#e. e. ottoman | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lorialia · 3 months ago

Text

⋆ sweet temptation ⋆

pairing: best friend!han jisung x fem!reader

genre: smut, minors dni.

summary: you and your best friend accidentally devour an entire box of sex chocolates while watching a pirated version of the movie ponyo. now you're left to deal with the consequences.

a/n: this came about after i submitted a similar thirst for @daydreams-after-dark 's birthday month event . . . so if you're seeing this, hi :) thanks for the indirect motivation to start a skz blog and post this. i hope you all enjoy ♡

warnings: dom!hanji, sub fem!reader, accidental use of sex chocolates/aphrodisiacs, dry humping, unprotected sex, very messy and wet, creampie, pet names(baby), possessive language, multiple orgasms, technically there's no verbal consent but they're both enthusiastic

"This is bullshit. I swear it is."

“What do you mean?" Jisung says, staring at you accusingly from across the couch. His wispy black hair falls in front of his round glasses, and his fingers reach up to brush it away so he can give you a halfhearted glare. "I put Ponyo in B-tier. That means it's good."

Your nose crinkles in pure disgust, absolute horror at the dingy laptop placed on your best friend’s ottoman. The screen glitches every once in a while, but you see the brightly colored tierlist clear as day. There’s Ponyo—one of your favorite Studio Ghibli movies of all time, a masterpiece of visual art and fairytale storytelling—in B-tier. Middle of the road. Average.

“It deserves better than just good!” You insist, convinced that he has the worst taste on planet Earth. “C’mon. At least put it up a tier.”

“Next to My Neighbor Totoro? Fuck no.”

“Fuck you!”

“Woah woah woah, language,” Jisung replies cheekily, and you grumble, tipping back to sink your head into the cushions of your best friend’s couch. If he even is your best friend after this anyways.

You and Jisung have been hanging out at his apartment for hours, chatting about basically anything and everything. It’s an especially exciting night; his roommate is out visiting family for the weekend, meaning the two of you have the whole place to yourselves.

“Don’t make a mess,” Minho had said through the phone. “I don’t want to clean up once I get back home.”

So far, you’ve had halfhearted success in baking cinnamon rolls, little-to-no success cooking dinner, and full success in ordering barbeque chicken. The kitchen had barely survived through it all, but aside from an occasional utensil on the floor it’s pretty clean.

Aside from your cooking ventures, you two have taken it upon yourselves to rank all the Studio Ghibli movies on a tierlist. Some of his takes surprise you, maybe frustrate you— but none of them fill you with such rage as seeing Ponyo in B-Tier.

“When was the last time you watched this movie?” You ask, almost demand. Jisung pretends to think for a moment; his soft lips pursing together in contemplation.

“Uhh… when I was twelve.”

“Oh for fuck's sake,” You reach over to his laptop and grab it, typing furiously to find a pirated URL for the movie. “We’re watching Ponyo tonight. No buts.”

“Fine,” Jisung says, extending the ‘e’. Out of the corner of your eye you spot him picking up the empty plastic containers of your dinner. He pouts, lips jutting out exaggeratedly when he finds the tins utterly empty. “Aww man, no more food. I’ll go see if there’s any leftovers in the kitchen.”

“Okay,” You idly reply, too busy trying to bypass the stupid ad pop-ups on his computer. You mash a couple of buttons, open and close a few tabs, and boom, you’re in.

Meanwhile, Jisung has gone and returned from the kitchen. In his hands he holds a random box of chocolates that he tosses into your waiting hands. “Found these in the back of the pantry. Probably Minho’s.”

You open the cardboard flap and dig your hand inside, pulling out a rectangle-shaped chocolate wrapped in pretty red tinfoil. You don’t care to read the name—the room is too dimly lit to see anyway—and rip open the package, finding two square chocolates waiting for you.

“Huh,” You comment, holding up the two chocolate pieces. “I’ve never seen chocolates that come in twos before.”

A hand snatches one of the chocolates away and you turn to see Jisung chewing. His adams apple bobs as he swallows. “Mmm, cherry. You should try it.”

You glance at the singular square held between your fingertips, and shrug before popping it in your mouth.

An hour later, you and Jisung are curled up together watching Ponyo. From glances and little remarks here and there, he seems to be enjoying it, and thank god he does. You couldn’t stand seeing Ponyo be misplaced any longer.

During a particularly captivating underwater scene, you reach for the box of chocolates—only to find the insides empty. You blink for a moment, tearing your eyes away from the screen, and realize you and Jisung have eaten them all.

“Aww,” Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, but you remove yourself from the pile of blankets to toss the box in the trash. Your best friend remains engrossed in the movie, only shifting to adjust his glasses.

You think to check the brand on the box before you throw it away. It would be nice to get again, after all. The chocolates tasted pretty good—

“Jisung.”

The serious tone of your voice jerks your best friend back into reality, and he hurries to pause the movie. His gaze flickers up to yours with a slight level of concern. “What’s up?”

“These chocolates…” You audibly gulp, and your mind swims from reading the label on the box. “I don’t think these are regular ones.”

“Then what are they?” Jisung crawls over from his side of the couch and leans over your shoulder. His breath tickles your neck as he speaks. “Weed?”

You point to the packaging. It’s sensually decorated, with elegant lettering and a good number of red hearts littering the front. Right in the center are two words: aphrodisiac chocolate.

Jisung’s eyes bulge wide open and he blinks several times. “Sex chocolate?!”

“Yeah,” You let out a breathless, winded chuckle. Your eyes are equally as wide as his. “How many did we eat?”

Over the next minute, you and Jisung rummage around the couch and collect as many wrappers as you can. With each find, you’re more and more flabbergasted—assuming you two had an equal amount, you can say that you probably had ten to twelve chocolates…each.

“Holy shit,” is the only thing he can say for the next minute. You check the back of the box and discover more lovely news: the recommended amount is one to three squares per person.

There’s silence for the next couple of minutes after that.

The two of you must look so stupid, crouching over copious candy wrappers, dumbfounded by your dual idiocy. What the fuck were you going to do?

Jisung attempts to answer that question in breaking the silence. “So essentially…we’re gonna get super horny.”

“Yeah,” You respond, wincing. “I’m kind of trying not to think about that right now.”

“Well- I mean- You- I- ugh,” Jisung rubs his temples sorely. For once he’s completely serious, no giggles, no jokes. It concerns you as much as it frightens you. “How long until it kicks in?”

“A few hours, it says.”

“Any way to reverse the effects?”

“We already ate the chocolates, Sungie. I don’t think we can get them out.”

“Fuck,” He stares at the empty container. “What are we gonna do then?”

You open your mouth to respond and find it dry. Suddenly you’re hyperaware that in an undisclosed amount of time, both you and your best friend will be incredibly horny. In an apartment together, with no distractions. Just you and him.

You’re tempted to run for the hills. Grab your bag and race home to deal with it all on your own, rather than face this volatile situation and the can of worms that is your undeniable attraction to a man you swore never to date. It feels like the better situation for a split second; enough for you to place one foot on the ground in an effort to stand up from the couch.

Jisung’s head whips up immediately, and the panicked, almost desperate flash in his eyes freezes you in place. It’s almost a plea, a look that stirs something deep in your gut: Please. Don’t go.

You sit back down.

“So…wanna watch the rest of Ponyo?”

By the end of the movie, Jisung moves Ponyo up to A-tier. Normally you’d gloat in his face and criticize his judgmental movie taste—but you can’t seem to get the thought of the chocolates out of your head. It doesn’t help that he's uncomfortably close, his hoodie brushing up against your shoulder with every breath.

He doesn’t say anything as he shuts the laptop, doesn’t look at you as he leans back on the couch. His eyes are distant. Unfocused, dazed like you’ve only seen when he’s dead drunk.

You only need to wonder why for a moment before you notice just how burning hot you are.

Your shirt tightly sticks to you like a vice, and your head fogs like smoke filling the air. The thick pulse in your chest can’t seem to subside, and you feel your skin heat up more with every second that passes.

One sensation rushes in even stronger, an ache from your lower half. Your thighs squeeze together involuntarily, feeling for some sort of relief, any sort of relief. God, you’ve never wanted a dick more in your entire life.

And your best friend happens to be sitting right across from you with one.

Shit. No. You can’t think that way about him; you shouldn’t look. He’s your best friend—but your gaze moves on its own and hones in on the very obvious bulge in his sweatpants.

You glance upwards. Jisung’s cheeks are flushed. A bead of sweat trails down his forehead. He can’t seem to stop swallowing. His pretty dark eyes are not trained on yours but on the way your thighs press against each other for friction. He stares as if he’s devouring you whole.

“Jisung?” You say softly, your voice almost hoarse in your throat. There is no need to whisper. It’s just you and him, in his apartment together, alone.

“…Yeah?”

“Are you feeling it too?”

Jisung still can’t seem to look you in the eyes. He nods, slowly.

You crawl closer.

“Fuck,” He sputters out breathlessly. His hand reaches up to shakily adjust his glasses. Sweat seems to drip down the side of his face and off his chin. He wipes it away.

You inch closer, and with every shuffle you hear Jisung’s breath grow more ragged. His hands move all over himself— adjusting the gray sweatpants you want to ruin so badly, make a mess all over and cum on, brushing away the same strand of hair over and over. He still can’t seem to look at you.

Finally, you arrive right in front of him. You sit with your legs spread wide, your shorts doing little to cover up the arousal starting to drip down your thigh. Your knees, planted on the couch cushion, brush against his legs. His breath stops.

You reach up and gently grab ahold of his chin. Slowly, you turn his head so he comes face to face with your equally flushed face.

“Oh my god.”

In an instant, Jisung’s lips press against yours; he practically climbs on top of you, pinning you down into the furniture. His arms reach and wrap around whatever he can as he drinks from the taste of your lips in a dizzying rhythm. It’s insistent, messy, desperate. Your mouths move in a tangled dance, hoping each to swallow the other whole.

His fingers find the bottom hem of your shirt and hook underneath it to tug it up. You oblige and revel in each and every touch you can get.

Your shirt is shoved above your breasts, and Jisung doesn't bother to unclasp your bra—opting to move the fabric aside instead. He breaks the kiss to ogle at your bare chest. His eyes are lidded and you swear that his pupils are heart-shaped, and he sighs, almost dreamily. Like he's seen a piece of heaven.

“God, you're fucking beautiful,” He mutters from above you. “I'm sorry, I just can't....”

His words send a rush of heat straight to your core, and you whine. Next thing you know, he has his hands on your knees and spreads your legs apart so he can slot himself between them.

The friction of his pants against your clothed clit makes you keen—usually you aren't so sensitive, if not for those chocolates. Every sensation seems to be heightened.

"Sungie~" You whimper as Jisung rocks his hips against yours, your legs wrapping around his waist. He leans down to capture your lips in his once more, hungry for the hints of chocolate he tastes.

Everything is sloppy and coordinated; he grinds into you like a bunny in heat, groaning at every bit of friction between his gray sweatpants and your cotton shorts. It's hot and stuffy, but you've never felt so good in your life.

"Feel so good, shit-" Jisung mumbles between messy kisses. His glasses are fogged and hanging half off his nose, but he couldn't care less. "Wanna fuck you so badly- you want that? Want me to fuck you- ah, god~ like you deserve?"

Jisung shoves his head down into your chest, burying himself between your two mounds as he presses up on you from below. He kisses your skin and moves slightly to suckle on your right nipple, making you keen. His soft boba eyes peek out to look up at you, dazed and sick with sticky desire.

Your cunt clenches around nothing, throbs under the way Jisung's clothed cock hits your clit repeatedly. You want him to fuck you so bad, need your best friend's dick to split you open.

"Fuck me please," You beg, your voice trembling and thoughts hazy with lust. You've never begged for a man before, but Jisung is simply different in every way. "Please, Jisung, Sungie, please-"

He audibly groans, as if the sound of your voice gets him any closer to heaven. He wrenches himself away from your cunt to slip down his pants just enough for his thick, veiny cock to slip out. Meanwhile, you can't resist slipping your hand under the waistband of your shorts, to your needy wet cunt. You rub your clit with two of your fingers, whining softly at the stimulation of your swollen bud.

Suddenly, Jisung's hands wrap around the hem of your shorts and panties—he tugs them down all at once, exposing your sobbing pussy to his greedy view. You look up and his eyes are hungry, lidded and clouded with want, zeroed in on your cunt. You think he might be drooling.

Jisung hurries to press his cock against your wetness. He's shaky, almost trembling as he guides his mushroom tip through your folds, his breath coming out in stutters.

Even with just the tip, it's big. You feel like you're split open, and every inch of his cock entering your pussy sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine. It doesn't even hurt with how wet it is, and he slides in like warm butter. He practically collapses onto you as soon as he bottoms out, his head buried in your neck.

His cock twitches inside you, and you realize through the haze that Jisung isn't moving. He's whining softly, breathlessly, but his hips do little more than tremble.

"Jisung-"

"Don't," He shushes you. His voice is raspy and desperate, and he mouths at your neck between words. "I-I'm trying not to cum."

You whine, wanting any sort of friction—but Jisung doesn't budge. Then you squirm a little, just to feel it a little more, and both of you let out audible moans. He grabs your hips roughly to hold you in place.

"F-fuck-" He swears, and there's a growl in the back of his throat. "Are you trying to get me to cum inside?"

The idea of his cum filling you up sends a rush through your bones. You inadvertently clench around him, and the grip on your hips becomes so strong it might bruise.

"Y-you want it that bad? Fine then. Fucking take it."

Jisung starts a relentless pace; he groans into your neck and holds your hips down so you take every inch of him with every thrust. His tip brushes up against your cervix sweetly, and you keen, your hands tangling into his black hair.

"You're so wet baby-" He mutters, stamping in a word between rough thrusts. "So. Fucking. Tight. God, bet no one has made you feel this good, huh? Say it."

You can barely find the words, letting punched-out moans every time his cock kisses your cervix. "Y-you're the only one, Ji!"

"That's it," He says, his pace speeding up impossibly faster. He's hardly going in a pattern, just bunny fucking into you like there's no tomorrow. "This pussy belongs to me, doesn't it? All mine~"

Jisung changes his grasp; he gets a hold of your thighs and spreads them so he can fuck you deeper. It's a welcome change—and you remove one hand from his hair to clamp over your mouth, your moans becoming unabashedly noisy. Your eyes squeeze shut and roll back behind your eyelids. "O-oh Jisung, that feels good-"

"Baby, baby please, I gotta cum- gonna cum inside, want that? You want that?" He says, and his hand shakily moves to rub his palm against your clit.

You cry out, about to tip over the edge. You want it more than you've ever wanted anything in your life. "P-please!"

Jisung groans loudly, not bothering to muffle the noise as he cums inside. You cum at the same time, whimpering into his tangled-up hair. His hips stutter but they don't halt; he fucks his cum into you lazily. You whimper at the sensation of his warm cream filling your insides. It's messy and deliciously wet.

"Jisung," You mumble out, still feeling a burning ache. You're addicted to the pull of his cock inside your walls. "I- I want-"

He interrupts you with a groan; then his hips begin to pound into you once more, moaning into the skin of your neck. He simply can't stop, even when you let out a high-pitched cry.

"I'm sorry baby- just had to. Your pussy is sucking me in-" Jisung grunts. His voice is nearly drowned out by the wet squelch of every thrust into your creamy cunt. "Just one more, one more, that's it~"

You feel like you're being folded in half from the way he presses you down, your thighs moving to rest on his shoulders. He ruts into you with reckless abandon, and his hands find themselves digging into the couch on either side of your head.

Jisung lifts his head up so it's right above yours, and you see him for the first time in what feels like ages. His glasses are long gone, and his lips are slightly ajar as he groans senselessly with every thrust. The pinkness of his round cheeks and the lidded pleasure in his eyes matches yours; he leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss.

You moan into his mouth sweetly, and he hums in delight. There's no rhythm to the way he kisses you and fucks you—just pleasure-driven madness, desperation to feel you in every way.

"Mine," He mumbles, almost to himself as he pounds into you desperately. "Gonna cum in you again, fill you up~ my baby, all mine-"

You clench despite the tired ache in your thighs. You want him to cum in you over and over, spill his semen and let him fuck it into you again. You want him completely, irrevocably.

It's this thought that sends you over the edge for a second time; you wail, unable to make out any words as a wave of pleasure washes over you. Jisung messily kisses you throughout, muffling the sounds that escape your lips with his own.

He thrusts a few more times, groaning senselessly into your mouth before finally cumming again. Another warm sensation floods your insides and you sigh in satisfaction.

Jisung crumples onto your body and simply lays limp on top of you. Neither of you can bring yourselves to move.

"Best sex ever." He croaks out with a hoarse voice, and you laugh tiredly.

The next morning, you wake up on the couch. Jisung is laying next to you, his body tangled with yours. He stirs as you shuffle and pull yourself up from the cushions.

"Morning," You whisper, and he responds with a soft hum. His hair is adorably chaotic and worsens as he runs a hand through it. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," He says, and sits up with a groan of pain. "God, my joints. I feel like I blew out my back."

You notice a similar soreness in your thighs, but you tease him regardless. "You old man."

"Shut up," Jisung replies with no real malice. He looks down at you with surprising affection, his boba eyes twinkling with joy. You can't help but smile at the sight.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You say, an amused breath leaving your lips.

"Nothing," He grins cheekily. "Just that I got to have sex with my best friend who I've liked for an entire year."

You blink in shock, and Jisung giggles. "What? You're surprised?"

"No, I mean- yeah," You find yourself stumbling over your words, a pink blush appearing on your cheeks. "I mean, we did fuck yesterday, I just didn't expect you to say it so...bluntly."

"Well I did," Jisung lowers his voice to a soft whisper. He leans in close so his lips nearly brush against yours. "I like you."

"I like you too," You reply bashfully, and you can't resist kissing him. It's slow and saccharine sweet, nothing like the desperate messes you were yesterday. He sighs like a love-struck teenager as you pull away.

"Minho's gonna kill us," He mumbles dreamily. You burst out laughing.

#why did this take so long actually #i mean it took a few days to write but i sat down a couple days ago thinking i'd get it done in a couple hours #anyways i love two stupid best friends <3 #⋆ jinnie's fics ⋆#han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids smut #han jisung x you #han jisung x y/n #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you

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childrenofcain-if · 4 months ago

Note

That one scenario where C and MC have a kid has my heart completely 😭 Can we get a follow up for that? How are things going on in the joint household? I'm also very curious to see what C would name their kid 🤭

the hershey’s kisses glinted in the late afternoon sun, crinkled foil catching the golden light that streamed in through the window. aster sat cross-legged on the sofa, a small island of contentment in the messy sprawl of school bags and discarded socks she’d left in her wake.

she was humming under her breath as she unwrapped another piece of chocolate, oblivious to the way her shoes lay in two opposite corners of the room and how her lunchbox sat precariously balanced on the edge of the coffee table.

you leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and watching her with the detached amusement of a parent who knows they’ll have to clean up the mess but hasn’t yet summoned the energy to do so.

C was in the armchair, one foot propped on the edge of the ottoman, clicking through their macbook with half an eye on aster. it was domesticity in its sweetest form, the kind you don’t think about when you’re young and idealistic, imagining love and family like perfect polaroids on a wall.

“did you give her those?” C asked suddenly, their voice louder than the hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen.

you blinked and set your coffee down, moving closer to inspect the crumpled foil wrappers littered around aster.

“nope,” you said after a beat. “not exactly either of our flavor. that’s… what is that, cherry? we don’t have those in the house.”

C arched a brow, and without missing a beat, turned their full attention to your daughter.

“aster,” they said, voice soft but with a worried edge, “where did you get the chocolates?”

aster’s head snapped up, her chalcedony green eyes lighting up with excitement.

“felix gave them to me!” she said, her grin wide enough to show the little gap where her front tooth had fallen out last week.

C froze, their hand tightening slightly on the edge of their macbook. you, on the other hand, were far more amused.

“felix, huh?” you said, crouching slightly to meet aster’s eye level. “and who’s felix again?”

her grin grew impossibly wider as she happily declared: “my boyfriend!”

you chuckled, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “oh, really? you have a boyfriend now, kleine ster? when did this happen?”

“this morning actually!” aster exclaimed, bouncing a little on the cushions. “he gave me the chocolates at recess and said he liked me, and i said i liked him too, and now we’re boyfriend and girlfriend!”

C’s eye twitched, a muscle jumping just beneath the surface. they sat up straighter, their attention now fully honed on your seven-year-old’s revelation.

“did he now?” they said, their voice tight. “and what else did this... felix boy say?”

aster frowned, confused by the sudden shift in tone. “uh… he said i could have the last red crayon in art class.”

“generous of him,” they muttered darkly, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“C,” you said warningly, but they ignored you, leaning forward with the intense focus of someone about to conduct an interrogation.

“and does this felix… hold your hand?” they asked, their tone too casual to be actually genuine.

“sometimes,” aster admitted, her brows knitting together.

C’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “does he share his lunch with you?”

“yeah, today he gave me his oreos!”

C’s jaw twitched. you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“C,” you said again, a little louder this time. “let it go, darling. they’re just kids.”

but they were too far gone now, leaning forward as though proximity might grant them any sort of control over the situation.

“aster,” they said with all the solemnity of someone at a funeral, “you can’t have a boyfriend. you’re too young. your brain isn’t fully developed. you’ll... you’ll explode! you’ll leave your parents all alone then and it’ll make us very sad.”

aster blinked at them, unwrapping another hershey’s kiss with deliberate slowness.

“i will explode?” she asked, clearly confused by this turn of events.

you rolled your eyes. “no, you wo—”

“yes, you will,” C insisted, cutting you off. “and anyway, you’re not allowed to date anyone until you’re like 30 and paying taxes. it’s a rule.”

“that’s not a rule,” aster said with the stubborn certainty of someone who knew she was right. she really was her parents’ daughter. “and felix is a good boy.”

“‘good,’” C muttered under their breath, glaring at the imaginary felix as though he was lurking in the shadows, waiting to hand their precious little star another chocolate. “i’m going to fight this seven-year-old.”

“C!” you snapped, stepping between them and placing a hand on C’s shoulder. “calm down, my love. it’s harmless.”

C leaned back reluctantly, their gaze flicking between you and aster, who was now watching them like they’d sprouted a second head.

“fine,” they grumbled, crossing their arms over their chest.

***

after dinner, aster sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room, her brow furrowed in concentration as she examined a tiny instruction manual for building LEGOs with the intensity of someone decoding the human genome. her fingers, small but deft, picked up pieces and slotted them into place, her movements sure and deliberate.

C sat beside her, their long legs folded awkwardly beneath them, one hand bracing their bad knee. their fingers worked slower than hers, more hesitantly. the gap between them—her bright enthusiasm, their cautious quiet—was almost laughable. but C didn’t laugh.

they watched her instead.

aster had inherited their stubbornness, the precision of their thoughts, the way they spoke with certainty even when they were wrong, the hard-headed refusal to back down in the face of a challenge. but she’d also inherited your warmth, your easy charisma, the way people seemed to orbit around you like you were some kind of gravitational force.

she was both of you, but neither of you. something wholly her own. and she shone so brilliantly.

“non,” aster said suddenly, shaking her head. she spoke in a tone that was equal parts exasperated and amused, the way one might speak to a child who couldn’t quite grasp a simple concept. “that piece goes here. look.” she leaned over, plucking a flat blue brick from the pile and snapping it into place on the half-constructed spaceship.

“ah,” C said, their lips quirking into a faint smile. “of course, petite étoile. how foolish of me.”

she beamed proudly, her confidence growing with each small victory.

“it’s okay. you’re still learning,” she said magnanimously, patting their arm. honestly, it amused C greatly to see her reflect you back when you both argued everyday like your life depended on it.

C snorted, shaking their head. “merci, mademoiselle.”

“pas de problème,” she replied breezily, her accent and pronunciation impeccably like a parisian native.

C felt a pang of pride so sharp it was almost painful. french had been one of their gifts to her, a piece of their heritage they had handed down like an heirloom. and she had taken to it effortlessly, as if it had always been hers.

she slipped between languages with a grace that left C in awe, her young mind absorbing everything like a sponge.

“wat is dit?” she asked suddenly, holding up a strange piece they hadn’t encountered yet.

“hmm,” you said from where you were sprawled on the couch, your legs stretched out and a book resting on your chest. you barely looked up as you answered her in dutch, explaining what the piece was and where it might fit.

aster nodded thoughtfully, her small fingers turning the piece over as she considered its possibilities. C watched her, their heart swelling with a mixture of love and disbelief.

how could someone so small hold so much brilliance? how could she be so much more than they had ever dared to imagine for themself?

“do you think felix likes LEGOs?” aster asked suddenly, breaking their reverie. she was staring at them now, her eyes—C’s eyes, pale green and perceptive—narrowed in thought.

C felt their jaw tighten at the mention of the boy, the ghost of their earlier irritation flickering to life.

“i have no idea,” they said evenly, focusing on the spaceship.

aster tilted her head, clearly unconvinced by their tone.

“he’s nice,” she said firmly, as though this simple fact should erase all of C’s doubts.

“i’m sure he is,” C said, their tone carefully neutral.

you glanced up from your book, smirking slightly as you watched the exchange. let it go, your eyes seemed to say.

but it wasn’t that simple.

it wasn’t about this felix boy, not really. it was about aster, about the inexorable passage of time, about the impossibility of holding on to something as fragile and fleeting as childhood. she was growing up, and there was nothing C could do to stop it.

C reached for another LEGO brick, their fingers brushing against aster’s. she looked up at them, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“tu vas bien?” she asked, her voice soft and earnest.

the question caught them off guard. for a moment, they didn’t know how to respond. how could they explain the tangled mess of emotions that had been simmering inside them all day? how could they tell her that the thought of her growing up terrified them in a way they couldn’t quite articulate?

“i’m fine, petite étoile,” they said eventually, forcing a smile. “just tired.”

she seemed to accept this, turning her attention back to the spaceship. but C couldn’t help noticing the small furrow in her brow, the way her hands moved more slowly now, as if she was trying to puzzle something out.

they watched her in silence, their heart aching with a strange, bittersweet kind of love.

***

later, when the spaceship was complete and aster had been tucked into bed, C found themself sitting on the edge of your shared bed, their head in their hands.

“okay,” you said, sitting beside them. “do you want to talk about what exactly is bothering you, my love?”

they sighed, looking up at you now.

“it’s just… strange,” they said, their voice low and tired. “she’s growing up so fast. too fast. i feel like i blinked, and suddenly she’s not my little girl anymore.”

you stayed quiet, letting them find the words.

“i still remember holding her in my arms for the first time,” they continued, their voice thick with emotion. “i remember her first steps, her first word, the first time she looked at me and called out for me. and now… now she’s talking about boyfriends and whatnot.”

they let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through their hair. “i didn’t have this. a proper childhood. a father who cared. i don’t know what i’m doing half the time. i just… i look at her, and i love her so much it terrifies me. so much so that i still don’t understand how my father could—”

“hey,” you interrupted gently, placing a hand on their arm. “you’re nothing like him. you’re such a wonderful parent, C. she loves you so much. you can see it every time she looks at you. and yeah, it’s hard watching her grow up. but that’s the deal. you love them, and you let them go, little by little, so they can become who they’re meant to be.”

C nodded slowly, their eyes softening as they looked at you. “i know you’re right.”

you leaned in, pressing a kiss to their temple. “of course i’m right, i always am.”

they rolled their eyes, but a small, tired smile tugged at the corners of their mouth.

“do you think…” they hesitated, the tips of their ears turning adorably red. “do you think we should have another one?”

“another what?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

they scowled, burying their face in your neck.

“you know what i mean,” they mumbled, their voice muffled. “don’t make me say it out loud.”

you laughed, stroking their hair. “we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

but you already knew the answer.

#‘aster’ is taken from the greek word for star #it can also mean flower but i thought star was more appropriate #i love writing domesticity as well #not very adept at writing child characters tho but i’ll get there eventually #if: the ballad of the young gods #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive story #twine wip #ro: c lacroix #ro scenarios

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pixelplayground · 1 year ago

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SHOPPE THE LOOK - Principal Bedroom Edition

I've received a ton of asks on this one so I'm publishing a reference post. As a reminder, the marble is my own item currently not released. Make sure to click the image for HQ : : tumblr dash as usual killed the quality.

A. Table Lamp by @winner-9 ❤

B. Rattan Storage Basket by @cowbuild ❤

C. Bed Frame by @sims-kkb ❤

D. Bed Pillows by @sundays-sims ❤

E. Decorative Pillows by @indoorsim ❤

F. Single Pillows by @barbarasimscclist ❤

G. Duvet by @cowbuild ❤

H. Console by Ledger Atelier ❤

I. Ottoman by Ruby Red ❤

#ts4 #sims 4 #ts4ccfinds #ts4cc #cc list #sims cc finds #sims community #wcif #sims wcif #ts4 wcif #pxl answers #shoppe the look #pixelplayground

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disabled-dragoon · 2 years ago

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The Disability Library

I love books, I love literature, and I love this blog, but it's only been recently that I've really been given the option to explore disabled literature, and I hate that. When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be able to read about characters like me, and now as an adult, all I want is to be able to read a book that takes us seriously.

And so, friends, Romans, countrymen, I present, a special disability and chronic illness booklist, compiled by myself and through the contributions of wonderful members from this site!

As always, if there are any at all that you want me to add, please just say. I'm always looking for more!

Edit 20/10/2023: You can now suggest books using the google form at the bottom!

Updated: 31/08/2023

Articles and Chapters

The Drifting Language of Architectural Accessibility in Victor Hugo's Notre-Dame de Paris, Essaka Joshua, 2012

Early Modern Literature and Disability Studies, Allison P. Hobgood, David Houston Wood, 2017

How Do You Develop Whole Object Relations as an Adult?, Elinor Greenburg, 2019

Making Do with What You Don't Have: Disabled Black Motherhood in Octavia E. Butler's Parable of the Sower and Parable of the Talents, Anna Hinton, 2018

Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2003 OR Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2019

Wasted Lives: Modernity and Its Outcasts, Zygmunt Bauman, 2004

Witchcraft and deformity in early modern English Literature, Scott Eaton, 2020

Books

Fiction:

Misc:

10 Things I Can See From Here, Carrie Mac

A-F:

A Curse So Dark and Lonely, (Series), Brigid Kemmerer

Akata Witch, (Series), Nnedi Okorafor

A Mango-Shaped Space, Wendy Mass

Ancillary Justice, (Series), Ann Leckie

An Unkindness of Ghosts, Rivers Solomon

An Unseen Attraction, (Series), K. J. Charles

A Shot in the Dark, Victoria Lee

A Snicker of Magic, Natalie Lloyd

A Song of Ice and Fire, (series), George R. R. Martin

A Spindle Splintered, (Series), Alix E. Harrow

A Time to Dance, Padma Venkatraman

Bath Haus, P. J. Vernon

Beasts of Prey, (Series), Ayana Gray

The Bedlam Stacks, (Series), Natasha Pulley

Black Bird, Blue Road, Sofiya Pasternack

Black Sun, (Series), Rebecca Roanhorse

Blood Price, (Series), Tanya Huff

Borderline, (Series), Mishell Baker

Breath, Donna Jo Napoli

The Broken Kingdoms, (Series), N.K. Jemisin

Brute, Kim Fielding

Cafe con Lychee, Emery Lee

Carry the Ocean, (Series), Heidi Cullinan

Challenger Deep, Neal Shusterman

Cinder, (Series), Marissa Meyer

Clean, Amy Reed

Connection Error, (Series), Annabeth Albert

Cosima Unfortunate Steals A Star, Laura Noakes

Crazy, Benjamin Lebert

Crooked Kingdom, (Series), Leigh Bardugo

Daniel Cabot Puts Down Roots, (Series), Cat Sebastian

Daniel, Deconstructed, James Ramos

Dead in the Garden, (Series), Dahlia Donovan

Dear Fang, With Love, Rufi Thorpe

Deathless Divide, (Series), Justina Ireland

The Degenerates, J. Albert Mann

The Doctor's Discretion, E.E. Ottoman

Earth Girl, (Series), Janet Edwards

Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead, Emily R. Austin

The Extraordinaries, (Series), T. J. Klune

The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict, (Series), Trenton Lee Stewart

Fight + Flight, Jules Machias

The Final Girl Support Group, Grady Hendrix

Finding My Voice, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The First Thing About You, Chaz Hayden

Follow My Leader, James B. Garfield

Forever Is Now, Mariama J. Lockington

Fortune Favours the Dead, (Series), Stephen Spotswood

Fresh, Margot Wood

H-0:

Harmony, London Price

Harrow the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Hench, (Series), Natalia Zina Walschots

Highly Illogical Behaviour, John Corey Whaley

Honey Girl, Morgan Rogers

How to Become a Planet, Nicole Melleby

How to Bite Your Neighbor and Win a Wager, (Series), D. N. Bryn

How to Sell Your Blood & Fall in Love, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites, Joy Demorra

I Am Not Alone, Francisco X. Stork

The Immeasurable Depth of You, Maria Ingrande Mora

In the Ring, Sierra Isley

Into The Drowning Deep, (Series), Mira Grant

Iron Widow, (Series), Xiran Jay Zhao

Izzy at the End of the World, K. A. Reynolds

Jodie's Journey, Colin Thiele

Just by Looking at Him, Ryan O'Connell

Kissing Doorknobs, Terry Spencer Hesser

Lakelore, Anna-Marie McLemore

Learning Curves, (Series), Ceillie Simkiss

Let's Call It a Doomsday, Katie Henry

The Library of the Dead, (Series), TL Huchu

The Lion Hunter, (Series), Elizabeth Wein

Lirael, (Series), Garth Nix

Long Macchiatos and Monsters, Alison Evans

Love from A to Z, (Series), S.K. Ali

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses, Kristen O'Neal

Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro

The Never Tilting World, (Series), Rin Chupeco

The No-Girlfriend Rule, Christen Randall

Nona the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Noor, Nnedi Okorafor

Odder Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Once Stolen, (Series), D. N. Bryn

One For All, Lillie Lainoff

On the Edge of Gone, Corinne Duyvis

Origami Striptease, Peggy Munson

Our Bloody Pearl, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Out of My Mind, Sharon M. Draper

P-T:

Parable of the Sower, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Parable of the Talents, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Percy Jackson & the Olympians, (series), Rick Riordan

Pomegranate, Helen Elaine Lee

The Prey of Gods, Nicky Drayden

The Pursuit Of..., (Series), Courtney Milan

The Queen's Thief, (Series), Megan Whalen Turner

The Quiet and the Loud, Helena Fox

The Raging Quiet, Sheryl Jordan

The Reanimator's Heart, (Series), Kara Jorgensen

The Remaking of Corbin Wale, Joan Parrish

Roll with It, (Series), Jamie Sumner

Russian Doll, (Series), Cristelle Comby

The Second Mango, (Series), Shira Glassman

Scar of the Bamboo Leaf, Sieni A.M

Shaman, (Series), Noah Gordon

Sick Kids in Love, Hannah Moskowitz

The Silent Boy, Lois Lowry

Six of Crows, (Series) Leigh Bardugo

Sizzle Reel, Carlyn Greenwald

The Spare Man, Mary Robinette Kowal

The Stagsblood Prince, (Series), Gideon E. Wood

Stake Sauce, Arc 1: The Secret Ingredient is Love. No, Really, (Series), RoAnna Sylver

Stars in Your Eyes, Kacen Callender [Expected release: Oct 2023]

The Storm Runner, (Series), J. C. Cervantes

Stronger Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Sweetblood, Pete Hautman

Tarnished Are the Stars, Rosiee Thor

The Theft of Sunlight, (Series), Intisar Khanani

Throwaway Girls, Andrea Contos

Top Ten, Katie Cotugno

Torch, Lyn Miller-Lachmann

Treasure, Rebekah Weatherspoon

Turtles All the Way Down, John Green

U-Z:

Unlicensed Delivery, Will Soulsby-McCreath Expected release October 2023

Verona Comics, Jennifer Dugan

Vorkosigan Saga, (Series), Lois McMaster Bujold

We Are the Ants, (Series), Shaun David Hutchinson

The Weight of Our Sky, Hanna Alkaf

Whip, Stir and Serve, Caitlyn Frost and Henry Drake

The Whispering Dark, Kelly Andrew

Wicked Sweet, Chelsea M. Cameron

Wonder, (Series), R. J. Palacio

Wrong to Need You, (Series), Alisha Rai

Ziggy, Stardust and Me, James Brandon

Graphic Novels:

A Quick & Easy Guide to Sex & Disability, (Non-Fiction), A. Andrews

Constellations, Kate Glasheen

Dancing After TEN: a graphic memoir, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Vivian Chong, Georgia Webber

Everything Is an Emergency: An OCD Story in Words Pictures, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Jason Adam Katzenstein

Frankie's World: A Graphic Novel, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The Golden Hour, Niki Smith

Nimona, N. D. Stevenson

The Third Person, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Emma Grove

Magazines and Anthologies:

Artificial Divide, (Anthology), Robert Kingett, Randy Lacey

Beneath Ceaseless Skies #175: Grandmother-nai-Leylit's Cloth of Winds, (Article), R. B. Lemburg

Defying Doomsday, (Anthology), edited by Tsana Dolichva and Holly Kench

Josee, the Tiger and the Fish, (short story) (anthology), Seiko Tanabe

Nothing Without Us, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Nothing Without Us Too, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Unbroken: 13 Stories Starring Disabled Teens, (Anthology), edited by Marieke Nijkamp

Uncanny #24: Disabled People Destroy Science Fiction, (Anthology), edited by: Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Dominik Parisien et al.

Uncanny #30: Disabled People Destroy Fantasy, (Anthology), edited by: Nicolette Barischoff, Lisa M. Bradley, Katharine Duckett

We Shall Be Monsters, edited by Derek Newman-Stille

Manga:

Perfect World, (Series), Rie Aruga

The Sky is Blue with a Single Cloud, (Short Stories), Kuniko Tsurita

Non-Fiction:

Academic Ableism: Disability and Higher Education, Jay Timothy Dolmage

A Disability History of the United States, Kim E, Nielsen

The Architecture of Disability: Buildings, Cities, and Landscapes beyond Access, David Gissen

Being Seen: One Deafblind Woman's Fight to End Ableism, Elsa Sjunneson

Black Disability Politics, Sami Schalk

Borderline, Narcissistic, and Schizoid Adaptations: The Pursuit of Love, Admiration, and Safety, Dr. Elinor Greenburg

Brilliant Imperfection: Grappling with Cure, Eli Clare

The Cambridge Companion to Literature and Disability, Barker, Clare and Stuart Murray, editors.

The Capacity Contract: Intellectual Disability and the Question of Citizenship, Stacy Clifford Simplican

Capitalism and Disability, Martha Russel

Care work: Dreaming Disability Justice, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Catatonia, Shutdown and Breakdown in Autism: A Psycho-Ecological Approach, Dr Amitta Shah

The Collected Schizophrenias: Essays, Esme Weijun Wang

Crip Kinship, Shayda Kafai

Crip Up the Kitchen: Tools, Tips and Recipes for the Disabled Cook, Jules Sherred

Culture – Theory – Disability: Encounters between Disability Studies and Cultural Studies, Anne Waldschmidt, Hanjo Berressem, Moritz Ingwersen

Decarcerating Disability: Deinstitutionalization and Prison Abolition, Liat Ben-Moshe

Demystifying Disability: What to Know, What to Say, and How to Be an Ally, Emily Ladau

Dirty River: A Queer Femme of Color Dreaming Her Way Home, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Disability Pride: Dispatches from a Post-ADA World, Ben Mattlin

Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories From the Twenty-First Century, Alice Wong

Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability and Making Space, Amanda Leduc

Every Cripple a Superhero, Christoph Keller

Exile and Pride: Disability, Queerness and Liberation, Eli Clare

Feminist Queer Crip, Alison Kafer

The Future Is Disabled: Prophecies, Love Notes, and Mourning Songs, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Growing Up Disabled in Australia, Carly Findlay

It's Just Nerves: Notes on a Disability, Kelly Davio

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Rebecca Skloot

Language Deprivation & Deaf Mental Health, Neil S. Glickman, Wyatte C. Hall

The Minority Body: A Theory of Disability, Elizabeth Barnes

My Body and Other Crumbling Empires: Lessons for Healing in a World That Is Sick, Lyndsey Medford

No Right to Be Idle: The Invention of Disability, 1840s-1930s, Sarah F. Rose

Nothing About Us Without Us: Disability Oppression and Empowerment, James I. Charlton

The Pedagogy of Pathologization Dis/abled Girls of Color in the School-prison Nexus, Subini Ancy Annamma

Physical Disability in British Romantic Literature, Essaka Joshua

QDA: A Queer Disability Anthology, Raymond Luczak, Editor.

The Right to Maim: Debility, Capacity, Disability, Jasbir K. Puar

Sitting Pretty, (memoir), Rebecca Taussig

Sounds Like Home: Growing Up Black & Deaf in the South, Mary Herring Wright

Surviving and Thriving with an Invisible Chronic Illness: How to Stay Sane and Live One Step Ahead of Your Symptoms, Ilana Jacqueline

The Things We Don't Say: An Anthology of Chronic Illness Truths, Julie Morgenlender

Uncanny Bodies: Superhero Comics and Disability, Scott T. Smith, José Alaniz

Uncomfortable Labels: My Life as a Gay Autistic Trans Woman, (memoir), Laura Kate Dale

Unmasking Autism, Devon Price

The War on Disabled People: Capitalism, Welfare and the Making of a Human Catastrophe, Ellen Clifford

We've Got This: Essays by Disabled Parents, Eliza Hull

Year of the Tiger: An Activist's Life, (memoir) (essays) Alice Wong

Picture Books:

A Day With No Words, Tiffany Hammond, Kate Cosgrove-

A Friend for Henry, Jenn Bailey, Mika Song

Ali and the Sea Stars, Ali Stroker, Gillian Reid

All Are Welcome, Alexandra Penfold, Suzanne Kaufman

All the Way to the Top, Annette Bay Pimentel, Jennifer Keelan-Chaffins, Nabi Ali

Can Bears Ski?, Raymond Antrobus, Polly Dunbar

Different -- A Great Thing to Be!, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

Everyone Belongs, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

I Talk Like a River, Jordan Scott, Sydney Smith

Jubilee: The First Therapy Horse and an Olympic Dream, K. T. Johnson, Anabella Ortiz

Just Ask!, Sonia Sotomayor, Rafael López

Kami and the Yaks, Andrea Stenn Stryer, Bert Dodson

My Three Best Friends and Me, Zulay, Cari Best, Vanessa Brantley-Newton

Rescue & Jessica: A Life-Changing Friendship, Jessica Kensky, Patrick Downes, Scott Magoon

Sam's Super Seats, Keah Brown, Sharee Miller

Small Knight and the Anxiety Monster, Manka Kasha

We Move Together, Kelly Fritsch, Anne McGuire, Eduardo Trejos

We're Different, We're the Same, and We're All Wonderful!, Bobbi Jane Kates, Joe Mathieu

What Happened to You?, James Catchpole, Karen George

The World Needs More Purple People, Kristen Bell, Benjamin Hart, Daniel Wiseman

You Are Enough: A Book About Inclusion, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

You Are Loved: A Book About Families, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

The You Kind of Kind, Nina West, Hayden Evans

Zoom!, Robert Munsch, Michael Martchenko

Plays:

Peeling, Kate O'Reilly

---

With an extra special thank you to @parafoxicalk @craftybookworms @lunod @galaxyaroace @shub-s @trans-axolotl @suspicious-whumping-egg @ya-world-challenge @fictionalgirlsworld @rubyjewelqueen @some-weird-queer-writer @jacensolodjo @cherry-sys @dralthon @thebibliosphere @brynwrites @aj-grimoire @shade-and-sun @ceanothusspinosus @edhelwen1 @waltzofthewifi @spiderleggedhorse @sleepneverheardofher @highladyluck @oftheides @thecouragetobekind @nopoodles @lupadracolis @elusivemellifluence @creativiteaa @moonflowero1 @the-bi-library @chronically-chaotic-cryptid for your absolutely fantastic contributions!

---

Submit a Book:

#disability resources #disability #chronic illness #disability books #books #resources #book list #disability literature #literature #disability representation #disabled characters #information #informative #disability education #disability history #disability rights #please add to this #to be updated #long post

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thoughtsfromlayla · 1 year ago

Text

26 Ways of Taking You: E for Edging

Summary: Hell hath no pettiness like a woman ignored.

Notes: ~4k words of pure POR-, Dream in this fic can be summed up as "the light is on but no one is home", reader gives big bratty energy and I love that for her honestly (same)

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Sub!Dream, orgasm denial, edging (duh), unprotected intercourse, p in v, handjob, blowjob, riding, takin' it from da back

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

D for Doggy ⇆ F for Face Sitting

How busy could a monarch possibly be?

You sit on the plush couch, quietly seething like the crackling fireplace that accompanies you. It should be your husband who should be accompanying you instead. The book you were supposedly reading has long since become words on a page, the letters merging together and tangling within themselves. You dejectedly shut the book with a bang as you realize you’ve been rereading the same line with no progress for the past hour.

You understand that Morpheus’ duties are never ending, as endless as his name, but would it really kill him to spend a few hours a day with you? With a sigh, you toss the book onto the ottoman and stand, your bones groaning as they finally move after hours of staying still. A bath wouldn’t sound half bad right now.

Another sigh of relief leaves you as you enter the bathhouse. The large communal bath of natural spring waters was completely empty. You still take a quick glimpse around before stripping yourself before submerging into the hot water, the sudden change in temperature making your nipples perk. The temperature burns you for a moment, but you soon become acclimated to it. You completely submerge yourself, the natural hum of The Dreaming deafens as you do, and with all of your pent up frustrations, you scream into the water, watching as the air leaves your lips in large, aggressive bubbles that swim to the surface.

“Anyway,” You say to yourself when you resurface, already feeling much better.

You move to the side, grabbing at a bar of soap, and begin to lavish it across your skin, feeling the soothing effect glide over your skin. The water was doing wonders on your muscles and the hum that leaves your lips was that of satisfaction.

“There you are,” Morpheus’ voice echoes in the empty room.

You turn slowly as you look at him, your body fully submerged in the water, except for anything above your nose. You stay quiet, too vexed with him to say anything of note. Instead, you turn away and continue washing your body.

“Are you that angry with me?” He continues and you hear the faint rustling of him removing his clothes and him walking into the bath soon after. The still water sloshes around his waist as he continues his path towards you and you soon feel his cooler limbs wrap around your body.

“Have you missed me?” He murmurs into your neck as he rests his head there. The comfort of your skin against his revitalizes his tired body.

The grip you had on the soap turns bone-crushing at his question. Have you missed me? You repeat his question in your head in a mocking tone. He surely needs to be punished for leaving you alone for so long. A plan is quick and easy to form in your head and a sly smile crawls on your lips.

You turn in his arms, the same smile on your lips as you look up at him.

“Dearly,” You answer back and press your lips to his. The heat of the bathhouse increases the heat that grows at your core. “Let me show you how much, my love.”

The suds of the soap drips down your hand as you continue to lather the bar with your one hand. The other hand is placed commanded on his shoulder to prevent him from running away, as if he would ever do so from your touch. A smile appears on his face as well as your sudsy hand trails down his chest and closer to his nether regions.

It is of no surprise to you when you already feel his half erection greeting you beneath the waters. Your slippery fingers grasp around the shaft and a broken gasp leaves Dream’s mouth. You meticulously move your hands along his cock as you wickedly watch as he throws his head back in pleasure. His Adam’s apple bobs with each beautiful sound that comes out of his throat and you don’t restrain yourself from wrapping your lips around the protruding piece.

Slowly, your hand increases in pace, gripping his cock tighter as you do so, the water and soap assisting you as your fingers glide across the skin. His moans and groans soon turn breathless and he’s simply breathing hard and desperate against your hand. The sounds echoed across the walls of the bathhouse.

His hands shoot out of the water as he grabs the back of your neck, looking deeply into your eyes as your hand continues its ministrations. His eyebrows crease as his dick jumps in your hand, mouth open in a silent plea as his orgasm comes closer to its peak. A whisper of your name like a prayer falls from his lips and both of you know he won’t last long. Morpheus closes his eyes in anticipation as his muscles tense below his skin.

His eyes snap open as your fingers leave him, pushing yourself back away from his body and he’s left standing on wobbly legs. The water ripples from his trembling and close orgasmed body.

“What-”

“Would you look at the time? I should go to bed now. Good night, Morpheus,” You cut him off with a firm hand.

His eyes follow you as you walk out of the bath. Eyes lingering on the roundness of your ass cheeks as they pop out further as you climb up the stairs. His feet stay planted in the bath as you wrap yourself in a towel. He stays still even as you leave the room without a second glance at you. He could finish himself off, but he knows it wouldn’t be as good as your hands.

The next day, you catch Morpheus and yourself by surprise as you see him standing along the aisles of the library. Embarrassment floods your system as you vividly remember what transpired the other day. Never had you defied him so easily… and felt so happy to do so.

You peek over the bookshelf you were half hiding behind. Morpheus had an off-glazed look in his eyes. His finger was resting on the spine of a book and he kept it there for a while. If you squint you don’t think he was even breathing. You walk up to him, his gaze still not noticing you. A tap on his shoulder was enough to garner his attention, and he seemed to snap out of his zombie-like state after seeing you.

“Are you all right, my dear?” You ask in truth. His distracted demeanor is a cause for concern.

Almost immediately his eyes harden and a frown grows on his face.

“You,” He growls down at you. “You left me wanting last night, denying me such a thing like that is cruel.”

You huff at his accusation. If denying one orgasm is cruel, what does he call leaving you alone for days on end then?

“Want me to make it up to you?” You reply coyly and with a smile. Your fingers go to the lapels of his jacket and smooth over them.

A quizzical brow raises itself at your compromise but his will dejects with a sigh. “How would you do that, dearest?”

“Well, I could…” You trail off as your fingers down his chest, just like the night before. You feel the sturdiness of the chest and how his heartbeat thrums beneath your fingers. He’s so real for the physical manifestation of a concept. “I could do something better than last night?”

He hums as your fingers ghost over the hem of his jeans, feeling his happy trail and the depth of the lines that lead itself to his cock. You cup at his growing hardness through the rough material and his hands once again go to you, holding you gently on your waist.

His eyes hold yours as you sink to your knees before him, a smile still evidently on your face. You don’t bother looking away when your fingers pop the button, nor when you pull at the zipper, his breath growing heavier at each tick of the metal. Your fingers tickle gently over the length of him behind the thin cloth of his underwear.

His hand grabs at the root of your hair as his hips impatiently bucks into your face. With a flat tongue, you press the wet appendage over the tip of him, wetting the cloth underneath as you trace around his frenulum. The smell of his manhood invades your senses as you do so and your eyes roll to the back of your head at his soft moan.

A little pull is all you need for his cock to spring out of its confinement, hot and heavy and leaking with excited precum. You feel its warmth as your soft lips kiss his tip, taking your hands around his base. You lick at the precum carefully then and his grip strengthens in your hair.

“You said it would be better. Enough teasing,” He commands and you feel your lips tug into a barely containable smile.

Without debate you wrap your lips around his tip, suckling at the supple skin. The bookshelf he leans against rattles as his head slams into the wooden material. You take down another inch while your hand continues to work his base. Saliva drips through your lips, creating a trail down a vein as you continue to suckle.

A guttural groan tells you to go deeper, and you do until you feel him hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes begin to tear slightly at the large intrusion, but you push through for your master plan. You hollow out your throat, taking him down the tight cavern, and relish in the feeling of his thighs flexing under your fingers.

Your nails dig into his thigh muscles as you bob your head back and forth on his weeping cock, the filthy mixture of saliva and pre-cum rests deliciously on your tongue. Morpheus has started to curse from above you at the warm fit. The Dreaming around you begins to hum louder as you pull back on his cock, sucking as hard as you could with him in your mouth.

His dick jumps in your mouth, his telltale sign that he is close to his orgasm. That and your name falling from his lips once again. His hand has yet to leave your hair as his hips try to take over by bucking themselves into your mouth each time you try to pull back. His thigh muscles spasm each second that passes and just as he’s about to see the stars, you remove your lips with a satisfying pop.

Cold air wraps around his cock instead of your warm mouth and he does his best to stop the whine that almost escapes his lips. Morpheus’ breath is ragged above you and his frown returns as he glares down at you. You looked perfect like this to him, on your knees, cheeks flushed, hair messy, and eyes watery. The only thing wrong with the picture was your satisfied grin that spread across your face and that very obvious fact that your mouth isn’t being put to use satisfying him.

“What do you-”

“Oh my, I think I hear Lucienne coming. I should go, goodbye, Morpheus!” You cheerfully lie as you stand and briskly walk away.

Lucienne was, of course, nowhere to be seen in the library. Both of them knew she was out gathering the consensus for the new year. Morpheus groans as he presses his palms into his eyes. You were going to be the death of him, even without trying. He’s starting to finally think that you were up to something, that devious smile of yours still flashes across his mind when he closes his eyes. He carefully puts his softening cock back into his pants as he absentmindedly thinks to himself. He doesn’t even remember why he was in the library to begin with.

Morpheus’ thoughts trail with him throughout the day and even the Dreaming residents notice the forlorn face that he wore. It was said that while he was attending to his duties and upholding the Dreaming, it was almost barely viable. His attitude turned sour and only answered Matthew’s questions with a simple grunt or resounding “no” (not much of a change there if you were to ask the bird). Lucienne was less than amused but unable to find you to help fix this issue, she kept quiet and hoped it would pass quickly with time.

That night, you were back on that couch, the fireplace was going again and the book you were reading was back in your hands. You’re freshly washed and enjoying the soft fabric of your summer’s nightgown as your feet tangle with the soft furs of the rug. This time, you did manage to read a few chapters but after a while, your thoughts went to the faces Morpheus made each time you denied his orgasm and a chuckle shakes through you. Surely this will teach him to never leave you alone for more than a couple days at a time.

The Dreaming this and The Dreaming that, well, next time he will remember that you too are a part of his world if he should ever want to feel the sweet release of his orgasm again. You’re sure the last two days have been Hell for him, but it was all worth it. That desperate look on his face was like sweet victory trickling down your throat, smooth and refreshing.

The door to your shared room opens with a bang causing you to drop your book in surprise. You look at Morpheus with wide eyes as you’re completely caught off by his sudden intrusion. Words fail you as he swiftly makes his way to you, standing in front of you with his lips tugging downwards. A scoff leaves you as you realize he’s pouting at you.

“What ever is the matter, sweet Morpheus?” You tease in an almost condescending, sickly sweet voice.

“You’re punishing me.” It wasn’t a question. He states it loud and clear. It had taken him all day to decipher your actions. The thought had been chasing him for the past two days, but he was always faster than it, jittering from denied orgasms and responsibilities to accomplish.

“No!” You gasp with exaggeration. “We were simply interrupted!”

Morpheus stays silent at your blatant lie, if anything you basically smacked him with a sign that read “yes, obviously, you numb-nut of a lover.” He doesn’t bother to move either, his eyes betraying his pseudo-domineering stance at the moment.

“Well, good conversation then,” You mutter to yourself as you pick up your book again. You turn to the page you left off on and begin to read again.

Morpheus’ gaze burned two holes into the top of your head as you read. Not before long, another surprised noise leaves you as he plucks the book from your hands and throws it off into some unknown corner of the room.

“Lucienne is going to murder you for treating her books like that,” You comment with a cross of your arms.

“She’ll survive,” He growls down at you. He’s met with your brow raising in turn, in which he finally pieces the last piece together. “Are you acting out because I’ve been neglecting you?”

Dang, he really hit the nail in the head with that one. You turn your head to the side, arms still crossed as you respond.

“Well, I certainly got your attention this time.”

“I’d say,” He muses. He sits down by your feet, the white fur of the rug in stark contrast to his outfit. The fireplace softens his sharpness with its warm glow as you look at him from above.

You think the conversation was over then, it seemed like the two of you came to a conclusion. Getting up from the couch, you try to walk over to the corner the book was lying in, but are stopped almost immediately as he holds onto your wrist.

“How can I make it up to you, my love?” He asks and the pout almost makes it to his lips again. And, well, how can you say no to a face like that?

You join him on the rug, hands cupping at his face. He leans into your touch, the moment endearing as you look at him.

“Did we learn anything?” You ask.

“Yes.”

“Lay down for me, darling. And let’s get rid of the clothes,” You hum.

The change is instantaneous as he lays down per your request. The furs caress against your shins as you move to straddle him, picking up the helms of your nightgown in the process. Your arousal starts to drip out of you at the sight before you. Reducing a King to nothing but a needy lover was a sight for fond eyes. It’s the thought of knowing that he could easily overpower you if he so wanted, but relinquishing all his power just so you may touch him? Delicious.

Your pussy lips slide across the length of him as you get comfortable sitting on his lap. Morpheus’ hands easily find themselves, once again on your waist. How he wished you would strip for him as well, but he doesn’t voice his want in case you decided against touching him tonight.

Leaning over, you go to kiss him, feeling his soft lips against yours and even you can’t deny your body when it grinds down over his cock. A satisfied hum emits from your throat as his hands wander over the curve of your ass and you leave his lips to give him bruising kisses along his pale skin. You are a painter and he is a canvas where you will show the world how much you loved him. Red blooms across the soft skin, his grip on you tightening.

His hips thrust upwards with a moan, to which you defiantly sit down harder on him to prevent him from moving anymore. Your name falls from his lips in a hushed whisper, barely audible over the crackling fire. It sends a tug into your core, to hear it in such reverence. With heavy breath, you lean back and watch as his lips try to chase you.

Morpheus stops himself short when he sees you raising slightly, hand moving between the two of you and firmly grabbing at his cock. You guide himself under you, teasing him a bit more by sliding his tip across the length of your slit. His mouth opens in protest, but before words can come out, you sink yourself onto him.

Harmonious groans tangled with each other at the feeling. The familiar stretch of him leaves you panting above him. Your warmth was incomparable to your hands or mouth and Morpheus’ nails left small crevices in your thighs. The slight pain grounds you from drifting off into a complete world of pleasure. It takes a few moments for you to start moving your hips, the size of him taking a few moments to adjust to. The first drag of his cock in you leaves you shaking already. It had been too long since you had last felt the touch of his skin against yours.

With your hands bracing themselves on his chest, you begin your bounces, keeping a rhythm that you like. Morpheus is like putty beneath your fingers, grasping at any part of you that he could in his throes of pleasure. His hair is beyond tussled, his lips dry and parted as noises accompany the slap of your thighs against his.

Each bounce makes his tip kiss against your cervix, your walls fluttering around him in a vice like grip at how well you took him. It was familiar but exciting each time you took him again and again. The smell of sex accompanies the smell of burning wood on the floor as your thighs shake in exhaustion.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You whine out as you realize your rhythm starts to slow down.

You settle to grind on him instead, loving the way the new maneuver has his tip rubbing against the spongy spot in you. You gasp with your head thrown back as you’re about to reach your peak.

Morpheus stares at you in awe, sweat highlights your skin in the lowlight and your breasts bounce with each grind you push down onto him. Your hands brace themselves on his thighs as you feel your orgasm impeding slowly into your system. Just a few more like this and you would be done for and Morpheus would soon follow.

Another mischievous idea pops into your head through the haze of pleasure. With the remainder of your strength, you rise, letting his cock slip out of you. Morpheus whines this time, unable to hold it back as his hands grip your waist trying to pull you back onto him, to let you ride him into oblivion.

You feel his heat as you hover over his cock, panting into his neck. You may have denied your own orgasm, but seeing his teary and begging eyes was exactly what you wanted. His chest heaves with annoyance as a familiar frown makes its way onto his face.

“What do you think you are doing? I am going to kill you,” He accuses beneath you. The insult leaves his mouth but both of you know he would never follow through with it.

“I think… ha…” You’re still panting, cardio has never been your strong suit. “I think I’m too tired. I should turn in for the night, my love.”

“Surely you are joking,” He laughs void of any actual amusement.

“No, no, I’m just sooo tired. Yeah.” You fake a yawn as you unstraddle his waist.

His eyes trail you as you stand on wobbly legs, using the couch as a crutch as a halfway point to your shared bed.

“Absolutely not,” He comments as his hand brings you down again having you kneeling before the couch.

He’s quick to appear behind you, running his fingers down your spine to rest on your hip. The sensation leaves you weak and limp, bracing on the seat of the couch and resting your head on your arms. A kiss to the center of your shoulder blades is the only warning he gives before he inserts himself into you again.

Morpheus doesn’t wait as he picks up a brutal pace, each thrust he gives you communicating his frustrations. The legs of the furniture scratch the floor beneath it as it rocks with your body. You’re left, once again, panting in pleasure at the drag of his cock within your walls.

His grip on your hip is enough to bruise, to remind you of your passionate night the day after. His other hand snakes in front of your neck, pushing your face upwards, scattering your broken moans into the air.

The orgasm you denied yourself comes back with full force, your eyes shutting as you feel it searing through you. With help from Morpheus, as he thrusts forward into you, your lower lips clamp down onto him, releasing your cum over the front of his highs in a satisfying orgasm. Your back bows forward at the release and you’re left panting into the cushions.

“Let me cum,” He weakly commands as he feels your slick coating him.

“Please, yes! Cum,” You moan, riding through your orgasm as he continues pumping into you.

He bites down on your shoulder, his groan muffled between your skin as he climaxes into you. His cock twitches in you as he cum releases into the deepest part of your being. You feel as if your mind is full of cobwebs as he stays in you, keeping you full until his erection turns soft.

The softness of your shared bed barely registers in your mind as he moves the two of you over. The blanket is placed over your naked bodies and he pulls you close. His lips press into your temple as he chants mantras of his devotion to you as you fall asleep in his arms a satisfied smile on his face.

This time, Morpheus has learned his lesson as he stares adoringly at your peaceful face. How could he ever forget something like that?

D for Doggy ⇆ F for Face Sitting

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Time to get back to that angst fic, but we can enjoy this as like... a palate cleanser or something

I'm now on Ao3! The fics are very slowly getting added when I have the energy to. I never knew how in-depth the tagging system went and I get tired looking at it...

♡ Yours, Layla

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #morpheus x reader smut #dream of the endless x reader smut #dream x reader smut #lord morpheus #dream the endless #26 ways of taking you

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billskeis · 10 months ago

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hi can you do Tom smut where he is dating reader and she likes reading and he just like tells her to read for him while he is fucking her and she just like struggles to talk and he is just kinda chuckling and listening to her

˖ ࣪ ⟢ tom’s personal bookworm

lol haha hi so imagine tom kaulitz, considered the sexiest guitarist in germany right now as tokio hotel rises up to the top as rockstars with a bookworm reader. never really goes to their concerts because she enjoys her alone time but however will support from the other side of the screen as their concerts are constantly being streamed.

you were never the type to be upset about not being able to spend actual time with tom knowing his packed schedule, understanding and content with just being able to see him from afar.

reader loves book. and i mean, LOVES books. her whole room is filled with them. her parents were concerned for her every passing day because all she did was spend her allowance on books. not that they’re complaining because at the end of the day she was smart, humble, quiet. never really got herself into trouble since she would spend most of her days reading.

they’ve always wondered how she got a boyfriend that’s the total opposite of her.. mr popular who has thousands of girls just waiting for him to court them, is dating a nerdy nobody who only spends her free time reading? i guess you can say opposites really do attract.

tom now has been making more frequent visits to his girlfriend’s humble abode to catch her often stuck in a book that she’s been raving about the day before. rambling on how exciting it is to be able to start a fresh new book after just finishing one. it could only really take her a day to finish a thick novel that she had just purchased long ago, head in the clouds of true crime, thriller and fantasy. tom wishes his girlfriend would pay more attention to him now that he’s off tour and can finally spend time with her. ohoh, he’s jealous. jealous of a fucking book, or books, lol.

and all of a sudden, the new books that you have recently bought have been collecting dust, stuck on the same book for a week now.

tom had asked you to read out the dialogue between the main protagonist and the villain, sliding himself inside of you as he slowly fucks your soaking walls sitting on the ottoman stood at the end of your bed. “oh fuck, you’re tight.. ‘s been a while huh schatzi?” a firm grip on your ass as he holds your body upright, sitting in his lap as you hold a book in-front of you like a teacher standing at a podium. “t-tom, i can’t concentrate like this.”

“c’mon, read to me baby.” moving your hips up and down his length, slowly and agonizing, your cunt feels every inch and vein of his cock, the stretch just right as he presses kisses to your cervix with his tip.

you huffed in defeat, biting your lip before speaking, “a-and so.. you e-either—mmgh.. surrender to me or, o-or.. ah!” yelping as the curve of his dick presses against your velvety walls in a new angle, pleasure shooting through your body as legs threaten to shake. tom can only laugh at you, a throaty groan while he continues to move your body at a rhythm that satiates the both of you. he indulges in controlling how you ride him, a soft and pliable body made for him to fuck and distract her from what she loves the second most, him coming in first after all.

you hold onto your book for dear life, stuttering words as they struggle to fall off your lips, drool coming out more instead as you grind your hips on tom.

he silently watches you, watches how you fail to get a complete sentence out without choking on a moan or a whimper, chuckling as he is completely enamoured with your being. how pretty you are in his lap riding his cock as you attempt to fill out his request of storytelling one of your current reads.

but he listens. he listens as you break it down to him on how the superhero and the villain instead come to redeem themselves as lovers rather than enemies. and it’s quite sweet, isn’t it? how people on the opposite sides of the universe can just come together as one, quite ironic if you ask me. but he absolutely adores the way you read to him, even if it involves shoving his cock into your cunt, over, and over again.

as a hand holds your waist, he uses his other hand to rub your clit in front of him, your body jolts from the overstimulation as you leak onto his pelvic moan, juices spilling to seep onto the suede chair.

feeling overwhelmed, your book almost slips from your grasp as you wrap your arms around tom’s neck, complaining that it’s ‘too much’ and you ‘can’t take it,’ but he doesn’t listen, he can only press a kiss to your cheek and tell you “you’re doing good baby, just a few more pages mkay?” his hands massaging your waist as he bounces you on his cock. you swallow your words instead, incapable to recite the dialogue as you cried out in pleasure.

with a smirk plastered on his lips, tom takes the book from your hand and throws it to the bed behind you, he can’t risk in damaging your goods now! your struggle for speech was quickly replaced with the creak of the ottoman inside your bedroom, your back arching as your chest is now flush to tom’s clinging onto the body that bullies you as eyes roll back.

your head rests on tom as tears roll off your face and tongue lolls out onto his shoulder, you babble ‘sorries’ to tom, as you now realized that despite his time off, you prioritized the books you read 24/7 over your own boyfriend.

“s’okay.. i can—ugh, have my smart girlfriend all t’myself now, yea?”

so i didn’t proofread this lol >_<

anyways , i’m off to disappear for another couple days (maybe)

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut #2000s #fyp #billskeis

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girlactionfigure · 4 months ago

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🧵Meet 15 Jewish Nobel Prize Winners Who Changed History🧵

The Jewish population constitutes just 0.18% of the world (15.3 million out of 8.2 billion), yet approximately 20-30% of Nobel Prize winners in fields like Physics, Chemistry, and Medicine are Jewish. This incredible fact highlights the Jewish community's historic contributions to humanity.

Let’s meet just 15 of the over 200 Jewish Nobel Prize winners.

1/ Albert Einstein (1921, Physics).

Einstein was born in Germany to a secular Jewish family. His groundbreaking discovery of the photoelectric effect laid the foundation for quantum mechanics, earning him the Nobel Prize.

▪ His theory of relativity (E=mc²) reshaped our understanding of gravity and spacetime.

▪In 1933, Einstein fled Nazi Germany to the U.S., where he became a vocal advocate for civil rights and Zionism. ▪He helped inspire the Manhattan Project but later became an advocate for nuclear disarmament.

2/ Niels Bohr (1922, Physics).

Born in Denmark to a Jewish mother, Bohr revolutionized atomic physics.

▪His Bohr Model showed electrons orbit the nucleus in distinct energy levels. ▪During WWII, Bohr worked on the Manhattan Project after escaping Nazi persecution. ▪Beyond science, Bohr advocated for global cooperation and peaceful nuclear energy use.

3/ Shmuel Yosef Agnon (1966, Literature).

Born in Galicia (modern-day Ukraine), Agnon immigrated to Ottoman Palestine in 1908.

▪His novels and stories delve into Jewish tradition, spirituality, and the tension between modernity and faith. ▪His acclaimed works include A Simple Story and Only Yesterday. ▪Agnon’s Nobel solidified Hebrew literature's global recognition.

4/ Rosalyn Yalow (1977, Medicine).

Yalow, born in New York to a Jewish family, co-developed radioimmunoassay (RIA), a groundbreaking technique to measure hormones in blood.

▪Her work revolutionized the diagnosis and treatment of diseases like diabetes. ▪Despite gender biases in science at that time, she became the second woman to win the Medicine Nobel.

5/ Baruch Blumberg (1976, Medicine).

Blumberg, a Jewish-American physician, discovered the Hepatitis B virus and developed its vaccine.

▪His research saved millions from liver disease and cancer.

▪Blumberg also served as the first director of NASA’s Astrobiology Institute, exploring life’s origins in the universe.

6/ Lev Landau (1962, Physics)

Born in Baku, Azerbaijan, to a Jewish family, Landau made ground-breaking contributions to condensed matter physics and quantum mechanics.

▪His groundbreaking work on superfluidity explained the behavior of liquid helium at extremely low temperatures. ▪Landau also developed the "Landau-Lifshitz equations," foundational in describing ferromagnetism. ▪Known as a genius in theoretical physics, his "Landau Levels" remain crucial in quantum mechanics.

7/ Richard Feynman (1965, Physics).

Feynman, born to Jewish parents in New York, shared the Nobel for his work in quantum electrodynamics (QED).

▪Known for his brilliance and humor, he revolutionized particle physics with "Feynman diagrams." ▪He contributed to the Manhattan Project and inspired countless scientists through his lectures and books like Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman!

8/ Elie Wiesel (1986, Literature).

A Romanian-born Holocaust survivor, Wiesel wrote Night, a searing memoir of his Auschwitz experience.

▪He dedicated his life to Holocaust education and combating hatred. ▪Wiesel’s Nobel recognized his literary contributions, ensuring the horrors of the Holocaust were never forgotten.

9/ Herbert Hauptman (1985, Chemistry).

Hauptman, a Jewish-American mathematician, co-developed direct methods for solving crystal structures, revolutionizing crystallography.

▪His work paved the way for advances in drug design, enabling scientists to develop life-saving medications. ▪Hauptman’s methods remain foundational in understanding molecular structures in biology and medicine.

10/ Robert Aumann - Yisrael Aumann. (2005, Economics).

An Israeli-American mathematician, Aumann revolutionized game theory, analyzing strategic interactions between rational decision-makers.

▪His work, particularly on "repeated games," has applications in economics, military strategy, and even evolutionary biology. ▪Aumann is an observant Orthodox Jew and has been a vocal advocate for Israel's security and has connected his mathematical insights with the Talmudic concept of fairness and justice. He often reflects on his Jewish heritage in his work and public speeches.

11/ Aaron Ciechanover (2004, Chemistry).

Ciechanover, born in Haifa, Israel, discovered the ubiquitin-mediated protein degradation system.

▪This mechanism explains how cells identify and destroy faulty or damaged proteins, which is essential for maintaining health. ▪His findings have significant implications for treating diseases like cancer, Alzheimer's, and Parkinson's.

12/ Avram Hershko (2004, Chemistry).

Hershko, born in Hungary and a Holocaust survivor, worked alongside Ciechanover on the ubiquitin system.

▪His research showed how proteins are tagged for destruction, which is vital for cellular health. ▪Hershko’s journey from surviving the Holocaust to becoming a Nobel laureate highlights the resilience and brilliance of Jewish scientists.

13/ Daniel Kahneman (2002, Economics).

Kahneman, born in Tel Aviv, is a psychologist whose work transformed economics.

▪He co-authored Thinking, Fast and Slow, exploring how cognitive biases affect decision-making. ▪His prospect theory explained how people assess risk, challenging classical economic theories of rationality.

14/ Ada Yonath (2009, Chemistry).

An Israeli crystallographer, Yonath is celebrated for uncovering the 3D structure of ribosomes, the cell's protein factories.

▪Her work advanced the development of antibiotics targeting bacterial ribosomes, combating antibiotic resistance. ▪Yonath is the first Israeli woman to win the Nobel Prize in Chemistry.

15/ Saul Perlmutter (2011, Physics).

An astrophysicist from Berkeley, Perlmutter co-discovered that the universe’s expansion is accelerating due to "dark energy."

▪His work confirmed the existence of this mysterious force, which makes up about 68% of the universe. ▪Perlmutter’s groundbreaking discovery led to a wave of new theories and observations in cosmology, changing how we understand the cosmos and our place within it.

Conclusion.

Of the 976 individual winners of the Nobel Prize and the Nobel Memorial Prize in Economic Sciences from 1901 through 2024, at least 217 have been Jews or people with at least one Jewish parent, an astonishing 22% of all recipients.

This amazing achievement underlines the huge contribution that the Jewish community has made to world progress in a wide range of areas, from science and medicine to literature and economics.

With only 0.2% of the world's population, Jewish people have continued to shape and inspire the world with intellectual perseverance and innovation, thus leaving a lasting legacy for future generations.

Correction *Jewish population is at 15.8 million.

Correction: Wiesel won for peace.

@AP_from_NY

#Nobel Prize #Jews

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najia-cooks · 1 year ago

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[ID: The first image is of four stuffed artichoke hearts on a plate with a mound of rice and fried vermicelli; the second is a close-up on one artichoke, showing fried ground 'beef' and golden pine nuts. End ID]

أرضي شوكي باللحم / Ardiyy-shawkiyy b-al-lahm (Stuffed artichoke hearts)

Artichoke hearts stuffed with spiced meat make a common dish throughout West Asia and North Africa, with variations on the recipe eaten in Lebanon, Syria, Palestine, Algeria, and Morocco. In Palestine, the dish is usually served on special occasions, either as an appetizer, or as a main course alongside rice. The artichokes are sometimes paired with cored potatoes, which are stuffed and cooked in the same manner. Stuffed artichokes do not appear in Medieval Arab cookbooks (though artichokes do), but the dish's distribution indicates that its origin may be Ottoman-era, as many other maḥshis (stuffed dishes) are.⁩

The creation of this dish is easy enough once the artichoke hearts have been excavated (or, as the case may be, purchased frozen and thawed): they are briefly deep-fried, stuffed with ground meat and perhaps pine nuts, then stewed in water, or water and tomato purée, or stock, until incredibly tender.

While simple, the dish is flavorful and well-rounded. A squeeze of lemon complements the bright, subtle earthiness of the artichoke and cuts through the richness of the meat; the fried pine nuts provide a play of textures, and pick up on the slight nutty taste that artichokes are known for.

Terminology and etymology

Artichokes prepared in this way may be called "ardiyy-shawkiyy b-al-lahm." "Ardiyy-shawkiyy" of course means "artichoke"; "ب" ("b") means "with"; "ال" ("al") is the determiner "the"; and "لَحْم" ("laḥm") is "meat" (via a process of semantic narrowing from Proto-Semitic *laḥm, "food"). Other Palestinian Arabic names for the same dish include "أرضي شوكي محشي" ("ardiyy-shawkiyy maḥshi," "stuffed artichokes"), and "أرضي شوكي على ادامه" ("ardiyy-shawkiyy 'ala adama," "artichokes cooked in their own juice").

The etymology of the Levantine dialectical phrase meaning "artichoke" is interestingly circular. The English "artichoke" is itself ultimately from Arabic "الخُرْشُوف" ("al-khurshūf"); it was borrowed into Spanish (as "alcarchofa") during the Islamic conquest of the Iberian peninsula, and thence into English via the northern Italian "articiocco." The English form was probably influenced by the word "choke" via a process of phono-semantic matching—a type of borrowing wherein native words are found that sound similar to the foreign word ("phonetics"), and communicate qualities associated with the object ("semantics").

"Artichoke" then returned to Levantine Arabic, undergoing another process of phono-semantic matching to become "ardiyy-shawkiyy": أَرْضِيّ ("ʔarḍiyy") "earthly," from أَرْض‎ ("ʔarḍ"), "Earth, land"; and شَوْكِيّ ("shawkiyy") "prickly," from شَوْك‎ ("shawk"), "thorn."

Artichokes in Palestine

Artichoke is considered to be very healthful by Palestinian cooks, and it is recommended to also consume the water it is boiled in (which becomes delightfully savory and earthy, suitable as a broth for soup). In addition to being stuffed, the hearts may be chopped and cooked with meat or potatoes into a rich soup. These soups are enjoyed especially during Ramadan, when hot soup is popular regardless of the season—but the best season for artichokes in the Levant is definitively spring. Stuffed artichokes are thus often served by Jewish people in North Africa and West Asia during Passover.

Artichokes grow wild in Palestine, sometimes in fields adjacent to cultivated crops such as cereals and olives. Swiss traveler Johann Ludwig Burckhardt, writing in 1822, referred to the abundant wild artichoke plants (presumably Cynara syriaca) near لُوبْيا ("lūbyā"), a large village of stone buildings on a hilly landscape just west of طبريا ("ṭabariyya," Tiberias):

About half an hour to the N. E. [of Kefer Sebt (كفر سبط)] is the spring Ain Dhamy (عين ظامي), in a deep valley, from hence a wide plain extends to the foot of Djebel Tor; in crossing it, we saw on our right, about three quarters of an hour from the road, the village Louby (لوبي), and a little further on, the village Shedjare (شجره). The plain was covered with the wild artichoke, called khob (خُب); it bears a thorny violet coloured flower, in the shape of an artichoke, upon a stem five feet in height.

(Despite resistance from local militia and the Arab Liberation Army, Zionist military groups ethnically cleansed Lubya of its nearly 3,000 Palestinian Arab inhabitants in July of 1948, before reducing its buildings and wells to rubble, The Jewish National Fund later planted the Lavi pine forest over the ruins.)

Artichokes are also cultivated and marketed. Elihu Grant, nearly a century after Burckhardt's writing, noted that Palestinian villages with sufficient irrigation "[went] into gardening extensively," and marketed their goods in crop-poor villages or in city markets:

Squash, pumpkin, cabbage, cauliflower, lettuce, turnip, beet, parsnip, bean, pea, chick-pea, onion, garlic, leek, radish, mallow and eggplant are common varieties [of vegetable]. The buds of the artichoke when boiled make a delicious dish. Potatoes are getting to be quite common now. Most of them are still imported, but probably more and more success will be met in raising a native crop.

Either wild artichokes (C. syriaca) or cardoons (C. cardunculus, later domesticated to yield modern commerical artichokes) were being harvested and eaten by Jewish Palestinians in the 1st to the 3rd centuries AD (the Meshnaic Hebrew is "עַכָּבִיּוֹת", sg. "עַכָּבִית", "'aqubit"; related to the Arabic "⁧عَكُوب⁩" "'akūb," which refers to a different plant). The Tosefta Shebiit discusses how farmers should treat the sprouting of artichokes ("קינרסי," "qinrasi") during the shmita year (when fields are allowed to lie fallow), indicating that Jews were also cultivating artichokes at this time.

Though artichokes were persistently associated with wealth and the feast table (perhaps, Susan Weingarten speculates, because of the time they took to prepare), trimming cardoons and artichokes during festivals, when other work was prohibited, was within the reach of common Jewish people. Those in the "upper echelons of Palestinian Jewish society," on the other hand, had access to artichokes year-round, including (through expensive marvels of preservation and transport) when they were out of season.

Jewish life and cuisine

Claudia Roden writes that stuffed artichoke, which she refers to as "Kharshouf Mahshi" (خرشوف محشي), is "famous as one of the grand old Jerusalem dishes" among Palestinian Jews. According to her, the stuffed artichokes used to be dipped in egg and then bread crumbs and deep-fried. This breading and frying is still referenced, though eschewed, in modern Sephardi recipes.

Prior to the beginning of the first Aliyah (עלייה, wave of immigration) in 1881, an estimated 3% of the overall population of Palestine, or 15,011 people, were Jewish. This Jewish presence was not the result of political Zionist settler-colonialism of the kind facilitated by Britain and Zionist organizations; rather, it consisted of ancestrally Palestinian Jewish groups, and of refugees and religious immigrants who had been naturalized over the preceding decades or centuries.

One such Jewish community were the Arabic-speaking Jews whom the Sephardim later came to call "מוּסְתערבים" or "مستعربين" ("Musta'ravim" or "Musta'ribīn"; from the Arabic "مُسْتَعْرِب⁩" "musta'rib," "Arabized"), because they seemed indifferentiable from their Muslim neighbors. A small number of them were descendants of Jews from Galilee, which had had a significant Jewish population in the mid-1st century BC; others were "מגרבים" ("Maghrebim"), or "مغربية" ("Mughariba"): descendents of Jews from Northwest Africa.

Another major Jewish community in pre-mandate Palestine were Ladino-speaking descendents of Sephardi Jews, who had migrated to Palestine in the decades following their expulsion from Spain and then Portugal in the late 15th century. Though initially seen as foreign by the 'indigenous' Mista'avim, this community became dominant in terms of population and political influence, coming to define themselves as Ottoman subjects and as the representatives of Jews in Palestine.

A third, Yiddish- and German-speaking, Askenazi Jewish population also existed in Palestine, the result of immigration over the preceding centuries (including a large wave in 1700).

These various groups of Jewish Palestinians lived as neighbors in urban centers, differentiating themselves from each other partly by the language they spoke and partly by their dress (though Sephardim and Ashkenazim quickly learned Arabic, and many Askenazim and Muslims learned Ladino). Ashkenazi women also learned from Sephardim how to prepare their dishes. These groups' interfamiliarity with each other's cuisine is further evidenced by the fact that Arabic words for Palestinian dishes entered Ladino and Yiddish (e.g. "كُفْتَة" / "kufta," rissole; "مَزَّة⁩" "mazza," appetizer); and words entered Arabic from Ladino (e.g. "דונסי" "donsi," sweet jams and fruit leather; "בוריק" "burek," meat and cheese pastries; "המים" "hamim," from "haminados," braised eggs) and Yiddish (e.g. "לעקעך‎" "lakach," honey cake).

In addition to these 'native' Jews were another two waves of Ashkenazi migration in the late 18th and early-to-mid 19th centuries (sometimes called the "היישוב הישן," "ha-yishuv ha-yashan," "old settlement," though the term is often used more broadly); and throughout the previous centuries there had also been a steady trickle of religious immigration, including elderly immigrants who wished to die in Jerusalem in order to be present at the appointed place on the day of Resurrection. Recent elderly women immigrants unable to receive help from charitable institutions would rely on the community for support, in exchange helping the young married women of the neighborhood with childcare and with the shaping of pastries ("מיני מאפה").

In the first few centuries AD, the Jewish population of Palestine were largely farmers and agricultural workers in rural areas. By the 16th century, however, most of the Jewish population resided in the Jewish Holy Cities of Jerusalem (القُدس / al-quds), Hebron (الخليل / al-khalil), Safed (صفد), and Tiberias (طبريا / ṭabariyya). In the 19th century, the Jewish population lived entirely in these four cities and in expanding urban centers Jaffa and Haifa, alongside Muslims and Christians. Jerusalem in particular was majority Jewish by 1880.

In the 19th century, Jewish women in Jerusalem, like their Christian and Muslim neighbors, used communal ovens to bake the bread, cakes, matzah, cholent, and challah which they prepared at home. One woman recalls that bread would be sent to the baker on Mondays and Thursdays—but bribes could be offered in exchange for fresh bread on Shabbat. Charges would be by the item, or else a fixed monthly payment.

Trips to the ovens became social events, as women of various ages—while watching the bakers, who might not put a dish in or take it out in time—sent up a "clatter" of talking. During religious feast days, with women busy in the kitchen, some families might send young boys in their stead.

Markets and bakeries in Jerusalem sold bread of different 'grades' based on the proportion of white and wheat flour they contained; as well as flatbread (خبز مفرود / חובז מפרוד / khobbiz mafroud), Moroccan מאווי' / ماوي / meloui, and semolina breads (כומאש / كماج / kmaj) which Maghrebim especially purchased for the Sabbath.

On the Sabbath, those who had brick ovens in their sculleries would keep food, and water for tea and coffee, warm from the day before (since religious law prohibits performing work, including lighting fires, on Shabbat); those who did not would bring their food to the oven of a neighbor who did.

Palestinian Jewish men worked in a variety of professions: they were goldsmiths, writers, doctors, merchants, scientists, linguists, carpenters, and religious scholars. Jewish women, ignoring prohibitions, engaged in business, bringing baked goods and extra dairy to markets in Jerusalem, grinding and selling flour, spinning yarn, and making clothing (usually from materials purchased from Muslims); they were also shopkeepers and sellers of souvenirs and wine. Muslims, Jews, and Christians shared residential courtyards, pastimes, commercial enterprises, and even holidays and other religious practices.

Zionism and Jewish Palestinians

Eastern European Zionists in the 1880s and 90s were ambivalent towards existing Jewish communities in Palestine, often viewing them as overly traditional and religious, backwards-thinking, and lacking initiative. Jewish Palestinians did not seem to conform with the land-based, agricultural, and productivist ideals of political Zionist thinkers; they were integrated into the Palestinian economy (rather than seeking to create their own, segregated one); they were not working to create a Jewish ethnostate in Palestine, and seemed largely uninterested in nationalist concerns. Thus they were identified with Diaspora Jewish culture, which was seen as a remnant of exile and oppression to be eschewed, reformed, or overthrown.

These attitudes were applied especially to Sephardim and Mista'arevim, who were frequently denigrated in early Zionist literature. In 1926, Revisionist Zionist leader Vladimir Jabotinsky wrote that the "Jews, thank God, have nothing in common with the East. We must put an end to any trace of the Oriental spirit in the Jews of Palestine." The governance of Jewish communities was, indeed, changed with the advent of the British Mandate (colonial rule which allowed the British to facilitate political Zionist settling), as European political and "socialist" Zionists promoted Ashkenazi over Sephardi leadership.

Under the Ottomans, the millet system had allowed a degree of Jewish and Christian autonomy in matters of religious study and leadership, cultural and legal affairs, and the minting of currency. The religious authority of all Jewish people in Palestine had been the Sephardi Rabbi of Jerusalem, and his authority on matters of Jewish law (like the authority of the Armenian Patriarchate on matters of Christian law) extended outside of Palestine.

But British and European funding allowed newer waves of Ashkenazi settlers (sometimes called "היישוב החדש," "ha-yishuv ha-khadash," "new settlement")—who, at least if they were to live out the ideals of their sponsors, were more secular and nationalist-minded than the prior waves of Ashkenazi immigration—to be de facto independent of Sephardi governance. Several factors lead to the drying up of halaka (donated funds intended to be used for communal works and the support of the poor in Sephardi communities), which harmed Sephardim economically.

Zionist ideas continued to dominate newly formed committees and programs, and Palestinian and Sephardi Jews reported experiences of racial discrimination, including job discrimination, leading to widespread poverty. The "Hebrew labor" movement, which promoted a boycott of Palestinian labor and produce, in fact marginalized all workers racialized as Arab, and promises of work in Jewish labor unions were divided in favor of Ashkenazim to the detriment of Sephardim and Mizrahim. This economic marginalization coincided with the "social elimination of shared indigenous [Palestinian] life" in the Zionist approach to indigenous Jews and Muslims.

Despite the adversarial, disdainful, and sometimes abusive relationship which the European Zionist movement had with "Oriental" Jews, their presence is frequently used in Zionist food and travel writing to present Israel as a multicultural and pluralist state. Dishes such as stuffed artichokes are claimed as "Israeli"—though they were eaten by Jews in Palestine prior to the existence of the modern state of Israel, and though Sephardi and Mizrahi diets were once the target of a civilizing, correcting mission by Zionist nutritionists. The deep-frying that stuffed artichokes call for brings to mind European Zionists' half-fascinated, half-disgusted attitudes towards falafel. The point is not to claim a dish for any one national or ethnic group—which is, more often than not, an exercise in futility and even absurdity—but to pay attention to how the rhetoric of food writing can obscure political realities and promote the colonizer's version of history. The sinking of Jewish Palestinian life prior to the advent of modern political Zionism, and the corresponding insistence that it was Israel that brought "Jewish cuisine" to Palestine, allow for such false dichotomies as "Jewish-Palestinian relations" or "Jewish-Arab relations"; these descriptors further Zionist rhetoric by making a clear situation of ethnic cleansing and settler-colonialism sound like a complex and delicate issue of inter-ethnic conflict. To boot, the presentation of these communities as having merely paved the way to Zionist nationalism ignores their existence as groups with their own political, social, and cultural lives and histories.

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Ingredients:

Serves 4 (as a main dish).

For the artichokes:

6 fresh, very large artichokes; or frozen (not canned) whole artichoke hearts

1 lemon, quartered (if using fresh artichokes)

250g (1 1/2 cups) vegetarian ground beef substitute; or 3/4 cup TVP hydrated with 3/4 cup vegetarian 'beef' stock from concentrate

1 yellow onion, minced

Scant 1/2 tsp kosher salt

1/2 tsp ground black pepper

1 pinch ground cardamom (optional)

1/4 tsp ground allspice or seb'a baharat (optional)

1 Tbsp pine nuts (optional)

Water, to simmer

Oil, to fry

2 tsp vegetarian 'beef' stock concentrate, to simmer (optional)

Lemon, to serve

Larger artichokes are best, to yield hearts 3-4 inches in width once all leaves are removed. If you only have access to smaller artichokes, you may need to use 10-12 to use up all the filling; you might also consider leaving some of the edible internal leaves on.

The meat may be spiced to taste. Sometimes only salt and black pepper are used; some Palestinian cooks prefer to include seb'a baharat, white pepper, allspice, nutmeg, cardamom, and/or cinnamon.

Medieval Arab cookbooks sometimes call for vegetables to be deep-fried in olive oil (see Fiḍālat al-Khiwān fī Ṭayyibāt al-Ṭaʿām wa-l-Alwān, chapter 6, recipe no. 373, which instructs the reader to treat artichoke hearts this way). You may use olive oil, or a neutral oil such as canola or sunflower (as is more commonly done in Palestine today).

Elihu Grant noted in 1921 that lemon juice was often served with stuffed vegetable dishes; today stuffed artichokes are sometimes served with lemon.

For the rice:

200g Egyptian rice (or substitute any medium-grained white rice)

2 tsp broken semolina vermicelli (شعيريه) (optional)

1 tsp olive oil (optional)

Large pinch salt

520g water, or as needed

Broken semolina vermicelli (not rice vermicelli!) can be found in plastic bags at halal grocery stores.

Instructions:

For the stuffed artichokes:

1. Prepare the artichoke hearts. Cut off about 2/3 of the top of the artichoke (I find that leaving at least some of the stem on for now makes it easier to hollow out the base of the artichoke heart without puncturing it).

2. Pull or cut away the tough outer bracts ("leaves") of the artichoke until you get to the tender inner leaves, which will appear light yellow all the way through. As you work, rub a lemon quarter over the sides of the artichoke to prevent browning.

3. If you see a sharp indentation an inch or so above the base of the artichoke, use kitchen shears or a sharp knife to trim off the leaves above it and form the desired bowl shape. Set aside trimmings for a soup or stew.

4. Use a small spoon to remove the purple leaves and fibers from the center of the artichoke. Make sure to scrape the spoon all along the bottom and sides of the artichoke and get all of the fibrous material out.

5. Use a paring knife to remove any remaining tough bases of removed bracts and smooth out the base of the artichoke heart. Cut off the entire stem, so that the heart can sit flat, like a bowl.

6. Place the prepared artichoke heart in a large bowl of water with some lemon juice squeezed into it. Repeat with each artichoke.

7. Drain artichoke hearts and pat dry. Heat a few inches of oil in a pot or wok on medium and fry artichoke hearts, turning over occasionally, for a couple minutes until lightly browned. If you don't want to deep-fry, you can pan-fry in 1 cm or so of oil, flipping once. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain.

8. Prepare the filling. Heat 1 tsp of olive oil in a large skillet on medium-high and fry onions, agitating often, until translucent.

Tip: Some people add the pine nuts and brown them at this point, to save a step later. If you do this, they will of course be mixed throughout the filling rather than being a garnish on top.

9. Add spices, salt, and meat substitute and fry, stirring occasionally, until meat is browned. (If using TVP, brown it by allowing it to sit in a single layer undisturbed for 3-4 minutes, then stir and repeat.) Taste and adjust spices and salt.

10. Heat 1 Tbsp of olive oil or margarine in a small pan on medium-low. Add pine nuts and fry, stirring constantly, until they are a light golden brown, then remove with a slotted spoon. Note that, once they start taking on color, they will brown very quickly and must be carefully watched. They will continue to darken after they are removed from the oil, so remove them when they are a shade lighter than desired.

11. Stuff the artichoke hearts. Fill the bowl of each heart with meat filling, pressing into the bottom and sides to fill completely. Top with fried pine nuts.

12. Cook the artichoke hearts. Place the stuffed artichoke hearts in a single layer at the bottom of a large stock pot, along with any extra filling (or save extra filling to stuff peppers, eggplant, zucchini, or grape leaves).

13. Whisk stock concentrate into several cups of just-boiled water, if using—if not, whisk in about a half teaspoon of salt. Pour hot salted water or stock into the pot to cover just the bottoms of the stuffed artichokes.

14. Simmer, covered, for 15-20 minutes, until the artichokes are tender. Simmer uncovered for another 5-10 minutes to thicken the sauce.

For the rice:

1. Rinse your rice once by placing it in a sieve, putting the sieve in a closely fitting bowl, then filling the bowl with water; rub the rice between your fingers to wash, and remove the sieve from the bowl to strain.

2. Place a bowl on a kitchen scale and tare. Add the rice, then add water until the total weight is 520g. (This will account for the amount of water stuck to the rice from rinsing.)

3. (Optional.) In a small pot with a close-fitting lid, heat 1 tsp olive oil. Add broken vermicelli and fry, agitating often, until golden brown.

4. Add the rice and water to the pot and stir. Increase heat to high and allow water to come to a boil. Cover the pot and lower heat to a simmer. Cook the rice for 15 minutes. Remove from heat and steam for 10 minutes.

To serve:

1. Plate artichoke hearts on a serving plate alongside rice and lemon wedges; or, place artichoke hearts in a shallow serving dish, pour some of their cooking water in the base of the dish, and serve rice on a separate plate.

Tip: The white flesh at the base of the bracts (or "leaves") that you removed from the artichokes for this recipe is also edible. Try simmering removed leaves in water, salt, and a squeeze of lemon for 15 minutes, then scraping the bract between your teeth to eat the flesh.

#Palestinian #Levantine #vegan recipes #artichokes #Passover #Pesach #long post /

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wooziorgans · 1 year ago

Text

how to kill the sun || ljh

pairing: idol!jihoon x non idol!reader. gn!reader.

genre: nsfw! MDNI. fluff. friends to lovers.

description: jihoon comes home after work a little more drunk than he anticipated. he finds y/n on his couch waiting for his return, shining as bright as the sun in the dim lights of his living room.

warnings: fluff oh my god so many feeling. idiots in love with each other. mentions of alcohol consumption. jihoon with long hair omgomgomg. pet names (angle, baby, love, etc.).

word count: 9.5k

NSFW TAGS UNDER THE CUT.

nsfw warnings MDNI: p w a little plot. jihoon has such a big praise kink :(((. feelings during sex. penetrative sex. pussy drunk jihoon. aftercare. reader has female anatomy. soft sex. oral (both receiving). getting absolutely manhandled by this guys big ass arms. big dick jihoon amen. holding hands during sex seriously they’re so in love with each other. unprotected sex (don’t do this). hair pulling. a little choking. a hand job that lasts maybe two seconds. fingering. kind of?? possessive??? jihoon???. marriage??? kink??? implied??? idk what happened to me when I wrote this.

a/n: i tried to keep things as gn as possible but it was a little hard,,, n e ways. enjoy!!

jihoon <3 [17:24]

the guys want to get drinks after work. i tried to tell them we have plans but they won’t listen :(

just let yourself in. i’ll be home around 7:30?

i’m really sorry that i haven’t been able to see you lately. :((

This stream of text messages came almost two hours ago. The clock was ticking down to Jihoon’s arrival. Y/N sat comfortably on his couch, watching some shitty reality show they weren’t paying much attention to. A hoodie they stole from Jihoon’s closet enveloped them loosely. It was the only thing covering their torso. An equally loose pair of shorts sat around their thighs.

The soft click of the lock resonates through the apartment. Jihoon’s home. They shift back onto the couch, getting comfortable. Some shuffling is heard as Jihoon slips off his shoes and jacket.

He slides into the kitchen, glancing into the living room. The soft drone of the television brings his attention to the figure in front of the screen. Y/N sits back on the couch, the small throw blanket covering their legs. The ottoman is already pulled up to the couch, serving as a foot rest. It matches the L sectional couch. “Hoon? You home?” They call, hearing the shuffle of Jihoon’s feet.

He hums, setting his keys on the counter before he stumbles softly over his feet on his way to the couch. “Sorry. I drank a bit more than I wanted to.” Despite the obvious alcohol in his system, his speech is still coherent. He takes a seat on the couch right next to Y/N. They shift, moving closer to him.

Jihoon rests his head against their shoulder. “Missed you,” he breathes, resting an arm around their shoulder, “a lot. So much.” Moments like these were rare with Jihoon. Despite how he normally shied away from any form of affection, when he was drunk (which was a very new experience for everyone around him) he was incredibly clingy. Especially when it came to Y/N.

“God, you really are drunk.” Y/N laughs softly, running a careful hand through his hair. “Do you still want to watch a movie? Or do you want to sleep?” His eyes flutter shut carefully.

“Jus’ wanna be with you.” He tightens his arms around them, digging his face into their neck. Y/N pets his hair and he hums. His lips fall open against the skin of Y/N’s neck. “I love you.” He breathes. It feels like a confession.

Y/N swallows sharply. Though love was very present in their friendship with Jihoon, it was always easier done than said. He never said it, and now here he was, drunk and clinging to Y/N like his life depends on it. “I love you too.” Y/N swallows, adjusting their position on the couch. “Let’s go to sleep, okay?” Jihoon just nods with a soft groan.

He falls asleep slowly, resting more of his weight onto Y/N’s shoulder. His head falls onto their chest. Y/N slides down the back of the couch, laying down. They carefully support Jihoon’s neck, making sure not to move too fast in order to let him rest. His head rests on their chest. It feels a little crushing, for many reasons; but it’s comfortable. Maybe because it’s Jihoon. Y/N closes their eyes, fixing a hand in Jihoon’s hair. They fall asleep quickly in only the dim light of the television which screen is now black, and the piercing beam of the moon.

It’s the sunlight that wakes Jihoon up. A stray beam pushing through the blinds, hitting his eyes directly. He groans softly, shifting. It takes him a few seconds to realize he’s not in his bed, but instead on the couch, laying on top of Y/N. His face flushes softly at the realization but before he can pull himself away he feels them shift.

Jihoon cranes his head up to look at Y/N. The soft dust of orange light on their skin makes them glow. They look so beautiful like this, resting peacefully. A piece of hair falls in their face, and he carefully brushes it away from their face.

The hand resting on his neck moves up and tightens in his hair.

“Mm. Morning,” Y/N groans softly, running a gentle hand through his grown out hair. It’s soft, despite the product still in it from the day before. Jihoon freezes, all thoughts of moving away disappear. All he can feel is the heat of the morning sun and the warmth on his face and ears.

Their eyelashes flutter against their cheeks, and Jihoon stares with an apologetic expression, trying to pull himself away slowly. “Morning. D’you remember last night?” He asks, not totally thinking about what he’s saying.

“Yeah. Do you?” They tease, sleep still heavy in their voice. He hums. Y/N slides their hands over Jihoon’s back. “C’mere.” Y/N tugs at his shirt. He shifts over, laying more directly on Y/N. They open their eyes, looking down at him.

A tender hand slides further down his back, toying with the hem of his shirt which had been pulled up in his sleep. He freezes, a harsh chill running up his spine. The warmth on Y/N’s hands immediately spreads a wave of electricity through his body.

“Are you sure you’re not still drunk? You never let me cuddle you like this, Ji.” They laugh softly, carefully pushing their hand under the hem of his shirt. Jihoon lifts his neck, as if to say something. Instead, he closed his eyes and takes a deep breath. His chest tightens softly; his breathing gets a little more shallow.

The recollection of his drunk actions is enough to make him flush deeper. With a hand slowly sliding up his back, he loses all train of thought. He shivers again from the careful fingers grazing his skin. Y/N pulls their hand away carefully, afraid that they overstepped some kind of unspoken boundary. Jihoon’s head shoots up, suddenly insecure that his reaction made them uncomfortable.

Y/N lowers their hand back onto Jihoon’s skin. Another hot wave flashes through his body. His breath quickens even more. A soft gasp falls from his lips as Y/N curls their fingers, nails digging softly into the canyon of his spine, scratching his skin. He involuntarily arches up into their touch.

“You a little nervous baby?” Y/N laughs softly. “Don’t worry, Ji. I’ll take care of you.” They move their hands up, now resting them on his shoulder blades.

Jihoon’s breath gets shorter, his brain short circuiting. He bites his lip, suppressing a soft moan. Despite how intimate this was, he was getting into the rhythm; so much so that it was beginning to feel natural. He had never really expected something like this to happen, and he definitely never expected this from Y/N.

They gasp softly at the soft noise that doesn’t quite leave his lips. “You like that?” Y/N digs their nails into his skin a little harder.

As much as he did like the soft sting of their nails, he hated the way Y/N was able to see right through him. It was something unique to them. It was something none of his other friends has the ability to do. This was one of the reasons the two had formed an incredibly strong friendship extraordinarily fast.

God, he loved the way they were talking to him. Y/N knew just as much from the way he would look at them, somehow managing to avoid eye contact. Fuck, was he blushing? One hand slides out of his shirt, up to the back of his neck. It burrows itself into his hair again. He leans into the hand in his hair.

“Fuck, angel. Come here.” Y/N coos, pushing Jihoon’s legs open with theirs. Jihoon steadies himself with his arms, holding himself over Y/N as they hook their legs into his and pull their body down the cushions of the couch. Y/N exhales deeply once their face is in line with Jihoon’s.

Jihoon feels a weird pang of anxiety in his chest. His breath drops when Y/N’s lips get in line with his. He bites his lip once again, feeling his heart leap to his throat. Though there was no kiss, an unspoken promise hung in the air. It refracted through the sunlight, adding sparkles in its path. Or maybe it was dust.

“Do you want to kiss me Ji?” Y/N breathes against Jihoon’s lips. Moving the hand that was nestled in his hair, Y/N cups the side of his face, moving down to stroke the corner of his mouth with their thumb.

Their hands were so soft against his cheek. He swallows hard, silently hoping Y/N would just kiss him. His breath was short and his eyes didn’t have the courage to look at theirs.

“Answer me baby.” They coo, rubbing their thumb against the corner of his mouth. He parts his lips automatically. He nods suddenly, all of the touching catching up with him. They slide their finger over his bottom lip. “Use your words.” Y/N presses their finger into his lip. He swallows.

“I want to kiss you,” He breathes in a whisper. After everything, never did he quite expect to be saying these words this early in the morning. Especially not under the warm glow of the sun. He had hoped Y/N would kiss him after his drunken confession last night. Now, he was looking at their lips with his so, so close to theirs.

“How bad?” Y/N pushes their thumb against his lip, their finger softly grazes his teeth. Fuck, this was so intimate. Jihoon felt like he was going to lose it— something; anything. He needed anything more. All he could focus on was how soft their skin was and how warm their breath is against his lips. “How bad Jihoon?” They ask again, pushing their thumb between his teeth.

His arms shake, a little weaker at the action. A soft sigh falls from his lips, but it’s whiny. He tried to speak, but his throat felt so tight. He was panting; his breathing was almost erratic. He thought about how much he’s wanted to kiss them; how much he needs to. And then he’s saying it, the words falling out of his mouth so fast he doesn’t comprehend speaking them until seconds later.

“Shit. That’s my boy.” Y/N removed their thumb from his lip. It glistens in the sunlight. He whines softly, adjusting to align himself to a better angle with their lips. He finally lets himself make eye contact with Y/N. “There’s my pretty boy.” They smile at him, soft and fond.

He preens at the pet name, his whole body getting hotter. God, Jihoon had no idea his body could feel so on fire like this. He mustered up the courage to touch them. A tentative hand falls on the side of Y/N’s face. They close their eyes softly, leaning into his hand. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you like this.” Y/N huffs out, using their own hand to guide Jihoon’s thumb over their lips. His thumb rests on their bottom lip before he brushes it back, touching the side of their mouth which is now hung open in slight disbelief.

Y/N shudders out a breath as one leg wraps around Jihoon’s waist. “Think you can kiss me now?” Y/N asks, their breath hot on Jihoon’s lips. Their hands are back in his hair, digging into his scalp. Jihoon inhales sharply. Y/N’s hands felt like an invitation; one that Jihoon is more than eager to accept. He slowly tilts his head to the side, using his arm that was still bracing the couch to lower his body.

“You’re so pretty,” Y/N says, looking directly into his eyes, “have I ever told you that?” Jihoon immediately tucks his face into his shoulder, blushing deeply. Yes, you have called me pretty before. Jihoon thinks. Only when you’re drunk.

Y/N laughs softly. They use the hands in his hair to guide his head back to its previous position. The sound makes his heart batter against his ribcage. All he wants right now is Y/N. He’s never been so sure of anything.

“Wanna kiss you so bad, Ji.” Y/N whispers. Jihoon moans. The leg around his waist pulls him in tighter as Y/N’s hands drag his face closer by the neck. They gasp softly at the sound, back arching off the couch.

Jihoon can’t think right now. All of his senses are filled with Y/N. All he wanted right now was for their lips to come closer. The soft pang of hunger inside him was getting much stronger. He had been trying to keep himself in check, but Y/N’s words and touch were too much. They were driving him crazy. And then he decided he couldn’t wait anymore. He pulls himself closer to Y/N, head tilting slight. His lips hover over theirs and he’s so, so close. As much as he hated it, he pulled his body closer to theirs.

His lips brush against Y/N’s and he pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth. All of the blood in his body seemed to rush to his head, making his ears burn. Y/N stutters out a breath as they move their hands to cup his face. Finally, Jihoon lets himself give in. He tilts his head a little more, releasing his lip from his teeth and placing a soft kiss against Y/N’s lips.

His whole body burns, like he’s running a fever. He might as well be, with the way his whole body is on fire and his head is spinning so much. Y/N gasps softly and it’s just enough to put his brain into overdrive. The careful press of his lips starts to melt away as his jaw moves in sync with Y/N’s. His hand slides to their neck.

Y/N’s hands slide around his body, back to his shirt and up the bare skin of his neck. His nerves were too sensitive; the rake of their nails against his skin was too much. He’s genuinely starting to sweat, a pleasant wave of heat firing through his whole body. His lips faulter as he pushes a whine back down his throat. Jihoon can only imagine how much heat he’s radiating right now. Y/N pulls away slowly.

“You feeling a little warm?” Y/N’s lips glisten. He nods, despite suddenly feeling cold. Everything about them was getting him hot.

“Take this off then.” Y/N suggests, tugging at the bottom of his shirt, which had been pulled halfway up his back. The small action made him realize how much their hands had been on him. It fills his face with a heat that spreads through his body; one that ultimately settles back on his cheeks. He nods, using his core to hold himself over Y/N as he slips the lose shirt over his head. He throws it on the ottoman.

Y/N stares at his chest as he sits on their legs to discard the shirt. They run a hand over his chest, hooking their fingers in his necklace; they move even slower over his nipples. “This is what you’ve been hiding from me? God, you’re ripped.” They ask, hand settling on his hips with their thumbs resting on the edge of his abs. He laughs, embarrassed. His necklace refracts the sunlight.

He’s always worn a shirt when going to a pool or the beach with Y/N. He was always so respectful, choosing to wear a shirt when they were around. Now? Y/N’s kind of mad he’s been keeping this a secret for so long. From them specifically.

He sits upright on their legs for a few moments before he leans back over, using his arms to hold himself up. Y/N’s hands find their way to the sides of Jihoon’s face. The cool metal of his necklace brushes the material of Y/N’s— Jihoon’s— hoodie.

He closes his eyes letting Y/N feel him up. He gasps softly as one hand trails down the bare skin of his chest. A careful finger curls and Y/N runs their digit over the ridge of his abs. Their nail catches on the band of his black sweat pants before they move it back up to his chest. Their hand settles flat against his sternum.

Then it’s hooking softly in his necklace, pulling him back into a soft kiss. Jihoon can’t stop his hand from sliding under the hoodie that sits loosely on Y/N’s frame. It brushes their side, making them shiver into the kiss. He felt like he was melting, his own nails softly scratching down their side. Y/N gasps softly, biting Jihoon’s lip.

Their hands move on autopilot as one rests back on his neck and the other slides down his back, brushing the hem of his pants. Jihoon groans, pushing more of himself into the kiss that had unintentionally paused.

Jihoon carefully pushes his tongue past his lips. The muscle slides against Y/N’s lips, asking for permission. It’s granted as they part their lips. He slides his tongue in between their teeth, feeling the slide of their tongue against his. It’s so good. Y/N moans softly into his mouth and it sends his brain into overdrive.

He adds more force to the kiss, his hand sliding up their side under his hoodie. A small possessive streak burns through him and he feels like he might pass out. His hand caresses the skin of their stomach, feeling the inner lining of his hoodie. Oh, that’s all Y/N was wearing. Jihoon blushes hard at this; he spent the whole night laying on their chest with such a small barrier between their skin.

His eyes roll back into his head as he starts to grab at the skin, moving his hand up. His fingers dance across their ribs, before running over their chest. He settles his thumb against their nipple. The soft moan Y/N breathes into his mouth makes his hips involuntarily rut into nothing.

Y/N pushes a leg in between Jihoon’s, their hands fidgeting with the hem of his sweats. Jihoon grinds his hips again, this time against the thigh that’s now between his legs. He gasps, a small whine leaving his throat. Fuck, that was hot, Y/N thinks, hooking a finger under his waistband. “God. Please tell me you want this.” Jihoon whines. Y/N pauses, jaw hung open catching their breath.

“So bad Jihoon.” They gasp as Jihoon flicks his thumb against the soft skin of their nipple. “We have so much to talk about but right now, god, don’t stop touching me.” Jihoon leans down, placing a small kiss to their jaw. In leaning down, his crotch drags against their thigh. It’s the first bit of friction that registers in his brain. He moans, the sound muted against Y/N’s jaw. Shit, he’s so hard.

Y/N can feel the weight of his erection against their thigh and it makes their head spin. Jihoon places soft kisses along their jaw, sliding down their neck before he settles on a place to mark. Soft kisses litter the skin of Y/N’s neck.

And then he sucks on the sensitive skin, causing Y/N to arch their back off the couch. “Oh my god. Jihoon, please.” They pant, hands back in his hair as they tug at the strands near his scalp. He moans a little louder than he would have liked to. His hips drag across Y/N’s thigh again, harder. They move their hand back to his sweats, not quite being able to make up their mind.

As he licks a sucks at their neck, they pull the strings of his sweats undone. “Shit. Not here.” Jihoon suddenly pulls away. Y/N looks up at him through hooded eyes, confused. “Not on the couch, baby. Let me take you to my room at least.” He clarifies, panting.

The heat on his face spreads down his neck as he speaks. Y/N nods, wrapping their arms around his neck and their legs around his waist. If it wasn’t for the sheer amount of strength they knew Jihoon had, they would have worried about accidentally pinning him to the couch like this.

Instead, he wraps his arm around their back under the sweater. With a strained breath, he flexes the muscles of his stomach and gets on his knees. Y/N gasps, still gripping onto him, though they know he won’t drop them. He turns his body, adjusting his legs so he’s sitting on the couch in a normal position. He pushes the ottoman away from the couch with his legs, clearing a path to exit the living room.

Y/N pulls their head up, placing soft kisses to his neck. He shudders as he stands up, arms still around their back as one slides down to their ass. He places it carefully under their legs, to better support their weight. He walks rather quickly to his room, releasing the hand from under Y/N’s ass to twist the doorknob open.

His room is flooded with sunlight from the large window which blinds have been opened. He sits quickly on his bed. Y/N takes advantage of this to straddle his lap. They grab the sides of his face, kissing him back onto the bed. “Shit. Fuck, you’re so pretty.” They gasp against him, causing him to whine again. “You sound so pretty, Jihoon.” He has no time to reply before he’s being kissed again, but he moans into it. It’s enough of a reply.

Y/N starts rocking their hips against Jihoon. The heat between their legs sits right over where he wants it to. He moans, audibly this time, not trying to suppress it against their lips. Y/N kisses him harder, feeling his hidden cock drag against their core. Shit, he’s huge.

Jihoon slides his hands under the sweater again. The fabric moves with his hands. Y/N sits up, pulling the fabric over their head. Jihoon stares as what he has only ever dreamed of stares him right in the face. The smooth skin of Y/N’s chest and stomach glow, quite literally, in the sunlight. Their skin has a golden hue to it and it looks like it’s sparkling.

Jihoon feels like he’s staring straight into the sun. The sight is so blinding.

He can’t help the hand that reached out, pretty fingers dancing across the skin of their stomach. It makes Y/N shiver. They let him have his moment, the same they had theirs when he took his shirt off— what feels like hours ago now.

Jihoon’s cock twitches so hard at the way they seem to chase every single one of his delicate touches. Y/N feels it happen against them. “Holy shit, I’m in love with you.” Jihoon whispers, one hand travelling to grab Y/N’s. The way Y/N moans quietly as he says it sends heat through his entire body.

Y/N interlaces their fingers with his. Jihoon feels his breath catch in his throat; his chest starts fluttering. “Jihoon, baby, shit—“ Y/N grinds down against Jihoon’s cock, his grip on their hand tightens. They look down at him, making direct eye contact.

His long eyelashes flutter delicately against his cheek. The sunlight shines through his eyes, making the normally dark irises appear far more intricate with a new golden hue. “I love you; I’m so in love with you. Shit, can’t believe it’s taken me this long to admit it.”

Neither of them can believe Y/N’s words. Not with the way the two of them are touching each other. Not with the way they kiss like it’s all they have. Not with the way Y/N looks in the sunlight. Especially not with the way Jihoon looks in the morning sun; all golden and beautiful, as out of breath as he is lovely. He looks like the sun.

“You look like the sun, baby. Like you have the stars in your eyes,” Y/N speaks their thoughts so clearly it catches Jihoon off guard. He chuckles deeply; the vibrations shoot straight through Y/N.

“I do.” He huffs, “I’m looking at you.” Y/N hides their face in their neck. Jihoon sighs. “Look me angel. Keep looking at me.” When he talks to them like that, it’s impossible not to. “There’s my baby.” The pet names ignite something in Y/N.

A careful hand finds the strings of Jihoon’s sweat pants. His free hand rests on their hip. They play with the strings before eventually slipping a finger under the waist band. The waistband of Jihoon’s boxers slides past their finger. “Wanna feel you. Please,” Jihoon’s cock twitches as Y/N shifts back on his legs, sitting perfectly on his thighs. “Please let me touch you, Jihoon.” He moans.

The way Y/N says his name is legitimately like a drug; he wants them to say it like this everyday, every time. He’s nodding, removing his hand from their hip to lift his hips off his bed. He pushes a hand under the waist band. Y/N uses theirs to move the other side.

With minimal struggle, which is incredibly surprising considering how much neither of them wanted to let go of the other’s hand, his pants and boxers reach the middle of his thigh. It’s enough to allow him to shift the rest of the way out of black sweat pants and matching boxers. They're kicked off the bed. Y/N gasps as his cock slaps the base of his stomach.

Jihoon looks away, half from embarrassment, half the give himself a break from the way Y/N stares at him. “You’re huge.” Y/N breathes. They swallow audibly, a small gasp leaving their lips. You’ve also been hiding this from me? They want to ask. Instead, they wrap their hand carefully around the base of Jihoon’s dick. It’s so heavy.

He hisses, back arching off the bed. “Oh my god. Need you to touch me.” Jihoon gasps, his teeth catching his bottom lip in between them. His eyes close as he steadies himself. There’s a brief moment of nothing before he feels it. A bead of spit slides down the head of his cock.

He looks back to Y/N immediately, seeing the origin of the drop still stuck on their bottom lip. He moans. The drop falls down his shaft, meeting the tip of Y/N’s finger. They give a slow pump to his cock and he hisses again. His grip on their hand tightens, and Y/N squeezes back.

“Careful baby,” they coo, “it’s okay. You’re okay. Let me make you feel good.” All he can do is nod. He bites his lip a little harder, enough for it to start to sting as the next stroke moves back up, squeezing a little more as Y/N’s hands get closer to his tip. “It’s so pretty Jihoon. You’ve such a pretty cock, fuck.” They slur, giving an experimental swipe of their thumb to the head of his cock. Jihoon gasps. His free hand moves to his sheets as his fingers curl tightly into the fabric.

Y/N does it again, this time sliding their thumb over his slit. His eyes shoot open with a curse, “Angel, please.” He whines. Y/N spits again, this time audibly. It makes Jihoon’s eyes roll back softly. A much bigger drop of spit falls against the side of his cock.

It makes him shiver. Y/N moves their hand up and down at a much faster pace. Jihoon’s head falls back again. He whines, lip still tight between his teeth. He’s swears he’s going to draw blood if they keep this up.

Y/N begins shifting, getting on their knees to place one of their own between Jihoon’s legs, spreading him open. They slide back, leaning over the head of his cock. They place a soft kiss to Jihoon’s tip. “Holy fuck!” He gasps, hand finding its way to their neck. He pushes his hand up into their hair. A soft lick slides over his slit.

Y/N’s tongue is welcomed with a salty drop of pre-cum. They moan, latching their lips over the head of Jihoon’s cock. The stretch from just his tip is completely foreign. There’s no way this blow job is going to go well for Y/N; it seems to be going great for Jihoon. He’s just so thick.

Jihoon brushes Y/N’s hair out of their face as they suck carefully on his head. “Jus’ like that, angel. Fuck, just like that.” Jihoon moans as Y/N flicks their tongue on the underside of his head. They can taste the precum on their tongue. Jihoon’s hand tightens in their hair as they slowly take more of him into their mouth.

His thighs shake as half of his cock slips inside Y/N’s mouth. He feels his tip hit the back of their throat and then he’s gone.

He slips his hand out of Y/N’s, a soft pang in his chest as he does so. His now free hand finds its way to their hair. He digs his fingers into the stands; his hips bucking up involuntarily. He lets out a loud, low moan when he feels the muscles in their throat constrict, taking him down their throat.

“You’re so good at this, fuck.” He hisses, eyes rolling back as his hair falls in his face. “Thought about your mouth so much.” Another confession slips past his lips. This one makes Y/N hum around him.

He gasps as Y/N starts bobbing their head, hands wrapped around whatever they can’t fit. It’s a substantial amount left outside of their mouth— really, it’s quite impressive how well endowed Jihoon is and how he’s done such a good job to hide it.

Though, thinking back to all of their trips to the beach, his dick print always did look quite big against his wet swim trunks. It always pressed against Y/N’s ass when they sat between his legs. It was always there.

Y/N slides one hand down his thigh, making him shiver as their nails drag across the pale skin. He shivers again, whining. Jihoon feels so sensitive; and then the tight knot in his stomach that he’s all too familiar with makes itself known. Only it’s much tighter than it’s ever been.

He gasps, hands digging into Y/N’s hair before he’s pulling them off. A thin line of spit connects their lips to his cock, and he almost snaps right there. He pants wildly, not being able to speak for a few seconds before a shy: “Sorry. I almost came,” leaves his lips. His cheeks burn as he catches his breath.

Jihoon’s tip is red and angry, leaking so much precum it’s almost impressive. It is impressive when Jihoon shifts his legs to pull Y/N up from his cock. They tower over him, face inches away from his. He hooks his legs between theirs, flipping them over so Y/N’s back is now against the mattress and he’s the one leaning over them.

His hands quickly find the waistband of Y/N’s shorts and they lift their hips up in an instant. His fingers hook under the band pulling them down to reveal—

“Fuck. Are those my boxers?” Y/N nods shyly as his eyes zero in on the pair of boxers he had given them after getting caught in the rain months ago. Jihoon yanks the shorts down, boxers coming off as collateral. Y/N kicks them off. His hand rubs up and down the smooth skin of their thigh.

He leans down, kissing them softly. A lot of the heat of the previous kisses is lost in this one. It’s gentle; so sweet it drives both of them insane. Y/N whines into the kiss and Jihoon continues to caress the inside of their thigh. He gives a soft squeeze to the skin, kneading it in his fingers. “Wanna touch you. Can I, angel?” He hums, placing soft kisses down Y/N’s neck. They nod, a small moan leaving their lips in response to the way Jihoon is kissing the side of their jaw, mixed with the cool metal of his necklaces dragging down their skin.

Y/N expects a hand to reach out and find their folds; except that’s not at all what happens. Jihoon continues kissing down their neck, over their chest and then to their stomach. He bites the skin softly, a hand running up their side. Y/N shivers, every single nerve in their body feels molten under his touch.

Finally, he kisses down their sagittal, stopping right before he reaches their clit. He exhales softly, the gust of breath against their core. He takes a moment to properly look at the sight in front of him. His hand finds his cock as he strokes it languidly. He bends down, lowering his mouth to the already wet folds.

“Please let me eat you out,” He begs. Y/N whines at the sight of him in between their legs. “Please.” He whispers. The puff of air that land against Y/N’s wet core sends a shiver up their spine again. Their hands find his hair, brushing through it.

“Jihoon, I swear to god if you don’t eat me out, I might—“ Jihoon flattens his tongue against Y/N’s opening, licking a stripe up the folds. Y/N feels all of the air leave their lungs as a pathetic mewl slips past their lips. He then dips his tongue in between them, licking all the way up before briefly attaching to their clit. “Fuck—“ they gasp, fingers digging in his hair.

He goes back to licking their folds, alternating between laying his tongue flat against them and working in between them. An experimental brush is placed against their entrance. Y/N pushes their hips down onto Jihoon’s face and uses their hands to push his face deeper. Jihoon takes that as a green light and begins to fuck them on his tongue.

“Shit, Jihoon. Gonna cum like this—!” They gasp, thighs closing in on his head. Jihoon pries their legs back open with his forearms. He keeps them pinned to the bed. One of his thumb attaches to their clit, rubbing it in slow circles. Y/N’s hands tighten at Jihoon’s roots, before they tug at it softly. The sensation makes him moan with his tongue deep inside Y/N.

Jihoon slides his tongue out of them, quickly replacing it with the hand that was on Y/N’s clit. His mouth swap places, pressing a soft kiss against their swollen clit. They jump, feeling one of Jihoon’s fingers press against their entrance. He carefully dips it in, slowly taking Y/N’s clit into his mouth at the same pace. God, he had incredible rhythm. It was no wonder he was such a good musician.

His first finger slips inside, slowly dipping in and out of Y/N’s dripping hole. He detaches his lips from their clit briefly. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” He plants a kiss right above their clit, before his tongue reaches out and almost pulls it inside his mouth. “God, angel. You’re so beautiful.”

“Another,” Y/N gasps, “give me another finger, please.” They cry, head thrown back with their hands all over Jihoon’s hair. He can’t stop himself when he digs his hips into the mattress. He whines against their clit as he fucks into the sheets on his bed.

He presses a second finger into Y/N, curling the up finally. His fingers are so long that they press right into the perfect spot, making Y/N’s legs shake softly. He begins to thrust them in and out, each stroke pressing against it. Their soft gasps fill the room as Jihoon works his fingers inside them.

Jihoon lets out his own gasps at the sounds Y/N makes. The fact that he’s moaning while eating them out makes Y/N tug on his hair hard.

Something unexpected happens. Jihoon moans loudly against their clit, his mouth hovering over the bud as he tried to process why the hell he liked that so much. In his small moment of clarity he realizes he’s not the one that needs to be pleasured right now.

He resumes the pace of his fingers, tongue flicking against Y/N’s clit as he moans around it. His hand works his cock as he humps the mattress, removing his arm from the hold on their thigh.

A hot, white flash of pleasure fills Y/N as Jihoon speeds up both his fingers and his mouth. “Oh my god, ‘m gonna cum,” they gasp, pulling his hair once again. “Jihoon, please—“ Jihoon doesn’t take to this lightly. He keeps pumping his fingers, making sure to brush Y/N’s g-spot each time.

His dark eyebrows furrow against his forehead. He’s so focused on getting Y/N there that he stops touching himself and zeros in completely on the task at hand. Y/N writhes on top of the bed, legs shaking as their back arches off the soft sheets.

Jihoon moans softly around their clit, nipping it with his teeth and that’s it. Y/N cums, thighs shaking as their whole body burns. It’s so intense; Jihoon feels it coat his fingers as he fucks them through their orgasm with his long digits.

Once the shaking stops, he dives back down; he spreads his fingers inside Y/N, placing his tongue in between them to lick up as much of their release as he can. Y/N grips his hair once again, pulling his head up once it starts to get too much.

Y/N is panting as they pull him up into a kiss, his lips shining with his spit and their release. They wrap their legs around his hips, pulling him closer. His cock slides over their ruined pussy, causing both of them to moan lowly. “Need you inside. Please.” Y/N begs, and it’s enough for Jihoon to wrap his hand around his cock as he shifts his hips back. He slides his head over Y/N’s clit, brushing it in between their folds. Both of them moan in unison at this.

Jihoon wraps his other arm under their back, lifting them up as he places their back against the pillows on his bed. The angle makes it easier to kiss Y/N, which he does as he lines himself up. It also makes his necklace brush against Y/N’s burning skin.

He carefully pushes his tip against Y/N’s entrance. It slides in with little resistance. Y/N whines and grabs the sheets as they feel him push his cock inside. With the tip inside, he stops. The stretch of his cock is almost too much as he splits them wide open. “‘S so big. Fuck, you’re so big.” Y/N cries, a small tear sliding down their cheek. Jihoon kisses them softly, using his hand to wipe the tears from their eyes with his thumb.

Jihoon knows he’s well endowed. Rushing this part was never an option for him, but if he isn’t cursing the way Y/N clenches around his tip, trying to suck him in. It makes it so hard to be patient. He pulls away from the kiss slowly. “Look,” he looks down to where their bodies are now connected. The sight of his cock carefully making its way inside is enough to make both of their eyes roll back onto their heads.

Jihoon places a careful hand on the back of Y/N’s neck, pulling them up enough to give them a clear view of the sight. Jihoon guides his cock still, pushing in again; this time much slower. Low moans leave both of them as he enters.

Once he’s half way in, Y/N feels it. His tip brushes their g-spot and they gasp harshly. They rock their hips down before they feel a strong hand on their thigh, stopping them. Jihoon runs a hand through their hair, cooing softly as he soothes them. “Careful angel. Don’t get too ahead of yourself.” He whispers, because he’s trying to not be a hypocrite. He desperately wants to slam into them.

The stretch is almost too much; it’s no longer uncomfortable, but it’s so much. He’s so big, filling every inch of them that he’s touching. “Please just get it over with. Please just put it in.” Y/N whines, arm wrapped around his neck as they watch the slow slide of his cock inside them. Jihoon nods, slowly pushing it in, now hands free. His unoccupied hand reaches for Y/N’s.

Their fingers intertwine as he finishes pushing the last bit inside. Y/N hisses softly. It’s so much, every new inch brushing their sensitive spot. He’s so deep. Jihoon kisses them softly as he starts to pull out. When he moves back in, both of them moan against each other’s lips.

Jihoon starts fucking into Y/N slowly, but it’s not enough for either of them. His pace picks up until the kiss dissolves when both of them start to pant, mouths hanging open. He’s everywhere. Every inch of his cock fills Y/N so full it makes their head dizzy.

All Y/N can think of is the thick drag of his cock inside their walls. They clench around him. Jihoon loses his pace for a second, before he’s skillfully angling his hips up, thrusting deeper.

The sting is nothing compared to the intense pressure that’s building back up inside Y/N. Jihoon must be able to feel it; his hips snap harder.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his hips moving steadily as he thrusts in and out. “You let other people fuck you?” He asks, his lips grazing Y/N’s even closer as they both catch their breaths. He looks at them expectantly, repeating his question. They nod, a silent yes in the air. “Yeah? Never again. No one else can fuck you like this ever again.” Y/N throws their head back, nails raking down Jihoon’s back. He hisses, moaning softly at the sting.

Fuck, with the way he’s moaning like this— with how he’s so vocal, soft gasps and moans constantly leaving his mouth— how could they ever let anyone else fuck them? If this is a one time thing, Y/N will gladly die a nun. “Yours, all yours. Jihoon-“ they hiccup, tears coming to their eyes. “Always been yours. It was always you, Jihoon.” They gasp, head falling back. A soft tear rolls down their face. Jihoon wipes it way with his unoccupied thumb.

“Don’t cry, angel. I’m right here. Your Jihoon’s here.” He holds Y/N’s face so carefully it makes their stomach turn. They pull his face down with the back of their arm, connecting their lips. Jihoon holds their face as he times his kisses with his thrusts. It drives Y/N insane. They dig their nails deeper into his back. He whines softly into the kiss. The soft hook of his nose rubs against their cheek.

“I love you. Fuck, I love you so much.” Jihoon pants; it’s like a mantra of everything he’s felt for Y/N over the past three years. It’s being said like it was a long time coming, which it has been. Y/N moans at his words, fist deep in his hair.

“I love you, Jihoon,” They gasp as he thrusts particularly deep inside them. “It’s you, always been you. Fuck, I’m so in love with you.” Jihoon moans deeply, his thrusts picking up speed at a brutal pace.

Y/N feels him everywhere. His hands are all over their body, rubbing over their chest; his breath is on their face with his cock deep inside them. Jihoon is so lost in the way Y/N grips him, pulling him back in. It’s so tight, it’s so much.

“Baby, fuck, baby— I’m gonna cum.” He gasps, soft whines and moans find their way into his words. “Where do I—”

“Inside, please,” Y/N pants, “need it inside.” They moan, gripping his hair harder, nails digging into his shoulder a little harder. Jihoon just nods, lips reconnecting with Y/N’s.

His hips speed up, getting more erratic with each thrust. He’s slamming into them, cock hitting far too deep for it to be comfortable, but neither of them are worried about it. All Y/N can focus on is the drag of his cock against every inch of them, hitting their g-spot perfectly every single time. The moans filling the room from both of them are so sweet and full of the most intense pleasures either has ever felt.

Jihoon’s hips stutter once, then twice more and he stops, all the way in Y/N as hot strings of cum spill out of his cock. He lets out a high-pitched moan; it’s so high it doesn’t even sound like him but it’s so pretty. This, mixed with the way that he’s so deep, has Y/N coming undone once again. Their whole body shakes a they release around him again. The sudden tightness around Jihoon’s aching cock doesn’t help how much he comes.

There’s so much of it, and it’s so intense. Jihoon has never cum so hard in his life. He almost blacks out. Y/N clenches tighter as their orgasm washes over them in a heat wave of their own, arguably, more intense feeling of pleasure.

And then it happens. All at once, Jihoon feels his lower stomach get soaked. Despite how sensitive he is, he moves his hips to fuck Y/N through it. He only rocks in deeper and it makes Y/N’s eyes roll back in their head, vision blacking out a their mind goes completely blank. “Angel— angel, fuck. I’m here. I’m right here.” Jihoon’s hands move to the side of Y/N’s face, stroking their cheeks gently to ground them back into the moment. Jihoon wipes away small tears that fall down Y/N’s cheeks from the intensity of their orgasm. Their arms wrap around Jihoon’s neck, pulling him on top of them.

Jihoon releases the weight on his elbows, lying flat against Y/N’s chest. The extra weight on their body might help. He keeps rubbing his thumbs across their cheeks, waiting for the world to come back to Y/N.

When they finally move, Jihoon presses a soft kiss to their cheek. He smiles softly as their eyes flutter open, wet eyelashes sticking together. “Hi angel,” he coos, voice reverberating through his chest against Y/N’s. “Fuck, that was so… I hope it wasn’t too much.” He laughs softly, placing another soft kiss onto their lips.

Y/N exhales deeply, hands finding Jihoon’s hair once again. “It was so much but, god, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” They hold Jihoon close, not quite ready to deal with the aftermath of the situation. “We have so much to talk about.” They deadpan. It makes Jihoon swallow nervously before he realizes they’re smiling.

Carefully, he starts pulling out as he softens. Both of them are so sensitive; gasping and whining as Jihoon takes eons to finally pull all the way out. A noticeable wet spot is under Y/N, coating Jihoon as well. He’d normally bitch about it, but he just smiles. He pulls away from them carefully, watching as his cum slips out of Y/N. There’s so much of it and he has the urge to push it back in but it would be too much for both of them right now.

“I’ll be right back, baby. Gotta clean you up.” He carefully climbs off the bed, his legs shaking as he takes a wobbly step on the ground. One foot after the other, he walks to the bathroom.

Y/N lays on his bed panting, legs still spread wide as Jihoon’s cum slowly leaks out of them. Their hands find their chest, resting flat against the skin; right over their heart, which is beating wildly in their chest.

Jihoon returns a few minutes later to his bedroom, already cleaned up, to find Y/N laying with their eyes closed. If it wasn’t for the soft rise and fall of their chest, he would have thought they died. He places the glass of water on his night stand before he falls back between their legs. He pushes them open, slowly moving the warm washcloth over their folds.

Y/N doesn’t move, except for their eyes which open slowly. Jihoon wipes carefully, lifting their hips up slowly to clean up all of their— and his— releases. He shifts their hips over to avoid setting them back down in the, much bigger than he initially thought, wet spot on his bed. He leans over them to retrieve the glass of water. “Drink up, angel.” He grasps the straw with his index finger against the rim of the glass, pressing it to their lips.

Y/N takes a slow drink, cheeks hollowing around the straw. They look up at Jihoon, who is now leaning on his side, as he watches them take a drink. His hair is undeniably a mess, his face and parts of his chest still flushed. He looks so beautiful, eyes drooping from exhaustion in the glow of the morning sun.

Once the straw is moved away from their lips Y/N speaks. “You really do look like the sun.” A soft, tired smile falls across their face.

“You’re going to kill me, angel. Seriously. I think you already did.” He laughs, head thrown back with the softest of smiles on his face.

It’s a new experience for both of them; sex, aftercare, being so domestic like this. It’s still so comfortable, like life with Jihoon has always been. “It’s called a white death for a reason.” Y/N quips and it makes Jihoon laugh harder. He leans over them to place a soft kiss to their lips. Y/N’s hand finds the side of his face.

There’s no heat in this kiss, all of their energy was already expelled in an endothermic reaction between them. It’s so tender, as though everything either of them want to say at the moment is held within it. Jihoon pulls away first, head resting against Y/N’s shoulder. “I really do love you,” He breathes against their cooling skin, “‘m sorry I told you for the first time during sex.” While they can’t see it, Y/N knows his face is red once again. The tips of his ears heating up is a dead giveaway.

“I love you too.” Y/N breathes, hand resting carefully on his head. It’s a little harder to speak these words now, but they’re still incredibly easy. It’s almost a second nature, most likely because it’s Jihoon. “We should probably talk about this.”

They do. They shower separately, Jihoon sneaking back into the bathroom to press a soft kiss to the back of their neck as they dry off, arms wrapping around their waist with the pretence of just wanting to be near you. In the comfort of Jihoon’s couch, which is now forever imprinted with the image of him lying on top of Y/N as they exchanged first kisses. The skin of back feels sensitive again the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

They talk about it in Jihoon’s apartment, which he realizes has Y/N everywhere within it. They talk about when both of them realized this friendship became a little less platonic— two years ago on the camping trip after Soonyoung ate shit wakeboarding and you laughed so hard you thought you were going to throw up, mixed with when you hugged me for the first time after you had a rough shift at work and just wanted to be held.

About when they realized it was love— when you fell asleep on my shoulder halfway through a horror movie, and last year when you called me crying and I realized I never wanted to see you that hurt ever again.

About what it means for both of their futures; a collective agreement of a relationship. Another collective agreement of slowing down, a limit of kisses only until things naturally go elsewhere.

They talked over a warm cup of coffee, the soft sunlight losing its golden hue as morning turned into noon. Jihoon wraps his arm around their shoulder, placing a soft kiss against their damp hair. “Seal it with a kiss?” He suggests, now that they were both on the same page.

Y/N cranes their head up, more than willing to accept his proposal. Jihoon leans down, soft lips meeting him in the middle. He smiles. As bright as the sun, Y/N thinks.

Yeah. He’s a star.

And when Y/N leaves the practice room a week later, pressing a soft kiss against Jihoon’s lips, he feels warm. Save for the shocked gasps from the members, especially Seungkwan and his following declaration of: “You all owe me so much fucking money.”

Jihoon’s anger towards the fact that his band mates were placing bets on when he would get into a relationship with Y/N was nothing compared to the supernova bubbling up in his chest. It was nothing compared to the cataclysm of love he felt throughout his whole body.

So. How exactly do you kill the sun?

With soft lips and tender kisses. With small, shared, knowing glances at each other while your hands rest on each others legs in the booth of a restaurant surrounded by others.

Over a pot of shared ramen, arms around each other as they laugh at shitty comedies on Jihoon’s big couch. With hushed whispers under his sheets, hands grabbing onto anything they can reach.

By the fireplace in his childhood home, curled up under a blanket as his mom embarrasses him with childhood tales. On the beach, as he rubs sunscreen over Y/N’s back, sunglasses placed over his eyes and his hair tied back to keep it out of his face. Under Seungcheol’s knowing eyes when he officially tells everyone that, “Yes, we’re together.” They’ll have to talk about it later.

Backstage, after Jihoon won best producer for nth time and Y/N can’t quite keep the smile off their face, or hide the tears forming at their waterline. Hugging him after a long day, just for the purpose of being near him. Through tears on the worst days and a shower of kisses on the best days.

On one knee with a small black box, at an ungodly hour of the night when a late night walk on the bridge gave him the confidence he needed to finally pop the question after he accidentally told Y/N he was going to marry you one day during some sweet love making that took place the night before.

With tears in his eyes as he watches the rest of his life begin.

With Y/N.

a/n: aaaaand that’s a wrap!!!! this is my first full fic that i’ve posted here wowie. i might possibly make a sfw part two of their relationship bcs i am so obsessed w how jihoons so clingy n in love oh my god. maybe a prequel?? of all the little moments i mentioned. lmk !!

reblogs n comments r much appreciated!!!

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