I'm aware that the best thing would be to break up but I dont think I could ever leave them, for some stupid reason.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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thelittlestladylikesthis · 4 months ago

Text

The Pink Rose, part 5

Part Five- July 7th, 74 ADD

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader

Word count: 2,119

Warnings: heterosexual relationship, light smut, fluff, reference to violence, arguing

It had been three days since [Y/n] and Haymitch had accompanied their tributes to the Capitol. Three days since Haymitch’s bad first impression had potentially revealed what the tributes were capable of. [Y/n] sat staring at her plate of eggs, toast, and bacon. She had a notebook and pen for notes as she listened to Haymitch explain the importance of the training days and knowing what their skills are.

As in most things, Katniss was conservative about her skills. Peeta emphasized how good of a shot she was with a bow and arrow. Katniss responds by mentioning Peeta could throw hundred pound bags of flour and that he knows how to wrestle.

“What use is that? How many times have you seen someone wrestle someone to death?” Peeta said with a grimace.

Katniss shot back with an angry tone, “There’s always hand-to-hand combat. All you need is to come up with a knife, and you’ll at least stand a chance. If I get jumped, I’m dead!”

“But you won’t! You’ll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows. You know what my mother said to me when she came to say good-bye, as if to cheer me up, she says maybe District Twelve will finally have a winner. Then I realized, she didn’t mean me, she meant you!” Peeta shouted.

“Oh, she meant you,” Katniss dismissed.

“She said, ‘She’s a survivor, that one.’She is,” Peeta said quietly.

The room stood still. [Y/n] felt her heart drop and an instant dislike of Mrs. Mellark. Who in Panem tells their own child they’re going to die after being selected in a reaping. The farewell opportunity is a time to wish for their safety and build them up. That bitch tore him down- she berated her son for someone else’s daughter.

After Peeta and Katniss calm down, Haymitch hesitantly restarts the conversation and insists that they spend their training days learning a new skill and under no circumstances showing the other tributes what they’re capable of- to save that for the Gamemakers.

“One last thing. In public, I want you by each other’s side every minute,” says Haymitch. The two teens start to object before Haymitch makes everyone jump by slamming his hand on the table, “Every minute! It’s not open for discussion! You agreed to do as I said! You will be together, you will appear amiable to each other. Now get out. Meet Effie at the elevator at ten for training.”

The two of them left the room and the sound of Katniss’ bedroom slamming echoed through their quarters.

“You’re not doing yourself any favors in her eyes,” [Y/n] said.

“I’m not here to be her friend, I don’t even want to be a mentor. But since she threw a knife and you’re more invested in what you see, I’m willing to play along,” Haymitch explained., “What are you doing?”

[Y/n] looked at him out the side of her eye and saw he was referring to her notes, “I’m writing what I know. I’m trying to see what I can confidently say or twist for the sponsors. But I need to be careful,”

“Careful? I think you mean ruthless,”

“No. Careful. The deepest pockets always want something in return. I also need to remember who I have dirt on,”

“You sound like Finnick Odair,”

“Not necessarily a bad thing in this scenario. He’s good at getting sponsors and since we’re good friends, it might be entertaining to see who we can snag this year,” [Y/n] smirked.

Haymitch chuckled in unison. The idea of pulling a fast one on some of the other tributes was an entertaining thought. He didn’t realize how fast time had gone until Peeta and Katniss emerged from their rooms, ready to go find Effie.

Once they were truly alone, Haymitch rose from his chair to stand behind [Y/n]’s chair, “You should really loosen up Sweetheart,” Haymitch whispers as he starts to rub [Y/n]’s neck and shoulders. As excitable as having beloved tributes is, it is almost more stressful than having tributes who fly under the radar. [Y/n] gave a quiet moan of pleasure as Haymitch somehow gave an excellent shoulder massage. His strong, rough fingers ran up and down the stiff muscles in her shoulders, attempting to break up the solid tension that had built there. Suddenly, Haymitch’s hands slowly made their way over her shoulders and over the front of her dress. In the same instant, his lips rest just under her jawbone. He began to kiss her neck with enthusiasm; lightly sucking the skin and running the tip of his tongue over the same spot. [Y/n] felt a shiver run through her body. The heat where he kissed her neck resonated through her torso and went down between her legs. The burn increased as his hands cupped her breasts and found their way under the fabric.

Haymitch whispered against her skin, “It’s been a while since we tried this,”

[Y/n] responded with soft chuckle, “It’s been less than three days,”

“Less than three days too long,” he whispered as hands massaged her breasts.

[Y/n] reached around and ran her fingers into his curls. Her back began to arch as Haymitch circled her nipples with his thumb. His lips left her skin and he trailed his nose up until she felt his warm breath on her ear, “I wanna take you on this table,” he growled. [Y/n] melted at the sound of his lowered voice.

“This better not become a regular occurrence!” a familiar voice trilled prompting [Y/n] and Haymitch to immediately separate. Effie quickly walked across the room muttering quietly, “You’d think they own the place!”

[Y/n] stood up and placed one hand on Haymitch’s chest, “She’s right, we really should be more careful,”

“We still have an hour to be careful,” Haymitch said as he scooped her up.

“Haymitch!” [Y/n] squealed as he quickly headed towards his bedroom.

“At least be quiet!” Effie yelled from the other room.

* * *

After six days in the Capitol, six days of [Y/n] schmoozing sponsors, mediating conversations between Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta, and having a few short interviews with Caesar Flickerman, came private session day. The day where Katniss and Peeta show what they can do. The sessions started after lunch, but Katniss and Peeta would go last since they were from District 12. [Y/n] remembered how infuriating that was. If you were from 12, it was likely that the Gamemakers had indulged themselves on food and drink by the time it was your turn. They were either drunk, tired, or passed out after watching over 20 other demonstrations.

Effie and Haymitch were engaged in a conversation about the sponsors they’d already gained when Cinna and Portia got off the elevator. It was almost dinner time and they’d want to be hearing about how the sessions went. After about 20 minutes, Peeta got off the elevator and walked to his room to change clothes. Roughly 15 minutes later, Katniss burst out of the elevator and nearly sprinted to her room. Effie, Haymitch, and Portia call after her from the sitting room, but she doesn’t stop. Peeta was in the hall when she passed him, “Hey, was she crying?” he asked with concern. [Y/n] and Effie tried to get Katniss to open the door, but she just yelled for them to go away.

Effie tried again at dinner time and this time returned with Katniss. Katniss avoided eye contact with everyone, including Cinna and [Y/n]. After a few minutes of small talk, the Avoxes bring dinner to the table and Haymitch starts:

“Okay, enough small talk, just how bad were you today?” [Y/n] rolled her eyes and gave him a look of utter disbelief.

Before Katniss could respond, Peeta said, ““I don’t know that it mattered. By the time I showed up, no one even bothered to look at me. They were singing some kind of drinking song, I think. So, I threw around some heavy objects until they told me I could go.”

“Figures,” scoffed [Y/n].

Cinna shook his head in disappointment, “If they’re going to send them all into the same arena, they could at least afford the same attention instead of acting like that,”

“And you, sweetheart?” asked Haymitch.

Katniss’ eyes remained on her empty plate, “I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers,” the room silenced immediately.

“You what?” Effie yelled angrily, face draped in uncharacteristic horror.

“I shot an arrow at them. Not exactly at them. In their direction. It’s like Peeta said, I was shooting and they were ignoring me and I just ... I just lost my head, so I shot an apple out of their stupid roast pig’s mouth!” Katniss said with a matter of fact tone of defiance.

“Are you crazy?” Effie almost yelled and saw Haymitch looking at her with a smirk, “I don’t think we’re going to find this funny if-”

“If what?” Haymitch interjected, “If they decide to punish someone?” he gestured to Katniss and Peeta with one hand and himself and [Y/n] with the other, “I think they already have, loosen your corset, have a drink,”

Cinna turned back to Katniss and carefully asked, “And what did they say?”

“Nothing. Or I don’t know. I walked out after that,” she responded

“Without being dismissed?” [Y/n] probed

“I dismissed myself,”

“Are you crazy?!” Effie trilled.

Haymitch ripped off a hunk of meat from his pork chop and leaned over to take a bite before stopping and chuckling,”What were their faces like?”

[Y/n] could see the twitch of a smile on the edges of Katniss’ mouth, “Shocked. Terrified. Uh, ridiculous, some of them. One man tripped backward into a bowl of punch.”

Everyone but Effie burst into a fit laughter. Haymitch even looked as if he were going to cry. [Y/n] had not had a laugh that good in a long while.

Effie looked as if she were trying to avoid smiling, “Well, it serves them right. It’s their job to pay attention to you. And just because you come from District Twelve is no excuse to ignore you, that’s what I think,”

“I’ll get a very bad score,” the smile slowly fell from Katniss’ face.

“Scores only matter if they’re very good, no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones,” Portia chipped in.

“For all they know, you could be hiding your talents to get a low score on purpose. People use that strategy all the time,” [Y/n] said with a reassuring smile.

[Y/n] turned her attempt at motherly reassurance to Peeta as he followed her with, “I hope that’s how people interpret the four I’ll probably get… if that,”

After dinner, the group settles in the sitting room to watch the scores be announced on television. A photo of the tribute appears on the screen and after they’ve been introduced, their score appears below them. The Career Tributes all score between 8 and 10. Most others score around 5. [Y/n] reminds Peeta and Katniss that this is normal. Then remembers most District 12 tributes generally score 4-6 and hopes that Katniss and Peeta don’t remember that.

Twenty-two tributes go across the screen when they finally see Peeta. The group celebrates while Peeta comes to terms with his score of 8. Katniss remained stoic in her seat, radiating anxiety before her number flashes underneath her picture:

“Eleven!” Effie squeals.

Cinna and Portia cheer and congratulate her. [Y/n] and Haymitch excitedly give each other a hug and then join the congratulations.

Katniss is still in disbelief, “There must be a mistake. How ... how could that happen?”

“I guess they liked your guts,” Haymitch said.

“They’ve got a show to put on. They need some players with heat.” [Y/n] added.

“Katniss, the girl who was on fire,” says Cinna, “Oh, wait until you see your interview

dress.”

“More flames?” Katniss asked

“Of a sort,” he chuckled mischievously.

The group wrapped up the congratulations, discussed their schedules for tomorrow, and headed off to their rooms.

Back in his room and uncharacteristically brushing his teeth before bed, Haymitch felt a pair of arms wrap around him. He looked down and recognized the carefully manicured hands of [Y/n].

“Hey there, sweetheart,”

[Y/n] nuzzled her forehead between his shoulder blades, “Do you think they can do it?”

“Well I know you don’t mean ‘can they both win’. So, do what?”

“Work together. Can one of them overcome this?”

“I guess we’ll see. There’s something there in both of them,”

Masterlist

#hunger games fanfic #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch x oc #the hunger games au #thg haymitch #hunger games smut #haymitch abernathy smut

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