#how can one person encapsulate perfection

[biffhofosho]

The very last photo in NYC unhinged me for days. I'm never weaker than I am for ballcap Honey.

Missing jooheon hour: open

Rb with ur fave pics of honey bee please🥺🤲

[mc-critical]

1.10 / 1.09

[cent-scratchnsniff]

doodle dump

[togglesbloggle]

My boyfriend has really vivid, elaborate dreams. He’ll often wake up and talk about some grand narrative- travel, exploration, politics, performances. I’ve always been a little jealous, he can hold really good plots together for them sometimes.

But anyway, this does have a downside; vivid, elaborate dreams make for vivid, elaborate nightmares. I can usually tell when it’s one of those nights, since he grinds his teeth pretty badly.

I was never quite sure what to do when I knew he was having a bad time of it, though the grinding alone was enough to worry me and push me towards intervening. I used to just shake him gently, hope to rouse him just enough to reset the dream or something, but it wasn’t too effective and anyway waking him up all the time isn’t good for rest.

I’m rather proud of the strategy I eventually settled on: gently, so as not to wake him up, I’d lay one arm across his hands, wrapping his fingers around me so that he was holding on. Nightmares being nightmares, I can usually count on a pretty tight grip when this happens.

It may seem a little odd, but consider that holding on to something with both hands is typically a very agentic frame of mind. We hold on to things that give us power, in one way or another, and possessing objects often makes us feel powerful in some respects. That has consequences, even for a dreaming mind.

I knew it was working when he woke up rather mystified from one such dream, and told me that he’d been running through the caverns of some dungeon or cave system, pursued by monsters, but then all of a sudden he was holding a giant anime sword and fought them off instead. So I got to be a sword for him that night, I was delighted.

I don’t usually get to know exactly what happened, since even for a very vivid dreamer like Ritter, nine tenths of these things get forgotten. But I know I’ve been things like door handles, steering wheels, stuff like that. And even when I don’t know what I am to him, he doesn’t grind his teeth nearly as much- the sleep is deeper and more peaceful, so I get plenty of feedback that it’s working.

It’s such a perfect encapsulation of love in microcosm, isn’t it? No matter how much you mean to them, and how much they mean to you, the gap between two conscious lives is fundamentally separating you. But fundamental does not mean insurmountable. There’s this whole world in him, full of dreams and perspectives that I’ll never truly experience. But I will be a part of those worlds all the same, finding little ways here and there to make sure that the dreams of me make him a better, stronger, and happier person.

Or at least, so one hopes. It’s a difficult challenge, and things often go awry. But usually you get at least a little lucky.

[lilacgaby]

title: awaken.

pairing: barbarian!bakugo x goddess!reader,

synopsisꨄ. you've been asleep all this time, who knew a barbarian would be the one to awaken you?

(extended ver of this)

as katsuki wandered through the never ending forest, he let the words of the elders ring through his head. "you'll never be anything more than a placeholder for the next king."

he set off, destined to prove himself, show that he was worth more than any of them could predict. his father was worried and heartbroken at his sudden departure, but his mother understood that he'd need to do this now, or he'd never forgive himself.

the first thing he did as he set off was to secure food for the night. he eyed a group of hogs, all large and heavy, perfect for feeding him throughout the night. he grabbed the bow out of his satchel and aimed it at the largest one, which landed perfectly in his target's head. he couldn't help but to let out a celebratory laugh as it fell to the ground, making the hogs around it scurry off into the forest.

that seemed to be the last of his luck for the day. he now wished he chose a different day to set off, as the rains and winds were heavy, it was impossible to set up camp in the forest as it was. suddenly, through the curtains of heavy greenery, he saw an abandoned structure. he'd prefer anything to the harsh conditions mother nature set out on him now, so he cut through the vines as he made his way into the structure.

it was grand inside, he thought. he couldn't see very well thanks to the darkness brought on by the rains, but from what he could see it must have been a place of high regard in its peak.

he lit a torch, carrying it as he continued on into the structure. he determined it had been a church in its old days, long forgotten due to.. well he didn't figure that part out yet.

he bumped into a object that resembled a bench, besides the old candle wax, fresh leaves, and golden statutes he saw littering it. he made a mental note to take those with him as he organized his things onto the bench.

he laid his wine down first, a treat he'd enjoy on the way back to his kingdom. next, he laid down his clothes he planned to change into. though he was a barbarian, and by nature they did not wear many clothes, katsuki knew the trip would require such clothing, so he brought the best.

his next item was the huge hog he'd caught earlier. he lugged it on to the bench-like object, thinking of how it was a perfect spot to gut and prepare it for his meal later on. speaking of his cooking, he made sure to bring only the finest oils to cook in. he set it down next to the hog, satisfied with his array of items, he'd slumped against the bench, closed his eyes and sighed.

when he opened it again, he saw the shadow of a person moving behind him. alarmed, he readied his other weapon he always kept on his side, his blade welded by his mother.

though, his blade was dropped out of his hand at the sight. his jaw went slack, eyes wide, and the sudden urge to worship overcame him as he finally saw who was behind him.

a gorgeous.. deity? who glowed with an luminous essence, who adorned pointed ears, heavy amounts of gold, a silk dress that encapsulated your body, and an unreadable expression as you sifted through his items.

the ability to speak was taken from him, he felt as if he was at your mercy, and he was. he was on his knees before he could process it.

your hands glided through the items he had placed on the bench, after you finished looking through the group, you finally spared him a glance.

"your gifts are of high value," you spoke, your voice royal, with an unimaginable presence. "i'm not as powerful as i used to be, my temple and followers were lost to time, my memory faded from the minds of the new." you sauntered over to him now, becoming eye-level with him.

he'd never felt so unworthy.

"i have not much i can give you or do for you, so what would you like from me?"

his ability to speak finalky returned, his mind though, remained blank, so he answered with the only thing on his blank mind:

"your hand."

he immediately rescinded back, never feeling so unnerved and unknowing as he did in this moment. "i- it was an unreasonable request! you-- it's beneath y-"

"that's acceptable. i will go with you, barbarian."

he was shocked as you accepted, though he wouldn't dare question your judgement. "katsuki." he blurted out. "please call me katsuki."

"i will marry you, if it's what you desire katsuki."

his eyes shot open. "yes. i-- it's what i'd like."

"you may call me [name] then." he clutched his heart, he wasn't sure if he was dreaming, but if he was he'd never want it to end.

"alright.. [name]." you smiled at the hesitance in his voice, and waved his worries off with a smile.

"shall we head out then?"

"we can't, the weather is horrible."

"what weather? it's sunny as normal." surely enough, as he turned around the weather had returned to a calm, warm day. the harsh winds and rains no longer present, replaced by the mundane weather.

"i-- i suppose you're correct." he gathered his supplies, even getting your permission to take the things he had on your alter, as he learned it was, back with you two. he slung his satchel behind his back and turned to you.

you held out your hand, and after he placed a chaste kiss on it, he carried you in his arms. the journey back was a blur to him, the burning in his feet nonexistent as he focused on the feeling of his skin on yours, the feeling of his hands on your body.

you arrived sooner then expected. internally, katsuki was excited. not only did he manage to revitalize a goddess, but he'd marry her. he was ecstatic not only at the prospect of beating this into the elders' faces, but to be yours for his eternity.

as he burst back into the conference room, the elders were shocked to see him back so soon. the smug expressions they would've gotten were wiped off the second they noticed you in his arms.

even they, from their distance at their cabinets, could sense the raw presence you had.

"prince bakugo, what is the meaning of this?"

"i've brought to you undeserving folks my wife."

the table of elders all collectively choked at the revelation. "wife? but we've yet to go through the proper trails and period of compatibility. that woman isn't even a barbarian."

"you're right, she's above all of you. she's a deity, and i've earned her hand in marriage. i want my wedding planned for next week, make it fit for a god."

"a deity you say?" the elder's felt like their eyes were about to burst out their sockets. "but--"

they heard nothing as he walked away from the room, you still in his arms. as you eyed the new, strange innovations and buildings around you, katsuki clutched you closer to his chest.

he set you onto a bed, the feeling of silk under your hands one that was foreign, as you hadn't been awakened for over a century.

he knelt in front of you, taking off one of his necklaces, and wordlessly asking for permission to set it on you.

you didn't know this, but this was sacred to the barbarians, presenting one's necklace to another was like talking a piece of your soul and entrusting them with it.

he looked at the sight of you, his ruby necklace with the teeth of the beasts he slayed contrasting severely to the gold you adorned, and he smiled.

you felt your heart go into a knot at the sight of him, he held your hand as he suddenly made a vow to you.

"i vow to be your greatest worshipper. even if i am not the last, i will set a standard that will long exceed my lifespan.

for you are my wife now, and i'll cherish you as long as i may live."

you smiled softly, reaching out to him to hold his other hand. "you've already become my most interesting worshipper, that i'm certain of."

as the two of you basked in each others presence, other gods were smiling upon you two as well.

unbeknownst to you, zeus, a god who had favored you since your birth, had set off the storm on bakugo, leading him to your alter.

not like it was what you were pondering at the moment anyway, as you caressed and embraced your soon to be husband, who you were already planning to turn into a god alongside you.

[verysium]

some thought on us/reader/yn (i don’t know how to address it lol 😭) and seeing ex-boyfriend, who preferably myb cheated and now is dump struck how we got a new boyfriend/it’s been some time since last seeing ex)

um.....i'm assuming the bllk boys are the new boyfriend for this. hopefully, that's what you meant, but here you go anon:

kaiser absolutely thrives off this situation. this is the perfect chance to stroke his ego, so he's going to take full advantage of it. definitely notices your ex before you do and tugs you closer, arm wrapped around your waist, nose buried in your hair. obviously, you can't see his facial expression, but you can tell by the way he's smirking that he's definitely up to no good. when your ex finally realizes that your new boyfriend is THE michael kaiser, he's like... 😏 that's right bitch. keep ogling. y/n's doing so much better without you. even better if your ex is actually a fan of kaiser. his sadistic ass will not let that go. you want my autograph or something? oh wait...sorry i don't give out autographs to losers. deliberately sets out on a mission to make your ex's day an absolute hell, and he's smug about it too. once your ex is gone, he looks back and asks...so did i do good? no, you don't need to thank me. i'm already thanking myself. (he's so stupid....i love him.)

sae's reaction is encapsulated in one word. side-eye. he won't actually say anything, but the judgmental aura leeching off him is already enough to send your ex running in the opposite direction. i don't even think your interaction is going to last more than one minute because sae is just so intimidating. the entirety of japan already knows who he is, and compared to him, your ex is an absolute nobody. poor guy will probably never recover especially after seeing you and sae on the front of every tabloid, magazine, and news channel. his ego is broken, masculinity in ruins, reputation in tatters. and honestly.....serves him right.

rin holds an even stronger grudge than you do. he never lets any personal slight go without consequence. probably still holding every single mistake your ex has made in the past five years over his head. what did you even see in him? he's a lukewarm piece of shit. again....like sae, i don't think you would even need to say anything because rin's death glare already says enough.

shidou needs a restraining order because i don't think your ex is going to make it out alive. probably goes straight for the throat too. he genuinely enjoys seeing other people in pain whether physically or emotionally. will probably make out with you right in front of your ex just to fuck with his mind a little bit. hand placement is key. he places one hand behind your head and the other one grasps your ass. uses a lot of tongue. leaves you winded with starry eyes and swollen lips before he maniacally grins at your ex. he definitely enjoyed that a little too much.

barou has a quiet but menacing aura. he's very tall, so i think he would likely tower over your ex. and uh...have you seen his physique? he would probably cross his arms, and his biceps would bulge, and he would whisper in the lowest, most chilling tone: you got a fucking problem? and that's about all it takes because your ex may be a wimp but at least he has enough self-preservation to know you don't mess with someone like barou. probably kisses you on the forehead after that and his voice softens just tad...you okay, baby? (dfhkjsdhf i just blushed)

nagi wouldn't really care. nothing fazes him, especially not your ex because he's in the past now and that makes him irrelevant. but he definitely does not back down from subtly throwing some insults. oh...him? he's just y/n's ex. a weak guy not worth the hassle. don't bother. if your ex is stupid enough to actually confront him though....he's not going to hold back. shut up. you sure bark a lot for someone with no bite. pet store's two blocks away. maybe you should check out a new collar. lmao nagi can be painfully rude when he wants to be.

[elysian-fawn]

꒰ 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍 : 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 ! ꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⟡

꒰₊˚⊹꒱ whenever people gaze upon you it’s as though they’re looking at an angel who just so happens to grace earth as your beauty is far too perfect and harmonious to be that of a human

꒰₊˚⊹꒱ you innately wield an appearance so magnetic and mesmerizing, most often than not people have to remind themselves that you’re a real person as you appear to have stepped out of the most heavenly dream

꒰₊˚⊹꒱ your beauty is an encapsulation of the wonders and beauty of the universe. every magnetic aspect, every breathtaking view, every awe-inspiring star filled night sky seem to be compacted not only in your appearance but your general aura and demeanour as well

꒰₊˚⊹꒱ many artists strive to capture your likeness onto canvas as you look as though you stepped out of one of the most perfectly painted renaissance era portraits by an old master; though no matter how perfect of an artist they may be, they can never seem to capture your beauty in a 1:1 ratio as it’s nearly impossible to recreate it

꒰₊˚⊹꒱ you possess a beauty that’s never been seen before, a once in a lifetime beauty that defies any and all standards that could ever exist; the very definition of multidimensional beauty

꒰₊˚⊹꒱ it’s effortless how ethereal you appear, you could be doing the most mundane task there is and yet you still manage to appear with the dreamy grace and hazy beauty of an angel

[muxshwriting]

almost (sweet music)

Bradley Bradshaw x reader

summary: a summer where you and Bradley remind Maverick of Goose and Carole || warnings: literally one swear word, mentions of pregnancy, childbirth (mentioned) || word count: 793 || masterlist

You had Bradley had met at the Hard Deck and hit it off instantly. You were charmed by his carefree attitude and charisma, and he was charmed by your kindness and your heart. Both of you had found the perfect person to spend the rest of their lives with, to be yourselves with. Bradley had never been more sure about anything in his life when he thought about marrying you. Your family loved him and, in turn, the squadron and especially Maverick, loved you.

Maverick viewed Bradley like a son, and was very particular about the girl that had captured his heart. However, the second he saw you, he was pulled in my your very soul, the pureness that was simply you. Bradley was lucky to find someone so well matched for him. There was something else, though. There were moments where Maverick would glance over to you and Bradley and see Goose and Carole staring back at him.

It began the night you and Bradley got engaged and went out to the Hard Deck to celebrate. As all good nights at the Hard Deck do, it ended with Bradley at the piano. Despite being at least eight beers in, he was rather coherent and playing a recognisable tune. Patrons and other people all joined in on the fun, crowding around the piano. You, smiling unabashedly at your man, were standing directly next to Bradley, leaning against the piano, glass in hand as you sang to whatever he was playing. Bradley had reached up, pulling you closer and down onto his lap. He kissed you passionately, laughing with you as he continued to play, choosing to stare lovingly at you instead of what notes he was hitting.

★--~-~--★

Then came your wedding, a beautifully private affair with a few friends and family members from both sides. Your vows were perfect, encapsulating your love for Bradley in a few short words. “Bradley, there are no words to fully describe how I feel about you but I will say this: I’ve never felt as much comfort as I have whenever I hear your name. It’s so bizarre to have a word that can make you feel so much in a second, and I wouldn’t trade that for the world. I love you.”

Maverick was thrown backwards to Goose, drunk on his bachelors night out, leaning against Maverick and rambling about his soon-to-be wife. “She’s like the wind beneath my wings. It’s so weird that her name makes everything feel alright whenever I hear it. God Mav, she’s perfect.”

★--~-~--★

Maverick will never forget the day that Rooster came to him with the amazing news that he would become a Great Uncle. Or a great, Great Uncle as he reminded Bradley. He had had a few beers in the back garden, talking about everything and nothing going on with life. “Gods Maverick, I’m gonna be a dad. That sounds terrifying, a good kind of terrifying but still terrifying.”

Goose had come onto base, a giddy grin plastered onto his face. “Carole’s pregnant. We’re gonna have our own little bird in the nest.” His eyes widened as he sighed. “A kid Mav, a whole entire human. That’s crazy.” He had hugged Goose, giving him his congratulations for him and Carole, wishing them the best for the future. Goose had stayed ecstatic for a week after the news, nothing could bring his mood down. “I’m gonna be a dad!”

★--~-~--★

He had gotten the call from Rooster that you’d gone into labour and that his son had been born (his son!), inviting Maverick down to the hospital to meet his great nephew. He got to hold him in his arms, a newborn baby, so small and innocent. “What did you name him?”

Rooster had smiled proudly, “Nick Bradshaw.”

From the bed you had perked up, taking your baby back when Pete handed him over. “His full name, however, is Nick Mitchell Bradshaw. We had to fit you in somewhere.” Maverick couldn’t stop the tears from springing in his eyes as he tearfully embraced Bradley.

“I’m a dad!” Goose was whisper shouting through the phone to Pete, trying not to wake his sleeping wife. “Do you want to come meet him?” Maverick was there as soon as he could be, bring in flowers for Carole and patting Goose on the back. “Uncle Maverick, meet Bradley Bradshaw.” Goose was standing there, a shit-eating grin on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows and Maverick burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.

Carole swatted at both their arms, telling them to keep it down for the baby. “Don’t make me regret his middle name.”

“His middle name?” Maverick had asked.

Her expression softened as she glanced over at the baby. “Bradley Pete Bradshaw.”

[emocheol]

seventeens pet name for you

seungcheol

baby

loves to be a caretaker so having you be his baby is natural.

he’s always holding you in his arms, almost like he’s trying to protect you from the world and keep you to himself.

when you’re tired you actually get into baby mode and he loves doting on you, knowing that you won’t fight him on it.

“baby, don’t worry i’ll do that for you”

“baby, come give me a kiss”

“baby, i missed you so much”

“baby, you know i’d do anything for you”

jeonghan

angel

sure, he’s the angel of seventeen but you’re his angel.

always says that you were sent from heaven just for him because of how perfect you are, hence an angel.

when he sees a new picture of you he’ll screenshot it and draw a halo over your head and send it back to you with a text that says ‘your halo is shining so bright, my angel’ (love makes him cheesy)

“angel, let’s stay in bed today”

“angel, can you do my hair?”

“angel, i hope you know im obsessed with you”

“angel, you’re the only one for me”

joshua

love

such a classic and gentle name, just like joshua.

he loves you so much the only word that he can think of when it comes to you is love.

if anyone calls him a simp he will gladly own that title because, duh, you’re his partner! of course he’s gonna simp over you!

will do whatever you want at the drop of a hat. he’ll even suggest cancelling his schedules if you want him to stay home, you decline but quite literally have to push him out the door to leave.

“love, come cuddle with me”

“love, i hate every second that i’m away from you”

“love, let’s get matching outfits”

“my love, you’re so perfect”

jun

sweetheart

actually spent a lot of time contemplating what your pet name should be. he didn’t want to get it wrong!

tested way too many names over multiple weeks, seeing if they rolled off the tongue, but none of them did.

finally lands on sweetheart, when he says it for the first time he knows he’s found the perfect name.

now he barely says your name, saying that sweetheart encapsulates your entire being.

“sweetheart, want me to do the dishes?”

“sweetheart, can you read me a story?”

“sweetheart, do you know how much i love you?”

“sweetheart, you’re my favorite person of all time”

soonyoung

honey

soonyoung thinks you’re sweet like honey, so he just has to call you that!

you have the same nickname for him which results in all your friends pretending to gag when you both start calling each other honey. they say it’s sickening, sickeningly sweet

likes to dote on you, would wait on hand and foot if you told him to.

“honey, do you need anything before i leave?”

“honey, i’m home!” (his favorite phrase)

“honey, let’s go on a date tonight”

“honey, you’re the sweetest person in the world”

wonwoo

babe

has always thought that pet names were cringe but when you started calling him every sweet name under the sun he knew he had to come up with one for you.

landed on the classic ‘babe’, he says it flows well, its natural when he’s talking to you now.

doesn’t want anyone else to hear him call you it, so he usually sticks to saying it at home or whispering it to you.

“babe, stay by my side, i don’t want anything happening to you”

“babe, don’t get up yet it’s too early”

“babe, you wanna see my new game?”

“babe, i adore you”

jihoon

baby

another natural caretaker, loves to be the big strong man in the relationship so naturally you’re his baby.

gets salty when you try to dote on him since he knows he should be doing it to you instead.

landed on it because you were pouting once and he said the resemblance to a baby was uncanny.

“baby, you don’t have to stay at the studio with me”

“baby, get some sleep”

“baby, let’s stay in tonight”

“baby, i know i don’t show it as much as i should, but i’m eternally grateful for you”

minghao

darling

claims that their song ‘darling’ is about you to try and make it special (it was just a coincidence but you’ll take it)

says you’re like a sparkling jewel, so perfect, so enchanting, and so darling

always talks to you in the most endearing tone, he can never be mad at you.

“darling, what do you want to have for dinner?”

“darling, let me take a picture of you”

“darling, don’t forget to call me on your break”

“darling, you’re so precious to me”

mingyu

sweetie

loves to bake you desserts and say something like ‘a sweet for my sweetie’.

thinks you’re so sweet and lovely that sweetie is a given name for you.

food is his love language so he’s always making you meals and sweet desserts.

“sweetie, try this new dish i made”

“sweetie, give me a kiss before you go”

“sweetie, give me a bite of that”

“sweetie, you’re it for me”

seokmin

love/lovie

this man is simply obsessed with, so so utterly in love, hence the name love.

everyone swears they can see hearts in his eyes when he looks at you or talks about you.

couldn’t think of a good name for you so he went to his friends being like ‘i’m so in love with them but i can’t think of a pet name! wait… love!’

“lovie, don’t forget about me :(” (you’re just going to work for the day)

“love, do you want to come to karaoke night?”

“lovie, i’m your favorite guy, right?”

“my love~, i wrote this song for you, wanna hear it?”

seungkwan

boo

yes, his nickname for you is his last name. no, it’s not weird! he’ll call you mrs./mr. boo because he can’t wait until you have his last name.

when some calls for ‘boo’ you both turn around, thinking it was for you. this just makes you both laugh and look at each other like you had a little inside secret that no one else understood.

he’ll always say it with literal hearts in his eyes.

“boo, have a good day at work”

“my boo~, i miss you”

“boo, do you want to go have a spa night?”

“my boo~, i love you to the ends of the earth”

vernon

babe

also thinks pet names are cringe so he settled on the most obvious and classic one.

but then actually he starts to like it (to his horror), and starts to call you it all the time.

only ever calls you babe now, and will be salty if you call him by his first or middle name.

“babe, get ready i’m taking you on a date”

“babe, i got you a present you’re gonna love it”

“babe, we should get a cat to be the ring bearer at our wedding”

“babe, you know i love you, right?”

chan

honey

you originally started calling chan ‘honey’ first.

he always got so giddy whenever you said it that he decided he was gonna start calling you that too, to make you feel as special as he did.

thinks it the most special name in the world and if anyone makes fun of it he’ll go to war over it.

“honey, let me show you the new dance i learned”

“honey, did you get a haircut? you look beautiful as ever”

“honey, let’s stay in bed today”

“honey, you’re my everything”

[waterlilychaser]

au where famous singer song writer james potter goes with his band mate sirius to see his brother dance in the new york city ballet. immediately entranced by his dancing, james begs his friend’s brother, one regulus black, to dance in their music video. although regulus haughtily informs him he is “classically trained in ballet technique, potter, not just any common commercial dancer” james is determined to get the boy to dance for him again. all while he’s trying to get regulus to be in the video, he works on writing the perfect song for him to dance to. spending time wearing regulus down, they start to really get to know one another, and the songs start to turn into more of a soundtrack for their budding friendship. they start to get deeper and more heartfelt as james tries to make music that encapsulates regulus as a person rather than just something he can dance to. they start to sound like love songs. when regulus finally gives in to james’s relentless requesting and agrees to dance in the video, james plays him the final song. regulus begins to improv just to see how the song feels to move to. as he absorbs the words and translates them into movement, he realizes every sound and feeling and gesture is saying the same thing. i love you. maybe james was the one who wrote it, but regulus is the one saying it with his whole body. and he realizes he means it. before the song has even ended, regulus stops dancing and walks over to james. sitting wide eyed watching. just as entranced as the first time. and when regulus takes his face in his hands and pulls him up to kiss him, he swears his whole world shakes. like the beat of music or move of a dancer. like the two of them were meant to be just like this.

[hivemuthur]

The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 9.

viktorxfemale!reader explict! (we got there)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12.

word count: 7,2K!

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: spoiler: In the timeline of my writing, this is the first sex scene I've ever written on my own. So, what can I say? This is an imperfect story about imperfect people, but I can assure you it has an eventual happy ending.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

The absolute chaos of Christmas looming spread across the campus like an infectious frenzy. The corridors were decked with the most absurd ornaments the students could scavenge—Santa Claus figurines strung up and dangling upside down from the ceiling of the canteen, Christmas trees adorned with laboratory glassware and angel hair, and a mockery of carols blaring on repeat from the school radio. It was a bizarre fusion of science and art, a perfect encapsulation of the university’s peculiar spirit.

Every student seemed to be racing against time, scrambling to finish their projects and papers before the holidays, determined to return prepared for the looming finals. The labs and library remained open around the clock for anyone desperate enough to study or practise at odd hours.

You and Sue spent every spare moment in the lab classroom, tinkering with projects that needed to be submitted by the semester’s end. Meanwhile, Jayce and Viktor made themselves available to assist and guide anyone who might need their expertise, and the group crossed paths periodically, exchanging polite gestures and jokes to keep up the holiday spirit. Viktor had made a few attempts to talk to you after his mortifying text message, but you did your best to ignore him.

Which made your current situation, to say the least, far from ideal. Sue was rushing you to jot down all the points before she had to dash off and tend to a project for another class. The two of you huffed at each other, frustration starting to take its toll, until you sighed and said, “Sue, how about I finish this, and you go do your thing? I really don’t mind.” You offered your friend a reassuring smile.

Sue hesitated, narrowing her eyes. “Are you sick of me or something?”

“I’m never sick of you,” you said, placing your hand on Sue’s knee and giving it an affectionate squeeze. “I just think this needs a bit more work, and I can see you’re in a hurry. Honestly, I really don’t mind if you don’t.”

“Okay, I admit my mind is elsewhere. Fine,” Sue sighed in mock defeat. “I’ll do something for you in return, I promise.” She started packing up her things and leaned over to place a hand on your shoulder.

“Just get me a cookie or something,” you replied with a tired smile, gently brushing Sue’s hand away. You figured you’d probably finish the work faster on your own, and you were running out of time anyway. The lab was already emptying, darkness had fallen outside, your eyes burned from staring at the chemicals for so long, and you’d had more than enough for one day.

After Sue left, you resumed your work, determined to finish everything in one evening. The promise of rest and the satisfaction of completion fuelled you. You were so focused on jotting down your thoughts that you didn’t notice when Viktor sat beside you and leaned over your notes.

“Do you... need help?�� His voice was unsure, as if he were asking about something else as well.

You hesitated. Help would certainly be welcome, but Viktor’s presence would also make it harder for you to focus. The final equation seemed to balance out the odds. You looked at him—he looked tired yet sharp. He wore the same green jumper he’d had on that night, with a crisp white shirt collar peeking out from underneath it. His scent was fresh and comforting, and his eyes, full of quiet anticipation, were fixed on you as you calculated your decision. You sighed. Yes, you needed help.

“Alright. Shoot me.”

For a split second, Viktor’s face lit up before he leaned in closer. “You’re pretty far along,” he said, his expression thoughtful, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You can dictate, and I’ll translate it into Heimerdinger’s language?”

“That would honestly be perfect,” you admitted, letting out a huff of relief as you turned your attention back to the chaotic scrawl of notes Sue had left behind. Terrible handwriting.

The two of you worked together in near silence, the hum of the lab equipment and the faint scratching of Viktor’s pen the only sounds between you. You found yourself occasionally distracted by the way Viktor’s long fingers moved as he pointed to your results, his low voice guiding you through adjustments. You tried to stay focused, but every now and then, you’d catch yourself glancing at him, his concentration a tether pulling your attention away from your notes.

Viktor, for his part, couldn’t help but steal glances at you. The faint scent of your perfume mixed with the sterile air of the lab, and it made something in his chest feel warm, almost achingly so. He bit his lip nervously whenever he realised he’d been staring too long, forcing his attention back to writing.

It took the two of you longer than either of you had expected, but when you finally wrapped up, the lab was completely empty. You stretched your arms over your head, letting out a soft groan of relief.

“That’s it, then,” you said, your voice tired but satisfied. “Thank you, Viktor. Honestly, I’d still be drowning in that mess if you hadn’t—”

“It’s nothing,” he cut you off gently, placing the pen down and leaning back slightly. He watched as you began gathering your things, clearly ready to leave. But before you could stand, he cleared his throat, his voice softer now. “Hey.”

You paused, looking at him.

“Did you…” He hesitated, the words suddenly harder to push out. He fidgeted with the edge of his notebook. “Did you get my text message?”

Of course, you did. You’d seen his stupid, childish message. The ‘I like you,’ had screamed at you from your phone screen for two weeks now, and you’d both loved it and hated it. Who writes ‘I like you’ like a five-year-old? And not only that, who needs to down an entire bottle of whisky to muster the courage to write ‘I like you’?

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. You hadn’t expected this. You shifted awkwardly in your chair, avoiding his gaze. “I did,” you said finally, your voice measured, careful.

Viktor’s expression remained unreadable, but his hands tightened around the notebook in front of him. “And?”

You let out a breath, your lips pressing into a thin line. “And… if I’m to rely on you saying or doing something from the heart only when you get yourself blind drunk, that wouldn’t be the best choice for your health, Viktor,” your voice was quiet, your eyes fixed on the workbench in front of you. “And I don’t want to be bad for your health.” You offered him a faint smile and looked down again. “If it was from the heart, in the first place.”

His brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded, his gaze dropping to the table. “It was.” It was. And it shamed him deeply that, indeed, he’d needed liquid courage to admit it. Only now did it strike him how awful it must have made you feel. “But I have a… rabbit heart.”

“Am I so terrifying?” you felt mockery twisting itself inside you with anger. Why were you so angry, though? You also had a rabbit heart. You often caught yourself knowing exactly what Viktor was going to say because you used the same words in your history of backing out. Was this the universe having a go at you?

“Yes, you scare the living shit out of me,” he huffed out a shaky laugh, lowering his voice. It was probably the biggest truth he’d told you in all this time.

“Well, this can’t be good for your health either, then, no?” Deflect, deflect, deflect, hide yourself behind that joke. Very well done, you.

“I—” Viktor paused, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “Look, I lied. I’m not good with any setup—casual or not. I—” He stopped himself, his eyes flicking briefly to yours before looking away again. He was torn, visibly at war with his own feelings.

You didn’t want to hear him stumble over words again. “Viktor, I get it. It’s fine. We can still be friends?” You tried to search your mind for what you’d want to hear all those times when you told someone politely the relationship wasn’t working for you.

You thought this was it—an offer of friendship. Most people got hurt or annoyed with you, and it made you feel guilty. So, you tried to say something that wouldn’t make him feel guilty. As soon as you said it, you realised that what you actually wanted was for someone not to let you retreat—but it was too late for that.

Viktor took in a shaky breath, his gaze returning to yours, but he still looked uncertain. “I can’t do that,” he said quietly, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite place. “I can’t be just your friend.” His hands clenched into fists on the table. “I... I’ve tried to be fine with it, but I’m not. I can’t pretend.”

“But I don’t know how to be anything else,” he added after a beat, his mind flicking back to all the times he’d snuck out of someone’s bedroom or when he found himself alone in the morning, in his own cold, sweaty bed. After some time, it became a habit, a quiet indulgence that carried no consequences, and it aligned very well with his main goal: to make his life more than it was meant to be. No distractions, only his goal. Some distractions, but not too many. Only friendships, and here as well, only the stimulating ones. To keep his brain fed, so his soul could starve.

“I have worked… so hard,” he brushed his hand through his hair. “To get where I am. I was meant to fail, and I haven’t failed once. I haven’t failed a single time, aside from some tiny, insignificant stumbles that eventually lead me to answers anyway. So many times I haven’t failed that I don’t think I know how to,” his voice was quiet, as if admitting something shameful. He said it as though any slip-up could cost him everything he’s worked for.

“I… understand,” you said slowly, piecing together the crumbs of information. Viktor didn’t come from a place of love, like you did. He didn’t come from a place of opportunity. He probably had to claw his way through pompous academics who didn’t take him seriously. You understood that part. But what was your part in turning it all to dust—that eluded you. So you didn’t understand, not entirely.

“Do you?” he looked at you longingly, expectantly, and it made your heart ache. What was it that you were supposed to give him now? A promise you would never hurt him? That you would never distract him or drag his mind away from what’s important?

“Viktor, this shouldn’t be so hard, I’m not some mythical creature,” you said, trying to inject a touch of humour into your voice, but it came out thin, brittle.

Viktor’s gaze softened, but the intensity in his eyes remained. He leaned forward slightly, his voice low and steady. “No, you’re not,” he murmured, as if trying to reconcile something inside himself. “But you’re not like anyone else either.”

Your chest tightened at the words, but you quickly pushed it aside, unwilling to let yourself feel vulnerable. You folded your arms across your chest, as if protecting yourself from something you couldn’t name. “I don’t want to be a puzzle for you to solve, Viktor. I don’t want to be some challenge you feel like you need to conquer. That’s not what I’m here for.”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. He wanted to argue, to convince you that it wasn’t about conquest, that it was about something deeper, but he could tell it wasn’t the right time. Not yet. “I don’t… I don’t think of you like that,” he said, his voice almost too soft, as if afraid to break the fragile moment between you. “I think of you as someone I want to understand, someone who...” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence, the words feeling too heavy in the air.

You shifted in your seat, your eyes narrowing slightly as you considered his words. There was a vulnerability in his voice, a quiet sincerity that you weren’t used to hearing. You almost wanted to reach out, to ease the tension that hung between you, but you held yourself back.

There was a long, aching pause between you before Viktor cleared his throat and leaned back, trying to break the silence. “So,” he said, the words coming out in a lighter tone, “how many do-overs do you think we can have?”

You rolled your eyes at him, a small, rueful smile tugging at your lips. “I find myself hoping that each one is the last one,” you replied dryly, though your heart wasn’t fully in the jest. “Thank you for all the help.”

Viktor smiled, a faint, almost self-deprecating chuckle escaping him. “Oh, no worries. I’ll see you at the Christmas party?” he asked, his voice a little uncertain, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d respond.

You nodded, your expression softening just slightly. “Yeah, I’ll be there,” you said, your tone neutral, but not dismissive. “Take care, Viktor.”

With that, you parted ways, the lingering tension still hanging between you, neither fully satisfied with the conversation, but both with the understanding that you were somehow still connected—however uncertain that connection was.

You found an unbearable thought gnawing at you—that in this state, the only ‘do-over’ you could count on was friendship, and Viktor couldn’t afford that. Inevitably, it would end with nothing.

***

It wasn’t exactly a party, but the pub was completely packed with people—students, assistants, and random individuals who wandered around campus, their roles in it a complete mystery. Everything was bathed in the warm glow of Christmas decorations, making the space feel even more cramped.

You sat at a small round table with Sue, some familiar faces scattered around, including Jayce and Viktor, who had joined after their TA duties. Sue was mid-sentence when you leaned back in your chair, your eyes wandering. You weren’t in the mood for all the noise tonight. The words blurred around you as you half-listened, your fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of your glass—a quiet distraction. Viktor was talking to Jayce, his sharp voice cutting through the noise every now and then. His dry wit was always on full display, the kind that kept people around him in that odd mix of awe and wariness.

“You okay?” Sue’s voice brought you back. You blinked, nodding slowly.

“Yeah, just... tired, I guess,” you said, forcing a polite smile as you took a sip of your drink.

The room was hazy with cigarette smoke, the heat becoming unbearable. The whole scene was so unbearably sweet and cozy that it made you flinch. Your eyes kept glancing over to Viktor, who would immediately look away as soon as your gazes met. You kept thinking about what another do-over could look like and felt yourself growing more and more frustrated with the space between you, even though you were sitting so close to each other. You could feel Sue's eyes on you but couldn’t quite explain why you felt this way.

Sue raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Well, if you need to bail early, I totally get it.”

You hesitated, then gave a half shrug. “I think I’ll head out. Just... not feeling it, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Sue replied, offering a quick nod. “See you later?”

“Yeah.” You stood, grabbing your coat from the back of your chair. As you made your way through the maze of tables, you could hear Viktor's voice in the background—just enough to make you pause. You could feel his gaze on you, but you ignored it, focusing instead on the exit.

Viktor watched as you stood and walked away, a wave of frustration rising within him, forming itself into a long sigh. He had tried, hadn’t he? He had said things—things he never said to anyone—but now you were leaving, retreating like always. His jaw tightened, and he felt his fingers curl into fists on the table. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, not after everything. He should’ve known better, but still, your departure stung.

He couldn’t place why, but it felt like you were slipping away just as he was beginning to reach out. You were both so fucking terrible at talking, at letting yourselves feel anything real. Why did it have to be so difficult?

The cold air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, and for a moment, it felt like a relief. The street was quiet, the only sound the crunch of snow beneath your boots. You slid your headphones on and started walking toward the dorms, matching your steps to the rhythm of the song.

You awaited rest and home and being far away from here with utter impatience. Just one more evening of this. Just one more evening of thinking and biting at your own lips, glancing at your phone, and then it would only be your parents, and Hale, and the quiet evenings at Sheffield, for a week.

Against reason, Viktor followed you, his footsteps soft but steady as he stepped out of the pub moments later. His eyes caught sight of your retreating figure, and a small, amused smile played at the corner of his lips. He’d almost not been surprised—almost expected it.

He called out your name, his voice lost to the wind and muffled by the sounds of the night. But you didn’t hear him. Quickening his pace, his breath misted in the cold air. He called again, louder this time, but still, you didn’t turn.

A small part of him considered letting you go, letting you stew in your thoughts, just leaving it for after the break. But the rest of him felt pulled, like a dog on a leash in front of a vet’s door.

You were nearing the entrance to the dorms when you finally paused, taking a deep breath, and tugging your headphones off with a slight wince. The moment you heard your name, you froze, your heart skipping in your chest.

“Hey you!” Viktor’s voice was closer now, cutting through the night. When you turned, you saw him standing at the edge of the walkway, just outside the dorm. His breath came in visible puffs, his chest heaving as if he’d run after you.

“You walk... so fucking fast,” he said, still catching his breath. “I never figured you for the type to run off so bluntly. But I suppose that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?” Yes, just laugh it out. Viktor took a few steps forward, leaning heavily on his cane.

“Are you fucking drunk again?” you blinked, your mind racing. You had to admit to yourself that Viktor drunkenly following you from the bar was a coin toss you wouldn’t have bet on. Especially after your last talk. Funny.

“Are you not?” he countered, his words smoother than you expected.

“No. Go back to your pub, Viktor.” Your voice was flat now, each word carefully measured. You exhaled sharply, your shoulders sinking as if the weight of the evening had finally caught up with you. You were so tired of this.

Viktor tilted his head, his smile barely visible in the shadows as he took a step closer. “Eh, make me,” he said softly, though it wasn’t a challenge—not really.

Another step.

“I am so not in the mood for you now,” you muttered, your hands dropping limply by your sides as you turned away, dragging yourself down the corridor toward the elevators. Your voice lacked its usual bite, tinged instead with exhaustion.

“Alright, alright, I’m not drunk, just had one pint. Oh, come on,” Viktor mock-pleaded, his cane tapping lightly against the floor as he quickened his pace to catch up with you. “You won’t see me the entire holiday break.”

“And I will savour every single day of this glorious relief from your constant nagging, poking, your sweet side and your dick side, and having fun at my expense,” you snapped, jabbing the elevator button with increasing impatience, your words punctuated by each press.

You were expecting another joke, but Viktor’s hands gripped your waist firmly, twisting you around. Your breath caught as he pulled you flush against him, the heat of his body sharp against the cold you’d carried in from outside.

“Shut up,” he breathed, his voice raw and ragged as his lips found yours. The kiss was unsteady, heated, and messy, tasting faintly of sweet beer and a frustration that mirrored your own. He panted into your mouth, his lips parting just enough to nip at yours.

“Just… shut up, for once,” he murmured, crowding you against the elevator door. It slid open behind you with a soft chime, and you stumbled inside, Viktor’s cane clattering to the floor as he steadied you against the wall. He pulled your turtleneck down to lick your neck greedily over the bite mark he had left there. His hands quickly found their way under your sweater, and he gasped, bemused by your lack of underwear. “No bra?” Again. A low chuckle rumbled against your skin. “Is that your idea of a Christmas present?”

“Fuck off,” you scoffed, your voice still sharp with lingering anger. Your hands pressed against his chest in an attempt to push him away, but the lack of real force and your hands still gripping his coat tightly betrayed you.

“Are you sure?” Viktor smirked, his grip firm as he tilted your chin up, pressing a lingering, deceptively sweet kiss to your lips. “This is your floor,” he said, his voice agonizingly calm as he stepped back, gesturing toward the elevator doors sliding open.

“Or…” His tone shifted, almost teasing, as he pressed the button to close the doors and send them up to his floor instead. “You could come with me. For real, this time.”

You pulled him wordlessly toward you, offering no resistance—nothing more, nothing less. Words had failed you, but your actions were clear. It was enough. Viktor wanted to say, That’s what I thought, the words teasing the edge of his tongue, but he held them back. Instead, he captured your lips again, kissing frantically. He explored your mouth, swallowing the small sounds you made, the elevator a blur as it carried you upward.

By the time you reached his room, Viktor managed to open the door without breaking the kiss, his cane hanging hooked over his arm. You stumbled inside together, the heat between you growing unbearable, and he pressed you firmly against the door, his hands bracing your hips as his lips moved over yours with unrelenting zeal. You pulled him closer, your breath catching as you managed to rasp, “Bed?”

Viktor chuckled softly against your lips; his tone laced with teasing. “Impatient, are we?” But there was no mistaking the heat in his gaze, the way his hands tightened on your hips as he broke the kiss just long enough to guide you further into the room.

“Fuck you,” you muttered, your voice raw as your fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him with you.

“Yes. Please, fuck me,” Viktor murmured, sweeping you into another fervent kiss as you stumbled toward the bed. “I’m so tired of you not fucking me.”

You scoffed into his mouth. And who is to blame for that? You sunk into the mattress, pulling Viktor with you by his belt, the cane poking your leg.

“Why are you wearing so many clothes?” he whined, his voice laced with frustration as his clumsy hands fumbled with your coat. His hasty movements betrayed him, and in the rush, his knee accidentally pressed against your arm.

“Ow!” you winced, your sharp tone softening as you glanced at his face. The irritation melted away when you saw the unabashed eagerness in his expression, the way his brow furrowed in determination despite his lack of grace. “Is this going to be painful?” you asked, your lips quirking in a faint, teasing smile, though your voice still held a trace of genuine concern.

Viktor froze, blinking down at you like a scolded child. “Only if you want it to be,” he muttered, a sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he leaned back to regroup. His fingers moved more carefully now, peeling the coat off from underneath you with exaggerated precision. “Better?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Viktor granted you a low chuckle, his lips quirking in that familiar, lopsided smirk. “Ridiculous, perhaps, but effective,” he murmured as he continued with his careful work, peeling away the layers of your clothing like unwrapping a particularly stubborn present.

His own clothes, however, didn’t receive the same treatment. He shed them with reckless abandon, tossing each piece into an ever-growing messy pile near the bed, his leg brace a crown on top of it. His cane clattered softly to the floor as he leaned back for balance, the faintest flush spreading across his cheeks.

Once you were both were bare, he ran his palms gently along your sides and pressed his face to your hip, your belly, your neck, inhaling your skin. “God, you are so infuriating,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your body.

He glued himself to you, his hands roaming wherever they could reach, as if this were the moment he’d been waiting to happen for the longest time. And it was, of course. The decision to toss everything aside and just jump in might have been reckless, but he had no capacity to decide otherwise.

“Infuriating?” you laughed, feigning offense. “Is that the way you treat all of your conquests? Make them follow you around by the nose for months, until your resolve finally breaks after one pint?”

“No, only you,” he replied smoothly, his lips brushing against your collarbone. He added with a sly smirk, “It’s my love language with you.”

“Love?” you repeated, voice laced with teasing incredulity, but the hesitation in your tone betrayed how the word caught you off guard.

“Shut up,” Viktor muttered, his hand gliding up your side as he kissed you, silencing your laughter before you could push further. “Attraction,” he murmured against your neck, his lips pressing a lingering kiss there. “Want,” he added, his teeth grazing your breast, earning a sharp gasp from your mouth. “Admiration,” he said, coming back up to meet your eyes and give you a slow, steady kiss. He took your fingers into his mouth and watched your eyes flutter shut, your lips parting.

His voice dipped lower, teasing, and dangerous. “Anyway, is that not what we have been doing?” His hands explored the meat of your ass with a firm grip, his touch both intoxicating and commanding as he pressed himself flush against your core. He shifted against you with a kind of intimacy that had your breath hitching.

“Have you not been loving me all this time?” His words, soft and taunting, carried a heat that matched the tension thrumming between you. His hand moved down between your thighs to scoop your wetness and lick it off his fingers, as he made sure you were watching. “Ah, it seems,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, “you’ve been loving me back all along.”

You trembled under him, your breath catching as your hands gripped his shoulders. A quiet plea escaped your lips, barely audible but filled with vulnerability. “Don’t be mean, Viktor.”

For a moment, he stilled, his expression softening as he pulled back to look at you. His golden eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, held a flicker of something warmer, deeper. “Mean?” he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “No. Not with you.”

The teasing edge in his voice melted away as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, slow and deliberate, as though trying to convey what words couldn’t. He was so bad at talking if you thought he was being mean. His hands cradled your face, and his next words came as a low promise against your skin. “I could never be mean to you.”

You huffed softly, a half-laugh escaping you as memories of all the times he’d actually been mean flitted through your mind. “Liar,” you muttered against his lips, though there was no venom in your tone. Instead, you kissed him back longingly, your fingers threading into his hair as your thighs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer.

Viktor exhaled a shaky breath, his control fraying under your touch. “Perhaps,” he admitted with a faint, self-deprecating smile, his forehead resting against yours for a moment. “But you give as good as you get, don’t you?” he said playfully, reaching over to pull a condom out of his bedside drawer and put it on swiftly. Then, he grabbed a spare pillow to prop his leg. His belly was tied into a knot, teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure, as he placed one hand between where your bodies were going to meet to align himself at the entrance.

He studied your face, as if to check if there was any resistance left. But you only looked at him with wide eyes, your hands fisting the bed sheet. He swept through his body in a final calculation of what could go wrong—he wasn’t drunk, that was a good start. His leg, eh, not perfect, but he should be able to pull this off. Did he want to love you or tease you? He had forgotten which one it was. A shuddery breath escaped him when your bodies finally connected—he entered you slowly, holding back to lay on top of you.

The first thrust was so deliberate, so slow, so overwhelming that you both moaned into each other's mouths. Your brows tied themselves together, your palms stiff in hesitation over his shoulders, as the feeling of relief surged through you. A relief of finally not being empty.

The only movement Viktor allowed himself was the roll of his hips as he sunk inside you, beat after beat. His arms caged you in, one of his hands gripping your shoulder, the other cradling the base of your skull, as he kept your faces close so he could study you, watch you. He stared at you obscenely, taking in your expressions, disbelief wrenching breath out of his lungs. You really wanted him. You were holding him in a vacuous trap, making it hard to pull out and push back in.

And this wasn’t new. People wanted him, he knew that. They wanted him for this—for a fun fuck—and when they continued to want him afterward, it felt like a fluke. So he shut it down. And it made him feel powerful. No, it made him feel weak. It made his weakness powerful. It gave him the power to disappear from it, from himself, to not be present.

The fact that he was present now, attentive, was rather new for him. Not entirely—he’d had a glimpse of what it could be that night when you were high together, but he hadn’t dared breach the boundary of clothing then. This, though, was entirely different. He watched you so carefully, studying every reaction to his touch. He pushed where you gasped and retreated where you winced. Your kisses were as hungry as his, and it made him feel so full. The fuck was more than fun. It made him feel powerful in a way that didn’t make him feel weak.

He tightened his grip, his forehead resting on yours as he buried himself deep inside, thrust after thrust. His mouth open against you, breathing in every gasp, every whimper you were willing to give him. His pace was even, unwavering, as he murmured against your lips, “You’ve been giving me so much grief.”

He locked eyes with you, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze as he added, “But it really feels like you’ve been loving me back. Haven’t you?” His voice was soft, as though waiting for you to answer not just with words, but with the quiet truth in your eyes.

You slid your fingers into his hair, pulling him in for another desperate kiss, and Viktor caught a faint, barely audible ‘yes,’ offered to drown deep in his throat, traveling straight to his heart, as if you were offering him a secret you hadn’t meant to give away. The sound stirred something deep within him, and as you arched against him, your breath catching, he deepened the kiss and quickened his pace. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, murmuring quiet praises, each word filled with reverence as you moved together toward completion.

He slid one hand to the nape of your neck, another snaked itself between your bodies, his fingers parting you as he whispered softly, “Oh, my girl.” Your eyes fluttered shut, arms wrapping around his shoulders and you muffled your own moan against his mouth, lips and noses brushing against each other. He rubbed lazy circles on your clit, a smile blooming on his face when he felt your back arching beneath him, hips pressing upward to meet his, your cunt clenching around his cock in a tight, needy hug.

He felt your thighs squeezing his hips, your walls fluttering, pulling him deeper inside you, with you. You dug your nails into his shoulders, lips parted pressed against his, foreheads pressed together mingling droplets of sweat into one.

You felt a sudden urge to say, “Thank you,” distorted by a loud moan as you came on his cock, on his fingers, your body tensing up and bending to the sound of his name falling from her lips. It took a long time, and you thought it would never stop, your climax blinding, contorting your body around him with a force to bend and crush.

Viktor’s mind got invaded by a thought of how great it felt to make a girl such as yourself lose control over her own muscles. How it had made him grow taller and bigger, his heart swollen with your grace, his lips bruised from your teeth. Slowly, he worked you through each spasm, and when you were ready, he retreated his hand to wrap both arms around you and buried his face in your neck. His breathing jagged, teeth sinking into your shoulder to not say too much at the sudden tightness around his cock.

His rhythm began to stutter, movements growing urgent by the minute as he buried himself within you up to the hilt. His breath was uneven, his muscles flexing and twisting. He felt your core hugging his cock so tight, he couldn’t hold back his own panting, as if he were a teenager all over again. He moved his face to brush against yours, whispered your name again, voice trembling, and he came with one thick, everlasting pang, whimpering weakly into your mouth.

His body melted into yours with a long, contented sigh, his arms wrapped tightly around you, stomachs and chests pressed, rising and falling together. You stayed like that in silence for a few moments, not moving, just touching, just breathing, just being.

Finally, Viktor rolled you both to the side, his leg hooked over your hip, fingers threading through your hair, and gave you an almost solemn look.

“What is this face?” you asked softly, cupping his cheek and brushing your thumb across his lip.

He sucked on it slowly, not breaking eye contact. “I never thought you would be so…” His voice trailed off for a moment, and just as you braced yourself for another joke, he finished, “wonderful.”

You managed only to whisper a quiet “Viktor—,” your grip tightening around him as the weight of this little praise crushed you. As his eyes crushed you, his warmth crushed you, as you crushed yourself with everything you wanted to say but couldn’t.

Viktor pulled back just a few inches, his gaze searching yours. “Are you going away for Christmas tomorrow?” he asked, his voice soft, almost tentative. Normal.

You nodded slowly, your fingers still tangled in his hair as you answered, “Yeah.”

“Will you stay?” Please, stay. Please don’t have me wake up alone tomorrow. A weakness crept back in.

You nodded against his neck. A quiet breath escaped Viktor’s lips as he leaned in to kiss your forehead, pulling you back against him. He sighed softly, the sound almost like a weight lifting. He didn’t speak for a few moments, just holding you as if afraid you might disappear if he let go.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice quieter now. “I have no idea how I’m going to explain my absence to Sue though.”

Viktor’s lips curled into a playful smirk, and he raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, his voice teasing. “I’ll just tell her you got really into the holiday spirit and had to spend the night with your favourite TA.”

You chuckled softly, the tension between you easing just a little. “I’m sure she’ll believe that,” you replied, though the words felt lighter now, softer.

Viktor’s expression shifted to one of mock seriousness as he pulled you a little closer. “But tomorrow, when the morning comes,” he said, his voice lowering slightly, “I’ll have to call it in. You caught me drunk, used me for your advantage,” he paused, his eyes glinting with mischief, “and I’ll make sure everyone knows it.”

You let out a small laugh, your face flushing slightly at the absurdity of the situation. “Selling me out already, I see how this will go,” you said, teasing him back. “I’m sure you won’t mind telling them how you practically begged me to stay the night and cuddle you.”

Viktor smiled, but his eyes softened. “I won’t,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your temple again, holding you in the quiet aftermath. The moment felt almost unreal—so intimate, so fragile—and yet, there you were. He wouldn’t dare break it by asking for more. And even though Viktor’s chest was still swollen with fear, his mind drifted to sleep in your arms.

Your own mind, however, was restless. As the high of your connection faded, you woke up early, your thoughts gnawing at you. Viktor was fast asleep, his expression so peaceful that you couldn’t believe he had a bad bone in his body. Yet, you had been stabbed so many times. It wasn’t real, was it? It couldn’t be over, just like that. What if he was right, and you weren’t meant to share the awkwardness of the morning? What if he tried to shrug it off once he woke up? Would you survive if he did?

No. You wouldn’t.

Cursing yourself, you slid out of bed, put your clothes back on, and gave Viktor, who was sleeping soundly, one last glance that tore through your soul. And left.

***

The morning light crept through the gaps in the blinds, painting pale stripes across the sheets. Viktor stirred, his body heavy and warm, though there was an odd hollowness in the bed. He reached out instinctively, the fog of sleep not yet cleared, his fingers brushing against nothing but the cold fabric of the mattress. His eyes blinked open.

The room was silent.

He sat up slowly, scanning the space, the sense of emptiness clawing at him as the realisation began to take shape. You were gone.

The sheets beside him were rumpled, but the space was cold, long abandoned. For a moment, he stared at the spot you’d occupied, trying to convince himself you might still be here. Perhaps you were in the bathroom, or in his tiny kitchen searching for tea—but no sound of movement met his ears.

A chill crept through his chest, spreading outwards, a tight knot forming in his stomach. You left.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his movements clumsy, hurried, his leg straining without the brace. There had to be something—a note, a message, anything that might explain. The bedside table was empty. The dresser? Nothing. Viktor opened a drawer, then another, rifling through with increasing desperation, though he knew even as he searched how ridiculous it was. You wouldn’t leave a note in a drawer.

His gaze snapped to his phone. He lunged for it, unlocking the screen with trembling fingers. Nothing. No missed calls. No texts.

He stood there in the middle of the room, staring at the empty screen. His chest tightened, his breaths coming faster, each one shallower than the last. Of course.

What had he been thinking? That after all his fumbling, after all his glaring flaws, you would stay? That someone like you, bright and untamed, would want someone like him—a man who could barely navigate his own feelings without tripping over them?

Right. His fingers clenched around the phone, the pressure digging into his palm. How stupid. How painfully, pathetically stupid. How weak.

He sank back onto the bed, his head in his hands. The weight of the silence pressed down on him. Every echo in the room seemed to mock him. The bed felt too big now, the walls closing in too fast. His mind replayed your smile, your laugh, the warmth in your eyes last night, and it made his chest ache. How could you think you’d earned something like this?

And yet, beneath the sinking despair, anger simmered. At himself. At you. At the cruel absurdity of it all. You’d kissed him, held him, and for a brief moment, he’d thought you were standing on equal ground. But the truth was stark now, laid bare in her absence: you’d left. Or maybe that was an equal ground, after all. Now, you were truly even.

A sharp knock at the door jolted him from his spiralling thoughts. He didn’t answer immediately, hoping whoever it was would go away, but the knock came again, louder this time.

“Viktor?” Jayce’s familiar voice called from the other side. “You ready? We’ve got to leave in half an hour, mate.”

Viktor swallowed hard; his throat dry. His hands slowly dropped from his face as he stared at the door. Jayce’s voice was too cheerful, too ordinary, too far removed from the storm brewing inside him. He wanted to shout at him, to tell him to go away, but the words wouldn’t come.

“I’ll be ready,” he croaked after a pause, his voice hoarse and thin.

There was silence on the other side of the door for a moment, then the sound of Jayce’s footsteps retreating down the hall. Viktor exhaled shakily, his gaze drifting back to the rumpled sheets beside him. Forcing himself to move, he stood and began to gather his things. Each motion felt mechanical, hollow. The knot in his chest didn’t loosen, but he pushed it down, swallowing it whole. It was almost Christmas. He had to pretend. At least for a little while longer.

[divine-crows]

🎨✨️Art Magic✨️🎨

Uses, Forms of it, and Why I Think Everyone Should Try it at Least Once.

Foreword

Right before the COVID-19 pandemic hit, I had been trying and failing to rekindle my flame for magic work. No matter what I tried to do I just couldn't get back into my studies and I was reaching a point where I was convinced I lost my spark and was doomed to live an empty life. Then it all changed when a YouTube Channel challenged how I thought about everything: Molly Roberts. That's when I was opened to the possibility of art magic, and I'll now share my love of it with anyone willing to read on.

What Is Art Magic?

A means to utilize art for spellwork, raising magical energy, or for exploring your magical subconscious. It encapsulates multiple different types of art and is generally not confined by conventional expectation (unless that's what you prefer).

You can utilize art magic by. . .

Using traditional art methods

Digital art methods

Collages

Music composition

Jewelry making

Embroidery

And much more!

How do I know if Art Magic is Suitable for Me?

There isn't a specific thing that'll indicate this form of magic is perfect for you, however I have some anecdotes from my personal experience as both a witch, and a regular artist that form a sort of idea on what could denote this being perfect for you!

First off, craving freedom from personal restraints was a big factor that pushed me towards blending my craft with my passion for art. If you want to run from the monotony of life, if you feel trapped by the social construction of boxes, or if you simply want to challenge your own mental restraints... then this idea might resonate with you.

Challenging yourself with a new form of magic, similarly, can also be a good enough reason to try. I'm the type of person who loves to constantly learn new things and I unfortunately get bored really quickly if I can't get new source materials. Using Art Magic has proven a fun challenge for me that allows me to explore a lot more topics you can't just open a book to find.

For those that may not be able to safely perform a lot of traditional style spells, this form of magic provides a discreet way to practice witchcraft. Most people wouldn't really question someone if they picked up the hobby of making art, and even if they did there's plenty of reasonable excuses out there.

How you prefer your spells to manifest themselves can also affect if this journey is a good idea or not. I find that Art Magic is really good when it comes to subtle spellwork that is more longform (though depending on how you construct them you can definitely create a spell that's the opposite).

Catalog aspects of your magical journey. Imagine a grimoire filled with pages of drawings, each one telling a story of something you experienced or learned as a witch. This especially may be more beneficial for visual learners.

You could use it as a means of meditation, sometimes art can be calming and it can open the door to your mind (so-to-speak). Especially if you're like me and struggle with staying completely still while trying to clear your mind, this may be helpful for you.

Trying to better understand archetypes, deities, types of entities, or even your own self can also be a big part of this. I've used art magic as a way to embody the "energy" of something before so I could better understand it. Especially when you're trying to seek knowledge that isn't often written on, it can provide a great way to explore more.

How Can I perform an Art Spell?

I have a step-by-step process that can give you some insight on how you may approach it:

1) Think of the intention you want. I like to close my eyes and meditate on it for about a minute then I write down if my mind wandered to any specific imagery or ideas.

2) Think of visual symbolism and colors that can help you capture the mood you want. Perhaps you need a warm color palette to invoke positive feelings, or maybe there are specific objects or animals you can include on the composition that represent something.

3) If you feel it fits your composition, you can include sigils, symbols of significance, and include shapes that have certain associations. It doesn't even have to be obvious either. You can use a circular composition to convey something endless for example, or a triangular composition to show priority over something.

4) In general follow what your heart tells you. This is a little cliche, but ultimately follow what seems best to you. Art isn't about boxing yourself in and my guidelines are just general ideas for anyone who's lost!

Why do I think that everyone should try it at least once?

From my experiences as a witch, I find that a lot of paths to be followed are quite rigid. By no means am I implying that a rigid structure is bad-- it creates a foundation from which we can work upon. I myself am exploring rigid, 'traditional' (for lack of a better term) ways of working magic. Art magic pushes you out of your comfort zone in a safe way. It makes you consider how you associate things. It makes you create new sigils and makes you research new symbols you previously wouldn't have used.

So next time you're lost on a spell, or you've lost your way in your Craft and you don't know what to do, think about maybe giving Art Magic a try. I hope my guide was a helpful starting point for anyone interested in the topic!

[toruro]

— ✧ angel

pt.2

pairing: kim mingyu x reader

description. in which you’re mingyu’s girlfriend, so sweet and innocent that he can’t help but ruin you.

tags. smut (18+), boyfriend!mingyu, corruption kink, loss of virginity, size kink, bulge kink, dacryphilia, pure filth honestly, but also kinda fluffy w/c. 1.8k

"angel," your boyfriend coos, lifting his head from between your legs as you lean back into the soft cushions of his bed. your eyebrows are pinched together, eyes shut tight as you try to steady your erratic breaths. "angel," he murmurs more intensely again.

the finger that's on your clit has ceased the circular movements that drove you into your first orgasm, and now are being traced down into your soaked folds. you twitch at the feeling, pussy still oozing with your cum and and mingyu's saliva, the two mixing into hot and filthy and dripping mess that has mingyu's brain circuits rewiring.

"m-mingyu," you manage to say meekly, finally opening your eyes to look down at your boyfriend who seems encapsulated by the fluttering petals of your cunt.

"you taste so good baby," mingyu praises, pushing himself up, bare upper body muscles flexing as he does so, crawling up and sliding his tongue into your mouth. you taste yourself against him, moaning at the way his arms cage around you, holding you down. "can't believe i'm the only person who ever gets to taste you," he mutters, pulling away.

your cheeks burn at the words—yeah, he just ate you out like you were the last meal he'd ever have, but having him say such stuff is embarrassing and...it's turning you on. "only yours, gyu," you affirm, reaching up to hold one of his hands.

mingyu watches the way you squirm at his dirty words, grinning because yeah you're his sweet, innocent girl, and yeah he's gonna fuck you silly until you can't think about anything but him.

the way your fingers lace with his remind him that you're here with him and that he's gonna do everything and anything to make sure that after tonight, you're never even going to think about wanting anyone else—he already knows your heart belongs to him (as does his to you), but somethings need to be fucked into you for good measures, right?

"you think you're ready, angel?" mingyu asks, and the look in his eyes is so sincere you forget about how you know he's going to pounce once you give him the green light. he's already slipping off his boxers and fuck, his cock springing free—you've seen it before (had it in your mouth two nights before when mingyu taught you how to give a blowjob) but now, this is different. you shudder at the thought of something so long, so thick, so perfect inside of you. all you can manage in response to him is a dumb nod of your head, eyes zoning in on his length as you feel heat pool at your core.

"i need words, baby," mingyu says sternly, directing your gaze back towards his face.

"yeah gyu, 'm ready," you agree quickly, hooking your arms under your knees so you can pull them up next to your chest, your pretty pussy all swollen and sticky displayed in front of him.

"fuck," he hisses when he sees your eyes glossy and lips puffy, shuffling forward as he sits up on his knees, he guides his cock between your legs, wasting no time to slide it between your folds. you let out a small squeak at the sound and fuck mingyu thinks he can cum from that sound alone.

you're just so cute and so sweet and so in love with him and the thought that he's going to be the first and the only one to experience this with you has his mind racing.

he covers his length in your wetness for a few moments and then he's slipping the tip upwards so it nudges against your clit. the stimulation has you jerking a little on the bed, and mingyu chuckles at your reaction. "so fucking cute," he mumbles, before you furrow your eyebrows and glance down at what he's doing.

when the realization dawns on you, your eyes almost roll to the back of your head.

mingyu's sliding his length past your clit and up your stomach so far that his balls press against your core.

he's sizing you up.

he's trying to see just how far in he's going to be, just how deep he's going to fuck you, and by the looks of it, it's gonna be pretty fucking deep. mingyu lets out a breathy laugh, and you find yourself growing more and more desperate by the second. "gyu, please," you beg, shifting your hips so he can get the message. "wanna feel you so bad."

"me too angel, me too," he tells you, still staring down at the way his cock is so big it's reaching your stomach. your hand is still intertwined with his, and he brings it up next to your head so it's pinned down. "tell me if you want to stop, yeah? promise you'll tell me?"

"i promise." mingyu shifts above you after your words, and then you feel his his arm tip prod against your sopping cunt and that's when you know it's coming.

you suck in a breath when he pushes in, and even with the prep from his fingers and his tongue, mingyu feels so big and so full inside of you. "oh my god," you gasp as he pushes in further, looking up at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

kim mingyu is looking down at you with nothing less than pure adoration and absolute hunger.

your walls are hugging him so tight and you're so warm and—god he can't take this anymore—you're looking up at him with your mouth slightly open with small, breathy moans escaping your lips, and then there's those tears slipping from the corners of your eyes and an odd sense of pride fills his body.

he continues to sink his length into you, murmurings words of praise like, "you're doing so good baby," or, "just a little more angel, you can do it," and, "that's a good girl, my good girl," finally stilling once he's bottomed out.

your legs are shaking around his torso and mingyu massages the flesh of your thighs as he kisses you softly, doing his best to dull the ache that resides in your lower half.

"you feel so big—feel so full gyu," you moan absentmindedly after he pulls his lips away, and mingyu has to collect all the self control he's ever had to not snap his hips back and pound right into you. he lets out a heavy breath, dropping his head down so your foreheads can touch.

"god—fuck—you can't say shit like that," mingyu warns, and the way your eyes flicker up toward his all sparkly and innocent has his mouth running on a mind of its own. "i'm going to ruin you."

the way you squeeze him like a vise after his statement has mingyu groaning, rocking his hips into yours, a strangled moan escaping your lips. for a second, mingyu is scared that he's crossed a limit, but when he looks down at the drool that's dribbling down your chin and feels your fingers dig into the hard muscle of his back, he thinks otherwise.

"m-more," you manage out, swiveling your hips upwards so you chase more the feeling of mingyu's cock inside of you.

"angel, are you su—"

"you said you wanted to ruin me, right?" you beg desperately. "right gyu? so can you? please?" your voice is so raw and mingyu knows that he promised to fuck you silly, but it feels like he's the one who might just get lost in pleasure.

he wastes no time dragging his full length out of you, giving you less than a second's break before plunging his cock back in. your back arches off the mattress, chest pushing impossibly close to his as he grapples at your thigh, fucking you harder after every thrust.

your pussy is on fire in the best way possible—you've never felt so full before, and suddenly you're left wondering if you're ever going to be able to go on without having mingyu's cock buried deep inside of you.

squelching of your pussy's fluids echos through the room, in harmony with the slap of mingyu's skin against yours every time he sinks back into you. his length is pressing up, so massive inside of you, that you can feel every curve, every vein, and the intimacy of this all already has that hot, familiar knot bubbling up in your core.

"oh my god," you gasp, throwing your head back as mingyu adjusts his hips, hitting a new spot inside of you that has your nails pressing hard into the skin of his back. "oh my—fuck, mingyu!" you cry out as he leans up a little, moving his hands from yours and gripping your hips.

he's pulling your body into his with every snap of his hips, and the way your babbling on and on about how good, how full, how amazing this all feels—mingyu feels his own orgasm bubble up at the thought that he was somehow able to make his perfect girlfriend even more insatiable.

with his head lifted further away from you now, mingyu is able to glance over the full form of your body, and that's when he sees it. the sight has him stilling his movements, and through your cries, you look up at him with confusion. he reaches over, grabbing your hand and placing it on you stomach, and you instinctively run your palm over your lower belly until you feel it.

your head shoots up to look at it and there it is—the outline of mingyu's cock prodding against your stomach and all that's racing through your mind is 'mingyu, mingyu, mingyu.'

and then he's spilling out dirty words of his own as he pulls back and continues to the fuck into you, the imprint of his length disappearing and appearing every few moments when he thrusts back into, just as hard, just as deep as the one before.

"what a fucking angel," he grunts, "making room for my cock—fuck you're sucking me in," he moans as you clench around him, the coil that sizzles inside of you threatening to snap. "are you gonna cum baby? do it, fucking drench me angel."

and then you let go.

thrashing in his hold, you ride out your orgasm with fluttering walls and high pitches moans as mingyu fucks you through it, the sight of you reaching your end throwing him off his own. the feeling of hot, sticky cum shooting inside your fucked through cunt has you moaning, "mingyu! mingyu!"

hearing the way you call out his name, mingyu, in his post-orgasmic state, smiles to himself, watching you come down from your second high of the night.

in that moment, with your tear stained cheeks, limp limbs, and swollen pussy, mingyu knows that you were made just for him, and he would fuck you a million times over and more if it meant having you by his side.

a/n. hope u liked it! please leave likes/comments and reblog! pt.2 is right here!

[cece693]

It's All For You (Jay Gatsby x GN! Reader)

Fun fact, one of my favorite books is The Great Gatsby. However, to this day, no one (in my opinion) has managed to fully encase what Jay represents. Character-wise, he's still the Gatsby chasing the green light, but in terms of face claim, I left him ambiguous. I know this is a very out-there fandom, and I know it won't be very popular, but it makes me happy :)

Summary: You were helping Jay see your cousin Daisy, but, somewhere down the line, you managed to become his anchor to reality.

tags: can be read with Nick in mind, Jay is an infatuated boy, clueless reader, Jay finally sees Daisy for what she is, happy ending

Daisy was enchanting. Captivating. Alluring. But none of those words seemed to fully encapsulate the aura she exuded. There was a lightness to her that drew people in, a kind of graceful detachment as if she floated through life just out of reach. Yet for all her beauty and charm, there was something elusive about her, something that kept everyone at arm's length. It was easy to be enchanted by her, to fall for the sparkling facade she wore like a second skin. And Jay Gatsby was no different—at least, that’s what I thought.

Gatsby had built a life around the idea of Daisy, a world spun from dreams and memories of a love long lost. The parties, the lavish displays, the rumors—they all pointed back to her, to the one he had let slip away. When I came to West Egg, I found myself pulled into his grand scheme to win her back. Daisy had asked for my help; I was her cousin, after all, and who better to act as a go-between, arranging encounters, helping to stage those first delicate meetings under the guise of friendly visits?

At first, Gatsby's devotion to Daisy seemed unwavering, as though he was single-mindedly determined to recapture the past. He spoke of her with reverence, like a man describing a distant star, bright and unattainable. He watched for her at every gathering, always positioned just so, as though one look from her would make all the years melt away. I helped him prepare for these moments, choosing the flowers, setting the table for tea, ensuring everything was perfect. He wanted it all to be just right for Daisy.

But as time went on, I noticed something I couldn’t quite name. The way Gatsby's gaze would flicker toward me in moments of quiet, how he would seek my approval on even the smallest details. There was a certain light in his eyes when we would linger in conversation long after the parties had ended and the rest of the world had gone to sleep. I chalked it up to Gatsby’s natural charm, to the friendship that had grown between us amid all the scheming. After all, I was helping my cousin's lost love find his way back to her.

The first real crack in the illusion came one afternoon when Gatsby and I were alone in his library, discussing the next gathering. Daisy had mentioned that she missed simpler times, the quietness of tea on a summer's day. I suggested we hold a small, intimate tea party just for the three of us, something more personal than the grand festivities that had become Gatsby's signature.

“It’s a wonderful idea,” Gatsby agreed, his voice softening as he looked at me, not in the direction of the distant green light that always seemed to capture his attention. “But it doesn’t feel right to ask so much of you, helping with all this.”

I waved off his concern. “Nonsense. I’m happy to help. If it makes Daisy smile, then it’s worth it.”

He gave a small, almost wistful smile. “I suppose it’s not just Daisy who I’m trying to make smile.”

I didn’t know what to make of that comment. I let it slide, laughing it off as a joke, but something about the way he said it stayed with me. There was a warmth in his tone that I couldn’t quite place, and in the days that followed, I began to see Gatsby in a different light.

The tea party came and went, with Daisy laughing and charming her way through the afternoon. Gatsby’s attention was on her, of course, but there was a shift, a subtle one, like a shadow moving across a wall. I found Gatsby watching me out of the corner of his eye, a lingering glance that held more than casual interest. It was as though he was trying to tell me something without words.

And then, one night, as the last strains of music from yet another party faded into the stillness, Gatsby approached me on the terrace. The moonlight cast long shadows across the lawn, and there was a hesitation in his steps that I hadn’t seen before.

“You know,” he began, leaning against the stone railing, “for the longest time, I thought everything I did was for Daisy. Every party, every bit of gold and glitter—it was all meant to bring her back to me.”

“Isn’t it still?” I asked, unsure of what he was getting at. “You’ve built all of this for her.”

“Yes,” he admitted, but there was a shift in his tone, a softness I hadn’t heard before. “But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about Daisy.”

The breath caught in my throat. “Then what was it about?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Gatsby turned to face me fully, his gaze searching mine. “It was about finding something real. I thought Daisy could give me that, but then I met you. You were there for every moment, every detail, pulling me back when I started drifting into dreams again. I started looking forward to your company, your words, your laughter.” He took a step closer, the intensity in his eyes almost overwhelming. “It was you who brought me back to reality.”

I stood frozen. “Jay,” I began, struggling to find the right words. “I—”

"You don't have to tell me anything, Y/N." Gatsby smiled, a minuscule one that conveyed just how difficult this was for him too. "I just wanted to make my interest clear."

His words hung in the air, a fragile thread connecting us in that moonlit moment. The warmth of his gaze sent a thrill racing through me, igniting something deep inside—a longing I had tried to ignore while orchestrating his reunion with Daisy. The truth crashed over me like a wave, and I realized that somewhere along the way, Jay Gatsby had become someone truly important to me.

In that electric silence, I felt the boundaries between us dissolve. I could no longer hold back. My heart surged with emotion, and before I could think, I stepped forward and closed the distance between us.

Our lips met in a fervent kiss, an eruption of pent-up desire and vulnerability. It felt like a revelation, as if everything I had been holding back rushed forth in that single moment. Gatsby’s surprise melted into a warmth that enveloped me, his hands moving to cradle my face as he kissed me back with a fervor that took my breath away.

Time seemed to stand still as we lost ourselves in each other, the world around us fading into the background. The soft rustle of the leaves and the distant hum of the night felt like a distant echo. All I could focus on was the taste of him, the way he held me as if I were a fragile dream he was afraid to lose.

[slutforitoshi]

rin itoshi - ink *:･ﾟ✧

ft. tattoo artist!rin x f!reader, 18+ minors dni

cw: unprotected sex, fingering, oral m!receiving, head pushing, nipple play, choking

synopsis: you intend to get a tattoo on your rib cage, but your tattoo artist is eager to see more skin

wc: 2.3k

A/N: kicking screaming crying at the idea of tattoo artist rin also ty for 500 followers!

you swallow hard as you come face to face with your tattoo artist. rin itoshi was the one of the executive artists at blue lock arts and was usually booked for months in advance. your friend isagi had managed to squeeze you in since he knew him personally. 

“it’s nice to finally meet you,” he extends a hand, and you shake it lightly, hoping your own palm wasn’t clammy from nerves. 

you didn’t know if you wanted to thank isagi or punch him. he warned you rin might be a ‘cold prick’, but what isagi failed to mention was that he was panty-dropping hot. and you were expected to keep still while his hands traversed your body for the next 2 hours. 

rin reaches for his tablet before handing it to you, “so i took a look at your ideas and this is what i came up with, let me know what you think” 

it’s gorgeous. it wasn’t for no reason that he had become so well-known despite only entering the industry a few years back. the strokes were drawn with precision, and it encapsulated your vision so perfectly he might as well have read your mind.

“rin it’s perfect” you look at him in awe, and it sends a wave of heat to his face. 

he turns away to hide the unfamiliar pink color on his cheeks and murmurs a “thanks, it’s my job to.” he was usually nonchalant about his work, but something about your starry gaze made him lose composure.

you’re guided to his tattoo table and ordered to lay down, lifting your shirt to reveal your right rib that you intended to ink up. 

“this your first tat?” he asks, noticing the how bare your skin was. something impure crosses his mind thinking how he’d be the first one to leave a mark. 

“yup first one” you laugh nervously, “unless you count the failed stick and poke i did myself back in high school”  

your anecdote earns an amused scoff from rin, “don’t tell me you used pen ink?”

“yeah and an unsanitized sewing needle, too. the thing got so infected and left a nasty scar,” you replied, lifting your leg to reveal the raised skin on your ankle. 

“don’t worry, i’ll make sure this one stays” he’s approaching you now with the tattoo gun, “you’re in good hands here”

his words fill you with warmth, and you wonder why you were ever nervous in the first place.

you both settle into a comfortable silence, with only the slight buzz of the gun to be heard. the lack of conversation allows you to focus your thoughts to another subject: rin. 

the view of rin tapped into his artistic zone was comparable to the work he was currently imprinting on your body. his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, lips pursed in concentration. piercing teal orbs would switch their gaze between the reference work and your skin, unnerved by any other environmental stimulus. 

another thing that caught your attention was the lack of tattoos he had on him considering his profession. many artists you knew of were covered and had no intention of hiding them, but you couldn’t spot a single spot of ink on rin. 

“is there something on my face?” he asks, still not sparing you a glance. 

“n-no. just didn’t know where else to look…” you stammer, embarrassed from being caught. you could’ve sworn his lips quirked upwards for a second, but he’s back to being expressionless within a blink. 

“well we’re about 75% finished here so let’s take a 10 minute break and then come back to it” he wipes off the excess ink and discards of his gloves. 

before he can retreat to his desk you ask, “so how do you and isagi know each other?”

“that bastard and i used to be rivals in high school soccer. he used to be real annoying you know, always talking about ‘devouring’ his opponents” he rolls his eyes, remembering old matches. 

“honestly not surprising. i remember he threw a fit when he lost our class’s dance dance revolution tournament,” you laugh reminiscing on your own college memories, “i don’t even know why he tried so hard the prize was a fucking $5 gift card to McDonald’s and he hated that place.”

“apparently gives him debilitating shits” you two finish in unison before bursting into laughter. rin’s laughter is rich and deep, and you try to ignore the shiver it sends down your spine. 

“so how are you unfortunately acquaintanced with isagi?” rin settles into a nearby seat, forgoing his intention to leave.

“we actually used to be coworkers at our college part-time job. and we were the only ones willing to do the night shifts so we got pretty close” 

rin chuckles, “you must be pretty patient to be able to spend so many hours alone with him.”

“oh trust me he definitely drove me insane. he’s a good friend though, and i got an appointment with you through him so i’m definitely thankful for that” you give a warm smile. 

“well, i guess i can thank isagi for introducing us too” he reciprocates your smile, which is quickly interrupted by his manager.

“my ears must be failing me because there’s no way rin is conversing with a customer for once.” 

the manager then looks to you and adds, “well i guess it makes sense that he would open up to a pretty thing like you”

the new presence instantly wipes the smile from rin’s face, and he retorts “what do you want otoya?”

“just wanted to let you know that i’m heading out. make sure to lock up when you’re done” he instructs. he’s about to leave before he turns to look at you again, “hey if rin doesn’t end up asking you out i’d be more than happy to-”

“LEAVE OTOYA”

otoya’s hands go up in surrender, but he makes sure to shoot you a wink before turning the corner. 

“well he is certainly um interesting” you laugh nervously, surprised at the scowl etched onto rin’s face. 

“if you’re interested in him i should warn you that he’s a serial cheater” he mutters, but it only envokes laughter from you. 

“trust me i can sense a sleaze from a mile away” 

your response softens his gaze a little and he signals for you to lay back down on the tattoo bed to start the final session. you couldn’t help but notice that now that you two were the only ones in the building, the space felt a little more intimate.

as the needle presses into you again, you find the pain to be a hundred times more unbearable as a result of your inflamed skin. 

the sensation has you forming tight fists, pressing crescent indents into your palm. and if that wasn’t enough your vocal cords started to betray you, with small whines escaping your lips. unbeknownst to you, those same noises are eating away at rin’s focus. blood is rushing to his head, and not the large one.

“you’re being so good for me, i’m almost done” he whispers in reassurance, rubbing his thumb lightly against your ribcage. his touch effectively distracts you from the pain, sending heat to your lower abdomen. 

it’s not much longer before he’s sitting back, announcing that the piece is finished, and encouraging you to sit up and look in the mirror. what’s reflected back at you leaves your mouth agape. 

“rin, it’s beautiful” 

“yeah, it really is” he agrees, although his gaze never once shifted away from your face.

after a few photos, he’s wrapping up the new ink and getting ready to send you out. as you’re packing up however, you notice a dark trail at the edge of rin’s sleeve. 

“what’s your tattoo of?” you ask, catching his attention. 

he ponders for a moment before replying, “do you want to see it?” 

you nod eagerly, expecting him to roll up his sleeve. however, he opts to discard of his top completely, revealing what could only be deemed as a masterpiece. between that and his incredibly toned body, you were mesmerized.

before your consciousness could stop your instincts, your hand is reaching out to trace over the ink. rin doesn’t stop you, though his skin is burning up from your light fingertips. 

“i drew it myself back when i was an apprentice. my boss at the time did it for me.” 

his voice snaps you back to reality and you quickly withdraw your hand, cheeks flushed. before you could issue an apology though, his own hands are wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back in towards his chest. 

“the things you do drive me fucking crazy” he mutters before colliding his lips into yours. the built up tension over the past few hours is cut so suddenly it leaves both of you desperate to get a taste. 

your hands wrap around rin’s neck, pressing yourself deeper into his warmth. his fingers are tugging at the underside of your shirt now, itching to feel more of your skin. 

he disconnects contact only for a moment to hoist you back up onto the tattoo bed again, lifting your shirt over your head soon after. 

“you’re perfection” he growls at the sight of you before diving into capture your beaded nipple between his lips. the other one isn’t neglected either, finding solace between his fingers, rolling back and forth. 

“a-ah. it’s sensitive rin” you whine at the sensation, which does nothing to halt his ministrations. 

“take them off.” he whispers against your skin, and you need no clarification to know what he means. you kick off your shorts, leaving only your panties stuck against your soaked core. 

rin peels them back, marveling at the slick gathered between your thighs. he quickly pushes you back until you’re rested against the bed, and aligns his fingers to your entrance, eager to be intruded. 

he doesn’t give you the satisfaction immediately however, circling slowly around where you needed him most.

“rin, please,” you beg, “need you inside”

and how could he deny such an earnest request? two fingers push into you at once with little resistance, but it has you rolling your eyes back, leaning further into the firm leather beneath you.

“looks like you need more” he smirked before a third finger made its entrance. a long drawn out rinnn from your lips has his cock painfully straining against his jeans, but he still remained relentless in his pace. 

his digits pumped with such vigor it was impossible to slow down the coil building in your abdomen. his lips attaching to your still-sensitive nipple is what makes you come undone though, and your back is arching against the bed as he’s muttering a, “that’s right, go ahead and cum for me”

with barely a second to recover, you’re ordered to go on your knees as he unzips his jeans to reveal a length you couldn’t fathom fitting within you. the way your mouth watered overrode any fear though and you lean forward to wrap your lips around his tip. 

his hand goes flying to your hair, coiling it around his fist tight. he guides you deeper, inch by inch until tears are pricking at the corner of your lashes. 

“come on baby, i know you can take more” he encourages, and you relax your throat to take an additional 1-2 inches. the pain was nothing compared to the pleasure that ran through you hearing the gutteral moan that escaped rin’s lips. 

you built a rhythm going in and out, making sure to circle your tongue at his tip to feel the shudder that ran through him every time. your hair was still gripped between his fingers, so tight his knuckles were turning white. he was getting dangerously close to finishing, and as tempting as that was he wasn’t quite finished with you yet.

“that’s enough,” he orders, pulling you to your feet. before you could process the new emptiness, he’s flipped you around, pushing your chest forward into the leather bed. 

his guides his tip between your dripping folds, and then pushing once he felt the catch of your entrance. the stretch has you letting out a sigh, and it isn’t long before he’s pulling strings and strings of moans out of you.

one hand is firmly placed at your waist, pulling you against the snap of his own hips. the other is fondling your breasts again, addicted to the plush spilling against his fingers.

“more rin” you plead, and his fingers travel up to your throat, wrapping them tighter until you’re lightheaded. the feeling was intoxicating, clearing your mind of everything but the pleasure.

“so fucking good for me, taking it all” he groans, and his own mind is going to a haze at the squeezes your walls kept inflicting on him. he wouldn’t last much longer at this pace, and it would be such a shame not to cum to such a pretty face. 

he quickly pulls out of you, turning you over to face his piercing teal eyes. barely a second passes before he’s entering you again, thrusting with intensity that threatened the bed to tip over. 

“want you to fill me up” you moan, sensing that he was close. the request has him releasing any restraint he once held, painting your walls with strips of white. the sight of it leaking past your folds once he pulled out had his cock twitching in pride. 

the contrast between rin’s behavior within a span of but 2 minutes was stark, as he took a towel to gently wipe up the mess he left behind.

he places a kiss on your temple, “wait for me in the front ok?”, and turns to start clearing up his work station.

once you had finished trying to make yourself look like you hadn’t just been fucked silly, you waited for rin in the lobby to pay the cost of your tattoo. he simply shut off the register though, leaving you all the more confused. 

“wait i still need to pay the rest of-”

“the deposit was plenty,” he shrugs off your concern, “and if you want to tip…you can do it in the form of dinner next week.”

little did you know that he had no intention of letting you pay for that either.

[rin-and-jade]

Are You? What about You? Them? : A Post about Differentiating Types of Parts.

We all know that spiderman meme where they pointed to each other because they share similar qualities that confuses their selves;

Like this. Right?

They all sounded so similar that we neither knew which is which at first glance..

And so, at the end of this post you will be confident in pointing out who is who, just like a spiderman who can tell apart from its own multiverse friends, that is. So let's get pointing to the smaller details!

How it works..

We know what it's like to be conscious, yeah? What if i were to tell you that yes, there are varying degrees of consciousness, and that we all can fluctuate on those levels too?

The levels of consciousness can vary from only being aware of its physical surroundings and react instinctually (lesser level), to being able to self-introspect and understand what they like and dislike (higher level). This is all dependent on many different factors and i want to clarify that it takes more than just 'awareness' to tell a fragment apart from an alter for example. But, still important to know what level its at.

This explains why shards, and fragments are less flexible when facing an issue, as they're more limited or not as equipped as an alter in terms of reasoning or level of logic/knowledge. So why is that? It can be from the intensity of dissociation, and other things like how much implicit and explicit memories it retains, this includes experiences.

How to tell them apart..

Sure, theres a spectrum to this too, as every type of part can be a bit different though still can categorized loosely, not meaning it has to fit perfectly to the box :

1. No sense of identity and, or tangible form/shape outside of performing a specific task, or hold a single memory/mood. (Shard)

2. Small sense of identity (a trait that is distinctive/distinguishable), possibly have a less blurry appearance than level 1 and still performs specific tasks, have little to no memories/range of emotions. (Shard)  

3. Mish mash of small qualities, but not enough to encapsulate an identity/personality, may have a sense of existing, and can emotionally react to environment/situation. Usually have a defined innerworld form, and may retain some memories but depends on origin, still fixed on role. (Fragment)

4. Has a developed dominant facet, which can be seen more lively and autonomous compared from level 1-3,, but still a bit rigid and have a narrow/limited view in general. Can distinguish and identify feelings, and have goals/hobbies/interests, self curiosity/exploration to function outside role. (Fragment, leaning to alter)  

5. Has a multifaceted personality in which it cannot defined by one word, fully knows its likes and dislikes, long term goals, morals, and a complex view on life. May have developed purpose outside role job, pursuing self-fulfillment. (Alter)

So in conclusion, shards are not wholly self aware and rely on current implicit memories, from my own system experience shards feels so blank, lifeless, somewhat robotic. Fragments have a partial sense of autonomy, it can rationalize and react to its own accord, reason, and learn/explore,, though had not fully know who they are. Alters are like any other usual people, where it has accumulated knowledge and experience that had shaped then throughout existing, reinforcing a faceted sense of self and purpose.

Growth to perfection..

Are you also wondering if shards and fragments can grow to an alter? The answer is, yes! Though some can be stuck in a certain stage, which is nothing to be ashamed about, and doesn't need changing.

Though, this takes a really long time and process, i note my own fragments will reach to a stage where it barely matches the loose category of an alter in 6 months, and to be a fully developed alter, it might need a whole year (okay this is my own calculations, other people will have it slower or faster).

To grow a shard towards a fragment category, my theory is that you have to interact with, and let them immerse/exprience the real world by supervision (outside of its role task) to develop more environmental, and self awareness. They will be very limited in terms of knowledge and names so this is a good time to start introducing these, and they may not even realize they exists themselves before sometimes,, try nudging them activities to experiment, and foods to taste, examine emotion wheel.. theres a lot to start from.

To grow a fragment to an alter, start introducing other views and complex topics, the goal here is to create a more developed understanding of life. From my experience, all my fragments have a dominant facet, e.g. angry dog vibes; and slowly let them learn how to be soft, or act more polite,, it will slowly solidify as a new facet, now capable of being kind and not always behaving threatening/i-will-still-bite-you attitude to every situation, as it now can be more flexible which facet it should use depending on situation.

Last words..

So, you are now an educated spiderman who can not only point out, but understand the basics of why,, and how to grow a part to have a better sense of awareness!

Let me know in the comments, i would like to hear why the part you had specifically picked/chose is possibly a shard/fragment/alter from your own reasoning and interactive mini discussion with me,, lets finally put them into real practice yeah?

Also, Happy Valentines, *offers you a free heart chocolate*

- j, your educational fiancée