#good lord how. do i have so many thoughts

[technitaur]

It's all about control, and about making people dependent on their religious leaders for guidance and salvation. The more you can make people think that they're Bad for their natural thoughts and urges, the more desperate they become for reassurance and forgiveness - and the more likely they are to start dropping a bit more in the collection plate.

There is value in teaching a reasonable amount of temperance, like 'don't do this pleasurable thing so much that it interferes with your life - and if you can't stop yourself, then it'd be good to take a look at why that is and try to address it.'

But that kind of temperance isn't sensational enough. Organized religion loves their extremes. If people are simply content, they're less likely to throw their whole body and soul into their religion. Make them desperate from self-denial, get them frenzied with a sensational performance, convince them that they've been helped by the Lord in some way, and now you have a faithful follower who will give you their last breath.

Sometimes I think about how in the times of knights and crusades, it was considered your duty to your God to go off to battle for your King. If you're a peasant who genuinely believes that your King is on the throne because of a divine mandate, then what choice do you really have when you're recruited and told to march off to battle? You don't want to defy the will of God, do you?

Again, it comes back to control. We even see the 'King' effect today, in the USA, as people practically worship Trump to the point of thinking he's the second coming of Jesus. And nobody even had to threaten them at swordpoint to make them believe it. That's the scariest part, I think, is that many people seem to want to be religiously controlled. Probably because they believe that's the easiest way to ensure that they'll be saved.

You see it all the time with Prosperity Gospel preachers. People are willing to give up their entire life savings because they think some guy is capable of giving spring water (which is probably just tap water anyway) miraculous properties.

I consider myself a spiritual person, but I avoid organized religion like the plague. Prosperity Gospel makes me sick, as does the overly performative religious proselytizing that we're starting to see on TikTok and similar. If that shit isn't taking the Lord's name in vain, I don't know what is. And it's all in the name of control - gaining adoration, gaining money, gaining influence.

Spirituality is supposed to set you free, not put you in shackles. Especially not when the key is held by some mortal who isn't any better than you are. Spirituality should be for the individual's personal growth - not as a weapon to harm and exploit others with.

The most insidious part is that it's not even a weapon you have to wield for very long. When you can make a person feel shame just for being alive, all you have to do is give them the sword and convince them to fall on it. And most people have a very hard time getting back up. Many of them never do.

not to be anti-religious but i do wonder if teaching children that they are innately flawed and sinful is, perhaps, not a healthy worldvi

[themalhambird]

Considering Celebrimbor is the ONLY one of the main elves we never saw Adar interact with, my brain is doing a really good job of locking onto the idea of a Celebrimbor x Adar Political Marriage AU.

No, I don't know exactly how that would come about - something something elves and uruks united against The Shadowy Threat of Sauron whatever. Celebrimbor looks *hard* at Gil-galad when he asks if he would agree to it and is just...."If I say yes do you promise to give me Many Forge Supplies for a wedding present?"

Adar, for his part, isn't exactly interested in having a husband so much as the PRINCIPLE of it being openly acknowledged he's good enough for an Elf-Lord. Anyway they get married, discover over the course of the wedding dinner that they actually find each other interesting company, and proceed to have a cordial acquaintence with Adar staying at Eregion far more than he anticipated, like he'll stomp up to the forge with a really big sack over his shoulder and all the elves are eyeing him warily and he just dumps it at Celebrimbor's feet like: "here's a load of old and broken armour for you to play with only some of it was stolen directly from corpses" and Celebrimbor's all "Lovely now come and look at this, I've was thinking about the whole sunshine problem your children have and what started out as a thought exercise accidently became detailed schematics for enormous mobile rooftops you can extend before making camp so that the shade covers you even in daylight. "

Anyway. It takes them far too long to realise that they're actually into each other. Adar's letting Celibrimbor braid his hair and Celibrimbor's letting Adar make him go to bed if he's been working for too many hours straight and they're still referring to eachother as "possibly something of a friend" Eregion elves and the Uruks who set up base in Eregion's vicinity whenever Adar goes to see Celebrimbor are actually starting to interact with each other by virtue of having "how are they this oblivious about it?????" as a conversation starter.

Eventually Adar has an "oh no he's hot" moment and promptly flees Eregion because he's convinced Celebrimbor would be repulsed If he actually tried anything romantic and /or sexual. Celebrimbor is puzzled and hurt, but a stranger comes to Eregion and affords a little distraction.

This Annatar fellow is so very interested in the mithrael rings Celebrimbor made to reflect the light of the Valar, though Celebrimbor's not sure he follows his reasoning for sets to be made for either dwarves or men. Still, pleasent company. Until he starts suggesting that Gil-Galad debased Celebrimbor and his authority by forcing him into marriage with an orc, at which point Celebrimbor punches him in the face without thinking...

Merdarnia and the other smiths are very exasperated that "I think I'm in love with Adar" is somehow a bigger revelation to the Lord of Eregion than "I punched Annatar in the face and he turned out to be Sauron, he has now taken over the city and is holding us hostage."

[narfin-frood]

Hi! I'm a big fan of your art, and I just wanted to know, did you study the WOY art style? I'm asking because the way you draw each character, Hater especially, is so expressive! Do you have any tips with expressions? Thank you!

thank you so much!! and to kinda answer your question: while what i do is, technically, studying, that's not what it feels like. i genuinely just enjoy looking at character sheets. a lot of the time they'll include little notes about things you wouldn't think about unless you're told to, like wander's eyes typically angling towards each other at the bottom or sylvia's eyes obscuring the full width of her neck.

(i have any one of these open in my reference panel almost always! not only are these full of tips & tricks for your everyday sketching, they're full of rules for each character, which are meant to be broken in interesting and fun ways.)

[im gonna pack a bunch of other, tangentially related tips and tricks and thoughts into the readmore, including my personal breakdown of hater's expressions specifically, so feel free to give it a click. long post ahead]

a lot of stuff can be picked up by just watching the cartoon as many times as you want. i have watched every episode (minus big fucking baby episode, which i hate) like 6 times over, sometimes more (looking at you the rager), and that has definitely solidified my wander over yonder visual library.

also, wander over yonder's art style already fits in with the way i draw, because i LOVEE long curvy lines and super crisp & clear silhouettes!!

as for why/how i get hater so expressive.... that mainly has to do with the fact that i think he's So Cute. He's So Cute and i wanna Squash Him. and his character design reflects that!!!

his hood is his eyebrow and his eyes may or may not be rolling around in their sockets, and his nose is a little upside down heart. but all of the lord hater emotion is stored in the chin. lord hater has a bunch of specific and VERY malleable options for mouth shapes, depending on what makes the expression and lipsync look clearest.

you can keep it super simple, with a clear divide between his top and bottom jaw, and do several round bumps for teeth, which they do a lot when tweening, like this:

this kind of seems to be his default state, depending heavily on the episode and when it was made and who was drawing him the most, of course.

you can also keep his jaw and skull distinct, but keep his teeth straight and flush with each other, which helps for sharper expressions, esp. anger or frustration, but can also work for a good "squee". he also sometimes pouts so hard his chin eats his mouth, which is, again, cute.

if you're having trouble keeping an expression clear while also maintaining the distinction between his jaw and the rest of his skull, it's pretty common also to forego most of the overt skeleton bits, save for a few hatch marks to indicate teeth (sometimes squiggles or bumps, when he's yelling about it). in my head i affectionately refer to this style of hater expression as the "peanut sans"

none of these convey the intensity of emotion you're looking for? fear not, you can also always just go Full Skeleting. and give his teeth a full outline. this is great for Pain and Strain and Nefariousness.

and then there are a million expressions in between and possibilities within these parameters beyond your wildest belief. nothing should hold you back from a really fucked-up lord hater expression. not proportion. not structure. ESPECIALLY not symmetry. please. make his chin bigger. make his head bigger. make one eye bigger. make him look in two different directions. scrunch his nose up. whatever it takes. by all means. i implore you to have fun

(honorable mention. his W face. the face when he says the consonant W. sometimes OO. i'm. obsessed. with it . he looks. kity)

anyway. lord hater tangent aside. i could also share my own process for expressions, but it really just hinges on what looks appealing/what i like the most/what communicates the emotion i want to communicate the clearest, and it varies between characters and people.

it helps to, again, build your visual library, and look at lots and lots of funny faces, both in real life and in cartoons you like. make funny faces in the mirror and try to focus on what parts of your face change shape or interact with other parts of your face when you do something like smile really wide or drop your jaw. your skin is taut, and there's a bunch of muscle and fat attached to your bones, so when one big bone moves, a bunch of muscles and fat under the surface will shift around too, and understanding that relationship is really helpful in the long run, both for drawing real people and for drawing cartoons.

and the easiest way to retain information like that is to have fun while you study. stop thinking of it as studying and start thinking of it as gathering information on this thing you like a lot and want to do more of, like when you scroll through someone's account to look at all their art, and just. do more of that. do more exploring and observing. since animation is my special interest, this part is pretty easy for me, but it does still take practice to get into that mindset, especially when you convince yourself you have to be super strict and rigid to make it in the art world. focus on drawing and observing what makes YOU happy first, and everything else will follow.

and don't worry about taking notes. don't worry about remembering everything you look at. just look at things you like, and think about them for longer than you usually would. think about the shapes and colors. what makes that drawing so darn appealing to you, besides subject matter and the vague concept of an "artstyle"? you'll be surprised just how abstract what appeals to you can be. for me, with expressions especially, it comes down to random shit like "i like when the edge of a character's mouth creates a tangent with the outline of their head" instead of "pretty eyes" or other, vaguer elements. and that shit i like becomes a part of my artstyle, but only when it fits in and looks appealing, because you can't do stuff like this in every single drawing & retain a full range of expression

ANYway. i hope this made some sense/helped at least a little. i like lord hater a lot. and i also like to draw

[vortexbloom]

ℍ𝕚𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕧𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕊𝕠𝕝𝕕𝕚𝕖𝕣 𖤓 (ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟚)

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 - 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕀𝕞𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕥

ℍ𝕚𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕧𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕊𝕠𝕝𝕕𝕚𝕖𝕣 𖤓 (ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟙)

Pairing: Capitano x Soldier Female Reader

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Warnings: A bit spicy I guess.

English is not my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

Also, I do Not own any Characters like Capitano !

Anyway, have fun reading this :)

Art by: @rotten_hyena on X (Twitter)

It’s been a few weeks since your awkward conversation with Capitano about your failed mission.

You've got assigned for another mission and somehow, you managed to fail….again.

But at least there weren’t so many dead soldiers this time, so no need to be worried….right?….

And that’s how you thought wrong, cause you've been called to Capitano’s office as soon as he found out about the second mission you failed.

You two were now, just like a few weeks ago, in his office.

"Y/n….I think we both now why I called you to my office again, right."

Nodding, you looked up at him.

"Yes, my Lord. I know why I‘m here again…"

Capitano stepped closer, caging you between the wall and his body, making your breath hitch.

"Tell me, do you remember what I said the last time we talked?

You nodded, remembering exactly what he once said.

"Yes, my Lord. You said that you wouldn’t accept another failed mission…"

"Indeed, at least you listened to my words, but do you also know what those words mean?"

"Well…I may be wrong, but I assume I‘ll be punished…..or worse…"

Capitano nods.

"You’re right, there will be a punishment."

His hands now wandered to your waist, making you blush.

"My Lord….may I ask, what kind of punishment will I receive?"

"Let‘s just say, I've prepared something for you."

He squeezes your waist slightly and took off his helmet afterwards.

You were shocked. After all, you never saw the Captain without his Helmet. He looked really handsome, scars and all.

Suddenly, he pressed his lips against yours. You were shocked but kissed him back anyways.

You two stopped kissing after a few seconds, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"I feel like you’re gonna like this….punishment."

And with that, you two continued your little making out session (and a lot more hehe).

Even though this was a supposed to be a punishment, it felt more like a reward for you.

I know this was kinda short and the end kinda sucked, but I was too lazy to write a whole smut scene tbh.

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[sorrowmoons]

Feel like doing an Oc ramble so here is my oc, Amayak, (who exists as the main antagonist in my book, Curses of Crows), but for Hatchetfield is similar to what the Lords in black are,, an Eldritch being hehe

More about the gal under the cut!

Blue wording is where it connects with Hatchetfield more, but here is a brief “upbringing and lore” on her. This is not accurate to her canon lore, and is modified to fit her Hatchetfield Au.

Amayak, who goes by many names; White Onyx, Guardian of the night, Guardian of the moon, Watcher of sleepers, Night Stalker, Trinity sister, Star Sister, and many others!

These names have been brought up by mortals over generations, but her original is “Amayak”, a translated word from a long forgot on speech that dates back to thousands of years. The name was later translated as “Watcher of the night”.

Amayak is a being who is, essentially, the embodiment of the moon. The moon is her eye. It is her body and she is connected with it. The moon is perceived as a planet only to mortals—it is a facade created by Amayak, to hide the true form she is capable of—far too unimaginable by the humans.

But she is always watching, at night. She controls dreams, only deeming those worthy of good dreams, and tormenting the ones with never ending bad ones. She is a force to be reckoned with, no one’s power is truly like hers. Her power is to be held with high respect—anyone, god or mortal, who dares to challenge her and her power will ultimately succumb to a life of madness.

Her morals are “let nature live as it is brought” (so proud I made that quote myself) , essentially meaning—she will let the cruel side of nature take place, as if it was set on earth to begin with—it is part of the worlds fate, the cycle of life. This means she sees the cruelty of the night—what happens in the shadows. She lets them take place, as world’s fate. But, if there is one moral she stands by—is that man should not corrupt his powers over the weak and innocent. That is not nature—it is a cruel power made up. Something that is not created naturally, but created by the dark mind. She will hunt any man down who dares to touch or corrupt a woman or child—as they are pure to the touch in her eyes. Which is why, her second and most impactful name to the world as been

“Protector of women and child” , Amayak’s beliefs have never strayed from that one moral. She has been alive for a thousand seasons and more, and, although she is perceived as a peaceful symbol now—she was what almost destroyed mankind hundreds of years ago. Thus bringing up her most fearful name made yet— “Destroyer of mankind”

That name was brought up when Amayak set foot on earth, taken form of a young maiden. She needed to see the night how the mortals did—to try and understand and see what they understood and saw. She had come across a small village, of farmers and their cattle. A peaceful scene for her to witness—she met friendly faces. She then travelled to a different village, of smiths and workers. She faced struggles and the labour of humans. She met tired faces. Her last village, the biggest one yet, was filled of fighters and men. She witnessed what is known as a “Brothel”. She saw the things that happened to women—and, she perceived this as absolute cruelty. She then was attacked by a group of men, who tried to do the things she saw happening to those poor women—and that was the mark of her madness. She massacred the entire village, leaving only the women. This struck fear in the world, but Amayak was not done.

See, Amayak has “two” sides to her. Her regular form, but, she also has her “Dark side” form. The dark side of the moon has separated Amayak into two—one of light and one of dark. Her light side has always been able to overcome the dark side, as she has always been the more powerful. But, slowly, as madness corrupted her, the dark side started to win. It corrupted her thoughts, turning them to blood shed and anger. To sum it up, the dark moon won—or, almost did. Village after village, it brought blood and terror. It left the women, and little girls. Ultimately—it too brought the little boys to death. She had no room for forgiveness—or rather—the dark side of her didn’t.

What is to say what stopped her? That’s left unclear. It was never brought up as to what happened with the world and herself. That is why people believe it was a lie—a made up horror tale to scare the believers in the being—and to leave people uncertain of their safety in the night.

And while the moon remains in the sky, people are left to speculate what really is the moon, and what powers it holds.

-

-

Amayak resides in the black. She often swaps between the white and the black—not being restricted to one. Her form is large and tall (think of lady Dimitrescu from Re8) with hair of fur and wings combined. Her dark side has been retained and closed in—but while she is calm and collective, something can trigger her darker side, unleashing a fit of rather terrifying rage. But—it’s not so common.

I won’t go saying “she’s stronger than the LiB”, because I know people hate OP Ocs (I love them might I just say), but, let’s just say she holds almost equal power to the LiB. There is no “I’m stronger than you so I can tease you more”, it’s more of a shared “respect” between them. This is where her “Let nature live as it is brought” comes in. The eldritch gods are brought, natural to the universes. But she has numerous of times confronted some of the LiB (and other eldritch beings) of their wrong doings, and she threatens to intervene if they do something like it again. And while some powerful Eldritch beings don’t take it as a threat—it is a pain to have to deal with another being interrupt their practices. But—she knows she isn’t in the place to control everything every being does—so she lets many things go.

But regardless, I feel like she has pretty good relations with the LiB. Especially Wiggly—they hold high respect for each others powers, even if she wishes to rip his head off many times.

She can sometimes treat them as brotherly bonding—as even though there has been advances—she is extremely strict against anything romantic or sexual in desire. She finds it putrid and distasteful.

Anyways, off track, She is also a being who has followers in Hatchetfield, mainly a cult following. It’s called “Amayaks Eye” only consisting of women. It is a group who lives under the beliefs of Amayak and her protection over women. More on that later perhaps.

Skye knows about Amayak, and in canon lore is her human reincarnate. (EHEH lore droppp) but in this universe, Amayak spots Skye—and now keeps her eyes on her from time to time. This can also be why the LiB don’t mess with her too much—as there is another watchful eye on her of protection.

She has one big Alter in the Witchwood where her following go there. They prefer not to label themselves as a cult, but in reality it is. But the women (of various ages from 11-60) just live by a normal life, but they stray away from sex or romance—not that it’s a written rule, but it was what Amayak went by—and many go by it by choice. They take other pleasures in nature, crafting, learning, and personal strength. Amayak is perceived as good but flawed—and they go by it. No one is perfect in Amayaks eyes, and she makes her followers know that. This excuses her wrong doings in the past by her followers. Anyways, her followers gift her flowers, feathers, stones, naturally dead animal bones (meaning they didn’t kill them—Amayak is the biggest animal lover ever. She believes killing them, but only for food to survive if need be. She hates hunters who hunt animals for fun SO MUCH.) they also gift her fruit and jewelry sometimes. She rewards them with continuous protection and good dreams :]

Anyways that’s all I made add more later

[thehomothings]

♦️ for Wing and Kite!

My god what have you done /pos

This will be shamelessly long.

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Wing repeatedly cleans his glasses when he's nervous and adjusts them when even when he doesn't need to. He leaves his shirt half-tucked more on purpose rather than forgetting, but plays aloof about it.

Books don't survive his care- which is ironic because he has made a hobby of collecting old and antiquated books. He dog ears them, absent mindedly uses them as coasters, etc. Absolutely drives Kite mad, which in turn pushes him to learn bookbinding and how to repair damaged books. It becomes their collective hobby, visiting second hand shops and walking out with handfulls of books on the verge of falling apart, Kite patching them up carefully and patiently while Wing watches.

Kite never sits on chairs properly. He either sits criss cross or tucks one knee under his chin, most of the time straight up sits on the table/counter. If he lives to be an elder he'll regret this fact.

Of course, Kite has a special interest in weaponry- not just using them, but how they're made, how they've evolved through ages, etc. He loves visiting museums and rambling on about the exhibited items, but almost every single time gets thrown out because he tries something daft like trying to juggle with antique 12th century daggers.

He can throw knives pretty accurately and regrets not making it one of Crazy Slots' rolls.

Wing cannot wake up before noon. He can conk out for 15 hours and still if someone wakes him up before noon he'll bite. And also don't attempt to speak to him before he has had his coffee.

Despite being a professional athlete he doesn't like to "exercise" the typical way, or at least whatever the weird yoga/stretch routine Kite insists on doing in rooms that are too small for his limbs. The man balances on his head for fun.

Wing can dance pretty decently because Bisky forced him to learn. Kite on the other hand has two left feet and will cause injuries if he attempts to do so.

Kite loves drawing; mostly sketching still lives of flora and fauna. He sometimes sketches people as well, but never shows them to anyone.

He pierced his own ears as a teenager and loved having them until Ging made an off-handed remark about how once he saw someone's earlobe being ripped off during a battle by their earring. Kite took them out afterwards.

Wing had long hair as a child (TRANSGENDER) and he's really skilled at different types of braids. He will forcibly sit Kite down and style his hair.

Wing is afraid of planes and airships. Kite never learned to drive or ride a bike.

When he doesn't have to work, Kite loves wearing nailpolish, but as soon as a corner chips off he will peel off the rest by force.

Wing is deeply afraid of spiders and occasionally punches through walls trying to squish them. Kite does his best to rescue them.

When Kite sleeps alone he needs 3 extra blankets because he's always cold. He actively hates snow, unless he can stay insides and just watch it. Wing on the other hand grew up in a warmer climate and gets unreasonably excited about snow.

Wing is so prone to misplacing his hunter license that it stresses everybody else out. Kite doesn't part with his license even in his sleep.

After passing the hunter exam Wing enrolled in college for two semesters and dropped out to become a marital arts instructor.

Kite secretly wants to return to Whale island and maybe possibly live there. His ideal living situation would be somewhere warm and sunny, with several dogs and a personal garden.

He learned sewing to mend his clothes as a child and continued it into adulthood. He makes most his clothes himself.

The newsboy cap-other than having sentimental value- helps him from being sensory overloaded and spares his nose from being sunburned.

Wing knocks doors with his cane when he needs to use it. Bisky chides him about it every time.

Kite doesn't drink because he's a lightweight. Wing doesn't drink because it's physically impossible for him to get drunk.

Wing secretly doesn't like how the hunter association runs things. Kite is very vocal about it and the dirty politics behind the curtains.

Wing's very shameful secret is that he likes writing gay poetry. Very badly.

Kite's accent is impossible to place and he's multilingual.

Despite being not good at chess himself, Wing enjoys following professional chess matches.

For a game that mostly relies on chance, Kite is eerily good at backgammon, evil rivalling the one who taught him (Ging).

Despite learning swimming quite late at life, Kite is very good at it. He can hold his breath under water for about 15 minutes.

Wing doesn't like to swim, thank you very much.

As a teenager, Wing was a bookie for an underground fight club, for the sheer thrill of watching the battles (and secretly wanting to participate).

Kite prefers long skirts to pants.

Rice, instant noodles and eggs are about the only things Wing can manage to cook without causing chaos and general calamity.

.....and i should stop even tho i can keep going. Ty for the ask it was so much fun to rotate these two in the brain again.

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 4 - Nuthin' but Boothill Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[vaggieslefteye]

CHARLIE MAGNE from HAZBIN HOTEL (2019): Pilot - "That's Entertainment" ↳ "So, I've been thinking: Isn't there a more humane way to hinder overpopulation here in Hell? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change souls through... redemption?"

[necrotic-nephilim]

for the ask game (3)

au where all robins develop a mental link after fighting some magical criminal of the week. what would they see in each other's minds? what secrets and repressed feelings do they discover? how would they deal with it?

for the ask game!

oooh, i love telepathic links that end up revealing secrets. especially with a family like the Batfam, who are usually so convinced they're good enough at reading each other to not have many secrets kept. so weird reveals are always fun

if i did this, i'd do DamiTim. just because of all the like, "deep dark feelings that are being hidden" for Robin shipping, DamiTim is the most fun for me. you expect DickTim or DickJay or JayTim, even DamiDick. but there's something that's so enjoyable about Damian having his feelings forcibly outted. not just to Tim, but to everyone. the way it'd be an active landmine none of them knowing what to say but all feeling each other's reactions. i honestly think Damian would try to punch somebody about it. (also, if you do a history of TImSteph where they've had sex, Damian would be directly linked to Steph's memories of how Tim was in bed, so that's fun as both something horrifying and enlightening just to screw with his feelings some more.) would they end up together? in my head probably, but it'd be weird and likely toxic bc how do you date someone you know inside out and know exactly what they think of all your flaws and what parts of you they obsess over. the answer is not very well but hey, the sex is good-

i think Jason *directly* feeling how everyone felt about his death would really rock him. he's heard all the apologies, but part of him isn't convinced there's truth to them. so to be crushed by Dick's *grief* over his death would be a come to jesus moment for him. but on the less fun flipside, you have him feeling how Dick feels about him *now*. because Dick doesn't really *like* Jason and deep down, sees Jason as a lost cause. that's his "deep dark secret". and Jason would feel and know that from the one person who he still wants to believe in him. i really do think Jason would have the Worst Time with all this, overwhelmed with everyone's intimate and complex feelings over his death. Jason is a very defensive person when it comes to his death and how reactionary he gets when other people make it about them, not him. so for Jason to have to constantly deal with that in his head, i truly do think he'd lash out a bit. the arguments. yelling at Dick and feeling Dick's guilt and snapping bc Dick has no right to feel guilty now. feeling that Tim viewed Jason as a failure. it's just a damaging mindspace to be in and man do i think Jason would take a While to recover.

oddly though, i think it'd be a good bonding moment for Steph and Jason. we really don't get much exploration of Steph and Jason bonding over dying. bc sure, Steph didn't actually die, but she *did* experience the social death where everyone believed she was dead and mourned her as such for a good while. she also felt *directly* responsible for her own death. a lot of blame falls on Steph for War Games (for the Doylist reasons of sexism but yk) and Jason feels responsible for his own death for walking into a trap. but unlike Jason, Steph had no suit in a case, no memorials, her name held no infamy. so i think she deserves just a bit of righteous fury about how dramatic Jason can be while she just has to move on bc hey, it's not like she *really* died. and she buries those feelings well, but not well enough to hide them from a mental link. and Jason, who hasn't really considered Steph before because he was so wrapped up in his complex over Tim, confronts those feelings with her. if anyone is going to know how he feels, it's going to be her. you could do it platonic or romantic, but i do think when Jason sinks to his lowest, she's the one who snaps him out of it, both with tough love and genuine compassion for his situation.

for the less serious crack of it all: they're all going to have far too intimate knowledge of each other's sex lives. everyone's gonna know Dick has fucked Slade. everyone's gonna know Jason has fucked Talia. in my heart, i believe Tim has slept with Anarky (Lonnie, not Ulysses) and everyone would *know* that too. absolute judgment all around. it's the spider-man meme of "wait you've done WHAT with WHO" and honestly, it gives a nice distraction for the more serious feelings. it's a palette cleanser they can default to. like when the fighting gets a little too serious and they're cutting too deep for comfort, someone's going to blurt out "well at least i didn't fuck Deathstroke." and the whole moment goes awry with laughter. bc i do think, at the end of it once they get through the worst of the angst, they'd be closer for it and self-aware of the ridiculous nature of all this. it's enlightening, in a way to see how they all felt about their time as Robin and the baggage/trauma they hold. even the ugliest feelings they hold for each other don't completely suffocate the fondness/respect.

that said, knowing the baggage/trauma. oof. i don't think Dick has ever fully opened up about his history with Mirage/Tarantula/Liu and now it's forced to sit in the open. Damian has never admitted the worst of being raised in the League. Tim hasn't fully faced the suffocating image of his dead father and his deep-seated want to kill Boomerang. all those ugly truths they stamp down bc well, either you're a vigilante or you're a well adjusted person, are out in the open now. and it's ugly and gruesome to force those thoughts to be shared. they all want to comfort each other for different reasons, while simultaneously not wanting their own trauma to be acknowledged. it'd be fun to see who'd instinctively react to whose trauma first. because it's an overwhelming rush of information, and you just naturally get pulled in certain directions. i think Damian would react to Dick's history of sexual abuse first, whereas Jason would be reacting to the murderous rage TIm is trying to fight off. Tim is reacting to just how much guilt Steph carries about War Games and all of it is very crunchy. there's so much they'd all have to talk about and it'd take days for them to address it all, between the arguments about the ugly parts. would they come out stronger for it? yes. but only if they didn't kill each other in the process. i hesitate to do a "and they come out one big happy family" ending, bc it's not very in canon, but i do think the bond of the Robin mantle is something special. even when the link is broken, they hold onto a freakish understanding of each other. they react and move in sync, can fight together without needing words. are they emotionally on the same page/have they forgiven each other for the worst of it? absolutely not. but they've got each other backs. it's a very much "if you called i'd drop everything to save you. but also we don't have it in us to hang out casually." bond, which i think is deeply underrated in fanfiction. sometimes, you can care about people but you have to do it from a distance.

[britneyshakespeare]

throughout the series of drake and josh it pretty consistently implies that josh nichols is a christian (josh peck is jewish) and in the finale of the series helen (played by yvette nicole brown, not jewish[?]) is portrayed as a practicing jew

[airenyah]

and so what if i'm rewatching simm. again.

so what.

[giantkillerjack]

pssst.... there are a lot of queer christians! their experiences and faith are valid. it sucks you weren't able to jive with the church, but don't act like its impossible because of your sexuality when many other lgbt folx have managed just fine

My friend, you do you, but being a faggot dyke tranny helped keep me out of an abusive organization, and for me and all of my formerly religious friends, that is that.

[tvrningout-a]

i wanna see my friends, but i also wanna write up lore :((

[dropespeon]

i Need to write something about dcmk because i just have so many thoughts and nothing i've read has done it for me but I do not know what. But I need to write Something

[steampoweredlovemachine]

let's give it up for f/os that you will probably never be able to define your relationship with but are an ultimate source of comfort anyways

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Cherry Boy. [l.c.]

Chapter One of "Losing it". Reminder that each chapter in this series is stand alone and can be read without reading any of the others!

A new relationship is always difficult to navigate, for Chan, it appears to be even more difficult. For you? You’re just left confused as to why your new boyfriend of a month and a half hasn’t made a move on you despite your very obvious attempts to invite him into your personal space.  You soon realize that your boyfriend is a virgin, and that’s why he’s always running away with his hands covering his bits, even through a simple goodnight kiss. 

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | reblog for chan's happy trail

WORDCOUNT― 10k

PAIRING― lee chan x afab reader 

CONTENT― brief break up due to horrible communication skills, virginity loss, reader gets super insecure about her body and personality, fluff, smut obv

NOTE― This is the reason I gave chan the first chapter in the series. It's because of those pics...you know the ones. Anyway, shoutout to @ressonancee and @onlyhuis for proof reading this for me! love u guys with my entire being!

smut tags under cut:: 

SMUT TAGS― virginity loss, makeout session, neck kissing, tit fondling, unprotected sex, belly button kissing, mentions and focus on his happy trail, he’s ticklish oops, blowjob, premature ejaculation, pussy drunk chan forgets how to speak, desperate sex babbling, finger fucking, hand and cock guiding, cream pie 

~

Chan has a dilemma, and yes, it’s one that most men would scoff at. 

Trust him when he says that he is so very aware of what is happening around him but he simply cannot manage to muster up the courage, strength, or confidence to admit to you, his lovely and patient girlfriend, that he’s dodging your advances solely because he is the text-book definition of virgin. 

He is not only nervous about having sex for the first time, but there also comes the weight of him either not being good enough when he tries, or you laughing in his face and mocking him for it.

You, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so fucking in your head if he really could just muster up a tiny amount of confidence to say that to you. 

It has been almost two months now since he asked you to be his girlfriend, and throughout this time never once has he done more than a gentle kiss to your lips or lying a slight guiding hand to your waist. It feels so… juvenile, so… middle school for a boyfriend to treat you this way. 

Seeing as how the first three dates you went on with him seemed to suggest he was more than willing to be a fulfilling boyfriend who can, hopefully, fill all of the roles that comes with the title– you’re starting to second guess that he ever liked you at all.

Perhaps the twenty-four year old man asked you that night to be his girlfriend out of pity. Or maybe he’s simply changed his mind about you. Regardless of the reason for why he acts like this, it’s getting to you.

Deeply, actually, by this point. It only stung a bit at first, but now it’s starting to feel like he has to be with you as a joke. Why else would he be consistent in wanting to hang out? Why else would he always be inviting you out on well-priced dates and buying you pretty gifts? 

It’s a joke. 

It has to be a joke. 

Oh, but that’s so far from the truth. If you would simply open your eyes, perhaps you’d notice the struggle that your polite little boyfriend goes through each time you try to suggest he make an advance on you. 

Even the slight kisses, it makes him suffer from embarrassment at how quickly his body reacts to you. 

He likes you so, so fucking much.

~

“I don’t think I’m feeling it today.” You respond to the muffled voice of your “boyfriend” on the phone, asking if he can come over to see you. 

“What? Why not?” He asks back, his voice concerned. 

“Do you want me to be honest?” You finally say with a long and annoyed sigh, giving up on any hope that this relationship will ever go any further than it already has. 

You’re fed up with feeling unwanted, undesired, and possibly even uninteresting. He’s the one person in your life that you care about when it comes to who you are and what you look like. His reaction, or lack thereof, regarding you as both a person and his girlfriend feels astonishing and does nothing more than make you question what it is that you’re doing wrong. 

It has to be you, right? Perhaps your body isn’t as pretty as he wants it to be, is that it? Or maybe your voice annoys him? God, what if he cringes thinking of how you’d move if he were to actually have sex with you? What if he doesn’t think about it at all? 

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to let the intense insecurity weigh on you. You always promised yourself that you’d never let a man make you rethink your worth. 

You need to live up to that promise. 

“Chan, it’s been nice and all, but I think we should break up.” 

The silence he offers to you is entirely too loud, and feels more like a confirmation in your head that this is the exact choice you should be making right now. 

He’s thrown for a loop though, standing at his kitchen table staring off at the wall as you say those words. 

What did he do wrong? 

“Wha–” He cuts himself off, trying to find words to say. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” 

You let out another breathy sigh, annoyed at the way he plays dumb. 

“I’m shocked you’re asking me that. I’ve been wondering if you were ever going to break up with me yourself, y’know?” You let out a sad little chuckle before you feel that insecurity he instilled in you burn against your eyes. “I’m just making it easy for you, so that you can go and spend your time with someone that you’d rather be around.”

He pauses, still dumbfounded by what you’re saying. 

“Why are you saying that?” He bellows out in a deeper tone, making you feel as though he’s angry with you now. “I’d rather be around you.” 

“Oh? Is that right?” You roll your eyes now, annoyed. “Is that why you push me away when I try to kiss you? Or what about– what about when you left the party last week after I sat on your lap?” 

Ah. He knew it. He knew he should have admitted it. Despite his consistent apologies for his body acting on instinct to run away from you, he should have really tried to see from your point of view rather than his own. Even if he only ran to hide the fact that he is horribly aroused by you at all times, in every given moment. 

You can hear a pained groan fall from his lips, and a door opening on his end. 

“I’m coming over.” 

He doesn’t let you protest, and instead hangs up the phone. You sit there in silence at his rejection of your break up. As if it were his choice? As if he had any say in it? You want to break up, that’s final. 

Still, that doesn’t explain why you don’t call him back to tell him not to come. It also doesn’t explain why your heart is thumping against your chest in anticipation.

Or, maybe there is something to explain why you’re feeling butterflies over his blatant refusal. Perhaps, this is the first time you’ve felt wanted by him? 

That also makes it worse. Why should your boyfriend make you feel this way only when you’re breaking up with him? Why can you only see that he cares when he’s faced with the idea of losing you? By the way he’s acting, you can argue that he wouldn’t be losing anything precious to him if you were to walk out of his life right this moment. 

Still, you sit here in wait. More curious now to see if maybe you'll figure out why he refuses to look at or touch you in a way that would show you he wants you.

~

The first thing Chan does when he steps through the door of your apartment is slip his shoes off. The second thing he does is stand there awkwardly, as if every thought left his head upon seeing your face.

You look like you’ve been crying. 

“This is my fault.” He says with a slight crack in his voice. “Because I keep hiding from you….right?”

You nod silently, remaining on your couch that faces his timid and stiffened figure. 

He stares at you, examining the consequences of his own actions. 

“You want to break up because I haven’t tried to, like, do things with you.” He winces as he says it, struggling to not feel awkward talking about having sex. He’s embarrassed, but would be even more embarrassed if he lost a girlfriend over this. 

“That’s not the only reason.” You shake your head, looking away from him and to your hands as you pick at your nail beds. “I’d be okay with no sex if you’d simply tell me why. The fact that you haven’t told me anything–” Your voice cracks a little bit, feeling stupid for being so emotional over such a short lived relationship. “It kind of destroyed my confidence.”

He watches the way you refuse eye contact, which is something that stabs him directly in the stomach. He can feel it drop to the floor, adrenaline making its way into that empty space you’re creating for him. 

“Before we break up, I just want to know why it took this for you to act like you genuinely might have feelings for me.” 

He stumbles over his thoughts the same way he stumbles over his feet trying to approach you. 

By now, he doesn’t think he can ever feel more embarrassed than he does at this moment. He crouches down in front of you, sad that you didn’t laugh at the way he nearly knocked himself out on your living room floor. Then he looks at you, chasing your line of sight as if to reassure you through nothing but the air in the room.

“I was afraid you’d laugh at me.” He starts, and after seeing that your expression doesn’t change even a little bit, he continues. “You seemed so into me that I–” He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be as honest as he can be. “I just didn’t know how to act.” 

You look at him with irritation at those words. 

“Of course I was fucking into you. Why else would I have agreed to be your girlfriend?” You roll your eyes, pushing yourself back into the couch cushions and away from his crouched body. “Think about how I feel. The fact that you just watch me throw myself at you time and time again? The fact that you rejected me every single time? How is that not giving you the answers you need as to why I’m breaking up with you?”

He takes note of that heightened voice of yours, defensive and likely more hurt than you’re letting on. 

“Listen–” He breathes in, trying to internally hype himself up to bite the bullet. 

You were listening, but he’s keeping whatever it is he’s thinking about in his head for just a second too long. 

“No, I think we’re done h-” 

“I’m a virgin.” He interrupts you, lowering his gaze to the floor and refusing eye contact with you. 

Your eyes shoot to him though. The last thing you would have expected was for him to be a–

“You’re–” You try to repeat his words for confirmation, but he interrupts you again. 

“I can promise you it’s not because I don’t want to do these things with you.” He says, still staring at the floor. “It’s because I was afraid that you’d lose interest over it.” 

Your mouth falls open as you look at him, every feeling of frustration in your body disappearing almost immediately. 

“It’s because I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to, like, be any good at it.” He continues to admit. “I was trying to work up the courage to tell you, or to just like, do it.” He rambles, now scooting back and standing up to his feet. “And if you still want to break up, I understand. I just thought I at least owed you an explanation.” 

You watch as he nods to himself in an unsure way, turns on his heel, and heads back to the door to slip his shoes back on. 

You sit in stunned silence as your brain erases every single insecurity you gained over this month and a half relationship before jumping to your feet. If anyone could have been more insecure about this than you were, it was him. And now that you can see that, the guilt hits you twice as hard as the presumed break up would have. 

“You’re a virgin?” You ask, though that wasn’t at all the words you intended to say. “I mean, you kept pushing me away because you didn’t want to disappoint me?”

He nods timidly, halting his body and still refusing to look at you. 

He has one shoe on, and his other foot half in the other when you make your way over to him, closing the distance quickly and confidently.

“Don’t leave.” You say first, before physically moving his body for him to remove that foot from his half-on shoe. “Chan, I’m your girlfriend. We can wait for as long as you need, I just...”

You pause, now feeling annoyed with yourself for making it about you. Then again, it’s not like you could read his mind. Though, thinking back to all of those instances where he pulled away from you before, perhaps you could have read context clues a little better. 

“I didn’t know–” You trail off, now determined to save the relationship that both of you accidentally started to sink. “Did I make you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”

He feels…relieved by your words. Saying you could wait, asking what it is that made him so afraid to admit it. 

Finally, he presses one foot against his other, pulling his foot out of his shoe and stepping back, looking at you with eyes fonder than you’ve ever seen them.

“It’s not that I felt I couldn’t tell you. I was just embarrassed.”

You very nearly coo out at him, but you keep your distance with both your words and your body now. 

“It’s not that I’m not ready to lose it. Especially with you.” He admits, glancing at you for a reaction before sighing. “I think I’ve been ready for a long time, again, I was just embarrassed and also knew that I should probably tell you at some point…”

“You want to give your virginity to me?”

You watch as he blows his hair up through puckered lips, rolling his eyes before smiling at you.

“It’s not that I view virginity as sacred or anything either. There’s just a lot of weight that people tend to put on it, and I wasn’t sure how you’d react.” He tries to explain as his body relaxes by the minute. “I wanted you to be my first time, yeah. When I asked you to be my girlfriend, I knew I wanted you to be the one to show me what all the hype is about.”

You’d laugh if it weren’t for the fact that this is still kind of a touchy subject. You’re not entirely sure how you feel about being someone’s first time, but you know you have feelings for him and to deny him of sex after you blatantly wanted it so bad from him…Okay, maybe you’re just in your head. Of course you’d be happy to be his first time. 

Ecstatic even. 

“So….” You sway on your feet, looking up at the ceiling before landing your eyes on him playfully. “It’s not because you think I’m disgusting or like, not living up to the standards you want for a girlfriend?”

“Jesus, no.” He says. 

You watch him scratch the back of his head, still probably embarrassed by how low this relationship had fallen due to the awful communication skills. 

“And you’re also kind of admitting that you have thought about it?” You continue, prying out the words you’ve wanted to hear so badly since you met him. 

He pulls back only a little bit, his cheeks warming at the words and the way his brain automatically thrusts him into the thoughts of all of those nights where he absolutely fucking thought about it. 

“Y-yeah. Yes. I have thought about it.” He nods in a self-reassuring way as his eyes land on everything in the room but you. 

You’re quick to give him your own reassurance though, trying to learn his boundary now that the secret is out and the relationship appears to have a second chance at succeeding. 

He can feel you close in on him, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling your face against his neck. There, he holds you back, breathing in deep and feeling the scent of you wash through his body. 

Quite literally actually. As he would normally avoid, his lower half reacts far too quickly to even the simplest of touches from you. 

He pulls back on instinct, but you don’t release your grip this time. 

“You seem as ready as ever, I’ll admit.” You laugh upon feeling him stiffen against you, but you really do try not to shame him for it. “Still, we can wait until you feel ready enough to give it a shot, okay?”

He nods, entirely reassured by the way you don’t press up against it or comment any further about the happenings in his pants right now. Then he sighs out. 

“I can imagine I must look like an idiot right now, getting hard over a fucking hug.” He finally says as he pulls from the hug and makes his way back to your living room. “But we’re okay, right? You’re not breaking up with me?”

You follow after him, keeping your sexual distance, but absolutely indulging in the loving, sweet, and careful cuddling you’ve wanted to do with him for so long now. 

He appears comfortable when you tuck yourself under his arm and rest your head on his chest before answering him.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” You say, feeling his chest heave with each breath and intentionally ignoring the blatant tent in his pants slowly fall back into its flaccid position as he calms down. “It’s kinda cute, you know? That you were so worried about it.” 

His cheeks are still on fire, willing his body to calm itself through this sweet session of cuddling. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment with you, and still, it is embarrassing in the way he knows you’re ignoring it for his sake too.

But goddamn, how heavenly it would be for you to like, touch it right now…..or something. 

“Never thought of it as cute, if I’m being honest.” He tries to joke. “If anything, maybe it's a little pathetic on my part.”

You shake your head against him, feeling more confident of your place in his life. 

“Pathetic? Don’t be mean to yourself. Besides, it’s kind of hot knowing that you got so turned on over a simple hug.” You laugh, hoping you’re not crossing a boundary. “No wonder you ran so fast when I sat on your lap, I definitely would have felt that on me.”

“Alright, alright–” He tries to hush you of your playful remarks, but ultimately, if you really think it’s an attractive aspect of whatever sexual dynamic the two of you will come to have, he’s going to make damn sure you see just how fucking turned on you make him. 

~

Things are good. Great even, now that you can pin point each moment your boyfriend gets a little too overwhelmed with you. He does still push you away, probably out of instinct but he doesn’t shy away nearly as much from intimate moments with you. Especially if the two of you are alone together. 

You’re a bit more careful in public or with friends though, because the last thing you want to do is make him feel insecure about it. Still, there are playful moments where you indulge in the act of touching him or kissing him just to get him excited, just to watch him stutter his way through ordering something. 

The point is, you almost ended a relationship with someone who, arguably, makes you feel more wanted than you ever knew you could. It’s nice, and it feels good. 

Even now, this is only your second full on make-out session with him, you feel absolutely adored. It’s cute in the way he’s trying to train himself to not get hard at even the simplest of touches, it’s even cuter when his efforts fail miserably and he’s arching his body away from you as if he could even hide what he’s packing. 

You don’t push for more, despite wanting it badly. He also doesn’t push…despite also wanting it just as much as you do, if not more. He still seems to need a push of confidence to actually go any further than a nice, non-body touching makeout session. 

This is fine though, and you indulge far more than you ever knew you would when it comes to this kind of thing. As if simply licking into his mouth is foreplay enough to counter a fucking blowjob for him. 

Never in your life did you think you’d be this into the fact that your boyfriend is a virgin. And it’s not even that he’s never had sex, it’s that he seems to want it so bad, and there’s just something about a man who is desperate that gets you going these days. 

Still, kissing him is something that fulfills you, especially with the way he’s avoiding his lower half and keeping it away from you. 

He kisses you back in a telling way though, more telling than that tent in his sweatpants that you can visualize even while your eyes are closed. He radiates the arousal through the way he moves his lips against yours, and the way he lets out little suffering sounds when you kiss him harder and harder. 

His hands stay against your face, neck, and sometimes your waist, but god. His kissing is genuinely just so good with the way it tells on him every few seconds. 

And when he pulls back, he’s out of breath, flushed, and looking as if he would want nothing more than for you to hint, to lay down some sort of implication that he can cling to for relief from the heaviness that’s been in his pants since the fucking relationship started.

You wonder if tonight is the night, because he doesn’t appear to want to stop making out like he did last time. If anything, as he looks at you with those heaving breaths, you can tell he’s thinking harder than he ever has about it. 

“Chan,” You whisper out to him, just inches from his face. “Do you think of me?”

When he keeps his eyes on you, seemingly stunned by your question, you continue. 

“Do you think of me after you leave? When you’re all by yourself in your room–” You turn your head so that your eyes can trail to the space he is attempting to keep from you. “When you’re touching yourself?” 

He feels the words run straight through him, causing an utterly pathetic twitch in his pants. The way your voice comes out soft and sensual as you ask him, as you look at him. He doesn’t even remember words at this moment, not even a simple “yes”. 

He tries to answer by losing a little bit of his self control, turning your head back to him with his palm just so he can chase against your lips out of the sheer arousal, but you pull away. 

“Do you?” You continue, encouraging him to answer you. 

“So much,” He wills himself to whisper confidently, ignoring the fact that his body just forced him to rut up and against nothing, all for you to see. “Every time I leave,” He puts emphasis on his words. “Sometimes I can’t even make it home first.” 

You smile at the image of him rubbing against himself in his car, so desperate to relieve himself of what you do to him each time he comes to see you. Not even making it out of the seatbelt before releasing all over himself, all in his pants. Shaking, panting, all alone and without you. 

“Cute,” You chuckle, finally turning your head slightly and landing a pop kiss on him. “I think of you when I do it too, every time you leave.” 

He looks at you, willing his hips to stay put as he thinks about the image of you doing that in this very room, to images and thoughts of him. 

“You do?” He asks for reassurance easily.

“Mhm,” You look away from him as you sit straight up and then scoot down the bed. There, you lay yourself down against your pillows and look at him. “Come here.” 

He’s reluctant to take your hand. But even he can admit that this side by side makeout session is starting to hurt his neck, and you’re clearly asking him to get on top of you right now. 

“You don’t have to but, Chan–” You say, looking down, “I don’t want you to leave this time.” 

Well, shit, all you had to do was say that. Honestly, the way you look at him with pure acceptance is enough to push him past the wall in his head that keeps him from finally trying to take the next step. You accept him as he is now, surely you’d accept him if he…. doesn’t last, right? What about if he isn’t good at it? 

Still, he finds himself planting one hand on the other side of your head to balance himself on top of you. Still just hovering, not yet wanting or willing to, you know, put it against you. 

You smile. 

“It’s okay, I can tell you’re nervous. We don’t have to do anything else, I’m happy with just this.”

And then you both fall back into another, much more comfortable and natural feeling, makeout session. 

As much as you’d love for him to try and take control, his reluctance allows you to contain yourself. It allows you to respect him and his decision of whether or not he wants to do anything more than this. Still, this satisfies you. And if he really does stay, maybe he wouldn’t be entirely against watching you take care of your own arousal for him. Maybe he’d feel better watching even, taking notes on what you like, learning where to touch you. 

And you know, that really would have been okay but you can’t help but feel like he’s definitely wanting more. With the way his lips grow hungrier rather than more tired, with the way he’s starting to moan shamelessly into your mouth, with the way his hands are trying to travel to more intimate places on your body before stopping himself. 

You might be pushing it with the assumption, but it doesn’t hurt to try and help him, right?

When you feel his hands moving to your waist, up, up, and up until they’re just barely brushing against the underside of your breast, he pulls back again and pulls your shirt down to cover the exposed skin, all while kissing you harder.

You place your hand over his, wasting not even a second as you guide him back under your shirt, right up to where you know he wants to touch. 

And holy fuck does he. He doesn’t even pull back when you lay it against the warm and exposed flesh from under your shirt. His hand immediately starts groping. His lips immediately stutter against you in a relieved sigh from him, and all you can do is kiss him now with the same energy he seems to have in that one single hand. 

“You’re allowed to touch me, but if you need help doing it, just tell me–” You pull back to whisper, trying to take it another step further in the act of kissing against his jaw and down his neck. “I want to touch you too, but I’ll keep my hands to myself unless you tell me otherwise.”

It’s like he really forgets how to talk or give proper consent when his entire body is acting like a fucking greenlight for you right now. He feels so pathetic, on the verge of orgasm with nothing more than the soft fabric of his sweatpants to relieve him, and yet your breast in his hand, nipple hardening under his palm before he musters the courage to put it between his fingers, it’s a lot to take in, okay?

Still, he tries to say something, and he’s even more embarrassed by the way his voice sounds like it isn’t even his own. He sounds broken when the sound reaches his ears. 

“Don’t–” He starts, cutting himself off at the feeling of your lips kissing against the pulse point of his neck. 

“Hm?” You ask, pulling back and away, hoping you didn’t press too much. 

“Don’t stop.” He mutters out again, a little less embarrassed now that he feels you sigh against that same pulse point with the way his fingers fondle your nipple mindlessly. “Don’t keep your hands to yourself.”

Your brain falls into a stunned silence at his words, bringing a type of nervousness to bubble up in your own body. Is this really it? Is this when it’s going to happen? On a saturday night, against your pillows, muffled cartoons playing in the background…..past ten in the evening? 

You can’t help it as you kiss against his neck. You really can’t, with the way he opens himself up to be vulnerable with you while actively being on top of you, while playing with your breasts, while containing himself.

He seems to need you to do the pushing, but you really cannot shake the nervousness of being his first. You’re almost certain he is nervous about so many things, but still he appears to be eager to try. He’s eager to be with you, and, ultimately, to know what it feels like to be with another person that matters to him in that way. 

“Is there–” You stop, breath caught in your throat, only to fall out against his throat when he finally seems to have the confidence to make his first move. One that would seem so small to anyone else, but he– he raises a hand and holds the back of your neck, trying to press your lips and guide them to the area of his neck that he wants you to kiss. 

And you do, with blatant encouragement to him for doing that, all while trying to finish your previous thought. 

“Is there anything you want me to do for you?” You ask, kissing and now, licking against the spot on his neck that makes him shiver. 

He sighs in a shudder, craning his neck to expose more skin for you before his hand stills against your nipple and he pulls his hand from your shirt. 

“All of it?” He starts, a bit unsure of himself. “Everything?” He adds, pulling himself back from your lips and watching you fall back to your pillows. He leans his body up, relieving his legs from his weight and sitting on his heels in front of you, only slightly between your legs now. 

You can see that he has a bit more confidence with the way he’s looking at you. 

“I want to try all of it.” He continues, placing two hands on your knees, pushing your legs together and using his palms to make them sway left and right. It’s as if he’s thinking hard. “I mean, if you want to.”

You smile. 

You want nothing more than to do this with him, for him, and for yourself. 

“Yeah?” You ask for confirmation, now lifting yourself and re-positioning yourself onto your knees to mimic his own stance. 

He nods in a blatant and shy way, knowing that you can physically see how badly he wants this, and how badly he wants you to be the one to do this with him. He’s achingly hard, and he isn’t sure if he’s ever managed to get this fucking hard in his entire life.

It really is painfully arousing, with the way his pants stretch against the head when he’s sitting like this. The way the fabric offers little to no sensation but while looking at you, he feels all fucked up and warm. He tries to forget that there’s precum all over him, seeping through the pants that are presented before you, and god, the way you look right at it. 

He doesn’t shy away despite being as shy as he could possibly be right now. In fact, when your eyes trail back up to him, licking your lips before smiling, he a fucking goner. He knew he wanted you bad, but never did he know he needed you this badly. 

He’s so fucking lucky. 

“It looks… big.” You comment, leaning forward only slightly and sizing your boyfriend up. “But for your sake, I’ll try to control myself from moving too fast. I’ll go slow, okay?”

He doesn’t even nod, he’s too entranced with you in front of him, fully clothed, lifting his own shirt off of him as if he is incapable of doing it himself. Then again, he kind of is incapable at this moment. He swears his IQ must’ve dropped to a single digit by this point. 

And when that shirt comes up and over his head, you note that he doesn’t even blink. That small moment where his face was obscured as you pulled it off of him? His eyes stayed on you both before and after, only now– his hair is a total fucking mess and all you can do is feel endeared by it. 

“God, you’re so fucking attractive,” You groan in sexual frustration with an eyeroll. “I can’t believe someone hasn’t jumped your bones yet.”

Now he breaks eye contact at the praise, glancing away from you and trying his hardest not to smile like an idiot at those words. 

“To be fair, I’ve fucked up my fair share of relationships being embarrassed.” He laughs. “Kinda glad I did though.”

You land your eyes back on him, staring blankly at his naked chest and trying your damnedest not to look at him like he’s some piece of meat. But goddamn, the body of this man. 

“Come here, switch places with me.” You smile, reaching forward and trying not to think too hard about the way his arms flex when you grip them to move him. “Here, lay back.” 

And within seconds, you’re between his legs and looking down at his half-lidded, arousal driven eyes. 

“Fuck, really?” You groan again, glancing away. “It’s really taking everything in me, Chan, it really is.”

His heart is doing flips as he stares up at you. He feels doted on, adored, attractive. So he encourages more of those annoyed praises from you. 

“Taking everything in you to…?” 

You chuckle, because the audacity of this drunk and in love fool. 

“Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to be in this exact position?” You smile, reaching down to run your fingers down his chest and straight to that happy trail that he so readily hid from you. “It’s taking everything in me to slow down–”

“Then don’t.” He says proudly, albeit still a bit shy at your words. 

You can see how red his ears are, only partially hidden by that head of messy ass hair. His stupid pretty eyes and gentle smile are directed straight at you without any type of reluctance. 

“There’s my confident boyfriend.” You chuckle, toying with the hair beneath his belly button and trying to not comment on the way his body jumps a bit at the feeling. “Was wondering where he went after he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

And he remains silent after that, watching the way you take the reins and lean down to kiss against that same spot of his neck. Warm breath fanning over the skin before attaching yourself there. 

Surely you can feel the way his hips react, humping up at each flutter of your lips. If you couldn’t, he knows for a fact that you’ll be able to now. With the way you trail down, across his own sensitive nipples, and then down, down, down. 

He glances down at you at the same time when you glance up at him and right then and there he thinks he melts. He’s never seen a woman look at him from this angle, and it’s only a little bit detrimental to his heavy and pathetic cock. The twitching never stops, he feels so fucking sticky in his pants and it really just doesn’t stop. Continuous leaking, and he really had no idea that there could even be this much pre-cum. 

Then, he’s pulled out of his thoughts with….a tickle?

“Oh?” You smile, leaning down to repeat that lick up his happy trail before landing a kiss straight on his belly button. 

His body jumps again, and he lets out a moaned chucked unintentionally. 

“Oh.” You smile wider, gripping both of his hips with your hands and holding him down in a playful way. Repeating the act once again. 

Your suspicions are confirmed with a third jump of his body, and another chuckled, frustrated moan. 

“So, he’s ticklish too?” You say with another kiss against his belly button before fluttering your fingers at the side of his hips. 

His entire body goes rigid before melting against the bed in an attempt to not react to the way you take advantage of a hidden weakness he had. God, he should have known that…like, sex stuff could be ticklish. 

“No– I’m not.” He lies, jolting again when you continue to test the resilience he thinks he has against your lips and fingers. “Hey–!”

And, well, you would’ve stopped if it weren’t for the fact that his hips raise with each tickled sensation, and you can genuinely feel how damp and heavy he is in his pants. It’s entirely arousing in the way its weight is obvious through his attempts to wiggle from your ticklish touches. 

“Alright,” You finally relent, landing one final kiss to his belly before licking down that same line of hair he offers his body. “Chan, I want to–”

His hips immediately raise to your words, the wetness from your tongue feels like ice against his skin when the air hits it and at this point, he thinks he knows what you’re suggesting. 

“Please–” He nearly cries out in a stutter. “Touch it.”

You smile as you nuzzle your nose against his abdomen before giving him a short nod that you know he doesn’t see. Considering, well, he just threw his arm over his face and keeps his hips tensed, and his ass only slightly lifted off of the bed. 

Desperate. Willing. 

You prepare yourself for seeing it for the first time by not seeing it at all just yet. Instead, you kiss down until your lips are met with warm, damp fabric. Immediately you can feel his length twitch under your lips when you reach it, and all you can manage to do is flatten your tongue out and against it to feel it pulse again. 

And again, until that same arm thrown over his face reaches down in a desperate attempt to take the pants off for you. He’s the one losing his self control now, no embarrassment or nervousness in sight from him, and it’s so fucking attractive to see him do it.

His shaking fingers fumbling with the waistband, shoving the pants down just an inch or so more to reveal more of that trimmed hair.

You don’t comment on the way he’s acting out of fear that it’ll make him feel shamed or even mocked, despite you truly believing it might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen a man do in front of you. 

Instead, you help him. Sinking your own fingers beneath his pants and tugging them down all in one go before allowing your eyes to land on it. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” He moans out, the air alone offering an overwhelming amount of sensation due to the temperature change he now feels between his legs. 

You finally look at it, so dark in color. As if all of the blood in his body resides only here. You gently move your hand just over it, feeling the heat radiate from him, seeing the precum continuously dribble from the head, and then, finally– 

“You’re so….” You trail off, in awe of the way his body just….keeps reacting. So much pre-cum. “Hard.” 

He releases a broken little sound at the feeling of your fingers finally touch him, and it feels insanely different from when he touches it himself. As if he’s not in control of his pleasure, and it’s all just you. You are the one who feels good against him. 

You’re shocked briefly when his hand makes it’s way back down to yours, grabbing it and essentially trying to get you to stimulate him more. He puts so much pressure against your hand, sandwiching it between his own palm and stiffened cock. 

You’re tuly in awe. This man has essentially edged himself to a world record, surely. 

“Slow down,” You try to soothe him, moving your hand against him and watching him retract his hand. “Relax, It must feel good, right?”

That little sob he lets out shows you his frustration. So needy, so ready. And even with you moving your fingers to circle his pulsing length, his hips continuously fuck up, not allowing him to have even a moment without a forceful amount of stimulation. 

“So good,” He moans, entire brain focused on what your hand is doing and unable to open his eyes. “I want it so bad.”

You don’t think he hears you chuckle and you’re thankful he doesn’t. You can imagine he would genuinely be embarrassed to know you’re witnessing his pure blissed-out and aroused-state of mind right now. 

And it’s not shocking that he’s entirely focused on himself at this moment, because he’s the one experiencing this for the first time. Even if you find it hard to believe that another woman has never touched his dick, you’re entirely flattered that it very well may be the case and that he wanted you to be the one to make him feel this good. 

“I’ll give it to you, just relax. I’m not going to stop.” You reassure his needy movements, and the way his body squirms at the slightest of touches. “What feels good?”

God, he’s so frustrated. 

“All of it.” He groans shortly, trying to take in a deep breath and just relax like you asked him too. 

You nod to his closed eyes and slacked mouth, fighting against his hips to be the one to pleasure him rather than himself and only when you blow a gentle breath against the head of his cock do his hips still and he shoots his hands up to your pillows, gripping them as if he’s preparing for something. 

You watch intently at the way he’s actively fighting to move now, waiting impatiently for you to do something now. Licking his lips, chewing on his bottom lip– god, he’s so pretty up there. 

Then, you grant him a new sensation. Only because by this point you’re the one who is about to lose control. 

You stick out your tongue and lick all the way from his balls to the head of his cock, making sure to keep pressure against it so that you can taste all of the arousal he’s spilled up until now. And while you were going to pull back to examine his reaction, this is the part where you release your self control.

The taste alone was enough to have you moaning, vibrating your voice against the vein of his length and then circling your lips around the head. 

Instantly, you suck at the feeling of pre-cum still pouring out of him. This time, there seems to be more. Coating your tongue with an almost sweetened salty taste. 

You feel briefly the way his hips chase the new warmth, clearly wanting to tuck itself into your mouth and quite possibly, down your throat, but you pull back and blow once again against the head. 

His entire body shivers as you glance up at him. 

You can barely comprehend just how into you he looks right now before rolling your own eyes in arousal at the image before immediately giving him everything your mouth has to offer.

Who cares if he comes too fast? Fucking look at him. You’d be stupid not to suck the absolute life out of him! That’s your boyfriend up there, chewing on his bottom lip, eyes sparkling through hooded lids, chest heaving–

And god, you almost wish he wasn’t as big as he is because it’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you take it in. You have to focus on sliding it through your lips, against your tongue, and right up to the back of your throat where the head of his cock bumps.

He can feel the way your fingers grip his legs through it, and by this point he has gone entirely non-verbal at the feeling. 

The only sound he can make comes from deep within his chest, and he can only release those sounds with heaved out and rigid breaths. His heart is pumping faster and faster the deeper you managed to take him, and–

“Ah! W-wait!” He panics, sitting straight up and becoming fucking floored at the way you stay on him. Moving your hands to his stomach and trying to shove him back. “Fuck,” He seethes as he takes in a sharp inhale, legs shaking as he flops back against the pillows. “Fuck, i’m sorry.” He continues to murmur, feeling himself hit the wall of orgasm and practically pulverize it. 

And you, oh, you. You taste it. You feel the twitching and the way his muscles stiffen under your fingers. You can hear him muttering apologies as it spills into your mouth, down your throat, and even out of the corners of your lips. 

You try to take all of it, up until you can’t fucking breathe, and only then do you pull up and replace your mouth with your hand, watching in awe at the way he just……

It doesn’t fucking stop. 

He went from rigid to stammering his words, to now blatantly and full-on moaning through both the pleasure and frustration of losing the warmth of your mouth. 

“God, Chan….” You whisper in a raspy voice, slowing your hands and intentionally pumping it out of him by now. 

“I’m sorry–” He stammers, body still shaking as you pull the rest of it out of him. “I tried to,” He winces with another unintentional moan. “I didn’t think it would feel that good.”

You smile both proudly and fondly, watching him stumble through his words and whatever excuse he tries to come up with. 

“I don’t think you know how hot you look right now.” You finally say, in a more stern voice. “You couldn’t have stopped me if you wanted to.” 

Only now, when he’s absolutely drenched himself in his release does he open his eyes in a drowsy way. He looks at you and that little smile on your lips and decides that, yeah, he can believe you. He trusts you, and he’s entirely obsessed with you. 

“But we still haven’t–”

You cut him off quickly.

“We have all night. All day tomorrow. All week, month, year. I don’t care.” You dead-pan, reaching for his, somehow, still hard length. “Chan.” You add, gripping it and testing the actual hardness of it. “You’re still hard, which is fucking amazing by the way, and you have no idea how wet I am right now.”

Oh, my god. He forgot. 

“You– you’re turned on?” He asks, looking away from you. 

“So fucking turned on.” You confirm for him, now releasing his length to give him a bit of a rest, considering he must not realize he’s still shaking. “Look, feel.” 

You say it as you crawl up and on top of him, seating yourself right up against his abdomen and grabbing his hand. 

He just stares, watching you guide his hand straight to the seat of your shorts. 

“Oh.” He sighs out. 

“Even through my shorts. See? Feel it.” You continue to move his hand against you, trying not to rut your own hips up much like he was doing before. 

Brain malfunction. He doesn’t even have a fucking IQ at this point as his cock immediately reacts in all of it’s sensitive, pathetic glory. 

“Do you want me to, um,” He swallows around a breath he didn’t know he needed. “touch you? Can I try?”

You sigh, relieved that he’s willing and immediately push yourself off of him and take care of all of the busy-work as quickly as possible. ie: taking off your clothes.

Unfortunately, you somehow briefly forgot that the man is still a fucking virgin. You can very nearly see his mouth fall open at your nude body being revealed to him. Even more so, you can see the dribble of saliva that he doesn’t quite catch fast enough, and his cock reacts. 

“You’re so cute, god.” You praise with the same compliment you’ve been giving him all night. 

And when you seat yourself next to him, hugging one of his arms and tucking it between your legs before closing your thighs around it, you smile at him and the way he literally cannot stop staring with his mouth agape. 

“Babe, you’re drooling.” You chuckle, shifting your hips a bit to rub yourself against his knuckles, where you’re still hugging his arm. 

Only then does he slurp up his embarrassment and try to remain calm. His fogged brain comes back to him quickly upon your comments as he wills himself to sit up beside you. 

He gets to….touch you. 

And boy does he. 

Eagerly, messily, and quite frankly, kind of embarrassingly. 

You make it easier for him though, laughing as you flop back and spread your legs for him. He’s quick to simply…explore. He’s not aiming for any singular area of your pussy because to be quite honest, he’s still struggling to stop staring at the entirety of you. 

You watch his eyes, the way they stare at your tits, then your thighs, your pussy being petted by his fingertips, and then– eye contact. 

He seems so sure of himself despite still managing to barely touch the clit. It doesn’t bother you one bit, because his eager fingers still find ways to touch you beautifully. There’s so much intent behind the messy movements. 

Slipping and sliding two fingers between your lips, up your folds, and then stopping just short of your clit before sliding back down and feeling where his cock would go if he manages to make it this far. 

I mean, surely he will, right? He’s losing his virginity as he does this right now, even. Foreplay still counts, right? 

And then, after several minutes of him exploring, learning, and practically teasing you half to death, you reach down to guide him. 

“Right here,” You soothe out in a soft voice, pressing his fingers against your clit and seeing him take note of it. “And here.” You trail his fingers down until they reach your clenched hole, and you very slightly press against his fingers so that the tips just barely enter you. 

He tilts his head at you, concentrating on where you lead him before releasing his hand and essentially leaving him to his own devices now. 

And you know, he did tell you he was a quick learner, because almost immediately he’s experimenting with putting a finger into you, and using his other hand to find a rhythm to rub against your clit. 

The whole time, he checks for your reaction, noting when your breathing hitches and when your body tenses. He continues, trying to only do things that make your body react and soon, you’re already turning to mush beneath him.

His fingers circle and tap your clit at a quick pace, with the other twisted inside of you. When he slides his finger out, and then back in, he rubs your clit harder, and god, yeah. Okay. You see his effort, and it’s such a good fucking effort too.

“Feels good,” You finally moan out for him, allowing yourself to give in to the pure arousal of the entire situation taking place. Thinking hard about what it would feel like to have such a desperate cock inside of you. “Use two fingers?” 

He listens instantly, moaning along with you when he slides the other in with the next thrust. His fingers against your clit trail down shortly after, curiosity getting the best of him when he spreads your lips open to see you stretch around his fingers. 

“It’s so warm–” He comments more to himself than to you, watching the way you pulse around him, watching the way your slick seeps out of you. It’s so hot for him to see it up close like this, and his pace slows at the image before him. “Can you take more than two?”

You lift your head in amazement at how he could ask such a thing. 

“Chan.” You smile at the way he jumps in surprise at your sudden, louder voice. Fingers nearly slipping out of you. “I can take way more than just two fingers.” You glance down between his legs. “Way, way more.”

He glances down to what you’re looking at before letting out an embarrassed sob.

“You’re really going to let me?” He nearly whines in excitement. 

You nod, reaching for him and pulling him to you by his shoulders. You land a kiss against his lips, trying not to shake at the way his fingers angle different inside of you as he moves to chase your lips.

“Mhm,” You soothe against his lips, intentionally scooting your hips down to your best ability to sink his fingers into you more. “Move your fingers– it feels good like this.”

He listens, feeling you throw your arms around his neck and cling to him through it, all while moaning and groaning right up against his lips. You’re not even kissing him, you’re just….acting like this and it’s fucking great.

He thought he would be the only one to be desperate in this situation, yet here you are, clinging to him as he works his fingers in you. 

“When?” He finally asks upon noting the way you start to move your hips against his fingers. 

You peek your eyes open and pull back to look at him. 

“Now? Do you want to do it now?” 

He nods, slipping his fingers out of you and inspecting how wet they’ve become. 

“Can I?” 

You finally fall back, leaning against your elbows and spreading your legs wide in front of him. Lending him a nod, you watch the way he just freezes after the fact. 

All you can do is laugh at this moment with the way he loses any ability to remember how sex works. 

Then again, you wonder if he ever even watched porn, considering how he’s acting and couldn’t manage to find the clit. 

“Do you want me to be on top?” You question, blinking up at him and his blank expression.

He shakes his head at you, still frozen in his spot before his eyes slowly make their way down to the glistening sheen against your pussy. 

“Don’t we like, need a condom or something? I can’t promise I’ll be able to pull out.” He asks, finally glancing away. “I don’t know if I can last as long as you want me to….”

And with that, all you do is lunge forward, grab your boyfriend by the cock, and pull him to you. 

He laughs, you laugh, and then it’s silent when he leans over you, feeling his length lay against your core, already feeling spent but so, so ready to give himself to you. 

“I’m on birth control. You don’t need to pull out.” You smile evilly, wiggling your hips and watching the way he closes his eyes tightly as if to regain his composure of those words. 

“I’m seriously in love with you.” He mutters, pushing his hips forward and letting his length slide through the mess he made of you. 

You smile, feeling that by this point, your face may actually be stuck like this permanently, and lift your head to kiss against his lips once more. 

“You’re ready?” You ask quietly, against his lips. “I can help you adjust to where it needs to be. After that, I want you to do what feels best for you, okay?”

He nods timidly, taking in a deep and nervous breath before feeling your hand guide his length to the opening. 

“Go on, slide in it.” You encourage him. 

And he does. 

Slowly at first, gently, until he feels your wet hot walls envelop the head of his cock in full, clenching, pulling him in. 

His arms shake from either side of your head as he balances himself there, and it doesn’t take long for him to drop his head against your shoulder in deeper breaths than he was taking before.

The sensation is so much, it’s no wonder people like to have sex. It’s so good, you feel so, so good around him. He can’t help it when he slides in deeper, not stopping until he’s releasing a wet moan against your shoulder and holding onto you as if his life depends on it. 

He thought that once he got it all the way in, it would get easier. But it doesn’t. Even as the two of you are unmoving, with your hands in his hair and soothing him through it, you still clench him. Your pussy still stimulates it without either of you doing a damn thing.

You on the other hand, won’t admit to struggling through that one, long and languid thrust inside of you. It felt as if he was splitting you open despite how wet you already were, and still are. The heaviness, the consistent twitching, all of it stretches you out more than you even knew you’d need and god, it feels so good to have him just hold onto you like, to have him adjust to the feeling. 

He’s no longer a virgin, and that’s not even what matters right now. 

What matters is the way he continuously nuzzles his nose against you, snaking his head to your neck and moaning consistently against your ear when he manages to finally move. 

He pulls out only a little bit before his hips stutter at the sensitivity, then he pushes back in. 

In and out, in and out, until–

“Fuck.” He moans, lifting suddenly from your neck, sitting up, staring directly  at where his cock sits inside of you, and he just… lets go.

Knuckles white against the grip of your waist, he powers through the sensitivity, he fucks through it. Fast, with no real rhythm or ability to realize just how deep he’s pushing himself into you, and then….

He’s done for. 

“That’s it,” You encourage him through half moans at the feeling, your swollen clit begging for a little bit of attention too. “Shit, Chan, that’s it.” You continue, losing yourself in his reaction to you. 

He only moves faster, his hips only stutter more, and thank fuck he already came once because he wouldn’t have made it a solid inch into you before coming undone if he hadn’t. Now though? He’s pleasantly surprised to be lasting even this long. 

Until he’s not, of course. 

And there, between your legs, he presses in as far as he can reach and loses his breath. 

Eyes rolling back, eyebrows furrowing, mouth agape, a deep moan rumbles from his chest as his shiver flows through his body at the first release inside of you.

You immediately shoot your hands to your clit, feeling it pump inside of you much like it did in your mouth. Already so much, you feel entirely full, and entirely ready if he can manage to keep coming for as long as he did before. 

You fingers assault the swollen nub so fast, working yourself up much like you would during a quick session of masturbation, not wanting him to miss out on what it feels like to have a girl come on him– 

It hits you faster than you can realize. 

Even when he buckles and falls back to your chest out of breath, you can’t even tell him that it’s happening. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t move just yet. Well, until he feels your pussy clench him tigher than before. In a rhythmic way, almost. 

Only barely can he lift his head to watch you, and that’s when he notes that you’re holding your breath. 

You pussy is pulsing, and then–

“Are you?” He questions, experimenting with the idea of trying to thrust into you as he asks. 

There’s the breath you’d been holding. 

“Yes!” You call out, both to answer his question and to appreciate that little thrust he gave you.

Even if his cock is slowly becoming flaccid, you’re still full, and he can still feel the orgasm wash over you. 

He’s silent through it, wincing at his hyper-sensitive cock and very nearly cursing it out for not having waited just a minute longer to release– then, you’re hugging him. 

Tightly. So tightly, you’re holding onto him and breathing into his hair. He can barely breathe himself with this hold you have on him. Still, he doesn’t fight it, he simply lets you. 

Letting you cling, letting the last jolting pulses of your core push the rest of him out of you. There, he manages to lift from your weakening grasp and throw himself beside you. 

Out of breath, sweating, a total mess, he looks at you like he truly will never be able to love another person the way he does right now. 

And it falls silent for a long while before you roll over, throwing both an arm and leg over him. 

“Man,” You sigh out. “How does it feel?” You ask this time, opening your eyes to playfully look at him.

“Huh? What?” He asks, quirking a brow. 

“You know, now that you’re not a virgin anymore. How does it feel?” 

He thinks hard for like two seconds before taking in a deep breath and smothering himself against the top of your head. 

“Like I’m in love with you, maybe.”

And you know, given that this relationship is barely even considered one in the eyes of most people. You don’t think you care. 

“Because I made you feel good, or because you want to let me make you feel good for like…” You pause, lifting your head to look him in the eye. “the rest of your life?”

He doesn’t even have to think twice. 

“The second reason.” 

“You’re such a simp, Chan, really.” You joke, skewing your head fondly to look at him. “But I think it’s worth a shot.”

~

Chapter two: LOSER. [wonwoo] ― coming soon!

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