#daft core

[rivusapoems]

like or reblog if u save !

[popart-vvv]

I Made a TADC-Core Playlist

I'm a huge music geek, if the header on my page didn't indicate it truly. I've also really been into The Amazing Digital Circus lately, and as it so happened, I began imagining the story and characters of the show playing out according to the lyrics of some of my favorite songs. I compiled a list of TADC-coded songs, and here it is.

I'm open to feedback and analyses as long as they're relevant to matching the lyrics and the show. Otherwise, enjoy!

Also, let me take a moment to share two whole albums that I think go very well with the show as we know of it so far.

[cmx1000]

This was a Gap commercial in 2001. It showed Juliette Lewis dancing with Daft Punk to their track Digital Love.

[music-moon]

My most played albums released in the year 2013

Beyoncé - BEYONCÉ

Lorde - Pure Heroine

Daft Punk - Random Access Memories

Arctic Monkeys - AM

John Mayer - Paradise Valley

Kanye West - Yeezus

Childish Gambino - Because the Internet

Watsky - Cardboard Castles

Janelle Monáe - The Electric Lady

Jillette Johnson - Water in a Whale

Data from last.fm + fmbot.

2000 / 2001 / 2002 / 2003 / 2004 / 2005 / 2006 / 2007 / 2008 / 2009 / 2010 / 2011 / 2012 / 2013 / 2014 / 2015 / 2016 / 2017 / 2018 / 2019 / 2020 / 2021 / 2022 / 2023 / 2024 / 2025

[lumpyflakycum]

ClownCore are DaftPunk if they fucked

[konigsblog]

perverted touch.

pairing: simon riley x afab!f!reader.

warnings: authority kink, corruption, choking, sub!reader, dom!ghost, thigh fucking. MDNI 18+

;your lieutenant can't keep his hands to himself any longer.

simon riley knows it's forbidden to fall for a recruit; to have a relationship with a teammate in the military. but he couldn't help himself. your eagerness and how zealous you are, desperate to please him, it all left his head spinning, feeling as if he had control over your emotions, depending on whether he complimented your skills that day or not. he wanted nothing more but to ridicule and humiliate you for being so needy for his validation and affection, in front of everyone if he could.

each thrust feels like heaven for poor you. your jaw is slack, an attempt to catch your breath as your breathing quickens rapidly, the ticklish and slick sensation of simon's tip rubbing against your sensitive clit caused tears to pool in your glossy waterline. simon's hand wraps around your neck, his thrusts quickening, with anticipation and thrill causing your cunt to drool with excitement and euphoria.

“such a daft, little thing’, yeah? so desperate for my attention, ain‘cha?” simon grumbles, a quiet chuckle emitting from him. he rocks his broad hips back and forth, still somewhat clothed while you're stripped down bare and humiliated for being so attention deprived. you cry weakly at the pleasure, unable to explain or answer back to simon. although simon is interested in an excuse for your depravity, he's more intrigued by the sounds of your euphoria, the waves of pleasure rushing through you.

you can hear the wetness and stickiness between your thighs, leaving your knees weak as your core tightens at your orgasm, pearly and glossy droplets of your sweet release rushing down your thighs, with your cheeks wet from your tears and your voice strained from the tightness of simon's grip on your neck.

“tha’s right, just a little’ doll f’me to use-- attagirl.” he slaps your tight rear suddenly, watching it bounce slightly, your mewls and cries laughable. he thrusts between your thighs, using your stickiness as lube to rut against you with ease while moaning and groaning beside your ear, preparing himself to shoot ropes of his thick load all over your cunny, to coat you in his milky cream.

you're left breathless and panting like a mutt, forced to lick the globs of his white release that landed on the floor, to satisfy his craving of humiliating you.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Melt with You

Pairing: Billy Taylor (The Halcyon) x f!reader Warnings: Smut, oral sex (m receiving) Word count: ~3k

Summary: Snowed in at the Halcyon, Billy and his girlfriend have to find ways to keep themselves occupied. Can be read as a second part to Sweeter Than This, but also works as a standalone.

Author's note: Day three of Smuffmas - blizzard and blow job. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She has had a spring in her step all day long. From the moment she stepped out of her front door that morning, and felt the first chilly flakes of snowfall upon her cheeks, to the beds she has stripped throughout the day, she hasn’t been able to shift the smile from her face, or the excited flutters from her belly – she has the house to herself this evening, and Billy is coming over.

From the moment her and Billy’s relationship had progressed from friends to something more, they had struggled to find alone time together. With Billy kept busy on the anti aircraft guns down at the army barracks, and her working long shifts at the Halcyon, finding a free moment was almost impossible. Their living situations didn’t help matters either; both lived with their mums. On the occasions when Peggy would work a night shift on the hotel switchboard, she would go over to Billy’s, but their evenings together usually consisted of looking after his little sister.

When things grew heated between them, it was always a stolen moment on a break in one of the rooms she had yet to turn down. They had never spent a full night together, and still hadn’t had sex, though after six months of courting, she wasn’t sure she was quite ready for that. Her mind often wandered to the first time he had brought her to peak on his tongue, the memory making her core throb with want and her skin grow heated. Billy had done it twice more since then, and she was eager to make him feel just as good without going all the way. She just didn’t know how.

It had been Kate who had suggested she return the favour. “You know you can use your mouth on him too?” she’d suggested as they had been folding clean sheets and towels.

She’d felt her cheeks blaze with embarrassment as her eyes had widened. “You mean…put his…his thing in my mouth?!”

Kate had laughed, playfully flicking a pillowcase at her. “You needn’t act so bloody daft, you seem quite happy to be on the receiving end.”

She sighed, her hands pausing mid fold and looked shyly up at her fellow maid. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t know how. What if I get it wrong and he laughs at me?”

“Billy? Laugh at you?” she had scoffed, “he would never. He’ll think all of his Christmases have come at once. It’s called a ‘blow job’.”

“How do you know so much about it?”

“I was seeing a fella who’s a pilot. He taught me how. I can tell you how to do it, if you want?”

She had chewed her lip anxiously, the very idea of discussing something so intimate made her incredibly embarrassed, but at the same time she was curious, and if she was going to do this for Billy, she wanted to make sure she did it right. Finally, she had nodded her assent and for the next twenty minutes the pair of them had giggled and spoken in hushed whispers as Kate had explained precisely what she did when orally pleasing a man.

Tonight, she was planning to put what she had learned into practice. Her mum was working a night shift at the factory, Billy had the night off from the barracks, and Peggy wasn’t working the Halcyon’s switchboard, meaning he wouldn’t be needed to babysit. She was due to finish her shift at 6pm, then Billy would meet her in the hotel lobby and they would walk back to hers. An entire evening together, she couldn’t wait.

She was jittery with excitement by the time she finished for the day, her hands shook as she changed out of her black and white maid’s uniform and into a green, collared dress with an A-line skirt. Kate had let her borrow her expensive Elizabeth Arden lipstick in the shade ‘Montezuma red’, stating “you want his attention to be drawn to your lips, trust me”. She applied a liberal coat to her lips, taken aback by how the bright crimson did indeed draw all attention to her mouth as she stared in the mirror.

She hurried from the staff room in the back, her coat and bag slung over her arm, before she could give herself the chance to change her mind and wipe it all off.

Billy was sitting in one of the foyer's plush leather armchairs as she walked out, and her face lit up the moment she saw him, a wide smile spreading across her face. He was out of his uniform too, having swapped his olive green jacket and trousers for a white collared shirt beneath a grey woolen jumper and brown slacks. His hair was slicked back with Brylcreem, though a few strands had fallen loose around his temples. He looked so handsome, and it was nice that for once they could just be themselves together; her and Billy, not the maid and the soldier.

His jaw fell agape as he finally turned to look at her, his eyes travelling from her head to her toes and back again, before he stood to greet her. “Wow…you look…wow.”

She giggled, glad she stuck with the lipstick as she watched him flush a deep shade of pink. “Ready to get out of here?” she asked, “I know I am.”

He nodded, grabbing his coat from the arm of the chair as she started to put her own on. “Yeah, might have to mind how we go though,” he gestured towards the bottoms of his trousers, which she could now see were damp, “snow was coming down pretty heavy when I walked here an hour ago.”

“You got here an hour ago?” She asked with a playful smile.

Billy busied himself with putting his coat on, an attempt to hide his embarrassment. “Was excited to see ya.”

She’s about to respond, to tell him how sweet he is, when the hotel’s chief concierge, Feldman, walks in from outside, his footsteps clicking against the polished floors. He dusts white flakes from the lapels of his jacket as he walks, stopping when he sees them both. 

“You’re not both going out in that, are you?” He asks, a look of genuine concern causing his brows to pinch together.

She nods. “Billy’s gonna walk me home.”

“In this weather?” Feldman says, “I hardly think so.”

“Just a bit of snow, Mr. Feldman,” Billy retorts, “we’ll be alright.”

“Look outside,” the chief concierge tells them, gesturing towards the doors, “there’s a blizzard. We’ve had three no shows already because of it.”

She hurries towards the main doors of the hotel, struggling to push them open against the force of the wind. Peering out, she can see a thick blanket of white covering the entire street, too thick to drive safely in, let alone walk. The wind howls, ushering with it a continuous steady flurry of fresh snowfall.

This is a stark contrast to the light dusting that she walked through on her way to work this morning. She’d been stuck in the windowless laundry room for most of the day, so hadn’t realised how bad the weather had gotten.

Feeling Billy’s presence behind her, his chest against her back as he looks too, she turns to him, her voice dejected as she asks “what are we going to do?”

“You’ll both just have to stay here until it’s safe for you to go home,” Feldman answers for him, “with the no shows due to the weather, I’m sure there’d be no objections to you both taking one of the empty rooms if it ends up being overnight.”

“Thanks, Mr. Feldman”, Billy responds as they head back towards the staff room.

She flops down onto the threadbare sofa of the back room of the hotel, sighing heavily as she shrugs out of her coat. Tonight was supposed to be special and now it was all ruined, thanks to the snow.

“What’s with the face?” Billy asks gently, coming to sit beside her.

“I was really looking forward to tonight,” she whines.

Billy nods in understanding, giving her knee a reassuring squeeze. “I know, so was I. But we’ll still have a nice time, won’t we? Doesn’t matter where we are, as long as we’re together.”

“I’d baked you a Lord Woolton’s pie,” she protests, “and…and I…well, it doesn’t matter now,” she trails off, not having the courage to explain what else she’d had in mind for their night alone.

“It’ll keep,” he says with a shrug, smiling earnestly, “you can bring me a slice down to the barracks.”

She can’t help but smile back, and feel slightly guilty. Here she is, sulking about how things have gone wrong, when Billy is trying to make the best of it, just like he always does. “I’ll bring you the whole thing.”

“Tell you what, I bet the kitchen has some stuff knocking about, I could grab us a few things, and we could have that for our tea.”

She huffs a laugh, swatting playfully at his arm. “You can’t go skulking about the kitchen, Billy, you don’t work here anymore.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” He asks, getting up and chucking his coat over the back of the sofa, before walking out.

After a few moments he returns with a platter and two bottles of beer. He sets everything down upon the rickety table in front of where they’re sitting; a spread of Spam sandwiches and sponge cake.

“Didn’t wanna take anything fancy,” he explains apologetically, “George was watching me.”

“This is perfect,” she says softly as he sits next to her again.

“Remember these?” Billy asks, picking up a Spam sandwich, “we used to eat them every lunch break.”

She giggles and nods. “I remember you always used to eat my fish paste ones, because I didn’t like them.”

Billy wrinkles his nose in disgust, making her laugh harder, and the two fall into a comfortable silence, eating cake and sandwiches as they sip their beers and watch through the window as the blizzard continues to blanket London in a heavy white shroud.

She stares thoughtfully at him, watching the way the low lamplight of the staff room illuminates the sharp features of his face. Despite tonight being the furthest thing from what she had planned, she still wants to make him feel good; he had been so positive, when she had been all too eager to complain.

“Billy..?”

“Mmm..?” He replies, looking away from the window to where she sits beside him.

“Want to find one of those free rooms?”

“Not time for bed yet, is it?” He asks with a grin.

“I don’t want to sleep,” she says, pushing off of the sofa, casting a knowing glance over her shoulder at him, as she walks away.

“Oh…oh,” his eyes widen in realisation as he almost trips over his own feet in his haste to follow her.

She lets herself into one of the empty rooms - one she had turned down herself earlier that day - and quickly reapplies her lipstick in front of the large mirror that sits atop the vanity, the beer and sandwiches having faded its bright red hue slightly.

The hotel room did make for a more plush surrounding for what she has planned - the cramped confines of her single bed are leagues apart from the opulence of the crisp white linens and velvet lined furniture of The Halcyon.

The moment the door clicks closed behind Billy, he wraps his arms around her. It’s like second nature to him now to do so, though she can still feel the heavy pounding of his heart; he is no less nervous, he’s just gotten better at hiding it.

“I really wanna kiss you,” he whispers, his voice trembling slightly, “but I don’t wanna ruin your pretty lipstick.”

“Didn’t bring you in here to kiss you,” she whispers back.

Billy swallows thickly, a light dusting of pink tinting his skin all the way to the tips of his ears as he grins impishly at her. “Oh right, you want me to…er–”

“No, not tonight,” she explains, fighting the urge to chuckle at the sudden look of confusion that passes across his face. “Tonight, I’m going to do something for you.”

Reflexively, his fingers tighten slightly on her waist. “Do what?”

Mustering more bravery than she feels, she battles to keep her cool as she responds, not wanting to show any hesitation or embarrassment. “Do you know what a blowjob is, Billy?”

His eyes widen as his jaw falls agape, staring at her in utter disbelief. “You…you can’t…I mean, yeah, but you…you don’t have to…”

The stammered display of consideration for her feelings reassures her, quieting any apprehension she had previously felt. She is surer now than ever that she wants to do this for him.

“I want to,” she insists, “will you lay on the bed for me?”

She can see the way his chest heaves with how heavy his breathing has gotten, but he nods, removing his shoes and laying down. She is swift in joining him, her hands moving to his belt.

“Can I?” She asks.

His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted as he stares at her, before nodding enthusiastically. She can feel her own pulse racing, nervous excitement fluttering in her belly. She unbuckles his belt, before working open the button of his slacks and unzipping them. As the material parts, she can see the outline of him through the white cotton of his briefs. She gazes at it, her mouth going dry at the sight. She’d never seen this part of him before, let alone touched it.

She looks up at him, seeing he’s watching her intently, his cheeks flushed. She knows the question she needs to ask, and hates that she has to, knowing it will betray her inexperience. “Are you…are you hard?” she utters meekly, “you have to be for me to do this.”

“Er…only half,” he murmurs, “need you to touch me.”

His complete lack of judgement emboldens her, and she nods, grasping the waistband of his briefs. “I can do that,” she says, tugging them down.

She studies his cock with fascination as she takes it into her hand, stroking gently from base to tip and back again, just as Kate had said she would need to. She marvels at the softness of the skin, the way it glides with each stroke of her palm. Billy lets out a soft groan as his head falls back against the pillow and she feels him grow larger, more rigid in her hand. The tip is bulbous, ruddy in colour and she can’t help but wonder how he will taste against her tongue.

“I–I’m ready when you are,” he pants softly.

She nods, drawing in a breath, before delicately wrapping her lips around the head of him, careful not to let her teeth touch him. The taste is musky, slightly salty, yet not unpleasant.

“Bloody hell,” she hears Billy say under his breath as his hips buck instinctively, pushing more of himself into her mouth. She sputters as he hits the back of her throat and he pulls away, uttering repeated apologies. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, no one’s ever done this to me before. Are you alright?”

Though her eyes have begun to water, her heart swells at his admission, and she’s comforted knowing he is every bit as much a novice as she is. She nods, composing herself, before grasping the base of him. “I want to keep going.”

This time, as her mouth envelopes him, Billy keeps still, fisting the sheets either side of him, as she bobs her head, working her mouth up and down his length, watching the obscene red smear that her lips leave behind. Kate’s instructions play on a loop in her mind, and she strokes what won’t fit in her mouth in time with her movements, hollowing her cheeks.

Billy’s pants grow more desperate as he whispers curses, his brow furrowed as he teeters on the edge of climax. She can feel him beginning to twitch, the way his thighs tense.

“Stop, stop, stop, I’m gonna— FUCK!” he cries out.

She pulls off him, continuing to stroke him as she watches spurts of his thick, white release coat her knuckles and his lower abdomen. She lets go, wiping her hand on the bedsheet, when he finally stills, having spent himself.

“How was that?” She asks with a coy smile as she watches him lay there and gasp for breath.

“I think you killed me,” he says, voice hoarse. When he finally lifts his head from the pillow, a dopey grin spreads across his face. “Can I kiss you now? Your lipstick’s all ruined anyway.”

She giggles, imagining what a mess she must look like right now, but knowing there’s nothing she wants more.

Part one | Series masterlist

[celestisdivinitusinsaniavero]

The three times Billy Butcher nearly kissed you.

Billy Butcher x Reader

TW: blood, vulgar language, gambling, puking

The first time Billy nearly kissed you, it shocked you to the core. You were both crouched behind a dumpster, barely catching your breath after a chaotic firefight. Blood and grime smeared across both your faces as Billy leaned close to check your injuries after you held your aching stomach with both hands.

"You alright?" he muttered, annoyed when he saw it, his voice rough.

"Fine," you clapped back, still panting.

"Oi, don't give me that crap. You alright or what? And don't even think 'bout lyin' to me, love. Let me see," he ordered while trying to grab your hands that you pressed tightly against your side, the sharp pain radiating through your ribs, making it hard to breathe. Billy was in front of you in an instant, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the blood seeping through your fingers.

"Let me see," he demanded again, urgency now clouding his voice.

"I'm fine," you bit out, turning away slightly, trying to shield the injury from him. "It's nothing."

"Don't give me that gobshite." His voice was low, clipped, as he grabbed your wrist. "Move your bloody hand."

You jerked away, clutching your side tighter, the motion making you wince. "Billy, I said I'm fine!"

"And I said move," he snapped, his grip firm but not harsh as he wrestled your hand away. You squirmed in his hold, but he was stronger, and his patience was wearing thin. "Stop fightin' me, dammit! I know you're a tough little bird, but I'm not lettin' you bleed out 'on my watch."

With a final tug, he pried your hand away, revealing the deep gash underneath. His jaw tightened, a string of curses slipping from his lips. "Fine, yeah?" he growled, yanking a rag from his coat. "This ain't bloody fine, luv."

You opened your mouth to argue, but the look on his face stopped you cold. Beneath the irritation, there was a flicker of something raw—fear. You let him work in silence, biting your lip to stifle the pain as he pressed the rag firmly against the wound, muttering under his breath the entire time.

His hand cupped your cheek to wipe away a streak of blood, his face inches from yours. For a second, his eyes flicked to your lips.

"Billy," you murmured, the blood loss making it harder to keep your eyes open. Has he always been this pretty, or was it the blurriness?

"Shut it," he grunted, leaning in closer. "I ain't lettin' you bloody die, y'hear me?"

His blurry face came closer, and just as his lips nearly brushed yours, your consciousness slipped from your grasp and left only darkness. The last thing you heard was a muffled "bloody hell!" from the man you apparently had a thing for. It was just your kind of luck to realize this while you were bleeding out behind a dumpster.

The second time Billy nearly kissed you was kind of planned. Billy had insisted you play his "date" during a sting operation, claiming it was the only way to blend in at the posh event. "With a daft bird on me arm, no one's gonna give me a second look."

You gave in, but not without a fight.

"Act natural, luv," he whispered, slipping his arm around your waist as you entered the casino. "Put on that look like you're gaggin' to shag me later—just 'cause I'm loaded, yeah?"

The goosebumps on your arm reminded you that, since that near-death experience a few weeks ago, you thought way too often about him that way. Not that he needed to know that. So you let out a grunt, but you snuggled up to him like a cat in heat to complete the picture. Him gambling away money that the boys stole beforehand, you behind him arms around his broad shoulders, occasionally caressing his neck with your fingers while roaming your hands over his body. By accident - of course.

Halfway through the night, the target on your blackjack table asked how long you'd been together. Shit, didn't that guy ask you that already when Billy wasn't around? Shit, shit, shit. You prayed that Billy would give the same noncommittal answer you gave, and without missing a beat, Billy grinned and leaned in. "Feels like it was just yesterday I fell for her. Time fuckin' flies when you're not miserable, eh?" The asking man leaned back, seemingly happy with his answer, and you let out a long breath. Thank. Fuck.

You forced a tight smile to hide your hammering heart. "Absolutely."

Then, to sell it, and because you were so relieved, you bent down, your lips hovering dangerously close to his bearded cheek. His head suddenly turned, now facing you coming closer to him. Just a few inches before your lips touched and your heart raced. Were you really going to—

"Oi, mate!" another drunken gambler on the table barked before it could happen. "This ain't that kinda party!"

Billy pulled back, glaring at the interruption. "Yeah, you're right—it's the party where I nick all yer bloody money." he smiled, put down his cards, and yelled: "Blackjack! Knew I was gonna clean you lot out."

The third time Billy nearly kissed you, it was kind of inevitable. After a particularly long night at the Irish pub you sometimes met, you got ridiculously drunk. Celebrations didn't happen often in this line of work, but tonight was one of the few wins you and the boys could remark on your calendar. That and the absurd amount of money Billy won in the casino a few weeks ago led you to this evening. "Right, you tossers—drinks are on me tonight! Get ready to get properly rat-arsed!" Billy had shouted before slamming a few bills down at the bar. You would have phrased it differently, but your thoughts about the evening were similar. You really needed to drown those stupid feelings you have tried to hide for months now.

The pub was alive with laughter and chaos, the air thick with the smell of spilled beer and cheap whiskey. Billy leaned over the table, a cocky grin plastered on his face as he raised his glass towards you and the already half-asleep Hughie next to you. You laughed along, downing another shot, the burn doing little to quiet the storm inside you. Drink after drink, you tried to drown it—the ache, the longing, the way his stupid grin made your heart twist. But with every toast, every fleeting glance he threw your way, it only grew worse. By the time you were too drunk to stand, your feelings were a roaring fire, impossible to ignore, even as you stumbled through the haze.

The best idea you ever had popped into your head: You were going to do it. Tonight, you were going to kiss him.

You stumbled your way to the object of your desire, which took significantly longer than you anticipated, falling a few times and even confusing him with a barstool in between. But the moment you reached him, you fell into his arms. Before you could apologize or set your plan in motion, he held your face with both hands, and all air left your lungs.

"You're alright, y'know," he slurred, his voice rough but uncharacteristically soft. "Better'n alright. Bloody brilliant."

"Than...ks," you replied, every thought leaving your head.

"No, no, listen," he insisted, stroking hair out of our face while his pretty face got blurrier by the second. "I'm tryin' to say somethin' here." His hands gripped your shoulders, and his eyes locked onto yours, unusually intense.

"You're the only good thing in my shite life," he muttered, leaning in close. "And I—" He leaned closer.

Before he could finish or close the gap, you hiccupped loudly, then bent over with a groan. "Oh, shit," you mumbled, clutching your stomach, before emptying it on his shoes as the lights went out.

[fandomwritingbit]

Sweet girl pt.3

dad's friend William Afton x (fem) virgin reader

synop: Reader goes over to William's to pick up where they left off. Pacing? Who's that?

pt.1 - here. pt.2 - here.

warnings: smut (oral and grinding? dry humping but not dry, idk what you call it), coercion, inappropriate relationship, age gap, generally creepy William.

A/n: Happy new year's! Thought I'd get something dirty out to prove I'm still alive and kicking, hope you enjoy! I have no idea if it's good because I hate everything I write at the moment lmao x.

On your walk home you see him before he sees you. The pang of excitement in your chest is so strong it winds you as the sensation travels down lower, settling in the part of you that screams for attention when William is around. You should keep your head down and slip unnoticed up the steps to your house, but the trouble is that you want to be noticed. You’ve been high on the memory of last time, desperate to feel it again. So you stop still, fiddling with the hem of your skirt and looking over your shoulder until eventually you pluck up the courage and cross the road.  

He’s doing something to his car, checking the tire pressure or something, still wearing his smart clothes from work. His head turns as you approach, the slow smile spreading across his face as he realises it’s little you, here to see him, has your head spinning already. 

“Hi…” You start, your voice tiny and uncertain.

“Hi?” He grins at you as he stands up, pressing the tip of his shoe into the tire and seeming satisfied with the result. “You come over here just to say that?” William looks you up and down, another pretty little skirt showing off your legs, you must be doing this on purpose. Still though, you coming to him and seeking him out is a good thing, progress towards you becoming his pet. 

You blink, hating that he almost instantly makes you feel like an idiot, especially given that you can’t seem to summon the faculties to prove otherwise. It’s pathetic how your face is flushed already as you struggle to figure out a response, why did you come over here? It’s stupid really, you’ve come to see him with the hope that, like last time, he’ll steal you away and corrupt you a little more. But you can’t exactly admit that. 

“Uhh. I don’t know why I came over… sorry.” Is the sentence you mutter just to try and end the awkward silence that was blooming as he waited expectantly, and you know it’s daft the second you say it. 

He laughs, which makes you feel doubly idiotic. “I’m only joking, sweetheart. You came over because you want to pick up where we left off the other day, right?” Your eyes go wide at his bluntness, shame doesn’t seem to be an emotion he’s ever come into contact with, instead it feels like you end up getting his share of it. 

As sweet as you look all embarrassed and hesitant, he lets you have some reprieve and changes the subject, “Are your parents expecting you home?” Now, as naïve as you are, you do know that that question actually means ‘are you free to disappear for a while?’, and it fills your stomach with butterflies.  

And again the tiny devil on your shoulder persuades you to go along with him. “No. No, they don’t know what I’m doing.” You dare to look him fully in the eye then and the intention in them has your core burning.

“Then you have to come in for a bit.” His hand rests on your lower back as he guides you towards his front door, already struggling with the urge to tear that skirt right off you. 

After getting inside, you look nervously over your shoulder to see him closing the door, that familiar excitement sizzling in your veins, and when he turns to see you looking all small and scared he can’t resist teasing you. “God, sweetheart, I can read you like a book. You’re nervous, huh?”

Rubbing your arm you avert your gaze, “I mean, yeah, a little.” The scoff from him shows that you’re not doing a great job of being convincing. It upsets you a bit that you can’t act all sexy and brave because you are lost in what to do, but you can tell that he likes that, and that feels very dirty. 

“Oh, you don’t don’t have to be.” He moves closer to you and you battle with yourself to not move away, you shouldn’t be doing this, you shouldn’t have done this before but you can’t help it. “I told you, we’re going to have fun.” He raises his eyebrows on the last word, and despite how overly sweet his tone is it does nothing to combat the intimidation of his bigger frame, now close enough that you swear you can feel his heat. His hand raises up to toy with the collar of your shirt, resting just above the curve of your breasts. 

The grazing touch is like ice on your skin, making goosebumps appear everywhere they’re able. “I just-” You blink in surprise at yourself talking, unsure when you decided to speak, “I don’t think I’m ready to uh… you know-” He does, in fact, know.

“Fuck?” He puts you out of your misery, the word crass enough to make your answer visible on your face. It sounds natural coming from him but you could have though of a million other ways to say it. “That’s what you’re scared of?” His hand moves up to tilt your chin to face him, his thumb resting over the plump of your bottom lip. “Listen, that’s not going to happen 'til you really want it. More than you clearly already do.” He was right, you do want it, you’re wet, your panties sticking to your core in a shamefully eager way.

You nod slightly in some form of acknowledgement but it’s cut short when he kisses you, the thought instantly evaporating from your head as he takes control of you. It’s that simple, his mouth on yours, his hand taking in the shape of your hips, that’s all it takes before you’re lost. You’ve been kissed before, had your share of grimy teenage make-out sessions, but this is insane, it gets more so when his tongue invades your mouth, stealing some pitiable noise from you. Instinctively you press against him, your hands tugging at the fabric of his shirt like you’re afraid he’ll stop. 

Pretty quickly his grip on your waist dips down, fingers slipping under the waistband of your skirt and beginning to pull it down, your hand stops him. He pulls away, “You gonna let me see you? Huh?” He’s asking but still touching you, the other hand plucking your shirt and lifting it from your skin, watching your expression. You bring your lip between your teeth, nervous but still able to hum some agreement. Your shirt soon comes over your head and the skirt slips from your feet, leaving you feeling very exposed under his gaze. 

He takes half a step back to take in the sight of you in your bra and panties, “Now, who are these for?” He asks, aroused-tinted mockery coating the words. You’re not sure what he’s talking about until he flicks the strap of your knickers lying over your hip. 

“What?” You flinch when the material pings back against your skin, the amusement in his eyes a little mean-spirited. “N-no one.” You manage to remember to respond, only making him grin. 

“No one? This skimpy little bra and panties, for no one?” You know he’s taking the piss but you can’t help but pout at the mockery, your brows furrowed when he moves, still chuckling, to kiss your neck. He’s slightly unshaven and the scruff against your skin has you squirming, your hand finding a natural place on the back of his head, fingers lacing and pulling when he bites an aching kiss right where your neck meets your shoulder. It’s the blazing kind of pain that only lasts a moment, but the pitiful moan from you would have anyone thinking otherwise. 

It’s that pretty sound from you that forces him to briefly lift you onto the long table just next to his front door, pulling your bra down to flick his tongue over your nipple whilst roughly grabbing the other. He feels a little bad for you when you whimper from his touch, remembering that he should be a bit nicer to you really, so he takes himself away from your tits, dropping down to his knees. You firmly press your legs together in response, but when his warm hands land high on your thighs, you let him slowly pull them apart, revealing the wet spot on your panties.

You watch him still biting your lip, anxious of what he was going to do. He smirks up at you and you’re so distracted by it that his sudden contact with your core makes you jump, he traces the shape of your pussy over your knickers, dragging over your clit and then up higher to catch the edge of the garment. You help him pull them down by lifting yourself from the table, shivering when he leans in close, his breath making your pussy clench. 

“You poor, pretty little thing.” He sniggers, just the sight of your cunt has precum leaking from his cock. You watch idiotic as he slowly drags his tongue over your pussy, the sensation completely foreign but something you instantly fall in love with, evident in the way you moan. He maps out the path from your entrance up to your clit with his tongue, giving himself something to think about later. This perfect untouched cunt, sweet as fucking honey all for him; the thought has him grabbing himself over his trousers, giving his cock some much needed attention, as he focuses his action on your clit. It’s like he knows exactly what you need, because he finds the right rhythm immediately, slowly circling your nerves in a way that has you writhing above him. 

He has to hold your thigh to keep you still, the mixed feeling of this intense stimulation and the dull rub of his facial hair could give you whiplash. You’d be so embarrassed to see yourself right now, pathetic moans and whimpers tumbling from your lips as you fall mercy to the insane building of pressure in your core. It’s like a flame on gasoline, a sudden, scorching need to cum that burns your legs all the way up to your chest. He grunts into your pussy, making you open your eyes for the first time in apparently ages, just to see him stroking his cock, turned on from making you dumb. 

“God, fucking look at you.” He stops his sucking of your clit to speak, leaving you hanging in such a devastating way you want to cry. “It’s very hard not to give this cunt what it fucking wants.” The sharp words have your walls clenching, only proving his point. Without warning he stands, still holding your legs open, and taps his cock against your core, the idea of him fucking you seems very real and very scary right now, especially with how big he looks. But you want it, you really fucking want him to do anything to you he wants, just as long as you can cum.  

The precum dripping from his head clings to your slick as he slides his cock down, digging delightfully against your clit before notching at your entrance, sharply glancing at your watery eyes. He’s a man of his word but fucking hell, he wants to feel that tight little hole around him. He grunt as he moves up again, sliding his cock through your folds, grinding it against your bundle of nerves and reigniting the climb to your peak.  

“Come here.” He mutters as he pushes you down slightly on the table, catching your legs and lifting them up to press your thighs together, holding both your ankles in a firm grip. He continues rutting against your cunt, your thighs creating a slick grip for him, almost as good as the real thing. Your too concerned with the rearing of your climax to think about how fucking lewd this is, this older man thrusting against your pussy and you’re enjoying it, it’s maddening. But you don’t really care, not when your walls flicker with waves of pleasure, squeezing around nothing as your legs begin to shake. You cum hard enough to lose your power of speech, instantly overstimulated by the continued pressure on your clit. 

When you cum he loses it, your wet heat and desperate hands grabbing what parts of him you can reach, needy for him, is intoxicating. You feel him move your legs apart again, letting them fall to his sides, taking hold of his dick and stroking it til he finishes. A gasp leaves your lips at the filthy sensation of his cum coating your pussy and lower abdomen, you can hardly believe it’s real and not the end scene of a dirty video. 

“God.” He groans, taping his cockhead against your pussy just to make you flinch. You just whine in response half in the odd sense of calm after tumbling over your peak, but half in self pity for the stickiness between your legs. You watch as he fixes himself, very aware that you're still slumped on the table but unwilling to move. 

“Come on.” William says through a smirk, you look a right state and he prides himself on his good work. “You'll have to get cleaned up.” He takes your arm and pulls you forward 'til you land on your feet, now very aware that your bra is clinging on for dear life and the rest of your clothes are in a heap on the floor. 

“I'll just grab my-” You start, indicating towards the pile, but he cuts you off. 

“You're in no rush, shower first. Worry about that later.” You probably would have protested but he guides you forward, turning a corner and entering a bathroom. 

“Thank you.” You say a little uncertainly. Yes, it's nice of him to show you where things are and let you get sorted before turfing you out; yet something about the glint in his eyes screams ulterior motive. He leaves you to it, all sorted with a towel, and disappears to make sure your panties end up in his pocket where they belong. 

Pt.4

[cuffmeinblack]

Crimson Sheets

Ron Weasley x f!reader

Tags: explicit | period sex | blood | cunnilingus | menophilia??

1.5k words

Summary: Ron doesn't let a silly little thing like menstruation stop perfectly good morning sex.

A/n: I feel like I should apologise. Eh. But seriously if period sex gives you the squick obviously don't read!

Sheer torture.

That's what this was. 

Your skin heated with the flush of arousal, every gentle flick of Ron's tongue against your lips sending your heart hammering against your rib cage. There was no escaping this without the bitter pang of disappointment and the resultant hours spent in agonising frustration.

With all the regret in the world, you pulled away from the heated kiss, panting and fingers flexing around the fabric of his shirt, held together by a mere two buttons. You’d been busy unpicking them when you’d had the bitter realisation that you had to stop. 

Ron's eyelids fluttered, lips still parted as his groggy mind caught up to what you’d just done. He looked adorable, confused and entirely fuckable—and therein lay the problem. You groaned and covered your face with your hands, willing the throbbing ache between your legs to dull.

“What's wrong? Not feeling it?” He'd never been very good at keeping his emotions from his voice; you could hear the barely masked disappointment, the hint of concern.

“No! I mean yes, God, yes I am, but…fuck.” Your fingers slid down your cheeks, looking up into Ron's eyes that sparkled in the gentle dawn light, shadows dancing across his fiery ruffled hair. “I just can't. You know…” You gestured vaguely to where your bodies met, his morning glory pressed against you. It wasn't enough, could never be enough; the tantalising friction never quite brought the relief you desperately sought. Another low groan left your mouth, hips shifting in surrender—it would have to do. “M’on my period,” you muttered.

Ron, rather than simply rolling off you or wincing in disgust, merely licked his lips and his gaze continued to linger on where you were pressed together. When he finally looked at you through hooded eyes, framed in those pretty blond lashes, he did so with a devilishly crooked smile. He shrugged with one shoulder, resuming his slow grinding against your aching core. “Doesn't bother me.” And then his lips were once again pressed to yours, firmer, his tongue slipping between your parted lips.

“Ron…,” you gasped, further debate captured by his increasingly heated kiss. His hands were roaming, shedding his layers. 

Thank Merlin.

You kissed him back eagerly, fingers tracing the waistband of his pyjama trousers before tugging them down, grabbing a handful of his behind to pull him closer, desperate for more friction. He grinned against your lips and shuffled out of the last of his clothes, kneeling before you completely unabashed. His cock stood proud, thick and glistening; your core throbbed in response.

He was staring hungrily at your curves, sliding your vest up and shorts down to expose as much skin as possible, and then it hit you—shyness. Your hand flew out and grabbed his wrist. “Don’t look, I need to take off—”

“Don’t be daft, I’m not afraid of a bit of blood,” he scoffed.

There was no deterring him, as much as it pained you to see him ogling your knickers with a blood-stained pad clinging to them for dear life. To his credit, he didn’t bat an eyelid, didn’t seem to care at all; merely threw them over his shoulder and resumed kneading every inch of flesh he could find with a mesmerised sort of worship whilst his erection twitched with want.

Ron took a palm full of your tender breast and lowered himself on top of you, lips finding the sensitive skin behind your ear. Kissing, licking and murmuring praises, he sent you into a pleasure-filled stupor where nothing else mattered but his touch. He trailed down your body, his copper mop fisted tightly in your hand.

The ache between your legs grew painful as he took his sweet time, breathing so ragged you could scarcely call his name between gasping for air. When finally you felt him nip at your hip bone, your eyes flew wide in realisation of where he was and what he intended to do.

“Ron, what—”

“Just relax, will you?” He tutted and planted two large hands on your thighs, spreading your legs wide with a firm grip that invited no debate before shuffling to get comfortable on the bed between them. 

All you could do was gape, disbelieving. You almost shoved him away in shame, but what exactly was there to be shameful of? Ron was busy kissing your inner thighs, tinged pink with blood, entirely unperturbed and moaning happily as he did so. You loosened the grip on his hair and he looked up at you, smirking, before delving between your thighs with renewed vigour.

His tongue found its mark almost immediately. A great shiver ran up your spine as he licked between your folds, right over your sensitive clit. He pushed your legs higher, firmly planted against his shoulders, and nestled deeper.

“Fucking hell,” was all you could manage to say as he licked and sucked without hesitation, barely drawing breath. He was clearly enjoying himself, just as much as he usually did when he’d beg to taste you; even as you saw red blooming on his cupid’s bow and the tip of his nose, he didn’t falter. 

Your combined moans filled the room, almost deafening amongst the wet, squelching sounds emanating from between your legs. Your face was already too heated to blush, and he was far too distracting to give the mess much thought. Your orgasm didn’t merely creep up on you; it ramped up so swiftly your head spun, until you were gripping the sheets and arching your back clean off them, gasping Ron’s name with an uninhibited plea.

His eyes fixed upon you so intently it might’ve been unnerving, yet was so beautifully intimate as he wordlessly coaxed forth your release. When he added two fingers inside you, you finally let go. Stars erupted in your vision as you reached your climax and fell into blissful oblivion, the orgasm so intense you almost cried with relief.

“Th’s’it,” Ron mumbled, before returning his mouth to you, gently lapping in rhythm to the waves of pleasure threatening to drown you. His fingers curled inside you, languorously pumping in and out, as if beckoning more, more, more. “You’re so bloody beautiful, fuck…”

It might have been a mere minute later, yet felt like an eternity before you could finally manage to prop yourself on your elbows, dizzy and enveloped in a heavenly haze. Ron smiled up at you, and he looked like he’d been caught in a massacre. Red streaked his chin, his nose; his lips stained so darkly with fresh blood it reminded you of a vampire caught feasting on his prey.

“I…what a mess,” you said weakly. He still had his fingers inside you, lazily caressing. He licked his lips again and smiled.

“You still taste amazing,” he replied, blinking slowly.

You let out a shaky laugh, still helplessly aroused; either in despite of or because of the sight, you weren’t sure. Though your muscles protested, you sat up, intending to push Ron back on the side of the bed still unmarred, but he had other plans.

“I’m not done with you yet.” His voice was low and husky, dripping with lust, and the fire in his eyes caught you by surprise.

“I thought I'd repay the favour,” you said by way of explanation, but clearly he didn’t want your hand, or your mouth.

“I need to be inside you.” He clambered over you, and you fell back against the mattress. Hands stained crimson pinned you beneath him, thighs spreading your legs wide once more. His cock prodded at your slick entrance, twitching eagerly. He looked feral, animalistic, almost.

“You like this, don’t you?” 

He answered with a hard thrust, one swift motion that filled you completely. “You have no idea,” he rasped. He pulled out slowly before plunging back inside with a low groan. “You feel so good.”

There was no stopping him, and you had no intention of doing so. Every nerve ending you possessed seemed sensitised, and his relentless pounding turned you into a limp and boneless mess that knew only pleasure and nothing of your own name. He held you tightly, his knuckles white, hips snapping with synchronised moans. You thought you managed to say his name but it only came out as a whimper when your walls fluttered around him, another orgasm consuming the last of your ability to form coherent speech.

“That’s it, come for me…” Ron gasped, his gaze fixed where he continued to pound into you, watching intently as you squeezed around him. “Fucking hell, babe, you’re such a mess.”

He said it not laughing or with disgust but in awe, utterly transfixed. “I’m gonna…”

“Come inside me, Ron,” you whimpered.

He needed no more encouragement; with a shudder and an ear splitting moan, his orgasm exploded, filling you with his release. Each pulse of his cock came with a new gasp or expletive, his head thrown back but eyes still on you. Soon you were dripping cum on the ruined bed sheets as he thrusted slowly inside you, unable to take any more. 

You had nothing left to give; you were ruined.

Ron slumped down next to you, and you lapsed into astonished silence for several minutes before you both tried to break it at once.

“That was ama—”

“Best sex ev—”

You both laughed, relieved that the other felt the same. 

When you looked down at your bodies, legs now entwined and Ron’s hands firmly encircling your waist, you smiled. The blood would wash off with the sweat and other bodily fluids once you stood under the shower; just another to add to the steady stream of water. All those days you’d shied away from intimacy for fear of disgusting him now felt like wasted opportunities.

“What are you thinking?” he finally asked.

“That it’s a shame. I really liked these bed sheets.”

[candy69gurl]

POV: You are Sukuna's Vessel 6

Warnings- consequences of self harm, private touching

wc- 2.3k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7

You wake up abruptly, your eyes flutter open, your body drenched in sweat. You stare at the ceiling, your head pounding, hands reaching for your phone. Messages from your friends and Gojo Satoru fill your screen.

It's 5 AM, you realize, feeling disoriented.

You struggle to get out of bed, your legs feeling unsteady. You notice a warm sensation between your legs, realizing you're wet, your core feeling damp and humid. You head towards the basin.

Staring at your reflection, you notice that same short hair, droopy eyes.

Suddenly, you vomit, bile burning your throat as you stagger back, your stomach twisting in revulsion.

Then.. Everything comes flooding back to you, the Malevolant Shrine, the tangled intimacy with Sukuna, the swirling mix of pain and pleasure...

You freeze in place, your heart hammering against your ribs. Panic claws at the edges of your mind, the looming specter of pregnancy flooding your thoughts. You vividly recall Sukuna's climax, the fear of its consequences gripping you.

With trembling limbs, you collapse to the ground, tears tracing salty paths down your cheeks.

"Oh, God," you whisper, your voice a fragile tremor. "Am I pregnant?" Your mind whirls in a tempest of uncertainty, grappling with the weight of the possibility.

In a sudden twist, Sukuna's lips form on your cheek, his tone dripping with mockery. "Are you daft? You're not pregnant," his voice laden with disdain cuts through the air.

"But why do I feel sick?" you inquire, your voice quivering with uncertainty.

"Oh, dumb girl," he croons, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I merely indulged your soul, not your mortal shell," he chuckles softly.

Your heart lurches, a surge of bewilderment flooding your senses.

"So, my soul was... defiled? Then, I am still untouched?" you stammer, your voice trembling with disbelief.

Sukuna's grin widens, his lone eye glinting with malice.

"Yes, your physical form remains pristine," he confirms, his voice icy. "But your soul will forever bear the mark of our encounter, even if it traverses to another vessel," his words drip with menace.

Shock grips you tightly, leaving you staggered.

"What have you done... to my soul?" you manage to choke out, your voice trembling with dread.

Sukuna's grin stretches wider, malevolence gleaming in his eyes. "I've granted it an unforgettable taste of ecstasy. It will ache eternally for more of me, regardless of where it may reside," he purrs, satisfaction evident in his tone.

"You... monster!" you spit out, your anger boiling over.

"Mhm, daring to insult me once again?" Sukuna's voice challenges you, daring you to defy him.

Fury courses through you, igniting your veins.

"Yes! A monster, you are!" you shout, a fire lighting within your eyes. "Why did you do it? Why would you taint my soul like this?"

Sukuna's laughter rings through your mind, a mocking soundtrack to your turmoil.

"Because that was the only way to tame YOU," he replies, his voice laced with arrogance. "Besides, your soul was so eager, so ready to embrace the sin we offered. Why resist temptation?"

A new wave of disgust washes over you, a bitter tide of betrayal.

"I feel sick.. So sick," you cry out, your chest heaving. "And now, I'm left with the memory, the shame... I hate you, Sukuna!"

His laughter dies down, replaced with quiet, cold amusement.

"Perhaps, that's where you're wrong," he whispers, his voice like icicles. "You crave me, desperate for more, even if you deny it. And I believe you'll come begging for it, sooner than later," he predicts.

The accusation leaves you reeling, struggling to regain your footing.

"No..." you gasp, your denial wavering. "I can.. NEVER."

Another wave of laughter washes over your mind, a cruel riptide in your mind. "We shall see, darling. We shall see," he promises, his voice ringing with dark confidence.

With a shudder, you turn away from the mirror, wiping your tears.

"This doesn't change anything," you vow, your voice firm. "I'll never let you control me, never let you win."

Determination courses through your veins, a steely resolve settling into your core.

Nausea gnaws at your insides, your body rebelliously refusing to accept sustenance. Each bite results in heaves, bile scalding your throat. As if to torment you, Sukuna's presence lingers, smug and triumphant.

"Why can't I consume anything? My head hurts so much," you complain, your frustration palpable.

Sukuna chuckles softly, his voice caressing your mind, "You see, dear, you bled profusely last night," he explains nonchalantly, "While I healed your wounds, your body isn't used to such treatment. The trauma is taking its toll on your equilibrium."

Your stomach churns, the reality sinking in. "Is there... nothing I can do to feel better?" you plead, your voice trembling.

Sukuna's laughter echoes in your mind, a cruel serenade to your plight.

"Ah, do you understand now?" he mocks, his voice syrupy sweet. "You shouldn't have tried such foolish acts, suffer now."

Your heart pounds, rage coursing through your veins.

"That's your fault," you snap, your voice sharp with anger. "You made me angry"

He sighs, his voice laced with false regret, "This is what I get after healing your body? Accusations?"

As you run your fingers through your hair, the thin strands catch uncomfortably. A decision forms in your mind. Slipping on a cap, you step into the quiet morning, hoping to evade notice.

Alas, fate conspires against you - Gojo and Yuji materialize in front of you, concern etched on their faces.

"Hey, you alright?" Gojo questions, his brow furrowing. "And why the cap?"

Your heart skips a beat, guilt gnawing at you. "Oh nothing.." you mutter, avoiding their gaze. "Getting a haircut."

Yuji tilts his head, studying your face, "Is everything alright?" he asks, worry lacing his voice. "You don't seem well."

Laughter of Sukuna flashes through your mind, "Go on tell them you tried to kill yourself."

Ignoring Sukuna you speak up, "Just tired, Yuji," you dismiss, forcing a smile. "Really, it's nothing."

Gojo raises an eyebrow, skepticism clear in his gaze. "Let's go to Shoko," he suggests firmly. "We need to check on you."

Your breath hitches, anxiety coiling around your stomach.

"I'm fine, really," you insist, trying to shake off their concern. "Just a bad night's sleep."

Yuji frowns, his eyes searching yours. "Pls tell us if something's wrong," he urges, his voice filled with sincerity. "We're here for you."

Your heart aches, gratitude and guilt warring within you. "Thank you, both," you murmur, offering a weak smile. "I promise. But today, I need some space, please?"

Gojo nods reluctantly, his gaze softening. "Alright, then. Just remember, we're here if you need us," he assures you.

Yuji reaches out, gently touching your arm, "Take-", but all of a sudden, he pauses, looking at you in disbelief.

"Y/N, you are cursed", Yuji speaks, withdrawing his hands from you.

Your eyes widen, shock washing over your face.

"Remember, you are not allowed to tell them anything", Sukuna warns, his voice clear through your mind.

"Yes, Fuck you Yuji," you laugh waving at them leaving the scene with confidence.

Yuji looks at Gojo after you leave, " I feel weird sensei. She is indeed hiding something from us."

Gojo replies, " I am aware of that. Gotta do something about it."

At the parlor, you opt for an undercut, the stylist expertly trimming your locks. As the transformation unfolds, you can't help but feel renewed. With a fresh look and restored energy, you venture back to your place.

"Don't mess with my hair again", you threaten Sukuna in your mind.

"Don't provoke me then," Sukuna retorts, matching your tone.

Throughout the day, you attempt to eat, engaging in small battles with Sukuna.

"I blame you for this," you grumble, your voice laced with irritation. "For making me feel like this."

Sukuna's voice echoes in your mind, "Oh, spare me your misplaced outrage," he responds, his tone dismissive.

"You ruined everything!" you retort, your voice shaking with anger.

"Everything, yes," he agrees sardonically. "Except for the fact you are still alive."

Silence descends between you, the weight of his words heavy. You swallow hard, conceding his point.

The evening casts its shadow, painstakingly slow hours stretching before you. Despite Sukuna's taunting, a faint empathy seeps through his words. Silent tears track down your cheeks, blurring your vision. An overwhelming sense of helplessness consumes you, your heart heavy.

As darkness falls, you retreat to bed, unable to find solace in sleep. Tossing and turning, rest eludes you. Your thoughts swirl like a tempest, each wave crashing against the rocks of your soul. You remember, Gojo and Yuji tried to comfort you today, their concern gnawing at your conscience.

Guilt tightens its grip, suffocating you.

Sukuna's voice echoes in the silence, "Stop pitying yourself," he advises, his tone unexpectedly gentle. "It doesn't suit you."

Torment gnaws at your insides, hunger and sleeplessness conspiring against you. Each rumble of your stomach serves as a reminder of your failure. Frustrated and desperate, you toss and turn, seeking solace in the darkness.

Sukuna's voice cuts through the silence, "Enough of this self-flagellation," he drawls. "Do something about it."

Curiosity piqued, you listen as he continues, "Touch yourself. Release the tension, and perhaps find sleep."

Defiance courses through your veins, your jaw tensing. "No way," you retort, your voice firm. "I'm not going to listen to your perverse suggestions."

Sukuna's laughter resonates, a sinister melody in the dark.

"You know it would ease your predicament," he purrs, his voice teasing.

Your heart races, temptation coursing through you. But you resist, adamant. "Not happening," you state resolutely, turning away from him. "If I fall asleep you will do weird things to with my body again."

Sukuna's laughter fills the void, his voice rich with amusement. "Fair enough," he relents, his tone mockingly placating. "But if you change your mind..."

Unsettled, you huddle under the covers, the weight of his words heavy on your mind.

Trembling, you hesitate, the truth of his words gnawing at your resolve. Gripping your sheets, you reach for your clit, the sensation immediately electrifying.

Sukuna's voice intrudes, "How delightful," he croons, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. "You are really doing it."

Embarrassed heat floods your cheeks, mingling with pleasure. Ignoring him, you focus on the rising tide of sensations, each stroke bringing relief. Despite the distraction, your hand continues its steady rhythm, easing your restlessness.

He chuckles, "So vulnerable, so weak."

Sukuna's voice filters through your mind, his words laden with smug anticipation.

"You know I can help, right? Make it better?" he proposes, his tone smooth.

Unease twists your insides, but you consider his offer for a moment. With a final resolve, you push him away.

"No," you utter defiantly.

His voice drips with disappointment, "You can trust me right?" he sighs, resignation evident in his tone.

"That's the least thing I do", you spit.

With a shaky breath, you continue, focusing on the building sensations. Pleasure washes over you, slowly ebbing the turmoil within.

Sukuna's voice pierces the quiet, "Feeling good?" he inquires, his tone laced with curiosity.

You nod, your breath ragged. "Yes... I've never felt like this before."

A pause ensues, suspense hanging heavy between you..

His voice hums with satisfaction, "Then let's take it further. Insert, one finger," he suggests gently. "Just one."

Hesitant, you consider his proposal. Fear threatens to undermine your courage. "I don't know... I'm scared," you confess, your voice wavering.

"Don't worry you can take it", Sukuna assures you.

Cautiously, you follow his instruction, inserting one finger, gasping at the new sensation. Waves of pleasure wash over you, heightening your arousal.

Sukuna's voice vibrates with approval, "See? Doesn't it feel good?"

Breathlessly, you agree, "Yeah... it feels good."

Another pause stretches between you, anticipation mounting.

"Two fingers," he encourages softly. "Go ahead."

Pulse racing, you obey, adding a second finger. A fresh wave of pleasure engulfs you, your moans growing louder.

Sukuna's voice resonates, "Good girl," he praises, his tone approving. "Now, deeper."

Obediently, you move your fingers, exploring deeper. A surge of ecstasy courses through you, your body trembling in response.

His voice echoes in your mind, "There you go. Keep going, feel it."

As you continue, an uncanny sensation unfurls – a mouth forms from your palm. Its tongue flicking and lapping at your clit sends shockwaves of pleasure cascading through you. Overwhelmed, you cry out, your body bucking involuntarily.

Sukuna's voice rings triumphantly, "Ah, the moans you are making.."

Panting heavily, you struggle to respond.

In awe, you stifle your cries, covering your mouth with your other hand. Despite your efforts, the sounds escape you, a soft moan slipping past your lips. Simultaneously, a second mouth appears, its tongue delving into your mouth in a passionate kiss.

Sukuna's voice rumbles with satisfaction, "Shh... It's okay," he murmurs, his tone husky. "Let go."

Your body trembles, pleasure and embarrassment warring within. As his tongues dance against your clit and lips, you surrender to the overwhelming sensation.

His voice echoes in your mind, guiding you. "Come for me," he coaxes, his tone seductive.

With a final, fierce thrust, you climax, a deafening scream trapped behind your hand. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashes into you, obliterating all thought. Your body convulses, surrendering to the bliss.

His voice resonates, "That's it, sweetheart. Let it flow."

As the storm subsides, you collapse onto the bed, breathless and spent. Relief washes over you.

Sukuna's voice echoes in the stillness, his tone encouraging.

"Again," he urges softly. "This time, play with your nipples too."

Reluctantly, you obey, adjusting to his request. Your fingers explore your nipples, their sensitivity surprising you. Combined with the continued stimulation, a familiar fire blooms within.

His voice hums, "See how responsive they are?"

With renewed vigor, you succumb to the sensations. Pleasure builds once more, escalating with intensity.

Unexpectedly, your hand halts, replaced by a sudden invasion. His tongue plunges into your hole, sending a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you. Meanwhile, the hand manipulating your nipple transforms into a mouth once more. It suctions your nipple, eliciting a sharp intake of breath.

The dual assault overwhelms you, a potent mix of pleasure and surprise. One tongue probes deep within you, its rhythmic motions stirring your core. Meanwhile, the suction on your nipple intensifies, a delicious pull that leaves you breathless. Sensations overload your senses, each action synchronizing in perfect harmony.

"Oh god!" you gasp, your body arching involuntarily.

His voice hums in your mind, "Almost there," he promises, his tone tantalizing.

Intense pleasure swells within you, threatening to break free.

"Please..." you plead in your mind, "Gonna cum again."

Sukuna's voice echoes in your mind, "Cum on my tongue, let me taste you," he assures, his tone confident.

The onslaught continues, his tongue and lips working in harmony. You teeter on the edge, each touch pushing you closer.

With a loud cry, you orgasm again. Ecstasy engulfs you, washing away all thoughts. Your muscles contract, riding the intense waves until exhaustion takes hold.

His voice whispers in your ear, "Well done, human."

Exhausted, you sink back into the pillow, your breathing labored. In the afterglow, you drift off to sleep, lulled by the residual pleasure.

Sukuna's voice lingers in your mind, "I wanted you to orgasm a few more times but for today, rest."

"O-oversenstive", you say before drifting off to sleep.

While you're lost in sleep, a shift occurs. You're unaware of the change, unmindful of Sukuna's return. His consciousness merges with yours, awakening a sense of familiarity.

His voice hums in delight, "Ah, it feels so good to be in this flesh again."

Curiosity piqued, he explores his newfound freedom, his fingers tracing your body. An instinct guides him, his digit finding your clit.

He chuckles, startled, "Whoa, it's clenching like crazy! and so fucking wet.."

Unease creeps in, his action initiating a reaction. Oversensitivity courses through your body, amplifying even the slightest touch.

His voice trembles, "Oh fuck.. this is so sensitive."

His fingers continue to explore, reveling in the hypersensitive state. Each stroke incites a jolt of pleasure that reverberates throughout your body.

His voice quivers with disbelief, "Damn, I didn't think it would be this strong!"

Unable to resist, he indulges in the experience, daring to venture deeper. Your body responds predictably, a fresh surge of desire building. Thighs shaking, abdomen twitching.

Ignoring the oddity of the situation, Sukuna dives in, his fingers delving into you. The oversensitivity catches him off guard, a low moan escaping your lips. The sound is foreign, a deep male voice emanating from your feminine form.

"M-mhm, a-ah this.. this feels better than that day's", his deep voice softly echoing the room.

Despite the peculiarity, the pleasure beckons. His fingers continue their assault, your body responding eagerly. Each thrust sends rippling waves of ecstasy throughout.

His voice groans, "I c-cant stop.." his tone strained. "Can't resist."

Driven by curiosity and pleasure, he persists, the feeling too exhilarating to abandon. Your body writhes beneath him, reacting to every touch.

His voice rasps out, "So tight, so hot... Perfect."

The feeling intensifies, nearing a crescendo. He struggles to maintain control, each thrust fueling the impending release.

His voice shakes, "You're going to come again..."

And you do, a third round of orgasms tearing through your body. Your body arcs, gripping his intruding digit in a desperate attempt to prolong the pleasure.

His voice growls, "God, this body feels incredible."

Once the storm subsides, Sukuna pulls back, his eyes wide with wonder. The unusual sensation lingers, a testament to your newly discovered oversensitivity.

With reluctance, he releases you, allowing consciousness to seep back in. As awareness returns, you find yourself in sleep.

TAGLIST: @moonlightazriel @unholiiness @nyxlai @cocoaxbunny @persephone-lilly @iraa567 @rabbidbunwy @sweetchildcloud @lotus-n-l0ve @smashhed @imhellakawai @loveoreos @selfloverrrrrr @matchainthemorning @freckledmuffin @palegardenrebel @hellomeow12 @rowrowrowyourboat13 @zurakoofgintama

Dividers from @cafekitsune

[read-marx-and-lenin]

What kind of conflict do you think the US is trying to manufacture consent for against China? A war or something different? I’ve seen people here in the imperial core being really daft about what China is and their goals as a nation, but not much talk or war outside of jokes.

I don't know for sure if/when anything will happen or how large the conflict might be, but the tensions between the US and China have been highest around the Taiwan Strait. I think the US and the DPP in Taiwan have been trying to bait the PRC into doing something stupid so they can claim self-defense. I don't think that's going to work, and my worry is they're going to pull another Gulf of Tonkin and just straight up lie and claim the PRC attacked first anyway.

We're seeing signs of such false flag tactics being considered in Korea, with the discovery of plans by Yoon and his supporters in the military to try and fake a DPRK attack and use it to assassinate political opponents at the same time. It is very unlikely the US military would not have been aware of these plans ahead of time. China-DPRK relations might not be the best, but any conflict in North Korea would likely end up involving China. I can't imagine China leaving the DPRK to fend for themselves in such a scenario.

[brewed-pangolin]

Captain Master Chef

OG Captain MacTavish x Fem Reader

18+ MDNI Sexual Themes

Captain Soap MacTavish is, contrary to popular belief, an absolutely amazing cook.

His mastery at the savory side of the culinary world is unlike anything you've ever experienced. For example, his take on Beef Wellington is bar none better than your mothers (you'll never tell her) and you'd be lying if you didn't fall head over heels in love with him the moment you took the first bite of his Haggis.

Even as he expands his cooking repertoire into more unfamiliar horizons, you're never left unsatisfied or turning up your nose to anything he manages to put on a plate.

--

"Oh my God, honey. This is delicious."

You praise with a quiet moan. Taste buds blissfully overwhelmed with the succulent flavor of rice, muscles, and saffron as the remaining accents of his newly mastered Paella dance their melody along the length of your tongue.

"Hm. Thank you, love. Quite proud of me self if I'm bein' honest."

You take another bite, eyes rolling back as the taste of the perfectly crusted and savory socarrat hits your tongue like an aromatic tsunami.

Your eyes linger on him, casting him a doey eyed stare that the Captain returns with his own distinctively confident gaze. Silence falling over you both as you take your time enjoying each other's company and savoring the masterful delicacy he so elegantly created.

Reluctantly, your eyes begin to shift. Turning towards the kitchen as you take in the absolute disaster that sits atop your granite counter tops and stove.

A quiet sigh escapes your lips, returning your gaze back to your Captain lover as he wipes his mouth with a flavor filled napkin.

"John, I love you. But goddamn, do you need to learn how to clean while you cook."

"What? It's not that bad, love."

"Not that bad? My kitchen's a disaster, John!"

Soap takes a long glance at the kitchen, surveying the damage before shifting his eyes up to the ceiling.

"Least there's no'a lobster on th'ceiling."

"Nothing will ever beat the lobster, John. That was truly a legendary experience."

"Yer mother didnae think so."

"Yeah. Because you threw the lobster at her!"

"The fuckin' thing pinched me!"

You exhaled an amused sigh, shaking your head with a smile that only he could pull to your lips.

"Thank God she had the pan in her hand, or I feel you'd have been excommunicated from any further family gatherings."

"Aye. Yer mother's got quite the swing, love. Better for me to stay on her good side, yeah?"

"I'd highly recommend so, John."

You gently scrape the last morsel into your mouth with an enamored and muffle moan. Wiping the corners of your lips as you take in one last look at the monstrosity that waits before you.

"Alright, honey. This mess isn't going to clean itself."

"No, it ain't, love. But I was cravin' a bit'a dessert before tacklin' that."

Your eyes narrow, brows knitting together while you shift your gaze over the counter tops for a sign of this hidden last course.

"What dessert? I don't see anything."

"M'lookin at it, sweetheart."

You pause. Rolling your eyes under heavy lids, you're met with the icy blue confidence within his stare that never seems to not have an amorous effect on you. Shifting in your seat to quell the ache already beginning to throb deep within your core.

"John MacTavish. You sneaky little bastard."

"Aye. I am. Now bring that sweet ass over here, lass. Yer Captain wants ta taste ya."

Your body then moved on its own accord. Easily snared into his hungry gaze and rolling timbre like a moth to a flame. The languid come hither of his fingers making your legs weak and breath quicken as you slowly sauntered over to your illustrious Captain.

The kitchen remained untouched the remainder of the night. Left in a culinary mess and disarray as Soap MacTavish feasted on your sweet nectar and filled the need to have your silken walls wrapped around his stiffened cock.

The dishes could wait. Your Captain would not. And you'd be daft if you ever denied Soap MacTavish what he wanted when you treated him so graciously to a feast that only you could provide.

Captain MacTavish Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @d3athtr4psworld @glitterypirateduck @homicidal-slvt @astraluminaaa @shotmrmiller @obligatoryghoststare @mykneeshurt @jynxmirage @writeforfandoms @simpingoverquestionablemen @thetrashpossum @haurasha @luismickydees @kkaaaagt

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Oh my hey! Please, if you haven't already, please, could you do if you haven't please do favorite singer and song of the sdv bachelor/ettes

Oh, this is the first time I've posted an ask about a topic like this, so I hope I did it right. Thanks for the question, and have a great day! 🫰💕

_________________________________________

SDV bachelors:

Harvey's radio will always play Louis Daniel Armstrong or Ella Jane Fitzgerald because the doctor loves listening to jazz. If he wants something more energetic, Harvey will switch to the Latin music radio channel. He's sure to start dancing in the kitchen when Pete Rodríguez's "I Like It Like That" comes on. With music like that, cooking dinner becomes more interesting and fun.

It may sound pretty cliche, but Alex will definitely have a workout playlist with songs from the 80s rock and roll, pop rock and metal genres. Stan Bush ("Touch", "Fight for survive", "Never surrender"), Paul Engemann ("Push it to the limit, "The Eagle Lands"), Survivor ("Eye of Tiger"), Judas Priest ("All guns blazing", "The Sentinel") would be his favorites.

I'm sure Sebastian will be a fan of alternative rock (Nirvana - "Smell like teen spirit" and "Lithium"), emo-core (Taking back Sunday - "Cute without an "E") and electronic rock (almost all Celldweller albums, his favourite album is "Wish upon a Blackstar"). I also think that Sebby often likes to enjoy breakcore, not really remembering the specific artists and listening to whatever he likes. This is how I imagine Sebastian trying to explain to his mom what breakcore is (Warning: loud).

It's quite difficult with Sam because he's a real melomaniac. He listens to absolutely everything and almost all the time. Depending on his mood, he can listen to both heavy metal and pop music. However, the most frequently played bands in his music player are definitely the Beatles (his two favourite albums are "Help" and "Yellow submarine"), Coldplay ("Yellow") and Arctic Monkeys (the album"AM"). And also any popular song that gets stuck in his head (California girls we're unforgettable, daisy dukes bikini on top-).

Classics for Elliott! Our dear writer - and without masterpieces of classical music? Unthinkable! Mozart, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Vivaldi, Grieg, Debussy - all either playing in his little radio on the table, or the writer himself sits down at his piano and plays music by famous composers. He also loves modern classical music, and sometimes light jazz.

Shane listens to rock and heavy metal like Metallica, Ramstein, AC/DC all the time and you won't change my mind (I'll fight for that headcanon). I like to think he just lies on his bed, turns on his music player and plays the loudest heavy rock you can imagine in his headphones. One of his favourite songs that he listens to all the time is "For whom the bell tolls" (Metallica).

SDV bachelorettes:

Actually, I always thought that Maru would like synthwave and retrowave genre. I don't know why, but it would be just her style to include a playlist with synthwave artists (all Home songs, especially "Resonance" and "Head first"). If this genre is a too calm and the young inventor wants something a bit more energetic, her choice would be Daft Punk (Around the world, around the woooooooooooooorld!) or Disclosure ("Grab her" and "Omen" are her favorite songs).

Abigail's choices are quite chaotic. One moment she can listen to dark electro (Owl vision - "Horus" and "Holy shit"), and the next moment the amethyst lover admires folk music and promises herself that she will also learn to play the flute (Percival Schuttenbach - almost all songs, but especially "Karanfilce" and "Lazare", as well as Sowulo - the whole album "Sol"). She is also a lover of video game soundtracks and dark ambient. As I said before, pretty chaotic music taste.

All the popular pop, dance-pop and R&B you can think of - that's what Haley's playlist is. Ariana Grande, Doja Cat, Rihanna, Beyoncé, Britney Spears.... Haley doesn't have a particular favourite song, she likes everything. In the evening she likes to listen to the same pop and dance music songs, but in slowed down version + reverb.

Emily just can't live without energetic dance music. She could probably compete with Sam for the title of Starview Valley's music lover. And the genres can be diverse: from electro-swing (Caravan Palace) to Latin music (don't play Kaoma - "Lambada" in front of her, otherwise she will drag you to dance), from RnB (Beyoncé) to disco (Bee Gees).

When classical music is played, Penny falls into a melancholic mood. She is particularly affected by Claude Debussy's cycle of six piano pieces "Children's Corner", and she loves to listen to the piano version and the orchestra version equally. Besides classics, the young teacher also likes to listen to Enya (she always sheds tears when she listens to "May it be" or "Aniron"). But Penny will shed real rivers of tears if she hears the soundtrack from Titanic (especially "Hymn to the Sea").

If you ask Leah about her favourite music, the artist will name you a few groups of indie music and alternative music. After all, those are her favourite genres. In her free time, she sometimes likes to relax listening to Slenderbodies (especially "Belong" and "Opal ocean"), or Glass Animals (she can listen to the whole "Zaba" album all day long and she won't get bored). Leah also loves listening to songs by the indie duo King of Convenience (especially "Mrs Cold").

[brights-place]

BRIGHT POOKIE, hear me out, clay one based off of “i feel it coming” by the weeknd + daft punk (it can be nsfw) ALSO CAN I BE 🐈 ANON

Clay with an F! S/O inspired by

"I feel it comin” song by the weekend + daft punk

Pairings: Clay X Reader

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, MDNI

A/N: OMG THAT SONGS SO GOOD FOR NO REASON I 100% recommend it P.S it's a sexual song ENHEHEH “I feel it comin” song by the weekend + daft punk

- Tell him what you feel comfortable with while he grips onto your thighs tongue deep inside your core slurping up your juices

- He takes his sweet time to hear all the noises your making the moans and groans while you grip his hair tightly

- He assures you that he will take his time and make sure you tell him what you like to make him do properly and lick and tease your clit

- He makes sure you relation ship is good as he reassures you that your safe with him - He loves how when he grips your thighs and slides his hands up and down inside your inner thighs while he feels your body twitch and shake in his hands

- He makes sure to push you down on the bed s your body rises abit telling you to stay which makes you bite your lip and nod

- You've been scared of love And what it did to you, and you may have been in a bad relationship but he wants you to know that you didn't have to run and your safe with him

- CLAY WILL 100% REASSURE YOU THAT HE WILL PUT YOUR MIND TO EASE - ESPECIALLY! Pleasuring you and setting your mind at ease as he tells you that you two don't have to rush When you're alone with him and in bed

- He enjoys how you are panting heavily as your eyes rolled back while he pulls his tongue back to tease you as you squirm in his hands

- He believes that your desirable and knows that you personally probably would rather be in a relationship as clay offers you all that. - He loves how you try to make him go back to eating you out as he smirks and pumps his cock before slowly entering you with an smirk - He wants to make you feel good and he already does and makes sure your comfortable and is open to anything

- Holds your waist as he makes sure your feeling good and fucking the hell out of you as he hears you whimper

- Loves how you drool and whine as he makes sure he feels your core tighten around him as he can feel you reach your high with him doing the same - as soon as you cum he smirks and decides to overstimulate you whenever he can as you whine and fall into his hands so easily

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2024 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[jeonqkooks]

jungkook #33 from the fluff list 💗 (even better if its like fboy badboy jungkook getting flustered and shy around oc hehe)

daft pretty boys | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

prompt: "i can't think around you."

rating: G

word count: 0.8k

genre/warnings: classmates to .. lovers?, college au, basketball captain!jk, he's neither a fuck boy nor a bad boy he's just a cute boy <3, fluff, swearing as per uzh, i plagiarized MYSELF bc the shit mentioned here was actually taken from my final paper for a film class two years ago lmaooooooo

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

If there's one thing that Jungkook absolutely despises, it's when people think jocks are dumb. It's a common misconception and it's downright hurtful sometimes; just because Jungkook is the basketball captain, doesn't mean that anybody has the right to assume he's got hay for brains.

However, if someone were to come up to him right now and say it to his face, he probably wouldn't disagree.

"So yeah, if they lose the memories of these relationships, I think they'd also be losing parts of themselves that make them whole, because an individual's identity is an accumulation of multiple smaller identities they have with every single intimate relationship that ultimately forms one collective identity, y'know?" you finish, and it's not until then that Jungkook comes back down to earth, realizing that he's just been staring at you this whole time. "Anyway, what do you think?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah! Same, uhm," Jungkook stammers. "I also thought about their collective relationsh- I mean, collective identity and multiple identities and-"

You purse your lips as you take in his whole demeanor, like a nervous child fumbling with his words. "Did you not watch the movie?"

He did watch the movie. In fact, Jungkook watched it three times over the weekend because that's how much he liked it. When he registered for this class - History of Popular Cinema - at the end of last semester, he was hoping that it'd be an easy elective so he could focus more on basketball and his core courses. And for the most part, this film class is easy. All he has to do is watch movies and hand in a few short essays every now and then. Piece of cake.

Then the final paper rolls around and the professor assigns everybody a partner to work with. In theory, it should still be a piece of cake, because there still isn't that much to do anyway.

So why is it so fucking hard all of a sudden?

Jungkook had never really noticed you before you became his designated collaborator for the month. Never saw you on campus, never saw you attending the games. Hell, he didn't even know your name until this final assignment.

"I watched it," he defends himself lamely.

"Okay. And?"

"It was good."

You frown, and all Jungkook can think about is how adorable that crease between your eyebrows is. How he just wants to reach across the table and smooth it over, or better yet, kiss it away.

He's fully aware of how stupid he must look, with his sweaty palms and his words falling over each other like goddamn Jenga pieces, in front of a girl that he's been obsessed with for weeks now. Jungkook doesn't normally do crushes, but the more time he spends with you to work on this lame ass paper, the more he finds his mind drifting to you even when you're not in his vicinity.

He thinks you're so pretty when you absentmindedly bite your lip whenever you're concentrating. He thinks you always smell like jasmine, and he's delighted by how your scent lingers on his own clothes after every time you meet, like he's carrying home a reminder of you. He thinks you're ten leagues smarter than him when you text him whole paragraphs detailing how postmodern filmmakers flirt with the concept of identity fragmentation through different types of cinematic manifestation as a reflection of the realistic postmodern person, because what the fuck does that even mean?

"You're not doing a very good job at convincing me you watched the movie," you say.

Jungkook groans internally - and a little externally too - as he runs a hand down his face. "I watched it, I promise," he tells you. "I watched it, and I really liked it. It made me think about a lot of deep shit that I don't normally think about."

"Uh huh," you say slowly. Your frown is still there, but now it's embedded in confusion as you try to understand his dilemma. "Then tell me about that. What was the deep shit?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

How is he supposed to explain that every single thought he had suddenly grew legs and yeeted itself out the window the second he saw you arrive today, wearing a stunning smile and a t-shirt that says Caution: Full of Shenanigans? Not once in his entire life had Jungkook felt so no thoughts, head empty.

"Because I can't think around you," he settles on being honest. "Because I keep thinking about you when you're not here, yet when you are, I can't even think at all."

It takes a minute for his words to sink into your brain, and Jungkook watches nervously as a blush spreads across your cheeks, so rosy that he just wants to grab your face and pepper kisses all over. For the first time since he has known you, you don't know how what to say.

The sight of you, rendered speechless by him being rendered an idiot, has Jungkook blushing too. Despite the patch of bashful silence that ensues, somewhere outside the metaphorical windows of his and your minds, both your thoughts are riding off into the sunset together, holding hands.

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 27.05.2023]