#i am however a fan fic writer

[foodcourtpancake]

sketching my pov~

[msnihilist]

#hey op he WHAT

Did I fucking stutter??

btw, Nicktoons Unite nation, Timmy has heat vision. He wished for it in a season one episode and then an episode in a later season confirmed he still has it. Just putting that out there because I think it would be really funny for him to use it in front of the others with no warning.

[kitten4sannie]

ateez and corruption kinks… that’s it I just had to let that out into the void

communion

pairing: priest! yunho x nun! reader (fem)

summary: priest jeong wishes to share another communion with the most beloved member of the monastery.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: for the love of god (lol) if sacrilegious smut isn’t your thing do NOT read this,, however if it IS wellll i got something good for you <3, wine drinking, but like, in an unconventional way lmao, nasty perverted dom! yuyu, subby cock hungry! reader (can we blame her tho?), implied sex slave training, oral (giving/receiving), deepthroating, finger sucking, cum eating, implied toy usage (the toy is um….well…a religious object…)

a/n: oh nonnie idt you realize what you’ve unleashed with that ask ^^ there’s nothing i love more than corruption 🖤 physical, emotional, psychological ughhhh,,, anyways writers block and some shitty real life stuff have been taking turns beating me up the past couple months so i thought this might be a good escape for me :3 i hope you enjoy <33

p.s: i’ll be posting two more fics with a corruption theme very soonnn,, one features perverted bsf wooyoung and the other involves frat boy sannie 🫶🏼

song rec: take me to church - hozier (i mean come on….)

No matter how dark the communal church grew in the late hours of the night, the bright light of the moon still shone through the fragmented mosaic glass, now casting a myriad of gleaming crosses across your face and body as you sat on your knees upon the altar. You raised your hands up to begin worshipping your Lord in the way you were taught by Father Jeong, gingerly opening his robes to unveil the point of your focus.

Yunho lifted up a ceremonial bell and rung it once, his robes pooling around his feet, watching as your thighs squeezed tightly together underneath your heavy garments, your shaky exhale fanning over his exposed, twitching cock, finding the unyielding look of pure lust inside your eyes to be so beautiful he could shed a tear. Over the many, many communions you’ve shared together, it seemed that the bell reminded you of your loyalty to him and to your shared savior, of the pleasure you shared all in the name of God.

He pushed your veil off to expose your hair, before he placed his large hands on either side of your head, his long, slender fingers wrapping securely around it. “And, what do we say now, Sister L/N?” he asked softly, as though he were testing you, dragging his tongue over his top set of teeth, letting out a few heavy breaths.

“O’ Lord, for which I am about to receive, is truly your most precious Body and your life-giving blood, which, I pray, makes me worthy to receive for the remission of all my sins and for everlasting life,” you recited your prayer like many times before, the wetness between your thighs everlasting, watching Father Jeong let go of your head for a second to pick up a chalice of wine from the ceremony table behind him.

Yunho held the gold chalice just above his waist, growing that much harder as the dark liquid began to pour down his long, curved length, spilling off of his sticky tip and dripping into your open mouth. “The Blood of Christ…” He watched you swallow it all down, like the obedient servant you were. Something this sinful simply had to be holy, didn’t it? He swallowed down the abundant saliva that filled his mouth. “Ahh?” he voiced, like he was waiting for you to say something.

“Amen,” you sighed out, licking the remnants of wine and pre-cum from your lips, your trembling fingers clasping around his bare hips.

“Amen.”

Yunho then thrusted forward until he hit the back of your parched throat, eagerly dragging you back and forth along his sizable cock, using you like the faithful cocksleeve you were, the repetitive sounds of squelching, gagging, and muffled moaning sending delightful shivers down his spine, much like the sacred hymns did to him every morning during mass. “Sister L/N, your throat has molded to the shape of my cock, has it not? Bonding with me all these long nights, over and over, it’s like you were made for me, and only me. Tell me, Sister, does taking the Body of Christ down your throat make you feel closer to God?”

You let out a stunted, pleased moan, blinking a few tears out of your dazed, half closed eyes, watching as a blurry version of Father Jeong brought his rosary up to his lips to kiss it. Due to being trained so consistently, you knew to relax your jaw and throat in order to take all of him without fail, your gag reflex nonexistent, simply drooling all over his long, heavy cock instead, much to Yunho’s delight.

“Oh, God, let His will be done….” He hunched over slightly, in order to pound himself into the back of your throat over and over, thick strands of pre-cum and saliva dripping from your chin and landing onto your previously pristine garments, his fingers closing in around your bulging throat to feel himself moving inside it. It was simply too much for the priest to handle. “So…nnngh–sovereign, so pure, this divinity…” Yunho expressed between heavy pants, suddenly pulling out until his twitching cockhead rested against your splayed out tongue. “Sister L/N, you must show me something heavenly so that I may fill you with the Holy Spirit. Be quick, for I am at my limit…”

Licking the beads of pre-cum from his slit, you began to lift up the layers of your tunic until your bare cunt glistened underneath the moonlight that was casted over you like a spotlight, the edges of your skin glowing as though you were a real life angel, one that was sent down from above to tempt Yunho, especially now that he could see you in your most vulnerable state. “Father Jeong, please see what I’ve done for you. I’ve kept myself full…so that I may take you inside properly…”

It was then that Father Jeong fell to his knees before you, looking up at the slick heaven in between your thighs, before leaning in to lap up the abundant wetness from your lips, his hot tongue practically melting against your cunt as he ate you out like a starved man, spreading your open with his ringed thumbs. Maintaining steady eye contact with you, he slowly pulled the hood of your clit back to expose your weak point, wrapping his plush lips around it as he began to suck and lick until he had you trembling above him, your nails digging into the dense wood of the pews. “Cum before me,” he commanded, dragging his tongue along your fluttering slit up to your throbbing clit until you let out a beautifully broken cry.

You spread your trembling thighs open just enough to allow what was filling you up the entire time to slowly come sliding out, both you and the priest letting out a similar gasp once it did. A thick, slick-covered silver cross landed inside Yunho’s open palm. He watched diligently as you lifted it up to his mouth, not even having to say anything as he sucked it clean. Without exchanging words, Yunho stood back and squeezed his throbbing cock, just as you lowered yourself back down onto your knees with a loving smile, watching with pride as he began to shudder, long spurts of his hot cum landing onto your tongue and disappearing down your throat.

“What a thing of beauty….” The priest swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. “You never fail to bring me close to our Savior, my dear,” he praised, reaching down to rub the remaining remnants of his seed over your swollen lips and onto your tongue with his thumb, pulling it away from your mouth and licking the last of his saltiness off of his digit himself.

“It’s all for the greater good,” you softly replied, slowly standing up and hiking up your now soiled garments, so that you could bend over the pew, spreading yourself wide, opening the gates of your heaven and giving Yunho access like every blissful night before. “Now, please allow me to bring you even closer.”

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[theundercoversquid]

Haircuts and Fans

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x author!Reader 

may I ask for a fic where the author reader has a haircut with charles where pascale goes to the barber shop and charles stubbornly wants to help his mother? maybe the customers inside know the reader.

Warnings: 

Masterlist

A writer and formula one driver masterlist

"Please can I help, please, please, please?" Charels pleaded. His lips pouty as he hit you and his mum with the puppy dog eyes. "Please."

"Fine." You exclaimed, throwing your arms up. "One cut, one small little cut under your mum's supervision." You had held up one finger, pointing it at him. "But if you do anything to mess it up, I will kill you."

"Of course, I won't mess it up," Charles exclaims. Sounding offended that you would think such a thing.

But you just stare at him sceptically.

The two of you are broken out of your staring match by the sound of his mum laughing from where she is standing next to the pair of you.

"Don't worry, mon ange." She assured you. Placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. I will make sure he doesn't do anything wrong.

"Maman," Charles whined as you and his mum shared a teasing look.

The two of you just continued to laugh at him. Much to his displeasure if the pout was anything to go on.

But rather than continue teasing the poor thing, the two of you headed for one of the nearby chairs. 

Sitting you down, Pascal and you talked over what you were thinking for your hair, what sort of style you were thinking, and if you had any inspiration, that sort of thing.

Charles, however, just stood off to the side, nodding knowingly, though you and Pascal both knew that he had no clue what was going on.

But you didn't need to let him know that you both knew.

When you and Mama Leclerc had finished coming up with what you wanted, she stood you up and set about washing your hair.

Charles followed obediently behind the both of you. 

He even offered to massage your head for a bit. An offer you were never going to say no to.

When it came time for the actual hair cut, you and the pair of Leclercs moved back over to your chair where you had previously even sat. 

Sitting you down, Pascal set about sectioning strands of your hair and working out where to start and what to do.

When she had started, she showed Charles what she was doing, demonstrating the movements over and over for him, making sure that he understood what she was trying to explain.

When she was sure that he understood, she finally handed over the scissors and comb.

"Are you sure you want to do this, ma Cherie," Pascal asked you softly. Her eyes meeting yours through the mirror.

"I am." You nodded. "I trust him."

You could see Charles's cheeks took on a slight red tint at your words. As he ducked his head down. Pretending to focus on your hair as he lined the scissors up.

"Like this mama?" he questions his mum softly.

You could see the concentration on his face. A level of concentration that he usually reserved for F1.

"Exactly like that." Pascal coached him.

All three of you watched as he finally squeezed the scissors, hearing them cut through your hair and watching it fall to the ground.

Charles smiled proud of himself before promptly handing the scissors back to his mum.

You and Pascal smiled at him before Pascael returned to her job. The two of you nattered away as Charles drifted off. His attention already flitting off to something else.

When your haircut was all done, and your hair was dry, you showed Charles your new look.

Charles cooed at you. Grabbing your hand as he got you to do a spin. Complimenting you on how stunning you looked and telling his mum what a good job she had done.

Smiling fondly at him, you let him pull you in for a quick pec. Not minding that his mother was standing right next to you.

Just as you were turning to leave, you heard a timid call of your name. Spinning, you were met with the woman who had been sitting in the chair next to you.

Smiling at her, you wonder what she was going to say next.

"I just wanted to say I'm a massive fan." The woman told you shyley as you smiled encouraging at her. "I love your books."

"Oh, thats so lovely to hear." You beamed at her. It was always so lovely to hear that people liked your books. Not in an arrogant way. It was just always so lovely to hear that you had connected with people.

"I just wanted to say I can definitely see your boyfriend in some of your characters." At that, you could feel as some blood rushed to your checks. Laughing at her statement.

"He has definitely done a lot of good for me and my inspiration." You told the women.

"But yeah, I just wanted to say I am a massive fan and can't wait till your next book." The woman hurried to finish telling you. Her head ducked down at the end of the sentence.

"Well, it was so lovely to meet you as well," you beamed at the lady before finally heading out of the hairdressers, where you could see Charles looking at you with a fond smile.

"Look at you being the popular one of the two of us." He teases. Grabbing your hand as he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

"Oh, stop it, you," you tease him back, gently watching him in the chest. "We both know you are by fair the more famous one."

"Nuh-uh." Charles refutes childishly as you just laugh at him.

Laughing at your boyfriend, you gently lead him off as you both head home.

"So she can see me in your character, huh," Charles comments, teasing a moment later.

"Oh you are insufrable!" You laugh. Waking him on the chest again as he just laughed at you.

And maybe he was the inspiration for some of your characters. But if you weaved your soul into the books that you wrote, then you would be damned if you didn't weave some of his soul in right alongside. Your souls were so intertwined now that you don't think you could ever separate them.

[aftg-paranormal]

Do you love AFTG? Do you love the paranormal? Then this is the fest for you!

The AFTG Paranormal Fest aims to inspire fanfics and artwork based on all things supernatural.

You can sign up as a writer, an artist or both! Express your interest by filling out this form now! Sign-ups begin May 1st.

Please reblog to spread!

What content is allowed?

Anything and everything paranormal, supernatural and AFTG. All we ask is that it is tagged correctly when posted.

All transformative works will be accepted. All relationships, tropes and ratings are accepted. There are no limits, other than the paranormal!

You may use themes such as, but not limited to:

Vampires

Werewolves

Witches / Magic

Ghosts / spirits

Superpowers and/or abilities

Reality shifting

Mermaids / Sirens

Ressurection

Demons / Angels / Devils

Time Travel

Seers / precognition

Faeries / Fae

Dragons

Aliens

And more! If it is supernatural, it counts!

If you have any questions. do not hesitate to reach out through our inbox, asks or discord!

FAQ

Q: Am I allowed to sign up as both an author and an artist? A: Absolutely!

Q: Can I finish my WIP for this event? A: Absolutely, as long as it is completely unpublished (i.e. is not already up on AO3).

Q: Can I write a sequel? A: You can write sequels to already-existing fic! However, it must also be possible to read as a standalone. If you are writing a sequel of someone else's fic, you must have their permission.

Q: What kind of art is accepted? A: Everything! Drawings, paintings, fan videos, podfic, edits, everything in between!

Q: Can my friend and I sign up as a pair? A: You absolutely can! Can't wait to see your collaborative efforts.

Q: Are crossovers or fusions allowed? A: Yes, as long as AFTG is the main focus.

[hinaaspanda]

the act of love | p.sh

pairing: idol actor! park sunghoon x idol actor! fem reader warnings: swearing, mentions of food + dieting, alcohol genre: enemies to lovers, secret pining, angst, slight fluff, smut: protected sex, fingering, slight dirty talk and praise wc: 10,639

Park Sunghoon was heartless; you were convinced. After selfishly leaving you for another company, Park Sunghoon was now your enemy. Now, with years past and both of your careers sky rocketing as famous idols, you thought you were done dealing with him. However, life had other plans; placing the two of you as main leads in an upcoming romantic drama!

hi! after months of writers block i am finally back with another sunghoon fic! i missed writing for my bae! also, this fic mentions idols not being allowed in relationships, so i just wanna make it clear; i know idols can probably date if they wanted to (unless theres a dating ban) and theyre entilited to their personal lives! i just wanted to add drama teehee. anyways, enjoy!

“Go out with me.” 

His voice rasped against your skin, his face mere centimetres from yours; lips even closer. Puffs of the cold air sprouted at each hitched breath, every impatient inhale. Rain drizzled around you, encasing your frames like a protective barrier. The world was no one else’s but yours. The streetlamp cast a warm light against your figures; in the spotlight of your own stage. His hand brushes your hair behind your ear, his touch as light as a feather. It sends shivers down your spine. Your pounding heart leaped from your chest, getting stuck between the walls of your throat. His eyes bore through your frame, keeping yours locked in its grasp. 

“I-”

“CUT!”

The muffled, yet heavily amplified voice of your director shocked your ears through the megaphone. Well, yours and the rest of the staff that surrounded you and your co-star. You jolted, eyes quickly scanning the filming set, complete with the fake rain machines, fans, and stage lights. Eventually they landed on your director, whose ears were practically puffing out steam. 

“You’re late again, y/n!” The director irritatedly reminds you, pinching the bridge of his nose. You wince, beating yourself up for your stupid mistake. He only sighs, his face growing less red, his tone becoming more forgiving. “Memorise your queues, okay? Now, that’s a wrap for today. Good work!” 

After your director finally dismisses the clamour of staff members and actors, clacks of footsteps  suddenly peak from behind you. You only roll your eyes. You knew exactly who it was, and he didn’t deserve even an ounce of your attention. 

Park Sunghoon. The man you hated most. 

The man you were forced to work with for this stupid idol drama. 

“If you needed my help you could’ve just said so,” Sunghoon crossed his arm, his face cold and indifferent. You scowled. His words may have seemed innocent, helpful even. But his snarky tone made it overwhelmingly clear; his words were nothing but harsh insults. 

Park Sunghoon was just heartless like that.

“Piss off, will you? I didn’t have enough time!” You were telling the truth; your schedule had been jam packed with dance practice and promotional events—the typical life of an idol. You puff your chest out like some dumb chicken, only earning a huff from Sunghoon’s lips as he steps closer to you. You couldn’t help but notice how much he towered over your frame with his lanky one. How small locks of his hair hung above his eyes like curtains. He probably got a kick out of it all. The thought alone made you sick.

“And whose fault is that?” Sunghoon only cocked an eyebrow. 

Mine, you thought bitterly. You hated when he was right. 

“Why don’t you rehearse the scene where you learn to shut up?” You spat back instead. With that, you spun away from him, retreating to your change room within the filming set. Leaving Park Sunghoon to fend for himself.

Truth be told, you didn't always hate him. Years ago, you and Sunghoon were actually close. Best friends, in fact. The both of you grew up together, spent your school years together, and you shared the dream of stardom and fame. You both wanted to be idols, and so you auditioned for the same company. 

Amidst all of this, the two of you swore on one sole promise; never leave the other behind. To never put the likes of stardom and fame before your friendship. Of course you were able to hold your end of the bargain. But Sunghoon? He couldn’t quite say the same. 

It was two years into training with the company. Sunghoon had grown awfully distant from you. For some, the changes were subtle, practically unnoticeable. You, however, certainly noticed, but you never thought much of it. Always hiding your feelings under the guise of your busy, clashing schedules. Always making excuses for his heartless actions—until Sunghoon told you he was leaving the company. 

You remembered it as if it was yesterday. His eyes held no emotion. His posture was calm, laid back. Another, bigger company, was offering him a higher pay and a debut date that was fast approaching. You thought it was crazy. You were sure he would never switch so easily. He wouldn’t break the promise the two of you made years ago. He wouldn’t betray you in just the blink of an eye.

You were wrong.

He announced that he would officially leave in a week, but his dorm was empty in just two days—it was no surprise that he lied. Nevertheless, in those same two days, you vowed to make an enemy out of Park Sunghoon; the man heartless enough to betray you.

And yet, you were here. Stuck as his co-star for an idol drama you didn’t even want. Just to listen to your company's orders. It irked you beyond belief. 

You haphazardly threw your purse over your shoulder, adjusting the hem of your hoodie before heading out the door to meet your manager. 

ENHYPEN’s Park Sunghoon and HEARTBEAT’s Ahn y/n to star in upcoming drama

You found yourself scowling at the article in front of you, the glare of the laptop screen burning white against the darkness of your bedroom. With a huff, your head sunk further into the plush of the pillow, your frame burying itself into the covers. Maybe then, you could hide away from this cursed reality. This cursed world in which you were stuck working with the man you loathed. 

The article purged open the gates of your mind, allowing memories to seep through. Unwanted memories of Park Sunghoon. Staying up past your curfews just to practise together; ‘practising’ your vocal lessons at the karaoke bar down the street from your dorms; secretly rigging group games so the two of you ended up together. Now, they were all just bittersweet memories that plagued your mind.  

You wouldn’t be lying if you said you missed those times. A small sliver of you wouldn’t mind miraculously travelling back in time just to see your best friend again. To relive those memories once again. 

Nevertheless, the Park Sunghoon you were forced to work with was not your childhood friend. In your eyes, he was a complete stranger. 

Throwing a stuffie at your laptop, you bit the inside of your cheek, tucking your face into your knees. Even when you first reunited for the first day of shooting, that asshole didn’t even bother to apologise. You could barely recognize him.

“Throwing your stuffies at his picture won’t get rid of him, you know.” A voice rang in your ears. Kiri—your team’s main dancer and your roommate—slumped against the doorframe with her arms crossed against her chest. Kiri inches forward sitting on the edge of your bed as you huff a groan. “It should. You’d think we’d have the technology for it by now.”

“You think anyone’s petty enough to make something like that?”

“Not petty. Efficient,” you crossed your arms.

Kiri leaned back, tilting her head. “How are you two ever gonna work together if you can’t even stand his picture?”

“I don’t know! They probably should’ve thought of that before slapping our names on a contract neither of us even wanted!” Your arms flailed in defeat. 

“Maybe it’s a sign?” Kiri hesitated. “Like—the universe wanted the two of you to make up, or something.”

Your figure erupts in laughter, but Kiri’s unflinching demeanour suggests that she wasn’t trying to make you laugh with a joke. Your giggles fizzle out within seconds. “You’re serious?”

Kiri only huffs, shooting up from her seat. “I dunno, but just give him a chance. Maybe Sunghoon changed for the better?”

You watched Kiri’s back as she trekked out of your room. You only scoffed. Now that was something impossible.

Despite the relentless physical activities, and clamour of people within the building, going to the gym was one of your favourite pastimes. It allowed you and your teammates to unwind after a long day of idol activities. All of your worries and troubles—washed away by a quick jog on the treadmill. 

Right now, you needed that more than anything. 

“Gonna run today?” Kiri probed, sinking into a wide leg stretch and twisting her shoulders around. You hum positive, crossing your arm over in a stretch. “Yeah, I need to clear my head.”

Kiri only nodded, yanking dumbbells off of a community rack before sinking into the first squat of her first session. You trek a few paces over to the treadmill aisles, sliding your headphones over your ears and swiping at your phone screen to play some music. Soon enough, you were off, your heels and toes pressing repeatedly onto the platform, your heart rate rising at a steady pace. Step by step, your mind was gradually clearing, de-stressing. Like a cloud flying away from an otherwise bluesky, all of your worries surrounding your idol activities, that stupid drama, and that stupid Park Sunghoon whisked themselves away. For once in what seemed like forever, you were at peace.

“y/n.”

A voice roughly jolted you back to reality. Hastily, you push your headphones off, hooking them around your neck before glancing around to find the owner of the voice. The voice that ruined your peaceful evening. 

You choke. 

Park Sunghoon stood before you, his hands shoved in his pockets as he leaned back in a nonchalant manner. You took note of his black shirt; the way it was tight enough to see his chest peeking through, the way his short sleeves were rolled up, exposing his biceps. You cursed at yourself for looking.

You simply stood there, eyes wide and spilling from their sockets. Your hand snakes up, fiddling with the treadmill dashboard to stop the equipment from moving. You cling onto the handle bars; maybe for stability, maybe for protection. You weren’t sure. You glance to the side, another figure taking up your view. He looked vaguely familiar; you’ve probably seen him during live shows before. A gulp runs down your throat as you collect yourself.

“The hell are you doing here?”

Sunghoon crossed his arms, your eyes glance at his pecks. Bruh. “I came here to work out. What’s wrong with that?”

“Isn’t there another gym near you?”

“This is my gym. I go here regularly.”

Your brows furrow. “What? This is my gym! I never see you here.”

“That’s a you problem,” Sunghoon tilted his head coyly, earning a groan from you. Sunghoon cleared his throat. “Besides, I’m not here for you. Jake wanted to say hi.”

Sunghoon jutted a thumb at the man beside him. His face held a wide grin as he held out his hand. You clung onto his palm in a swift hand shake, a smile now plastered onto your face. Jake’s eye smile never went away as he introduced himself. 

“I’m Jake, one of Sunghoon’s teammates! So nice to finally meet you!”

With a grin, you reciprocate his kind words. The two of you fell into wholesome small talk, completely forgetting the nuisance beside you. You already liked this guy way more. You and Jake talked endlessly about your similar hobbies, your overlapping interests. You enjoyed it, talking to the personified bundle of joy. It made you wonder why he was friends with someone like Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon cleared his throat, the sudden boom startling both you and Jake. 

“Let’s head back, man. I wanna get started on my reps.”

Jake only glanced back before turning around to face you, waving his hand at Sunghoon. “Start without me. I’ll catch up later.”

Sunghoon grumbled, turning around before marching over to the dumbbells. Only after he turned around did you notice the shells of his ears burning bright pink. Weird. 

You and Jake continued but something was off. You couldn’t quite focus. As the two of you were about to enter the conversation topic of favourite foods, your stubborn eyes began to wander to the view of Park Sunghoon. You watched as he sat hunched over on a random bench, his hands clinging onto a dumbbell as he curled the equipment up to his chin, and back down slowly. You watched as his muscles tensed, his sweat beaded off of his face, drenching his hairline. He looked good; and you hated it. 

Sunghoon’s eyes darted towards you, scanning back and forth between you and Jake. His eyes burned a hole through his teammate’s chest. His tongue poked beneath his cheek before his eyes darted away. Watching him, you found your heart racing. Odd, considering you hadn’t been running for a while. Something was really wrong with you. 

You waited for Jake to leave before collecting your belongings and dashing off the treadmill. You made a b-line for Kiri, innocently working out. Kiri glances up, a confused and weary look on her face. “You good?”

“No.” You murmur, your heart racing even more. What was going on? “I wanna go home.”

“That’s a wrap for today!” The director’s voice echoed through the building, signalling the end of another successful shoot, but you could barely pay any mind. Not with your stomach grumbling like a lion dying of hunger. 

This should’ve been an easy fix. With the table of refreshments, reserved just for the staff and cast members just 4 paces away from you, it was easy for anyone to take a quick bit and become instantly satisfied. Yet,your case was awfully special. You were currently on a diet. 

It was a common occurrence for someone in the industry in order to look your best in time for a special event. With group activities fast approaching for you and your group, the practice of dieting was natural to expect. 

Suddenly, the crackles of an open wrapper stung through your ears. Your head snaps to the sound, your senses heightened by the possibility of food. You squinted to get a better look. An overly seasoned rice ball, burning auburn in colour, with a dark strip of crispy seaweed running down the middle. It was a sight for sore eyes; your mouth watered. The way the oil glistened under the setlights above, the way each rice grain fell between the perfect balance of crisp and chewy, it all made your cravings skyrocket. You were about to take a step towards the godlike piece of food before your eyes remembered to scan the rest of the figure; the owner of the seaweed-wrapped gold. 

You stopped.

It was Park Sunghoon. He was the one digging into the last riceball from the refreshments table. He was the one responsible for your suffering. 

Your mind replays images from the gym; your last unfortunate encounter with the man you hated. The way your eyes wandered to places you didn’t want to see, the way your heart raced at his presence. It all stung you. And yet, here he was, making his way over to you. You found yourself coddling your stomach.  

“What do you want?”

“You were the one staring at me, y/n.”

You gulp. You try to look away from the bothersome man, you really did. However, with Sunghoon bringing the rice ball closer and closer to your starving frame, facing away from him was even hard to manage. You couldn’t help but steal a glance or two from his mouth watering snack. 

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” You only gulp. Were you that obvious?

You stepped back from the idol. “I’m dieting. Everything makes me hungry.” You noticed your words wavering at the last half or your sentence. 

Slowly, you walked away. You were expecting that interaction to be over, anyway. There was no use talking to him if he wasn’t going to provide you with any sort of solace. And besides, this was Park Sunghoon. Since when did you give him the light of day?

“There’s a convenience store down the street,” You heard Sunghoon’s voice as he jogged over to your escaping frame. “Let’s go.”

The convenience store? With Park Sunghoon?

“Are you dumb? My manager will kill me!”

A sudden warmth ghosted around the curve of your wrist. Sunghoon’s fingers clung gently around your skin, dragging your frame closer to his. 

“We’ll be quick.”

Running. You and Park Sunghoon were running. Pushing past the equipment and staff members scattered across the filming set, all yelling at you to come back. With your hand in his, and an optimal view of Sunghoon’s back, the two of you dashed out of the filming set doors, escaping into the daylight. It was odd. It was as if the world surrounding you completely vanished, leaving the two of you secluded. Just for this maybe 5 minute run to the convenience store, the world was your and yours alone. 

“You’re paying?”

“Yeah. You need to eat.” 

Your brows furrowed. Since when did he care? 

Your shoulder was nudged, and a rice ball fell into your hand. Your eyes met Sunghoon’s, whose eyes were already on you. “Here.”

You clear your throat. Your voice was small; an attempt to hide your fluttering heart. “Thanks.”

You dash in front of him, not wanting to look at him more than you needed to. This was the end of it all, anyways. You got what you wanted, and you were now on your merry way. 

“Wait—” A tug on your wrist once again. Sunghoon pulled your frame close to his chest, away from the sliding doors behind you. 

“Let’s stay here. Our managers will both have our heads if they see where we are,” Sunghoon huffed a chuckle. 

“You only realised that now?”

“Just eat your rice ball” Sunghoon rolled his eyes.

Unwrapping the golden deity of rice and seaweed, you and Sunghoon step to the side, huddling together at the corner of the lottery ticket station. The silver light above you flickered, the buzzing of the electricity humming across the entire room. However, you couldn’t give your surroundings even a sliver of your attention. You were too busy dying of hunger to care. 

“Look at you two!” The honey-like voice of an elderly woman seeped through your ears, breaking your attention away from your feast. It was the cashier, taking 5 from her work. “What a cute couple you are!”

You choked on your rice. A couple? Was that what the two of you looked like? Sure, Sunghoon bought your food for you, and you did just come running into the store holding hands. You sort of understood the confusion. But hell, was this lady ever wrong. Never in a million years would Park Sunghoon come close to someone you’d want to be a couple with. You would never give the thought the light of day. Dating Park Sunghoon? Nice try. He would need a heart of his own before getting a chance at capturing yours. 

You shined a bogus smile. “Oh no—”

“Thank you!” Sunghoon’s voice collided with yours. You choke on your rice again, despite no rice being ingested to begin with. Maybe you were simply choking on the audacity Park Sunghoon had at this very moment. You step up, desperately in need of clearing up the miscommunication, but the lady was already occupied with her next customer. You huff a sigh, returning to the last bites of your blessed rice ball.  

As you shoved the remaining food into your jacket, you and Sunghoon slip out of the convenience store, a cloud rumbling over your head, and your cheeks erupting into flames. You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Grumbling, you turn to him. 

“What was that!?” Your voice squeaked a little.

Sunghoon only shrugged, throwing his elbows in the air and his palms at the back of his head. “I couldn’t correct that sweet old lady! Plus, it’s not like we’re ever gonna see her again.”

The speed in which Sunghoon dismissed the situation agitated you to your core, but you couldn’t help but notice the shell of Sunghoon’s ear flashing red again.

Currently, you sat on the curb as you took 5 from an outdoor shoot. Knees tucked into your chest, and your lunch balancing on your kneecaps, you munched on your food peacefully. The sky that was suspended over your head painted a simple wash of blue. It carried a few splotches of white clouds, the same way your brain carried few thoughts in its head. For the first time in a while, your mind was at peace.

A certain warmth ghosted your side, snapping you out of your peaceful trance. It was Sunghoon, choosing to sit right next to you. Sunghoon waited a few paces before taking a bite of his lunch. Only then did he consider looking over at you. You, however, were already looking in his direction. Baffled.

“Relax. This was the only place I could sit.”

You grumbled under your breath.

You glance at Sunghoon’s lunch. A simple fruit salad; pieces of fruit cubed and tossed together in a plastic bowl. You watched as Sunghoon periodically pushed the mountain of mangoes further into the corner, minimising the chances of them mixing into the rest of his salad. Suddenly, memories from your trainee days flooded your brain. Memories of Sunghoon scooping the mangoes off of a fruit cake; of Sunghoon wincing the moment he tasted mangoes in his fruit cup; of Sunghoon always remembering to give you the pieces he never wanted because he knew you liked them.

Your chest twinged.

“You still don’t like mangoes?” Your words were uttered before you could think them through. You wince; only now realising that the usage of ‘still’ implies that you remembered the past. Fuck.

You watch the corner of Sunghoon’s lip twitch up before his head hangs down, as if he was trying to hide a smile. “You still remember that?”

You stayed silent. The answer was obvious, unfortunately. A lump jumped from your throat. “You’re still weird for that, by the way. Who the hell doesn’t like mangoes?”

“They're always bad. Too sour.”

“You’re just bad at picking them out.”

“Also they’re slimy. Gross.”

“They’re not—” You heave a sigh. “You’re so dumb.”

The two of you pause, your eyes holding onto each other as if a thread had hung in the balance. As if on queue, the two of you suddenly burst out into fits of laughter. You didn’t know exactly what came over you at that moment. It was as if your body had become possessed, manoeuvred by a puppet master. Yet somehow, sitting here, on this random curb, laughing with Park Sunghoon—it brought you a strange sense of comfort.

As the laughter dialled down, and the two you grew silent, Sunghoon still held onto your attention. Slowly, Sunghoon picked off the mango cubes from his bowl, reached over and plopped down onto yours. You only looked up at him, confused.

“They’re your favourite, right?” Sunghoon simply asked, a grin stretching across his face. Your stomach felt queasy. “You’re not the only one who remembers, you know.”

Why was your heart racing?

Today was the day. The day you dreaded the most.

“You’ve already survived this far, I really doubt today’s gonna be any different,” Kiri reasoned from her end of the company van. You hated how logical and indifferent she was, and how you were the complete opposite right now. 

You curled up in a ball on your car seat, your forehead resting on your knees. “Do you even know what scene we’re filming?” 

Kiri only huffed as the company van slowly pulled into the driveway. “Yes, y/n. You’ve only told me everyday for the past week.” You huffed. So much for having a friend who understood you. 

The van shifted into park, and Kiri released herself from the confines of her seat belt. With one last glance back at you, your teammate hops out of her car door, making her way to her individual schedule for the day. It took you every ounce of energy in your body to not reach over and grab her in a tight hug; steal her for yourself and your much needed moral support. 

“You’ll be okay, y/n. Trust me.” The car door slammed shut. 

Kiri definitely could not be trusted. Not when the particular scene you had scheduled was a kiss scene. With the one and only Park Sunghoon. You had every right to be just a little bit panicked. 

The director’s run down of today’s schedule seemed shorter than usual. Or maybe it wasn’t—maybe you were just desperate to stall the inevitable. Either way, you still found yourself sitting behind the snack table. It was the corner of the room; the farthest corner from the filming set. The set you’d soon occupy with the man of the hour.

Park Sunghoon was the man you hated. He was the man that broke your promise, leaving you to bask in your loneliness. He was the man that abandoned your friendship in favour of fame. You hated him for all of it. Kissing Park Sunghoon went against everything your entire being had to offer.  

And yet, you couldn’t get the thought of him out of your mind. 

You let your stubborn eyes wander as you stood in the middle of the scene. Now, you were in-between takes, and you simply stood there as a makeup artist touched up Sunghoon’s face. Slowly, your eyes approached him. In the next 5 minutes, you would’ve kissed him, and this will all be over. 

In 5 minutes. you would have kissed Park Sunghoon.

You’ll kiss Park Sunghoon.

“I’m yours, Choi Min Ah. No one else’s.” Sunghoon’s toasted breath wrapped your skin in a blanket of warmth. His voice was sweet; dipped in honey. Or, his character, Kwang Ill Han’s voice was. That’s who the voice belonged to—not Sunghoon. Recently, you’ve been having a difficult time differentiating the two. Sunghoon folded a hand over your cheek, slowly and gently linking his lips with yours. You crashed into the plush of his lips, your skin swiping at his. Your heart was racing again.

This was the kiss scene between Choi Min Ah and Kwang Ill Han. Not yours. So why was it affecting you? 

The director yells cut, and the last scene for the day finishes. The clamour of staff members and actors run around, preparing to leave. However, you simply stood there. Trapped in the middle of the filming platform. Trapped in your own thoughts. Thoughts that Park Sunghoon had selfishly plagued. 

You knew it was childish. You knew it was stupid. But it was what you needed to quell your erratic heart. 

So you ran.

Park Sunghoon was a selfish prick.

It was the thought that tainted Sunghoon’s mind as he watched you escape the film set earlier that afternoon, and it stayed plaguing his mind for the duration of that evening—even until he got home. He sunk into the plush of the couch, not bothering to pay any mind to the colossal mess his members left in the living room. Instead, Sunghoon simply gazed at the lamp above him, glowing a deep amber—letting his thoughts eat him alive. 

He let himself get carried away.

Sunghoon knew this would happen. He knew the risks that laced the opportunity of a reunion with you. He knew that, at just the slightest chance, Sunghoon would fall in love with you all over again. And, as far as his career was concerned; falling in love was forbidden. 

It all started years ago, a couple of years after the two of you joined the same entertainment company—though Sunghoon remembered it like it was yesterday. Sunghoon had just finished up his vocal lessons for the evening when the company CEO sat Sunghoon down in front of a laptop. It was littered with pictures that Sunghoon was a part of. However, all these shots had one thing in common; they were all pictures of you and him. Pictures of Sunghoon staring into your eyes lovingly as you decorated a cake for your group leader, of Sunghoon intimately adjusting your hair, clueless to the cameras filming you. Pictures of Sunghoon that expose his feelings for you.

In other words; a relationship rumour was bound to spread, if it hadn’t already, and Park Sunghoon was screwed.

The CEO goes on to tell Sunghoon the dangers that this holds. How a dating rumour during their trainee years had a greater chance of ruining their careers, their images. He scolded Sunghoon for being dumb and reckless. It was natural; you had a knack for making Sunghoon go crazy ever since he first met you in grade school. Park Sunghoon was smitten for you, and now he finally had to pay the price. 

The CEO, however, proposes a solution that would dial down the situation. Sunghoon would transfer to BELIFT LAB, a company in need of a male trainee for an upcoming debut of their new boy group. With Sunghoon now out of the way, there would be no room for rumours between the two trainees to spread. And with the sudden news of  Sunghoon signing with a new company ranking first in the spotlight, dedicated fans were bound to simply forget any rumours would even exist. 

Sunghoon didn’t know much when it came to this line of work. So, he agreed to the scheme. Anything to keep his career, and you, safe. 

The hardest part about it all was keeping it a secret from you. It was on company’s orders; you didn’t have a clue what was going on at the time, so it was best to just leave you in your blissful ignorance. The company ordered him to distance himself from you. To break away from the bond the two of you shared for years. It was no wonder you hated him; you had every right. And so, Park Sunghoon tried to shut down his feelings for you. Hiding his heart behind a fake persona that hated you the same way you hated him—thorns against his skin. Nevertheless, it was the only way to keep you somewhat in his life. 

Park Sunghoon knew it was bad news when he found out the two of you would reunite under the shackles of this web drama project. Park Sunghoon knew he couldn’t control himself around you; that you knew just how to drive his heart crazy. That was exactly why he was left here, alone in the living room, with the image of you running away from him replaying in his brain. 

His feelings for you have sparked once again. He wasn’t quite sure if they even left to begin with.  

But there was no way in hell your feelings would ever reciprocate. Not in a million years. It was clear the moment you ran away from him. 

A ping! jumps from Sunghoon’s phone, the light from the screen catching his attention. His thumb swipes at the notification; a message from his manager. It reveals a calendar with the upcoming weekend highlighted a bright green. The coloured boxes read only one sentence, but it was a sentence that would be burned in Sunghoon’s brain for a lifetime. 

FILMING AT JEJU - WEEKEND SHOOT + WRAP UP PARTY

A weekend away at Jeju island. With you. 

Sunghoon’s heart leaped from his chest.

Jeju island was a tourist spot most notably known for its beach resorts, pearl blue ocean water, and unique cuisine. For most, it’s considered a home away from home, a paradise to let your hair down, to destress from the chaos of life. 

For you, however, it’s a different story. 

“There must’ve been some mistake!” Your manager’s voice echoed through the hotel lobby. You still managed to hear her loud and clear despite sitting across the large room. “You mean there’s no room booked?”

The hotel staff only glared back at your manager, face deadpan. “I’m sorry ma’am, I don’t see your name on the list. We’re fully booked at the moment. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

With a huff escaping her lips, your manager treks back to your figure, her shoulders slumped to the ground. You didn’t even need to ask. Based on her defeated demeanour, and the fact that you overheard the whole conversation from where you sat, you understood; you had no place to stay. Here you were; in the paradise of Jeju Island, homeless for the weekend. Stress washed over you.

Your manager whips her phone out, swiping aggressively as she buried her face into the screen. “I’m so sorry, y/n, but we’re gonna have to find a motel tonight. I’ll look for the nearest one right now.” 

“That isn’t necessary, miss.”  A voice perks up behind you. A voice that needed no introduction as your frame froze in its place. Sunghoon sauntered away from his visibly worried manager, and towards your sunken figures, hands nonchalantly in his pockets. “You two can stay with me and my manager.”  

You choked. What sick game was Sunghoon playing? 

Your manager politely waves her hands to refuse, but you quickly step in, hands crossed over your puffed chest as an act of defence. You barely even managed to keep steady eye contact. “We don’t want your help. A motel will do just fine.”

“No one should have to pay extra just for a motel,” Sunghoon reasons, not backing down. “We also booked the deluxe suite; there’s plenty of room for the four of us.” 

Your manager’s resolve quickly faded away the moment Sunghoon mentioned paying extra for a last minute room. Her eyes grew wary, shaky. The harsh reality of finances crashing down on her in an instant. She wasn’t going to give in so easily, was she? 

She was.

She looked at you with doe-like eyes. “We should accept their offer, y/n. It’s only for the weekend.”

Before you knew it, you and your bags were being taken up to the top floor of the hotel. Into the deluxe suite that belonged to the one and only Park Sunghoon.

A defeated sigh. It was the only reaction your body could muster amidst the sheer buffoonery of your current situation. Being forced to room with the man that drove you crazy; how's that for comedy?

You shot up from the edge of the bed, the thought of your depressing situation suddenly parching your throat. You pivot towards the kitchen, attempting to pay no mind to the series of zips and rummaging of luggage currently happening in the living room. You didn’t want to give Sunghoon the light of day, even if he was just innocently unpacking his suitcase. 

Crisp ice water slides down your throat as your eyes wander. Stubbornly. Eventually landing on the man you swore you would ignore. 

His eyes were on you, too.  

You quickly dart away, your heart beating rapidly.

Sunghoon roughly clears his throat, the sound echoing around the walls of the living room. You glance back, watching him cling unto the nape of his neck with one hand, while the other loosely tosses a card onto the armrest of the couch. Almost immediately after, Sunghoon turned away from you. “Here’s the second keycard—your manager forgot to pick it up before she left.” 

You only nodded, shuffling over to retrieve it. Of course he didn’t consider throwing it somewhere actually close to you.

The closer you got to the furniture, the more Sunghoon’s belongings appeared before you. His sweaters and shirts were folded in a neat and compact manner and sitting at the corner of the couch, his towel draped over the backrest. Miscellaneous items were littered across the surface of the couch, items you didn’t pay much attention to. Except for one.

A polaroid stuck out of Sunghoon’s wallet. You checked to see if Sunghoon was watching before snatching it away. It was an image of a younger Sunghoon standing in the middle, holding up a cake as frosting was smudged on his nose and cheek. A wide grin was plastered on his face as other trainees surrounded him. You were in the picture, too, right by his side as you held onto one side of the cake. A finger covered in frosting suggests that you were the culprit of his smudged face. He didn’t seem to care, considering Sunghoon’s cheeky grin was directed at you. Devil horns were drawn on Sunghoon’s head, and a messy heart was traced around your face. 

A date was etched into the bottom of the polaroid. 12/08/2018. Sunghoon’s birthday; the last birthday he had before leaving the company. Your eyes widen, heart racing.

Why would he keep something like this?

“You still have this?” Your voice trembled. Sunghoon’s head whips back to find you holding the polaroid, his eyes widened in surprise. He treks over to you, swatting the picture away from your hands. “What are you doing!?”

You fidget with your fingers, eyes gazing on the carpet. How long has he had that picture? What did that mean? You look up at Sunghoon once again, slow steps bringing you closer to his frame. 

“Why do you still have this?”

“I just do.” Sunghoon’s eyes held yours hostage. He didn’t say much, yet the weight of his stare was enough to move worlds.

His eyes quickly diverted from your gaze as he continued to unpack. You nipped at your lip; Sunghoon’s answer wasn’t enough. Questions spiralled in your head. Your world was unravelling before you. You retired back to your room, your back keeping the door shut. Your face was flushed, your chest heaved. 

What was Park Sunghoon doing to you? 

“We’ll have you two start from the couch and then move onto the bed. We’ll end the scene when Sunghoon takes his shirt off.” Your director instructs, his hands blocking the scene directions on your last official filming session. 

Normally, you would’ve been elated at that fact. However, if this trip has proven anything to you, it's that the universe wants you to suffer. And so, this exciting final scene you were currently stuck filming was none other than a steamy makeout session between the two main characters at a romantic getaway. 

Fear shot down your spine, your brain hot-wiring at that very moment. You were already overwhelmed with the revelation that Sunghoon’s polaroid from last night brought you. By then, your heart was already leaping from your chest. The last thing you needed was to lock lips with the man responsible for your malfunctioning brain. 

Nevertheless, you hiked towards the couch like a mindless drone. You’ve given up on fighting for what you want. Sitting on the couch, you suddenly grew overwhelmingly conscious of your clothes—or lack thereof. You dawned a tank top etched in lace trim, shorts of the same pattern, and a satin robe to cover your arms. You knew that this outfit was necessary for the scene, but that didn’t stop fear from shooting down your spine.

Sunghoon soon joins you on the couch, dawning a simple white button down, with a few buttons undone—exposing his bare chest. Instinctively, you hug your chest, shielding your skin with the satin fabric of your robe. You caught a glance of his collarbones, the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. Heat creeped against your cheeks. 

Sunghoon averted his gaze from you, yet you still felt as though all attention was within your grasp. His hand rested on his knee, fingers fidgeting the wrinkles of his trousers. 

“Tell me if you get uncomfortable, alright? I’ll stop—even if the scene isn’t finished.”

There he was, reassuring you like the caring asshole he is. Your heart leaped.

“Okay.”

It didn’t take long before your lips were snug against his, his weight overpowering yours as he moved to lay on top of you. Sunghoon’s hand snaked against your jaw, gently creeping further to the back of your head to provide you a makeshift headrest. Your hands reached up around his neck and his shirt collar, pulling his frame closer against your exposed chest. Sunghoon’s skin was warm. His other hand grips your waist, a finger poking beneath your shield of fabric. His touch was soft.

Your heart was pounding so hard, it pulsated through your ears.

This was just a scene, you reminded yourself. 

Your breaths grew hazy as Sunghoon lifted your frame into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his hips instantly—clockwork. In just a few steps, Sunghoon’s knees reached the edge of the bed. He laid you back down gently, your frame sinking into the plush of the bed. Your arms refused to let go, holding him closer for more kisses. Your stomach flipped in on itself. Sunghoon gently pulled himself away, standing up straight. You watched as his hands trailed up to the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning them one by one. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

Within seconds, Sunghoon slipped the white fabric off of his broad shoulders, tossing it aside before bending back down to meet your lips once more. Your fingertips grazed against his skin tracing his shoulder blades. His skin grew warmer against your touch, as if you were lighting him on fire.

This was just a scene, you reminded yourself once more.

“CUT!” Your director’s voice pierced through your ears, pulling you back to reality. Sunghoon immediately jumps off of you, trekking off to retrieve his shirt back. His back was turned towards you, but a quick glance could confirm his cheeks were currently flaring red. You, however, couldn’t say much on the matter—you were in even more of a mess than he was. 

The two of you linked eyes for a split second, tension fogging up the air around you. All while your heart was still pounding so loud your ears could hear. 

Distracted. Park Sunghoon was distracted. And it was all thanks to you. 

The spice of liquor scratched against his throat, the ice cubes kissing his lips. He huffed a sigh, running a hand through his hair for the umteenth time that evening of the wrap up party. He didn’t even bother listening to the boring speech his director was giving, or anyone else who was talking that night—it all washed away, like grains of sand parallel to a body of water. 

Sunghoon couldn’t figure out what exactly was causing this feeling. Maybe it was the fact that he so foolishly let you stay over in his hotel room. Now, he was stuck sleeping just a few paces away from the woman he loved but couldn’t have. Torture. He gulped down another sour sip. Or maybe it was the way you kissed him that afternoon. Even if it was just for a simple scene, the way you melted into his lips made Sunghoon wish everything was real. Maybe he was drunk on your kisses, and a little bit of booze, too. 

His eyes wandered, only to be led straight to you. With a glass of wine in your hand, you stood in a small huddle consisting of your manager and a few other faces Sunghoon couldn’t recognize. 

Maybe it was the way you glistened without the need for any light. You lit the dim banquet hall up with your smile. The smile Sunghoon missed so dearly.

Another gulp.

Or maybe it was the way you wouldn’t even spare Sunghoon a glance since the wrap up party. The way he had let himself get carried away trying to get close to you, and ultimately driving you further away. Maybe Sunghoon just needed to finally accept everything. 

A distraction. You needed a distraction. From Park Sunghoon, specifically.

Park Sunghoon had unwantedly staked his claim on your brain for longer than you wanted. The man you knew to be selfish and cruel, willing to break your friendship in the blink of an eye, was turning your world upside down. He was caring for you, ensuring your comfort, putting you first. It all confused you, set your brain into overdrive. 

And that polaroid. The picture the size of your palm, capable of burning everything you knew into flames of the unknown. It left you with endless questions; though one stood out like a sore thumb. 

Did Sunghoon miss you?

That was an absurd thought. 

Nevertheless, it was a thought that nipped and itched at your brain for the rest of the evening, and you needed a way out. Your first course of action was to hide. Sitting at a table that was oceans away from where Sunghoon and his manager sat during your director’s long and drawn out speech. Shoving and squeezing yourself into groups of people you barely knew; you basically trailed your manager around like a lost puppy. 

When you weren’t wandering around aimlessly, however, you were tucked away in the washrooms, calling Kiri as you sat hunched over on a closed toilet seat, whisper-shouting as you explained the escalated situation.�� 

“Just ask him, y/n.” Kiri huffed over the phone. “It’ll give you peace of mind.”

“I can’t just approach him!”

“Why not?”

“I dunno, I just can’t think straight around him! He’s constantly on my mind and he drives me crazy! I think my blood pressure spikes the moment I’m near him—”

“y/n?” Kiri interrupts. You gulp. “Yeah?”

“Do you like Sunghoon?”

You choked, turning a few heads of guests washing their hands at the bathroom sink. Was Kiri being serious? You didn’t like Sunghoon. He drove you clinically insane, he was so unpredictable it made you want to rip your own hair out. Whenever you were around him, your heart stubbornly danced beneath your chest, your mind went haywire.

Oh god. 

You liked Park Sunghoon.

“I-I have to go.” You hung up at the speed of light. 

You didn’t need a distraction. You needed answers. 

Stepping out of the bathroom, you scanned the venue. Your eyes landed on a glass of wine resting in someone’s hand. Your eyes then pivot to the open bar, empty and barren. A lightbulb springs from your head. 

The last thing Sunghoon expected to see tonight was you, piss drunk and toppled over on the counter of the open bar. 

Your face was hidden in the nest of your forearms, your hair was messy and spread out. Sunghoon was positive a strand or two had fallen into your mouth. Peaking through the bush of your hair, Sunghoon gazed at your droopy eyes, eyelids practically sealed shut by fatigue. Empty glasses outlined your figure, but you couldn’t bother to pay it any mind. The outside world didn’t matter when you were this drunk. 

That was the problem. You couldn’t care less about your surroundings; it was dangerous. 

Sunghoon nipped at his lips, his eyes holding onto your frame like his life depended on it. He knew leaving you alone and unattended was irresponsible, that it would place your life in grave danger. You were smack dab in the middle of a social event, strangers littered all around you. Anything could happen at any moment. 

Nevertheless, Sunghoon also knew your current resolve when it came to him. He knew you hated him, you couldn’t stand being near him. A hand ran through his hair. Would he even be of any help?

Sunghoon sighed, drilling his hands through his pockets. Someone else could probably help you just fine. You probably didn’t need him. 

In 3 seconds he changed his mind.

A fire burned in his chest, his jaw tensing as he saw your passed out frame. Sunghoon marched over to your seat, his blazer slipping off of his shoulders and into his hands. Sunghoon soon spread the blazer over your shoulders, which were exposed and laced with goosebumps from the air-conditioned room. He caught the attention of people passing by when he pulled your frame up by your shoulders, gently resting your head against his chest as he swung down to pick up your legs. He swung your frame away from the open bar and out of the banquet hall. 

He trudged towards the hotel elevators, your figure slumped in his arms. He couldn’t help but glance at your sleeping frame. 

Even now, you looked beautiful as ever. 

Opening your eyes, you were greeted with two things; the hotel room’s ceiling, and Park Sunghoon’s blazer enveloping your torso. 

Your stomach was flipping in on itself, your heart racing. It actually worked. Your suspicions were right. Park Sunghoon actually brought you to your hotel room—your and his room, anyway. 

To say that you didn’t feel just a little bit guilty would be a big understatement. Pretending you were drunk out of your mind at an open bar, hoping the man you just found out you had feelings for would see you and take you to his room just to test whether or not he cared for you—maybe it wasn’t the best idea. You, however, were desperate. You needed to know where Sunghoon’s heart stood.

As you rose up into a sitting position, A figure shuffled into the room. A figure that needed no introduction.

“You’re not really drunk, are you?” Sunghoon accused, a hand dropping a glass of water gently onto the desk left of his hips. You only gulp, murmuring your response. 

“M-maybe.”

Exasperated, Sunghoon heaves a deep sigh. His head is thrown back, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. You watched as he shuffled over to you, his figure plopping onto the edge of your bed. 

“Don’t scare me like that!”

Sunghoon’s eyes held you hostage, boring into you. As if he was reaching into your soul and claiming it as his own. You, however, stood still, in a trance. Unable to move under his presence. A blanket of silence fell on top of you—it was so silent you could hear your heartbeat pulsating in your ears. Quickly, you snap out of your trance, eyes severing the contact as you scurried away from his frame. 

“Then don’t get so scared.” you spat defensively.

Sunghoon clung onto the nape of his neck. “How could I not? It’s dangerous—”

“Just—stop it already!” you snapped, interrupting him as your palms pushed into the mattress. “Stop getting scared for me, caring for me—stop that!”

Sunghoon's eyes gaze down at his feet before trailing up to meet yours. As you continue, your eyes couldn’t help but follow suit, hanging onto his gaze like your life depended on it. You shoot up from your spot on the bed, your heart stuck in your windpipe as you towered over him.

“You’re supposed to hate me! Call me names, make fun of me. Instead, you’re this caring, sweet guy that I can’t stop thinking about! I mean, we’re supposed to be enemies. You know, when you left the agency that day; when you left me that day, I swore I would hate you with all my heart. How the hell are you gonna be my enemy when my heart races at the thought of you? If you’re all that's on my mind?”

You gulp. “How the hell am I supposed to hate you when I like you so much?” 

“You like me?”

A hand slapped over your mouth. Sunghoon’s eyes widened as he gazed up at you. His jaw practically grazed the floor. He blinked a few times as your heartbeat pounded again in your ears. 

“Leaving the agency was never my choice.” Sunghoon’s voice was hushed.

What?

Slowly you sat down. Sunghoon watched you, his eyes holding yours hostage the entire time you sunk down onto your side of the bed. 

“I know that this sounds like some sick excuse, but I never wanted to leave. The CEO saw how close we were during our days as trainees, and thought that it would threaten our careers if we ever had any rumours spread about us.” A hand brushed over Sunghoon’s hair. “So, he asked me to leave. The CEO had no plans on telling you about any of this, so I had to keep it from you, too.”

Suddenly, Sunghoon slid off of the bed, kneeling before your figure. He gazed up at you once more. “I’m sorry—for everything.”

Your heart was racing. Sunghoon continued. “I’m sorry for keeping the truth from you, for leaving you that day. None of that would’ve happened if I was careful, if my heart wasn’t so stubborn.”

“What are you saying?” Your voice trembled. 

Sunghoon heaved a deep sigh. “I liked you, y/n. I liked you so much that I could barely keep it in, barely keep composure. I tried my hardest to get over you, but it was no use.”

Sunghoon’s eyes glistened under the amber hotel lights. “I knew my feelings for you only grew.”

A thread hung in the balance as the two of you continued to stare into each other’s eyes—a thread you wouldn’t dare sever, never in this lifetime. You watched as they sparkled; held the stars beneath their surface. You watched as they stared lovingly at you, yet hungry for you all at the same time. You also watched as your own hands grew minds of their own, reaching out to Sunghoon’s cheek before stopping mid-air. “Sunghoon?”

“Hm?”

“I think I need to kiss you.”

As he pressed your trembling hands up against his soft cheek, Sunghoon’s lips folded up into a grin, his voice melting like honey. “I’m all yours.”

Park Sunghoon tasted sweet against your lips— Sweet floral scents, most likely his cologne, puffed out from his frame as you held him close. You snaked an arm around his neck, fingers clinging around the nape. His palms hooked onto your waist, fingertips digging into your skin. As if you were minutes away from leaving his touch; he wasn’t about to let that happen again. Your grip on him grew tighter, too. You didn’t want him slipping from your fingertips either. Never again. 

A part of you felt warm and fuzzy; this kiss was real. 

With his weight overtaking you, Sunghoon leans further into the kiss, his lips pushing deep into yours. Your shoulders press deep into the plush of the mattress as his figure shells over you, shielding you from the outside world. Fireworks pop against your skin. Your stomach flips in on itself each time Sunghoon nibbles at your bottom lip; teasing you. Your hands roam around his back, tracing each bump and crevice of his body, relishing in his touch. His palm cradled your head, lacing between your hair strands. It was as if you were floating on a cloud. 

With one swipe of his tongue at your lips, Sunghoon deepened your kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. His movements grow rash, fierce. As if he’d been starving for centuries; and you were his next meal. His hand glides up and down your waist, your skin tight dress doing nothing to conceal the friction. Heat bundles up between your legs.

You wanted more.

A moan slips from your lips, entrapped in your kiss. That, however, didn’t stop Sunghoon from hearing you loud and clear; from igniting a flame within his chest. With you, his mind was a ticking bomb. Gently, Sunghoon pushes away from the kiss, his breath hazing against your lips. His eyes flickered open, immediately gazing down at you. 

“How far are we going, tonight?” Sunghoon huffed. “I’m not moving until you tell me.”

Your fingers traced his muscles. They were tense and flexed; he was clearly restraining himself. Stopping himself from indulging in you like some beast. You gazed up at him. The way his collar bones peaked through his neckline, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink; as if he was drunk on your presence. The way his hair hung over his starry eyes. 

You’ve never felt more certain of something in your life.

Your hand cradled Sunghoon’s cheeks. “I want you, Hoonie. All of you.

At the sound of your nickname, Sunghoon’s eyes grew hungry, dark as he harshly pressed into your lips. His tongue slid up against yours. They tangle, intertwine; eliciting another mewl from your lips. Sunghoon was certain his brain short circuited at your voice. Slyly, Sunghoon pressed his knee against your inner thigh, outlining its frame before slowly inching closer to your centre. The pressure sent shivers down your spine, your back instinctively arching forwards. Like you were aching to be closer, to hold him tighter. 

Sunghoon’s knee pressed further into your clothed core; one that was practically soaked. He moved the knee up and down, left to right; your brows furrowed in euphoria. A full, booming moan echoed, earning a needy grunt from the man who drove you insane. 

“That sound is driving me crazy, baby.” Sunghoon gritted through his teeth. “Moan more for me, yeah?” 

You didn’t even need to try. 

Slowly, Sunghoon peppered kisses down your jaw, sucking against your searing skin. With a hand at the small of your back, Sunghoon lifts you up from the bed, his hand trailing up and fiddling with the zipper of your dress. He pulls the zipper down, and you’ve never been more grateful for built-in bra pads. His lips, however, never once breached contact, his lips gently migrating down to your collar bones, your chest, and eventually the swell of your breasts. Your breath hitched as you felt his warmth circulate your nipples. Sunghoon takes a breast into his lips, his tongue swirling and flicking against your stiffened. You whimper at the contact, your core pooling in lust.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

After blindly searching for his hand, you tug on his wrist, positioning it between his thighs. Sunghoon smirked against your skin, the vibrations of his chuckle shuddering through your body—he heard you, loud and clear. After pulling down the rest of your dress, Sunghoon feathers his touch against your inner thighs, teasing you. You throw your head back, swimming in ecstasy. 

Softly, too soft, he drew circles around your clothed pussy. He grazed against your clit, driving you crazy. For a split second, Sunghoon parted his lips from your skin, moving up to meet your ear. “Where do you want my fingers, darling?”

You whimper, trying to find the words as Sunghoon toyed with your folds beneath the fabric. “In—fuck—inside. Please.” 

In an instant, Sunghoon pushed aside the measly fabric, finding your core dripping in heat; dripping for him. A digit slides into your folds, exploring your walls. He pumps his finger slowly, in and out as your back arches in desire. Your body spazzed and jolted. His knuckles grazed against your walls as he pumped faster and faster. Sunghoon slyly pushes in another finger, and then another, stretching your pussy around the width. You felt every inch of him, every section of his skin. As his pumps grow faster, harsher, Sunghoon’s fingers curl inwards, hitting your spot. 

You couldn’t keep in your noises, your lew moan bouncing against the walls, the same way your hips bounced against his fingers. In a weak effort to quiet down, you bite your finger. Sunghoon, however, quickly notices, gripping your hand by the wrist. “Don’t—I wanna hear you, princess.” 

You only whimper a response, your legs growing further apart with each pump of his fingers. A knot begins to crumple together at the pit of your stomach, your moans growing louder and louder. You found yourself shouting Sunghoon’s name without realising it, gripping into his skin. Sunghoon dips his hips against your bare core, pressing his digits further into you. You felt a tenting sensation against your core. 

The knot grew tighter and tighter as Sunghoon’s pumps grew hasty and messy. Wet sloshes echo in the room, though they were overpowered by your lust-ridden mewls. Sunghoon grinds into you, the metal of his belt buckle shocking your core frozen. 

“Cum on me, princess.” Sunghoon demands.

On cue, the knot finally pops open, and juices drip out of your pussy as you scream out his name. It coated your walls, his fingers, even the bed beneath you. Sunghoon made sure you watched as he took his dirty fingers into his mouth, sucking your sweet juices dry. 

“How much more can you handle, baby?” Sunghoon askes between huffs. You glance down, the zipper of his pant’s barely holding in the tent beneath his pants. You only nod, lust hazing over your eyes. Sunghoon smiles, kissing your temple. “Good. We’re not even close to done, princess.”

In a few swift moments, Sunghoon unbuckled his pants. You watched as the fabric dropped down to his knees, his length revealing itself. Your eyes gawked at the sight, earning only a chuckle from Sunghoon as he brought your wrist up to his lips.

“Only you make me like this, y/n.” He kissed your skin. 

An ache clouded your pussy. Suddenly, you felt empty, needy. You needed him. You mewl, gaining his attention in an instant. “I need your cock, Hoon.”

Rolling a condom around his dick, Sunghoon positions his tip at your entrance. You send a signal before Sunghoon presses into you. You throw your head back, eyes rolling to the heavens at the contact. His cock filled you up, grazing and sliding against your walls. Your skin slaps against each other with each slow thrust, the dirty noises filling up the room. Sunghoon throws your legs over his shoulders, giving him more access to your wet, needy pussy. Your hands gripped the sheets; anything to stay tethered to reality. 

Sunghoon’s thrusts grow messy and rough. That familiar knot bundles up beneath your stomach as an idea pops into your mind. 

“Can I go on top?” You huff breathlessly. Sunghoon gulps, covering his embarrassed face with the back of his palm. “Y-yeah. Please.”

You and Sunghoon clamour around to switch positions, reaching for random kisses back and forth. Your back faced him, your ass grinding against his abs, your shoulder blades rubbing against his chest. Slowly, you sink onto his dick, your folds enveloping his throbbing length. Sunghoon grunts closely behind you, concealing his sounds with kisses against your neck. His hands roam around you; digging into your hips, fondling your breasts. Though, it was the mischievous massaging of your clit that sent your brain to short circuit. You bounced on his cock faster, your and his moans intertwining in the night air. 

“You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of this, princess,” Sunghoon strained. “Of you bouncing on my cock—shit—just like that.”

His words send butterflies through your stomach. Your pussy clamps down on his cock as the two of you scream each other’s name. You weren’t far from your second climax of the night. One more bounce against his dick sent your juices overflowing. Sunghoon’s pools up at the tip of his condom. Slowly, you pull away from his length, plopping down beside him on the bed, huffing from exhaustion. Sunghoon lays down with you, cradling his frame in your arms. 

“That was amazing.” You hum into his skin. Sunghoon traces small shapes along your bare back. “You were amazing, baby.”

Suddenly, the jingle of keys sound from across the hotel room. 

Your managers. They were back from the party.

Uh oh.

“You realise how dangerous this is, right?” Your CEO pinches his nose bridge, leaning back into his office chair. “The press won’t react lightly to this.”

You and Sunghoon glanced at each other, shoulders pressed against one another as you stood before your CEO. Sweat beaded from your forehead. Though, you had every right to be nervous; you were currently asking for permission to go public with Park Sunghoon. The man you loved most. 

“Yes—” 

“Let me finish,” Your CEO raised his hand. “But, seeing as though you both are highly regarded and successful artists, and no longer trainees—I’ll allow it.”

The two of you lit up, immediately gazing at each other with smiles. You cling onto one another in a sweet embrace. As he only half-payed attention to your CEO’s orders of letting his company know, Sunghoon peppers kisses on your cheek. 

Sunghoon pushes your hair behind your ear, smiling. “You’re finally mine, baby.”

[halfagone]

The Danny Phantom fandom fascinates me. That's the only word I can think of when I consider the fandom's behavior on certain subjects. It's just. Fascinating. Genuinely.

If you know me, I am a huge Danny Phantom fan. But I am also a huge DC fan, and spend most of my time in the crossover community, DPxDC. Something that I've noticed in this position, standing in two different fandoms, is their treatment of specific tropes and AUs. One of the biggest ones I've noticed is Alpha/Beta/Omega AUs, otherwise known as Omegaverse AUs.

DC has tons and tons of Omegaverse AUs, Batfam fics in particular have some of the sweetest platonic/found family verses under this AU umbrella. The Danny Phantom fandom, on the other hand, generally stays away from this AU. I've seen a lot of reasons why, and I know it can be a large squick for some people, and that's totally fine.

However.

However, DP fans will do something different, and instead take bits and pieces from Omegaverse tropes and change it into DP lore. The biggest example I can think of is fraids. What are fraids, you might be asking? Fraids are essentially packs, just... ghost-style. What do I mean by this?

Fraids = Packs.

Fraidmates = Packmates.

Fraid bonds = Pack bonds.

The similarities are very obvious once you sit down to think about it.

Of course fraids tend to be based more on platonic bonds, but as stated above, packs can be entirely platonic as well. The large number of found family fics seen in the Batman fandom is evidence of this too. So it's really fascinating to me that DP just chose to instead create this whole fraid concept.

Is it because of Omegaverse AUs' reputation? Is it because people wanted a more obvious way of distinguishing platonic fraids to the so-called sexual packs? I have seen multiple fics with the concept of fraids that were very sexual, so that might not be the case.

I don't know, it's just... fascinating.

In the DPxDC fandom I've seen a brand new emergence of this as well. Of course, thanks to the DP side of things, we also have the fraid concept, but more and more recently I've seen a new trope called "Mom Danny".

I will be transparent and say that I do not like the Mom Danny concept, but I will try to offer my observations with an objective eye.

In all the times I've viewed the Mom Danny concept or prompts, one thing stands out to me: Danny is feminized in one way or another. He's called a twink, his smaller stature and short size are over-emphasized, in some cases he's GNC and wears skirts and dresses, or he's trans and writers will lean into his AFAB characteristics. And that is startlingly like omegas in Omegaverse. On top of that, Sam becomes "Dad", since she's the more butch member of the pair. So she's an alpha to Danny's omega.

We've come full circle and gone back to gender stereotypes.

It's so, so fascinating.

[partyanimal167]

Okay so I SHOULD be working on the next chapter of my Miguel fic...and I promise I am. But I can't stop thinking about this post from @luxthestrange with my lovely man, Crocodile (also ignoring the fact that I'm behind on updating his fic by alot...) So here's a little something to get the writer vibes flowing

cw: none, blurb, one-sided pining, gn reader

Sir Crocodile x Ex-Secretary!Reader

You never thought that you'd end up having a WANTED poster, but you made some questionable choices as a youth which made entering the 'normal' world extremely hard and ultimately not worth it after awhile.

You did managed to get a desk job, but that didn't last long when it was revealed to have owed some money to a dangerous, business-smart pirate named Sir Crocodile. Amidst the raid, you were called out by said captain as it was your questioning of the numbers and certain other connections that brought some attention to what your then-boss was doing. (Oops). Either way, you expected to get interrogated then disposed of.

You got a handshake and job offer instead.

Now of course, you didn't immediately join Crocodile's side, but he noticed your attention to details and ease of conversing with even the seemingly shadiest of connects. Crocodile didn't think you were a pirate, but you certainly weren't a normal civilian either.

The secretary offer came after Crocodile witnessed you boldly standing up to one Warlord (Doffy) when he tried to barge into Crocodile's office while he was on a phone call. You were merely passing by. But you knew that Sir Crocodile didn't like to be interrupted, and the secretary then wasn't holding his place against the giant man.

Doflamingo was pissed. But Crocodile approved.

So then started the years of partnership and endless work where you kept tabs and details organized for Crocodile's use while you were rewarded in both finances and work benefits.

You enjoyed it, so you were a bit let down when things hit the fan and your boss in jail.

However, you were able to start an underground consulting business while hiding from the Marines. It was quite successful. When news came of Crocodile's escape, it was easy enough to track him down and send him a wealth of information ranging from old contacts to accounts that were still untouched. As a courtesy...

Sir Crocodile was quick to send over a bouquet of flowers and a beautiful invitation to welcome you back to working for him. You gracefully declined citing your new business adventure and gave warm wishes.

And so started a relentless array of attempts of winning you back. Several initial consultations for 'new clients' were just lunches of the man trying to convince you. Each time, you'd just sit and listen before taking the check for your time. Gifts of your favorite fragrances, coffees, pastries, and the like were always welcoming you either home or to your office. It did surprise you a bit how much the man knew about you. Your actual clients seemed to nervous to be caught between you both since Crocodile was trying to scare them off, and you were stern in getting your demands and continuing your work.

After some time though, it had been silent. You caught wind of Crocodile's new partners, and you felt some relief that others were able to take on and work with the man. Things would be easier now. You'd both cross paths maybe as partners or each other's clients in the future.

A knock at the door rattles your calm evening and tea. You stood from your living room and peek out your peephole. However, you didn't see anything. You were just about to walk away when you could've sworn you smelled a familiar robust smoke and opened the door.

You nearly gasped when you see Crocodile on his knees with the largest ramo of lilacs, Adam's needles, and roses you'd ever seen--although they were on the ground under his hand. He looked up at you with both desire, stress, and relief.

He puffed out his smoke before yanking out his cigar and pleading. "You are the most competent, skilled, and amazing person I know. I need you back in my life even more now. Please dear, come back to me."

~~~

Teehee

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Pre-TLOU Writers Archive

A resource for finding pre-TLOU Pedro Pascal characters fics

Hey everyone, this is just an idea that randomly struck me. I joined the fandom fairly recently in 2022, but as we all know, our numbers have well and truly exploded since TLOU aired.

We are incredibly lucky that our fandom has a massive treasure trove of fics written by so many amazing writers in the last few years, especially for pre-Joel Pedro boys that new fans are now discovering. However, new readers will probably have hard time finding these fics because nothing about Tumblr is set up to efficiently find any fic, let alone 'older' fics published months and years ago.

Since there's been such a huge influx of new readers in the fandom who may be looking for new-to-them 'old' fics to read, I thought it would useful to start a list of writers who have been writing for Pedro boys since before TLOU aired to connect newcomers to ‘older’ fics. I'm starting with writers that I have personally read or know of, but please do drop me an ask or a DM if you would like to add or be added to the list (or removed from it)!

We have more than 100 writers listed in alphabetical order in the lists below. Please show them and their fics some love - follow, reblog, send asks and DMs! ❤️

A to H

I to O

P to Z (Part 1)

P to Z (Part 2)

Some admin:

*I am only including writers who have written for Pedro Pascal characters before TLOU aired. If I can't find a masterlist, then I can't add them to the list.

*If I missed anyone or accidentally left someone out in my screening process, please let me know! I'm only human.

*In case anyone twists this into something it's not, it goes without saying that there's always room for new fics and new writers! But the recency bias has been so strong these few months, I want to give some love to 'older' fics, especially pre-Joel Pedro boys ❤️

[ham1lton]

you said u read ao3 fics! what are your f1 recs?

ahhh!!!!! this is the best question you could have ever asked me like ever i love you so much. i’ve been dying to talk abt this for a hot minute. i opened myself up to any sort of ship mostly because i cared more abt the fic quality then the ship you know? kinda glad i did it because my fav ones are not necessarily ships i am a fan of. it’s really long so i put it under a read more!!

okay so number one has to be the fic that was my first fav f1 fic. this is steal the air out of my lungs (make me feel it). now this has a lot of elements that i love. guy who’s in his own head vs other guy who’s also in his own head but pretends he isn’t. also idk why but i’m always a sucker for a good medical au and this one fucking delivers!!! another maxiel fic i read was three rounds and a sound which has coffee shop owner daniel w/ stressed out student max. a lot of introspection but it’s also unfolding while the romance is. idk i just love this. it’s so good. last maxiel fic is come on, star boy which is a alt universe where daniel is the american guy he always wanted to be and max is the new transfer to his small town’s football team. it isn’t just incredibly written but everyone feels so real and vivid. i can visually see this in my mind everytime i read it. i listened to a lot of ethel cain while reading so that helped. i love this so much and the brocedes in the background?? you’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves youuu 🗣️

i’m not really a landoscar girl, i’m gonna be honest. however, where i am going is right where i am, is just incredible. alt universe where the drivers live on a street version of stars hollow? brocedes that influence everything even though they’re long over? charles being insane over max? pierre hating on esteban every second that is possible (i was laughing every time he would just cuss his ass out unprovoked) and annoying george being their street’s version of gilmore girls’ taylor?? what more do u need in ur life?? also oscar in this fic is just my dream man. i think a croissant from him would fix me. actually i read a lot of this author’s landoscar fics and they’re so cute i was sending kudos as much as i can. like already home! just want to bite them both and put them in my pocket. they’re so obviously in love i want to shake them down and scream and smoosh them together. lawyer!oscar i love you. check out their profile!! incredible writer :)))

i’m also not a galex truther but the two of us, in sympathy is so cute!! rich boy!george with broke junior doctor!alex. george attempting to court alex and just absolutely failing. i love it. they’re such a mess i need them in my life. also this loscar future fic is so intense but incredible. i’m really bad at describing but i binged it on my train home and i was really glad i did - i promised to forget you now.

the reason i even got into f1 aka brocedes. this fic i think was one of the first i read. on the faultline which is just amazing. i can’t recommend it enough. read it if u can. another fav is a brocedes threesome with their toxic fucking each other via proxy aka new money, and it’s all cash. cute brocedes!! nico thinks lewis is his sworn enemy but everyone knows otherwise. roseberg’s vs haminkton. this was so cute and funny. cause why was nico saying lewis, the owner of a tattoo shop was stealing business from him… when he owns a florists… he’s so dramatic i want to tuck him in my pocket. this job will take my sole has the same premise but they’re both shoe shops which makes a lot more sense. i just love stupid rivalries and dramatic nico.

now back to my sweethearts, the lights of my life, the fires of my heart - sewis. all of these fics have past brocedes just for context. every tongue should confess talks about religion and queer identity in such a nuanced and delicate way? i adored this fic. transmotion which is another alt universe with fashion designer!lewis and footballer!sebastian both figuring out their careers, themselves and their relationship. maybe together we can get somewhere - this is an mpreg fic which usually isn’t for me but it’s about seb and lewis going on a road trip for an abortion and it’s so good. honestly the ending line of ‘it’s a good feeling, to know that sebastian’s outstretched hand is right there.’ it just stuck with me. i loved it. the numbering at bethlehem which is thee sewis fic to me. professor au?? this was made for me. like perfectly moulded. everything about this is art. i could do a full essay on this fic. just read it, it’s incredible. just amazing. sebastian as the child prodigy who has nowhere else to climb?? i love them both in this fic so much!!! tnab sewis get behind me!! i’m gonna protect u!!

okay i’m sorry this is so long. i just love art. i love writing. i just love the work these authors’ have spent putting together these masterpieces for free!! check them out!! leave kudos!! comment!! <3

[magpod-confessions]

alright got a new bone to pick with an anon who pulled up the tma transcripts as 'proof' Jon is completely celibate and said that people are 'trying to erase canon asexuality'

apologies for bringing up discourse but this person is just so. Noejvneojekjdcmekfv.

anon idk who you are but that. Is NOT the solid, concrete proof you think it is.

like.

out of context, yes, it means Jon doesn't have sex.

however IN context (and even a bit out of, bc of 'according to Georgie') it. Only really serves to gently imply, yes, Jon is ace. And the writers did in fact clarify, yes, Jon is ace, and fans can do with that fact what they please.

And I would like to remind y'all:

Melanie fucking hates Jon around the time this line is said. And she is getting her information from Georgie, who is Jon's EX, who hadn't spoken to him in YEARS.

it's second hand information.

it's not concrete.

hell, if the writers didn't even clarify that Jon was ace people would've probably just. Ignored the line all together bc it's SECOND HAND INFORMATION.

I love the fact that Jon is ace. And I love how a good chunk of his asexuality isn't really explain. Bc then we get to interpret things, and project.

no one is trying to say he's not actually ace. Especially not fic writers. Most smut writers who have Jon in their fics are themselves ace, and are projecting.

Anon, did we even listen to the same podcast? Bc I'm pretty sure a good chunk of it is understood from reading between the lines, and context clues, and understanding not every character knows everything at all times, and to take character accounts with a grain of salt especially when it comes to office gossip and that gossip ≠ gospel.

again, I am not trying to say "this is why Jon is allowed to fuck in fics" no im saying that to try and say these smut fics are erasing a sexuality that is hardly even mentioned and not at all really relavent to the whole story is just wrong. It's incorrect.

people are allowed to write what they write. You don't need a reason. And as readers it is NOT our place to go after creators who are writing what they please, especially when it isn't even in bad faith. It's also not our place to assume and "call out" people on baseless assumptions of them "trying to erase or explain away the TRUTH"

so yes, anon, it IS a vague and ambigouaous representation bc if you took even a moment to look back on s3 you'd realize that EVERYTHING IS VAGUE AND AMBIGUOUS BC WERE LISTENING TO THE VAGYE AND AMBIGUOUS PODCAST

Yes, Jon is ace.

yes, the writers said you can put any acespec label or hc on it, and that such is all valid.

yes, one character one time said Jon 'doesnt'

no, that doesn't mean that all writers or creators or artists or whatever have to abide by "doesn't."

again, mods, sorry to bring up discourse.

.

[toziers]

Are you ready to return to Derry?

This September 6th marks the five year anniversary of the release of It: Chapter 2. In honor of the monumental occasion, I ( @toziers) am hosting a content posting week that will run from Friday, September 6th to Friday, September 13th. All Losers-centered content, both writing and art, are welcome! The goal is to flood the tags with old fics you never got around to finishing, or art ideas that have been scratching at your brain for years. Additionally, there is no limit for how many works you'd like to post.

More information on how to sign up for posting blocks will be shared in the handy-dandy discord server in the coming weeks. This server is a place to connect with other artists/writers/fans, encourage each other through the pains of creation, or just generally cheerlead each other on! There will be admin-hosted movie nights to stream the original It content, as well as any movies the creators' AU's are based on. You do not need to participate in the final posting to join the discord. However, it is a 17+ server due to the nature of It: Chapter 2, which is a Rated R movie.

Click here to join the server - and please feel free to crosspost to other sites. We hope to see you comehomecomehomecomehome!

[killerlookz]

to my joost fic writers some lame ass blog is literally just rbing joost fics to complain abt ppl sexualizing him wahh wahh... just thought you guys should be warned <3

anyways... for those who feel offended by my blog's content, joost will literally never see my tumblr, so there's no need to "feel bad" for him, he literally has no clue who i am, and is living his day to day life completely unaffected by my, and any other writers work... and you rbing it, or bringing the work outside of tumblr is only bringing more attention to it- if he ever says he is uncomfortable with fics being written about him in this manner, i will obviously respectfully take them down <3 as i actually do respect him as a human being! im not some weird gross little freak who is actively trying to make him uncomfortable (and same can be said for the rest of the joost fic writers on here) contrary to what the twt and tiktok fans may believe

rpf has been apart of fandom forever, and i understand that this is definitely a debate that has been going on for awhile and people may absolutely have their own opinions and personal boundaries, YOU are not joost, nor are you any other celebrity- and therefore you cannot speak to what makes them comfortable or not, and it is not your job OR your place to make that decision for them.

please do not act like fic writers are actually being invasive or equate this to any sort of harassment, we aren't shoving this shit into joost's face, or forcing him to read these fics.

but this being said, i always tag rpf as such, and therefore, if rpf bothers you, literally just block the tag. people's tumblrs are THEIR personal space, it is not your job to police the internet for your fav! you literally have to ACTIVELY seek out these works to read it. there's a reason all my content is kept behind the "read more and tag rpf and smut" because i dont want you to see it if you DONT want to!! that's why it's hidden behind tags/read more because those "technically" act as consent for you to see the works.

but creating an ENTIRE blog to be weird abt fic writers is strange behavior! however i assume this person is probably a child and i will give them grace for that fact, and with that being said, you shouldn't be on NSFW blogs to begin with!

also please do not actively seek out content that upsets you!!!! it will do just that!!! upset you

[campbyler]

our chapters average at 27,000 words, the total fic length is already 3x the average novel length, and we lost one of the authors working on this fic. it must be so nice to only have to endure the wait for a chapter to be uploaded so that you can interact with it rather than being the one to actually write it.

im going to be cruel (no pun intended) to be kind: this is such an intense externalisation of blame. you are the ones in control of the fic length; the chapters could handle some heavy editing and it wouldnt make them any less wonderful (such as regarding the descriptions of mike and will's internal thoughts, not the action between the characters themselves). fic is free and its a gift to be able to read works that inspire our hearts and minds while we wait for the show, but then again, when at the stern of a juggernaut work such as this, one that will inevitably have many followers chomping at the bit on tumblr as well as ao3 (as you designed it to have!), you surely must be aware of something that only usually exists in professional marketing spaces involving customers + brand IP: the relationship between consumer and creator, and what they can give each other.

not 'owe each other' - nothing is owed, except perhaps basic human kindness. fans want your work, and its free, so we should be grateful; likewise, you want readers, feedback and clicks, and that should be free, too. but in order for this to work smoothly, there has to be fair give and take. i mean, if you wanted to monetize the fic i'm sure many people would pay to read it, but thats beside the point here.

what fans of this fic simply want is the same honesty and self-awareness from you that they might expect from any artist who has embarked on such am ambitious project. and this doesnt just mean transparency about potential uploading dates (which is already much appreciated by the majority!), or notifications about how hard it is to balance work and life (something most people on the planet struggle with). it means total honesty and hard answers. people like to know where they stand. plenty of writers (both professional and fan alike) abandon works for months, years at a time, and if the work is THAT good, people will always be thrilled to see a return. it's the mucking people about that is what destroys relationships - no matter how good your reasons are.

your fic is wonderful and very, very memorable. you could take a big, undefined hiatus and people would, im sure, return, including me. seeing you admit that you have been prioritizing this fic over your mental health does not inspire confidence either, or even comfort - do i want to read something that has caused the creator such harm?

i think everything about this process would be happier for everyone if you set boundaries that work for you and didn't place blame elsewhere. after all, as you said, it's just a fanfic. it doesnt matter if you don't finish it. it doesnt matter if it takes all the way to s5 for 10.2 to release. everyone would, though, appreciate you taking a stance and being consistent (and therefore fair) to both yourselves and the readers.

please feel free to not post this publicly or do as you wish with it.

hello! thank you for your feedback and for sharing it in a way that is both kind and respectful. you make many valid points that i agree with -- we are in control of the word counts and could stand to edit down more, and we do recognize where being transparent about the reasons behind the chapter delays might not inspire confidence or comfort. i do, however, think that isolating one response/chain of responses to a particular ask is a little unfair, so i'd like to provide additional context.

i do not think that it's fair to say that we haven't been honest, self-aware, or fair, because we have been incredibly transparent throughout the entire run of the fic (over a year) about our writing process. just last month suni said she hadn't been working on 10.2 at all because abby had been visiting her house, and readily took ownership of that fact. there was a 4-month wait between chapters 9.1 and 9.2, and i was very open about the fact that i simply needed a break for at least the first of those months because i didn't want to write it. we have continued to maintain several times that we are not abandoning the fic, even if it takes longer between chapters, and have tried to stay as active as possible on the blog because we know that seeing us interact with asks Does inspire confidence. if you just scroll down and see how we have answered other asks inquiring about the upload, we responded kindly and respectfully.

what you interpreted as externalization of blame in that one (1!) ask response was me trying to provide perspective to someone who clearly lacked it. we understand that people will be frustrated about chapter delays, especially if we keep pushing them back, and this is also something that we have received feedback about before and tried to implement; however, it is also a double-edged sword where if we don't give an estimated upload, people get upset, or we give an estimated upload that we think is completely reasonable for us to achieve and then hurdles get in the way, whether it's writer's block or work or time with friends. i absolutely get the frustration on the receiving end, but something i have learned from being in this fandom for two years is that a pretty big majority of those who are interacting with fanworks are not creating it themselves, hence why my response -- while snippy and annoyed, because i was matching the energy, and will not apologize for that -- was contextualizing the whys behind the chapter delay: the chapters are long, the fic is long, we are down one entire body from where we started. the intention was not to shuck blame off of ourselves, but i get that intentions don't always translate into effect, so it's understandable that it was received differently.

we don't always respond to things perfectly. when we have a million and one asks inquiring about the next upload, one stray one that comes off the wrong way is likely going to set us off, because we are people, and this is not a job. we have set a boundary by disabling anon, and again, i cannot stress enough how much i appreciate that you've come to us with this feedback off-anon and with respect and decency. i get where you are coming from and again, agree with a lot of your points.

the only other thing i want to make clear is that this fic, no matter how much attention its garnered, should not be treated as a creator/consumer relationship that mirrors anything where the exchange of money is involved. not only is it unfair to apply this standard to fanworks, where it is illegal to monetize such content, but the entire purpose of fanworks is to celebrate what you are a fan of together. when you apply expectations on either end -- i am a fan of this work, therefore, people should create timely content for it; i am creating this fanwork, therefore, people should interact with it -- defeats the entire nature of fan-created work as a whole. while we have continued to be vocally grateful for the love and support our fic has been shown, we both maintain that we would continue writing and continue uploading even if we were getting less than half of the amount of interaction that we do. it's nice to have interaction, but not necessary, because we what write and post is done because we love it, and it's shared so that we can look back on it, so our friends can enjoy it, and anyone else who might want to. we are, of course, excited to share that world with anyone who cares -- we created the blog and the promo because we wanted to share it -- but that does not mean that the relationship between us and our readers should have expectations. we are all creating and enjoying this work for free for the sake of love for the characters, as the star trek obsessed housewives of the 60s (and the law) have intended.

i feel like this response is a bit jumbled so i apologize if anything isn't clear or hard to understand. thank you again for your time!

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

SELF LOVE 101 (Gojo x Black!Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Black!Self-Insert!Reader (Coworkers to Lovers)

Synopsis: When you get invited to your coworker's Valentine's Day party, you have no intention of going. Especially since this particular coworker isn't exactly your cup of tea: Gojo Satoru is just too proud, too cocky, and too damn full of himself for a girl like you. But when you're persuaded to go and find yourself alone with him, Gojo will stop at nothing until you see that loving yourself is nothing to hate on. After all, a beautiful woman like you deserves to be loved on...especially on camera.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Coworkers to Lovers; Mild Enemies to Lovers; Secret Crush; Reader is a Self-Insert; Reader is Black, Fem & Plus-Sized; Foreplay; Mutual Oral; Spitting; Cunnilingus + Fingering; Deepthroating; Facefucking; Lipstick Marking; Heels On During Sex; Body Worship; Spanking; Begging; Dom!Gojo; sub!Reader; Breeding Position; Missionary; Dirty Talk; Eye Contact; Mutual Orgasm; Creampie; Reader Cums 2x; Sex on Camera/Nude Photos

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: A very special thank you to @curiouscutie143 for requesting my writing again for a V-Day special! I love writing about that sexy blue-eyed MFer & I hope you enjoy reading about him. -Jazz 🩷🩷🩷

**********

Commission Fan Art by greentforever on Fiverrrr

“So, V, you goin’ to Gojo’s Valentine’s Day party tonight?” 

You sit at your computer desk between the gray walls of your cubicle lined with photos of you with family, friends, and co-workers. One of them, your good friend Shoko, leans against the doorway to your cubicle in her black blazer, slacks that do nothing to hide her shapely ass, and blouse as red as her bold lip color. You, too, are dressed for the day of romance and love in your pink sweater paired with a black pencil skirt, nylon stockings, and pumps. 

She gives you an expectant smile as if she already knows your answer as she stirs sugar into her mug of coffee. You have your own coffee–iced despite the cold–that you sip as you sit at your desk, answering emails for the morning before the team meeting at 10 AM. This leaves you two hours to bullshit and gossip with Shoko which is one of your favorite points of the workday. “No,” you calmly reply. “You know I don’t do parties, Sho.” 

“But it’ll be with our coworkers,” Shoko protests. “You know these people! Gojo is inviting everyone from all of the departments, including our boss.” You inwardly roll your eyes behind your cat-eye glasses. Of course, Gojo would invite the bossman too. You always thought of him as a “boss’ pet” as well as a “people whore”, meaning he always makes it his mission to socialize and make everybody like him. Or maybe that’s just your strong distaste for his personality talking. 

“Sorry, girl,” you sigh, giving Shoko an apologetic smile. “It’s a no for me.” Shoko gives you a look between a glare and a pout. “Why? You’ve got plans? I wouldn’t doubt that your fine ass has a hot date.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you and snorts as you roll your eyes at her ridiculousness. 

Though you know that you’re a very attractive woman with your smooth, brown skin, plump frame, and an ass and rack that can stop traffic, you don’t do the dating thing. At least not right now. It’s too complicated. Too messy. Too distracting. You’re way too focused on your job, which you enjoy and are very good at, to be fooling around on dating sites and chasing after coworkers for some short-lived office romance. 

“Actually, yes, I do have plans,” you reply to your friend. “I have a date with my cat, TV, and Chinese takeout, thank you very much.” You then take a manila folder from the corner of your seat, stand from your chair, and give Shoko a tight-lipped smile. “Now, if you wanna continue pestering me with this, you’re gonna have to follow me to the scanner room.” 

And she does. She follows you, hot on your heels, as you walk through the office of cubicles holding your coworkers making calls, doing work, and sipping their morning coffee. She follows you into the scanner room with its dozens of scanning/printing/copying machines and boxes of extra office supplies. “Come on, V!” she groans. “I’ll be there too and we can have some fun! It would be the perfect time to work on your introvert tendencies.” 

You side-eye her as you begin to fire up the machine and put sheets into the scanner, one at a time. “A party isn’t gonna help with that,” you argue. “And it’s not like I don’t go out! I just don’t try to socialize with people I don’t know like you and…” Your words seem to die in your throat when you catch a glimpse of him through the scanning room’s doorway. 

You’ll never get over how tall Gojo is, standing a whole head taller than you with a lean, toned build that you can see even through his blue button-down shirt and slacks. His office attire is casual yet expensive-looking judging by his red bottom dress shoes. He keeps his locks of snow-white hair unstyled and slightly unruly as if he just rolled out of bed. It gives him a sexy look that you know drives so many of the girls in here crazy. Not to mention his voice––smooth, oh-so-sweet, and annoying like a song you’ve heard over and over again and can’t get out of your head. 

And then there are his eyes. They are an intense, electric blue that seems to shock you whenever you see them. Even now, when he turns his head slightly from chatting up a coworker, his eyes meet yours and you forget how to function. A small, crooked smile appears on his lips and he nods at you. You nod back in greeting––one of the only three ways you acknowledge each other. The other two are “good morning”s and unreadable glances across the office at one another. 

Shoko notices and bumps you with her hip. “And you can finally stop acting like you don’t like this man and get you some dick,” she sniggers. “You know he’d give it to you if you asked, V. The guy has pining after you for months now.” You give her a glare which she just laughs at. She swears that you have a “thing” for Gojo, but you will argue that down into the dirt until your very last breath. 

Shoko doesn’t understand that you and Gojo would not work. You and him are total opposites. He is extroverted and makes it his mission to go to every party, club, and kickback on the weekends while you’re more introverted and . rather stay home. While you know you’re attractive, you don’t constantly throw it in people’s faces like he does. He’s cocky and pompous and waaaay too into himself. 

You don’t dislike Gojo as a person, but you dislike his personality. And the persona he seems to put on for everyone else as if they are his audience. You’ve had the misfortune of seeing him drunk at your company’s Christmas party and left after an hour because of his constant jokes, loud singing, and how much he badgered you to take a shot. Despite this dislike, you don’t hate the guy. You both stay mannerable when your paths cross for any reason and sneak glances at one another but never speak beyond a “good morning” or about work. He works in a whole other department so you don’t see him often, but on the elevators or at company meetings, it’s a different story. 

Shoko can see you battling internally with yourself, so she stands in front of the doorway to block your view of Gojo, leaning her hip against the frame. “Listen, I know you have this whole love-hate thing with this dude,” she sighs, “but I promise you, he isn’t that bad. An attention slut, sure, but he means well. But I’m not here to talk about him–I’m here for you. I’ll be damned if you’re going to spend V-Day alone with your cat and takeout, which is why you need to come out with me, drink, shake ass, and make fun of our coworkers! Just for an hour, V, pleeeeease?” 

She folds her hands into a prayer, interlacing her fingers. You want to say no, but maybe she’s right. Maybe you can use a change. “One hour,” you firmly say. “One. Hour. And then I’m leaving.” 

Shoko squeals and presses a kiss to your cheek, leaving a red lip mark. “You won’t regret this, I promise,” she says though you groan indifferently. However, you can’t help but feel like maybe you won’t regret it either. 

********** 

You’ve never seen a house so big until your Uber pulls up to the estate Gojo rented out for the party. 

“Wow,” you whisper, staring up at the house in awe. After going down a trail lined with trees with bare branches to a forest that seemed to get deeper and darker, making you feel like you were entering a horror movie as you sat in the back of the car, the trees finally cleared and the mansion revealed itself. It’s more like a castle with its many floors, balconies, cobble-stoned walls, and glass windows. You spot a large pool on the right covered with a tarp, a tennis court, and a parking lot to the left filled with cars of all kinds. The lawn before it is clean, cut, and dewy, freshly cut and watered for the guests. 

The driver parks near the door and you pay him extra in cash despite also putting his tip on your credit card. “Keep it,” you tell him with a smile before thanking him and leaving the car. You press your wool trench closer to you as you walk up the path to the mansion in your heels that click against the cobblestones. The closer you get, the louder the party gets. Music and miscellaneous conversations drift to your ears, making you feel nervous. You want to turn around and run. 

‘No,’ you think, forcing yourself to keep walking. ‘You agreed to stay for an hour. AN HOUR, BITCH. You’ll be fine.’ So you swallow your fear, take a deep breath, and knock loudly on the door (ringing the doorbell for good measure). The door opens, revealing not Gojo but someone just as tall, built, and fine. He sports long, black locks of hair tied into a neat bun, gage earrings, and a tailored suit that he looks absolutely drool-worthy in. 

The stranger stares at you warmly but questionably with his chocolate eyes that you find yourself falling into. “Hello,” he greets you in a deep yet soft voice. “I’m guessing you’re here for the party?” Gulping, you find your voice and manage to answer the handsome stranger: “Y-Yeah, um, I’m V. Gojo’s coworker?” 

Recognition appears in the stranger’s eyes. “Oh, you’re V!” he chuckles. “Pleasure to finally meet you. Gojo has told me so much about you..and you’re just as pretty as he told me.” He gives you a wink that makes your stomach flip, but even more so that makes you react in such a way is the newfound information that Gojo has talked about you…and he thinks you’re pretty? 

You can’t mull over it for long though because the stranger moves aside to let you in. “Please, come in,” he says. “I’ll take your coat.” You thank him as you shed your coat, revealing your outfit of a red, curve-hugging dress that crosses over your chest, only giving viewers a peak of your cleavage. You curled your hair so it falls and bounces around your neck and paired your outfit with nylon stockings, pumps, a bold red lip and cat eye, and some small gold jewelry. You feel sexy and expensive. 

You take a moment to look around and admire the place. It’s something straight out of a movie with its polished marbled floors and walls, tablecloth tables covered in expensive snacks, fondue fountains, and champagne glasses, and a DJ playing slower songs as guests continue to show up. It’s truly a beautiful setup. 

“I’m Geto,” the stranger says once he’s finished hanging up your coat. “Suguru. I’m a friend of Gojo’s from high school and I own the place. Pretty, right?” You shake his hand when he offers it, noticing how large it is. “Nice to meet you,” you reply, “and it’s magnificent. I’m curious about what you do for work if you own a place like this!” 

He chuckles at the compliment and your curiosity. “I’m a business owner,” he explains. “I own one of the largest art companies in the country. We work primarily in setting up art exhibits, selling historical pieces, and keeping all art museums funded.” Ooooh…that means he got money. “I’ll have to tell Gojo that you’re here. He was so sure you weren’t coming.” 

You scowl confusedly at him, but before you can ask bout it, the man of the hour makes his grand appearance. “Getoooo!” his annoyingly familiar voice bellows. You turn, finding Gojo strutting over with a glass of champagne in a sleek, black button-up shirt, dress slacks, and red-bottom shoes. Darkened glasses sit on his eyes and his fingers and neck drip with gold jewelry. He looks expensive. And annoyingly good. 

He tosses an arm around Geto once near him, leaning into his friend.  “Where’d you get to, man? I’ve been looking for your ass for over 15 min…” He trails off when he gets a look at you and lowers his glasses down the bridge of his nose. You two stand there, silent, the music and noise swelling around you. “Huh,” he exhales, shocked. “And here I was wonderin’ who you were chattin’ up.” 

“Nice to see you too, Satoru,” you mutter. Sensing the tension, Geto clears his throat and takes Gojo’s glass from him. “I’ll just leave you two to talk,” he says before practically hurrying off. Then it’s just you two left alone. You don’t know whether to look at him or at the floor. “I can’t believe you actually came,” he huffs. “Shoko said you’d be coming, but I didn’t believe her. You never really come to any work-related events.” 

You flush under the lights, hugging your arms close to your body as a self-soothing mechanism. “That’s not true,” you protest. “I came to the Christmas party.” Gojo gives you a humored smile that irritates you for some reason. “But you left early,” he points out. 

“Well, maybe that’s because I don’t like seein’ my coworkers drunk,” you pointedly reply. “I’m just not a party person…but I did promise Shoko, so here I am.” You look off to the side to avoid Gojo’s gaze, but you can still feel him looking at you. Having no choice, you look back at him and find him giving you a soft, unreadable look. “Why are you lookin’ at me like that?” you ask, uncomfortable. 

“You just look…” He stops and bites his lower lip as if struggling internally with himself. It feels as if the room has gotten ten times hotter. “Really nice,” he decides, giving you a smile. “I’m shocked you’re not here with somebody.” 

“Well, I sorta am…” You begin to look for Shoko and find her in a green mini dress chatting up Nanami and Haibara from another department at your job. When she sees you, she gasps and immediately struts over you to you, a glass in one hand. “There she is!” she squeals, wrapping her arms around you. You sigh in relief, glad to have her here. “Is this guy bothering you? It’s okay, baby, I’m here now.” 

She turns to Gojo with a scowl, her arm wrapped around your plump waist. “So you can make your exit, Gojo,” she jokingly tells him. He puts his hands up in mock defense and backs away.

“Fine with me, just don’t make out in front of our boss. I’ll see you two around.” But as he says this, he looks dead at you as if making a promise. When he finally turns to walk away, you finally feel like you can breathe. “He’s got it bad,” Shoko chuckles. 

“Shut up,” you sigh. “I’m already uncomfortable here. I feel like everyone is staring at me.” Shoko titters, taking a champagne glass from a nearby tray and handing it to you. “Maybe it’s because you look fine as fuck,” she laughs. “Girl, just take a glass and relax! It’s a party! Those nerves will start to melt away the minute you get that champagne down the hatchet.” 

You do as she says and sip on your first glass of the night. And though you start to feel somewhat calm, you still feel disturbed. Mostly because of Gojo. Throughout the night, you become increasingly annoyed by his constant socializing and his noise. Why is he so loud? Loud when he talks. Loud when he laughs. Loud when he sings karaoke in front of his adoring, tipsy coworkers who cheer him on. 

Not to mention he constantly takes photos with everybody! Every person, including your boss, he takes a photo with, causing his phone to flash in your face every five minutes. Combined with the loud music and drunken laughter, you’re quickly becoming overstimulated (and not at all in a good way). 

Fed up with your snowy-haired party host and the noise, you down your second glass and text Shoko that you went to find the bathroom. But really, you just need to get away and be alone. Then you sneak away from the party and up the stairs until you are in the long hallway lined with paintings, oakwood vanities, and doors. Many doors. You push open the door that is cracked, leading to an empty study that is only lit by the big, round cheese moon outside the window behind the oakwood desk. 

The study is spacious and cozy with its polished bookcases of books on every subject, hanging paintings, and carpeted floor. The moon cuts through the glass window, creating a silvery square on the carpet and the wall near the desk where you see Geto’s name plastered on a college diploma. This must be his study. Hopefully, he won’t be upset that you’re in here, but the door was locked and you won’t be in here for long. 

You shut the door behind you and slowly walk into the study before stopping at the desk leaning against it. You feel so good to just be alone for a while, the sound of the party muffled beneath the floorboards. The only loud sounds are of your breathing and the hooting of a lone owl outside the window. It is peaceful. Serene. But not for long. 

The door opens before you can duck to hide and a tall figure stands in the doorway. He steps in, revealing himself to be the exact man you were trying to escape. “Shit!” you gasp, placing a hand on your leaping heart. “Don’t you knock?” 

Gojo stands there as if he didn’t just nearly scare you half to death. “I did knock,” he says. “Said your name too. Must’ve not heard me.” The door shuts behind him as he walks further into the room, slowly as if you’re a spooked animal. You don’t move from the desk, even when he comes to lean on the edge of it with you. 

“I was lookin’ for you,” he explains. “Shoko said you went to the bathroom, but that was over fifteen minutes ago.” He takes off his glasses to reveal his eyes, worry embedded in the crystal blue irises. 

“Oh,” you sheepishly say. “Sorry, I just…needed some time to myself. It was too loud down there.” He quirks one eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on his pink lips. “Is that code for me bein’ too loud?” he chuckles. “C’mon, I know you were annoyed by me. I could see it all over your face. That’s why I came up here to check on you and tell you I’m sorry.” 

And he actually sounds genuinely sorry about it. It makes you feel incredibly guilty. “You don’t have to apologize,” you sigh. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I guess our personalities just clash…and I’m not too fond of a phone flashing in myself every five seconds when you take a selfie.” 

Gojo laughs at this, the sound pleasant to you. “Just taking advantage of how good I look,” he jokes, flashing you a pearly-white grin. You don’t respond, staring at your shoes. “You don’t agree?” he asks, taking your silence for disagreement. 

“I didn’t say that!” you protest, flushing. “I just don’t see the need in takin’ all of those photos of yourself just because you look good. I mean, who’s gonna see ‘em?” You shrug to yourself, not really liking this conversation. “I am!” he laughs. “It’s not always for others to see. Maybe I just wanna admire myself. Don’t you, V? Admire yourself, I mean?” 

Now you really don’t like this conversation. You don’t reply, your thoughts running a million miles a minute. You feel like you should leave…but at the same time, you like the quiet and you enjoy Gojo’s openness. You enjoy him when he isn’t someone else. “Lemme ask you somethin’,” he says, not waiting for a response. “Do you hate confident guys? Guys who know they’re good-looking?” 

You look at him then, your eyes sharp and pointed. “No; just the ones who are cocky and into themselves.” 

A twinkle appears in Gojo’s eyes that is illuminated by the moonlight pouting into the window. Unbeknownst to you, he loves your boldness. Your bite. It’s sexy. And more than anything, he loves to prove you wrong about him. “It’s not that I’m into myself. I just know I’m a strong, smart, sexy guy. And there’s nothing wrong with that! I have the kind of confidence that no one’s opinion of me can make me feel some type of way…I mean, other than yours.” 

You furrow your brows at this, confused. Gojo just laughs, shaking his head. “In case you ain’t pieced it together, I like you, V. I think you’re way too smart for your department and you’re not bad on the eyes either.” He tilts his head to the side, a puppy dog look in his eyes. “But for some sad reason, you just seriously dislike me.” 

“I don’t dislike you!” you protest, feeling even guiltier than initially. He must think you’re such a bitch! “I just don’t like how cocky and overly exaggerated you can be with your confidence. To me, it feels like you rub it in my face.” Gojo raises an eyebrow, shocked at this confession. “Why?” he asks curiously. “Don’t you think you’re just as good-looking?” 

You look away at your nails, hyper-fixated on how shiny and glossy they are. “Well, yeah, but…” You pause, pretty sure that you’re oversharing at this point. You do know that you’re beautiful, but taking photos isn’t your thing. You don’t even have an Instagram account! It just isn’t for you. But Gojo thinks this is a travesty. “But what? Do you not take selfies of yourself?” You don’t answer, too embarrassed to. Gojo honestly looks shocked. “How?!” he exclaims. “Do you not see how beautiful you are? Seriously, V, you’re a fucking knockout! Especially right now.” 

You feel his blue eyes roaming across your body, your curves, your dress, and suddenly, the room feels hotter. “Here, c’mere,” he suddenly says, pulling out his phone. He then scoots closer to you to which you move away. “What are you doing?” you ask, confused. 

“Takin’ photos with you,” he replies as he opens his camera. “What’s it look like? Just scoot in close and you can see how gorgeous you are.” He flips the camera lens around so they’re facing you and him, but you scoot out of the shot, hesitant. “C’mon, just a few pics!” he pleads. “Pleeeease? I’ll put the camera on auto flash so it’ll go off every 20 seconds.” 

He gives you those puppy dog eyes again and you sigh, knowing that you’ll regret this. “Alright, fine,” you huff and scoot closer to him, trying not to inhale his cologne or feel some type of way with his shoulder and calve rubbing up against yours. “Say V-Day,” he says before the screen flashes in your face. He smiles but you don’t though, keeping your expression stoic. 

Gojo hums in satisfaction at the photo. “See? Look at that gorgeous face!” You look between the two contrasting faces and facial expressions. “Mine or yours?” you ask. He smirks at you and you realize your mistake. “Yours, of course,” he chuckles. “Why? You think I’m gorgeous?” You tsk and nudge him, earning a cackle. “C’mon, another one! Smile in this one.” 

Though you roll your eyes, you do as he says and smile, big and bright, into the camera. When the camera flashes, Gojo all but cracks a smirk in the photo. “Shit, I wasn’t ready for that one,” he sighs. “Now you’re definitely the gorgeous one in this one.” You flush, mostly because you feel that he’s right––you do look gorgeous in the photo. 

After another photo where you’re both smiling, you start settling in and realize how funny Gojo is. He cracks jokes and makes you laugh as the photo flash goes off, leading to pictures being taken of you and him cracking up. Soon, you’re making silly faces at the screen which makes you both laugh even harder. “Okay, okay, lemme do this one normal,” you giggle and smile at the camera, feeling warm and happy. 

Gojo can tell and that is why he tells you exactly what he thinks of you, unable to keep it in: “Goddamn, you truly are beautiful, V,” he sighs. “Can’t you see us together?” You turn to him, confused and alarmed by his words, but you don’t realize how close you are. As the camera goes off, your lips touch his in a soft, quick kiss that is as fast as the flash of the camera. 

You pull away as quickly as it happens, shocked and alarmed by how much you liked the kiss rather than by the fact that it happened. He’s a good kisser. Gojo stares at you in the same light like he can’t believe that that just happened and that it was with you. But he also looks at you in a way no one ever has: adoringly. Enchantingly. Like you’re the most beautiful thing in the room. Your eyes roam down his handsome face to his lips, soft and pink. 

Gojo places his phone down next to him before, silently, you both lean in again, your lips moving slowly yet passionately against each other’s. Scratch that “good”. Gojo Satoru is a great kisser. He moves his lips like it’s his profession, taking his time easing you into it. His hand caresses your face and holds your cheek, his touch making you shiver. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to become hotter and more passionate while your hands move along your bodies. At some point, his phone falls off of the edge of the desk and lands on the carpet, face-up. You can’t tell if the camera is still open and can’t care enough to check. Gojo’s lips move from your mouth to your neck, peppering your skin with hot, open-mouthed kisses. You grasp his shoulders and close your eyes, blissed out from the sensations. Despite him being your coworker, despite his personality, despite the party going on downstairs and you still being in another person’s room, you don’t care. 

You can’t care. Not when Gojo is giving you everything you’ve been craving. So when his hands inch to the zipper at the nape of your neck, you let him do as he pleases. He pauses, looking at you questionably, and you nod, wanting him to continue. He continues to kiss you down, giving you small lovebites as his fingers work the zipper down. “Gojo,” you exhale. It’s all you can utter as the dress comes off, only falling down from the waist up due to you still sitting. 

Gojo stares at you like you’re a work of art, eyes now dark with molten lust. “Fuck, look at you,” he whispers, drinking in your soft, brown skin. “Look at these.” His hands move to your breasts, big, soft, and juicy. You whimper softly at his touch, his thumbs moving over your hard nipples. “You’re absolutely beautiful, V,” he groans like it pains him. “How the fuck aren’t you with anyone?” 

You don’t answer, too horny to speak. All that is on your mind is him. “Well, it’s their loss. Now, I have you tonight…if that’s what you want.” His hands begin to leave your body, but you stop him, keeping them on your chest. “Yes,” you whisper. “Yes, I want this.” He smiles, a light sparkling in his eyes. He doesn’t begin playing with your titties just yet. First, he runs his piano fingers up and down your back as he kisses you again, soft moans traveling into each other’s mouths. 

Your hands find his body, touching and stroking his forearms; his chest; his sides; his waist. At some point, you brush up against his crotch where you feel his obvious hard-on pushing up against his pants. You gasp at the feeling and he lightly laughs into your ear. “Do you see? You see what you do to me?” 

He then stands in between your legs and latches his lips onto one of your hard, brown nipples. You gasp at the sensations of his wet tongue flicking the sensitive bud and swirling around the areola. “Fuck, Gojo,” you quietly moan, tossing your head back to the ceiling as you lean back onto one hand on the desk. He is so good with his tongue! Every flick against your nipple has you gushing, along with his fingers gently fondling the other breast he doesn’t have his mouth on. He switches, giving both of you girls equal attention. He is sloppy and greedy with it, just as you hope he is eating pussy. 

Gojo hums into your nipple, pulling away to look at you with a mischievous smile. “Rubbin’ that pussy against my leg, huh?” he chuckles. “You’re so needy, V, baby. Didn’t think that was possible for you.” Realizing that you’ve been embarrassingly rubbing your cunt up against his leg wedged between your thighs, you try to pull away, but Gojo firmly grips your outer thigh to stop you. “No; tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.” 

You know you shouldn’t. You know that having relations with your coworker at a party can only bring trouble, but the need that you have is desperate to be unbottled and overflow; not trapped again. “Taste me, Satoru,” you say in a soft plea. “I want your mouth on me.” The smile he gives you just about melts your pussy right off the bone. 

“You’ve got it, kitty,” he coos, using his thumb to gently play with your plump bottom lip, watching the way it bounces and jiggles slightly. “But on one condition: you be as loud as you wanna be. Don’t pull that quiet shit with me. The music is loud enough anyway…and even if it isn’t, fuck them.” 

Before you can argue or protest, he kneels between your legs so he is at eye level with your panties and pulls them to the side, exposing them to his naked eyes. He hisses at the way your arousal sticks to your panties as he does, your pussy lips so soaked that strands of your wetness stick to the fabric. “Shit, baby,” he groans. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” 

You bite your lip, embarrassment and arousal mixing within you. You hate how horny he makes you, but you can’t deny that you love it too. You’ve never had anyone make you feel this out of control before. But when Gojo finally proceeds to slurp up your pussy like his favorite meal, you just about lose yourself. “Fuck!” you moan, immediately grabbing his shoulder while the other grips the edge of the desk. 

Gojo is a master at eating pussy. He wiggles his tongue this way and that, stroking your lips and your clit. He just kisses the entrance of your pussy with his tongue, never quite venturing inside but you can still feel him stroking your inner walls. When he does that, his nose bumps against your clit, nudging it gently and sending sparks of pleasure throughout your entire body. It’s so hard to keep quiet or control your body because of the immense pleasure you feel.

“Oh, my God!” you gasp, earning a hum of pleasure from Gojo that he makes in your pussy. Your thick thighs clamp around his head, making him feel smothered just the way he wants to. 

God, he loves your thighs! He uses his hands to grip them; stroke the outside of them; even lightly spank them and the space where they meet your ass that he is more than eager to see in 3D. 

When he pulls away to spit onto your pussy and slurp it back up, you swear you nearly shout to the heavens, but you manage to bite your lip to keep it all in. Noticing, Gojo gives the meat of your outer thigh a light spank that makes you squeak. “I said let that voice out,” he mumbles into your pussy. “Come on, baby…ain’t this where you’re weak at?” 

He then begins to gently flick and rub your clit with his thumb, paying close attention to the way you respond. Judging by the way your moans echo throughout the empty study and your thighs quiver, he assumes he’s right on the money. “I guess it is,” he chuckles. “Let’s see what other pretty sounds I make you make with these fingers.” 

And he gets exactly what he’s looking for when he dips one of those long fingers into your tight, wet, delectable pussy and begins to stroke upward to rub your clit and G-spot at the same time. You’re unable to keep your voice hidden, each moan, whimper, and sob loud and unbridled. Thank God the music is loud enough to mask the sounds, but even if it isn’t, you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when Gojo’s tongue and fingers feel so good. 

It doesn’t take long for you to feel that knot in your core beginning to tighten with each stroke, lick, and slurp. When he pulls away to once again spit on your pussy and then slurp it back up while his finger continues to stroke your insides, you feel that tension about to boil over and grab his head to push into your pussy. He welcomes it, loving the feeling of being drowned in your wet cunt. You can’t even speak a coherent sentence. You begin to babble cusses and his name as you feel yourself about to cum: “Fuck, ‘Tarou! Shit, you’re gonna make me cum! You’re gonna…I’m gonna…oh, shit, shit shit!” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Gojo hums eagerly into your cunt, repeating this and becoming more eager the faster his ministrations get. The faster they get, the harder and faster you cum. You throw your head back and grip his white locks as you cream all over and into Gojo’s mouth. A loud moan from deep within you rises to the surface and exits your mouth, echoing throughout the room. You feel euphoric, tingles of pleasure coursing through you. 

Gojo doesn’t stop licking or finger-fucking you until he can feel your pussy twitch and weak moans leave your lips. He finally pulls away with a gasp, his chin and lips coated in you. He licks it all off eagerly and sucks on the finger he had inside of you, staring deep into your eyes as he does so. Your eyes trail down to his hardened cock which has now begun to pulse beneath his pants, desperate to be released…and you’re desperate to get it. “Need you,” you whisper breathlessly. “I wanna taste you too.” 

Gojo gives you a lustful, molten hot stare that nearly gets you out of the rest of your dress. “Not here. Follow me.” He takes your hand and helps you off of the desk before leading you out of the study and into the hallway. You walk all the way down the hall to an empty master guest room, spacious, clean, and comes with a balcony that overlooks the outside. The tree branches stretching their spiny fingers to the window cut across the floor in shadows, the moonlight shining through into the bedroom. 

You barely pay any attention to the room because you’re too busy kissing on Gojo. You wrap your arms tight around his neck as your lips move against one another’s, your tongues swirling and moans traveling into each other’s mouths. Gojo, skilled as he is, kicks the door shut with one foot and unzips the rest of your dress so it falls to the floor. His hands immediately go for your ass, groping, squeezing, and spanking your plump cheeks. He chuckles through your kiss at each soft moan and gasp you make, the sounds going straight to his groin. 

When he pulls away, his lips are plump from constantly kissing and his eyes are blown with lust. “My turn,” he says, smirking at you, and suddenly, he’s hoisting you up into his arms like you weigh absolutely nothing compared to him. He laughs at your cute little squeak as he carries you over to the humongous, neatly-made bed and tosses you onto the soft mattress where he hums seductively at the way you bounce against the bedsprings. Seeing you naked in just your heels is many things to him, one of which causes him to strip himself out of his clothes. Before he does, he leans his phone up against a charger on the nightstand so it faces you and the bed. You can’t tell if it’s on or not, too focused on him to even care. 

You watch him from the bed, turning over onto your tummy to lean against your elbows, your chin in your hands, and heels kicked up in the air. You’ve never seen someone take off his clothes so quick and in a flash, Gojo is completely naked. Your hungry eyes roam over his body, drinking in his muscles and lighter skin that contrasts with yours. They then go lower where they latch onto his big, thick, gorgeous, hard cock. You see veins and stark white pubic hairs that are trimmed short leading up to his toned stomach and V-line. You feel your body twitch with need, wanting him inside you in any possible way. 

Gojo takes a handful of his cock and begins to slowly stroke it in your face, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “You want this?” he asks. Slowly, you nod, unable to speak. “Then open your mouth and take it like a good girl.” 

You do so, inching to the edge of the bed so you’re able to reach him. You open your mouth and wrap your lips around him, emitting a needy groan from his luscious lips as you begin to suck and lick on his cock. “Thaaat’s it, baby,” he praises you, pushing stray hairs out of your face. “Lick it just like that. Like a lollipop…but just a little bigger.” 

Bigger, indeed! He stretches out your mouth and barely fits in your hands as you begin to stroke him, but you love his girth and length. You love how your dark, long nails look against his pale skin stroking him up and down. You love the sounds he makes, each moan and hum of pleasure encouraging you to give him major throat. So you bob your head and stare into his eyes as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks around his length. “Shit, baby!” he hisses, tossing his head back. “How are you this fucking good at suckin’ dick?” 

You just answer by continuing your work, loving how good you’re making him feel with your mouth and hands. After letting you do your thing for a while, Gojo slides out of your throat with a groan and gently slaps his cock against your lips dripping with spit, smearing it and your lipstick around your mouth. “So pretty,” he sighs dreamily, giving you a hooded gaze that makes you gush. “Look at how much you marked me, kitty.” 

He nods down at his cockhead ringed in your red lipstick which only makes you want to make more. “I wanna mark you too,” he says in a sultry, breathless voice. “I wanna fuck your throat, baby. Is that okay?” Is that okay? He may as well ask if it’s okay to fuck you! “Yes,” you reply, staring up at him through your lashes. “It’s okay…use my throat, ‘Tarou.” 

Your voice and nasty words make his dick twitch excitedly. He wraps his hand around himself and taps the head lightly against your tongue, making light, wet smacking sounds as he does so. “Just tap my hip or my thigh twice if you need to breathe, okay?” he coos to which you nod. And then he’s gripping your hair as he slides deep, deep, deep into your throat, nearly making you choke. A loud, needy moan leaves his lips as he settles into your tight, wet mouth and begins fucking it, bumping his pelvis and heavy balls against your face and chin as he does so. 

“Oh, my God,” he groans, fucking your throat like it’s a fleshlight. “Oh, my fucking God, baby, you’re so good at this shit! So, so good at suckin’ cock. Why the fuck didn’t we do this a long time ago?” You can only gargle and gag around his cock in response, earning a pleased chuckle. “Those are the sounds I like to hear,” he huffs. “You’re doin’ so well for me, baby, takin’ this big cock. You love gettin’ that throat fucked, don’t you? Maybe that’s all you needed to see things my way.” 

After some time of fucking your throat and leaning forward to plant some smacks on your ass to watch it jiggle, Gojo slides out of your mouth, giving you a chance to breathe. Spit and pre-cum drips from your mouth and chin, dribbling down to your tits and onto the bed. Gojo stares down at you, cheeks flushed, eyes narrow, and pumping his hard cock wet with your spit. “You still want this?” he asks. “We can leave it here if you want. No pressure, baby.” 

But you want all the pressure he can give you. So you position yourself onto your back and open your thighs for him, your heels planted on the edge of the bed. His intense, blue eyes immediately flick down to your gorgeous, edible pussy shimmering in the moonlight for him. “I want this,” you whisper into the dimly lit bedroom. But Gojo doesn’t move. He just stands there, still stroking his cock. “Do you not want this?” you ask uncertainly. 

“No, I wanna fuck you,” he answers easily. “I just want you to beg.” He grins at your gobsmacked expression. “That’s right, kitty: beg for me. Beg for this cock nice and pretty for me.” The heat of embarrassment crackles at your cheeks and skin, but it also makes your pussy quiver. “Please,” you whimper, swallowing your pride. “Please fuck me, Satoru. I need you. I’m so, so wet for you.” You begin to lightly play with your pussy in front of him, rubbing your clit and coating your lips in your wetness. 

It’s enough to make Gojo go absolutely insane. “Keep rubbin’ that pretty clit for me,” he demands before taking your ankles and yanking you to the edge of the bed. You gasp as he does so, but it turns into a moan as he slides himself home inside of you. Your body instantly tenses at his girth stretching out your walls, but he doesn’t move immediately. He watches you intently, waiting until you relax to start moving. And even then, he doesn’t fuck you hard and rough straight off the rip. He is gentle and slow, giving you strokes that are careful but still draw moans out of you. 

You can feel every inch of him inside of you, feeling unbelievably full. As you continue to rub your clit, the pleasure begins to build and your body becomes comfortable with Gojo’s cock, adapting and molding into a shape just for him. Gojo notices and grips your hips as he continues to roll his hips nice and tortorously slow into you. “This okay, baby?” he huffs. “You need it faster? Harder?” You nod, whimpering pathetically. 

Smack! His hand collides with the outside of your thigh, making it jiggle. “Nuh-uh, baby,” he growls. “Look at me. Say it to my face.” You open your eyes, just slits, and look at his handsome face slightly gleaming with sweat, as he bumps his hips even slower into you. He cackles at your groan of frustration, not giving up until you give him what he wants. “Please!” you whine. “Please, Gojo, baby, fuck me harder!” 

That’s when he holds you close by your hips, hoists your legs over his shoulders, and puts your ass straight into the mattress. Your eyes widen and your nails dig into shoulders as he fucks you rough, gripping the flesh of your thighs and fucking into you with a speed and precision that has you seeing stars. You’ve neve been fucked so good before. You pussy squelches and gushes all around his cock the more it pummels into you, drilling you just the way you need. 

It’s so good. Too good. Your eyes squeeze shut at the overwhelming pleasure, moans and whines leaving your lips to echo throughout the bedroom. You then feel Gojo’s hand gripping your chin, squishing your cheeks together. “Look at me, V,” he demands. “I said fucking look at me when I’m fucking you!” At his tone and volume, you weakly open your eyes and stare into his that remind you so much of the oceans in the Bahamas. 

“Keep lookin’ at me,” he orders but it sounds more like a plea. “Don’t look away. I wanna see those pretty eyes while I fill this pussy up.” You have to force yourself to keep staring, mostly because of the vulnerability. You’re here being splayed out and stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey, your heels dangling in the air and pussy squleching around his cock! And here he is, wanting to see every single cute little expression on your face and in your eyes. It’s too much. It’s too intimate. 

But it’s so intoxicating. So addictive. And the feeling is mutual. Gojo commits your body and the way your tits jiggle as he fucks you into the bed to memory, wanting to give you good dick any time you want as long as it’s his. “This is all it took, huh?” he chuckles. “You just needed some dick to see how beautiful you are? How much you deserve a guy like me?” He holds your face in his hand, forcing you to keep looking at him. “Do you see how good we are together, V? Huh? Do you see it now?” 

You must be delicious from the dick because you do. You do see it and you’re desperate to make it known as he speeds up, plowing into that pussy again and again until the bedsprings creak. “Fuck, ‘Tarou, yes!” you sob. “I’m gonna fucking cum! I’m so close!” You can’t stop the way your pussy clenches and your clit swells as you continue to toy with it. 

But then Gojo stops, stilling his movements. “Me too,” he warns. “But not like this.” He suddenly hoists you up farther onto the bed and edges onto it with you on his knees. He grips your ass as lifts your legs up onto his shoulders, leaning forward so your knees are pressed against your chest. “Need to make it count,” he grunts. “Need to be closer to you…need to be deeper.” 

You’re confused at fist, not sure what he’s doing. 

That’s when he proceeds to fuck you into a breeding position, his hips slamming down against yours with his feet planted firmly on the bed. “Oh, my God!” you practically scream as his cock pummels in and out of you at a breakneck pace, causing every part of you to jiggle and move with the force of his fucking. Now you understand why so many women are crazy for him: he’s amazing in bed. He has such stamina being able to fuck you in such a position without hiring, feral moans and grunts leaving his lips as he fucks you stupid. 

Now you have no choice but to cum. You’re completely trapped beneath him with no place to go, your pussy quivering and twitching around his cock. “G-Gojo!” you stutter, gripping his shoulders for dea life. “‘M g-gonna cum! Gonna…you’re g-gonna m-make me…” You can’t even speak, your tongue heavy and mind blank with pleasure. But Gojo understands. “Cum for me, baby,” he begs, staring deep into your eyes. “Cum with me. Give it to me like a good girl!” 

And you do. As soon as he bursts inside of you with a loud moan of your name, your pussy clenches and you cum all around his cock, drenching him in your juices. Gojo grips you to him, making you feel restricted and trapped with just his arms and his body. You gasp as you feel him fill you up with his nut, warm, wet, and endless. He groans as his cum drips out of you and leaks down your thighs and his balls, soaking you both in the aftermath of your sex. Your sex. You just had sex with a coworker. 

As the fog of your orgasm fades, you feel nothing close to bliss and everything close to mortification. Gojo finally releases you and stands up straight, hissing as he does so. “Ah, shit!” he groans. “Think I overdid it.” He puts a hand to his lower back, winching. You just stare up at him, trying to make sense of him and everything that just happened. “Sorry,” he sheepishly says, smiling down at you. “Did that ruin the mood?” 

Your eyes roam over his naked, toned body to his semi-hard cock still soaked in your and his cum. You quickly look away to your clothes and bag, feeling the urge to throw up. “No, I…fuck!” The gravity of the situation hits you like a freight train. “I can’t believe I did this,” you murmur to yourself. “I can’t believe we did this.” 

Gojo chuckles, laying next to you on the edge of the bed. “Believe it, baby; the hair speaks for itself.” He runs a hand through his unruly, sexed-out locks of silvery-white hair. “You were so, so good,” he sighs happily. He goes to touch you, but you move away, immediately feeling guilty for doing so when you see his saddened eyes. But you can’t bring yourself to touch him or snuggle. Aftercare doesn’t matter right now when all you feel is guilt and confusion. “I-I’m sorry, Gojo,” you weakly say. “I have to go. I took things too far with you tonight.” 

It was the alcohol, you try to reason. And you were trying to distract yourself from the noise of the party. You were vulnerable. You try to think of every reason this happened instead of just blaming it on the fact that you’re very attracted to Gojo Satoru. He lays on the bed now, scowling in utter confusion at you. “Wait, huh?” he asks as you scramble to leave the bed. “Wait, V, don’t go! Let’s sit down and talk about it!” 

But you don’t want to talk about it and you can’t talk about it. If you do, you’re sure that you’ll start crying. You can already feel the tears building. But as you rush to the door, gravity has other plans for you and you knock right into the nightstand, causing Gojo’s phone to fall. “Shit!” you gasp, immediately bending down to pick it up. His phone sits faceup in your hand, the screen glowing at you. 

There, you see his camera roll. And in it, every new picture taken by Gojo tonight. You see photos of him and your team; him and the boss; and him and you. Not just the ones you took side by side in Geto’s study, but also…other ones. More intimate ones taken every 20 seconds of you both. Naked. Having sex. Heat runs through your veins and up to your face, creating a permanent blush. ‘No,’ you think. ‘No, no, no!’ 

You open all of them, each one becoming more embarrassing and lewd than the previous one. You see photos taken from the floor in the study where Gojo is on his knees eating you out; photos of you getting your face fucked at the edge of the bed, your heels kicked up and his hand gripping your hair; you on your back legs spread wide and face contorted in pleasure as Gojo fucks you into the couch; you and him together, locked into a breeding position, your eyes locked on each other’s as the moon glows against your skin. 

Gojo slides off of the bed to check on you, seeing you staring at his phone completely in awe. “What?” he asks, curious. “What is it?” Wordlessly, you pass the phone to him and he sees the photos. His blue eyes widen an inch as he scrolls through each one. “Oh,” he just says. “Well, at least you look hot in all of these. But I can delete ‘em if you want.” 

And you realize that he’s right: you do look hot in all of them. You drink in your smooth, brown skin glowing in the moonlight; your thick thighs spread and ass looking so delectable; your pussy stretched around Gojo’s cock as your pretty face contorts beautifully with pleasure, spit and red lipstick smeared around your open mouth. It’s still embarrassing, but also liberating. And a turn-on. You see yourself just as Gojo sees you in those photos: sexy, beautiful, and meant to be with him. 

“No,” you reply. “Send them to me.” He gazes at you, shocked. “You’re right: I do look pretty hot in those…we both do, actually.” You give him a shy smile to which he returns, a slight blush adorning his cheeks. “Well, I’m glad you see it my way, but I can’t send them to you. I don’t have your number.” He actually looks sad to give you the bad news. 

But you smirk, one step ahead of him. You put your hand out, palm up, for his phone. “Then I guess you’ll need my number then,” you purr. He stares at you for a few seconds, his mind slowly processing your words, and then hands you the phone. He continues to give you that laughable look as you put your name and a cute heart emoji beside your name into his contacts, along with your number. 

When you pass it back to him, your heartbeat has accelerated, your stomach fluttering with butterflies. “You can use that for a brunch date too,” you add, feeling somewhat shy. “Or the movies.” You silence yourself, letting Gojo piece your words together. 

He stares down at your number and then at you before breaking out into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on a person. He tosses his phone onto the bed before engulfing you in a tight embrace, picking you up off of the ground. You squeal as he tosses you both onto the bed, kissing you all over on your face; your neck; your shoulders. “Finally!” he laughs. “Finally, you’re mine!” You laugh with him, feeling giddy like a schoolgirl who just found out her crush likes her back. 

You lean up to kiss him, but stop when a knock interrupts you. “Yes, finally,” Shoko agrees. “I was waiting for the day you two finally stopped acting like you weren’t crazy about each other and just fucked.” You gape at the door, mortified that your friend is behind it. Did she hear you two? Did anyone else hear you two?  

“As happy as I am for you Satoru, can you at least clean up my bed when you’re done in there?” Geto asks. “And come down for the party toast in about fifteen minutes.” 

Gojo presses a finger to his lips, signaling you to keep quiet while he’s silently dying with laughter. “Sorry, Sugu!” he calls. “We promise we didn’t break nothing!” 

“Uh-huh,” Geto replies blandly. “You’re lucky you’re my friend because I would’ve tried to scoop her up myself. She’s a keeper, indeed.” You flush as you hear him and Shoko finally leave, no doubt going to give the others a good story about the noise…but you also find that you don’t care if anyone knows. You want them to know. 

Gojo gazes down at you as you lean against his chest, feeling so small and so safe against him. 

“Now let’s get back to that snuggle. We’ve got fifteen minutes to spare and I’m not wasting any of ‘em.” He then leans down to capture your lips with his and you remind yourself to treat Shoko to lunch for persuading you to come to this stupid party. 

THE END.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

I saw something in the fandom that made me upset and I need to rant about it. It’ll be below the cut so I don’t clog up people’s dashes!

I cropped the name off of this post because I am not trying to start drama, but I found this under the “Matt Murdock x Reader” tag and found it INCREDIBLY disheartening to go through to comments/reblogs and see how many people agreed.

I am in no way trying to dispute the fact that fandom spaces and self-insert fanfiction is heavily white washed/influenced by white writers. As a white woman myself, I catch many little slip ups in my own work that make my writing less accessible than I want it to be. I understand being frustrated that there aren’t many stories where you feel your appearance has been considered.

However: fanfiction, fanart, gif making and coloring, edits, and other forms of fan-made-content are usually completely free to access. No one is entitled to them—they are a privilege, not a right. Which means that people are allowed to write whatever characters they want, even if it’s not completely unique or what you want to read.

My issue is with OP’s critiques of weak/feminine/sweet/innocent readers and the way they voiced their opinion (again, not disputing the appearance stuff). I know that many readers are sweet or innocent, but as someone who is rarely given the space to be the “damsel in distress” so to speak, I enjoy writing characters who are taken care of and protected. Regardless of my or any other writer’s reasoning for writing the characters this way, we are allowed to do that. It’s our fucking work.

If you don’t like something, no one is forcing you to read it. If you notice a lack of fics that appeal to you, write some yourself. It is inconsiderate to chastise people spending hours of their free time to give you content that you can enjoy just because it’s not exactly what you want to see.

Also, don’t threaten to block me if you don’t like how I write. Just block me. It is your responsibility to curate an enjoyable experience on this app, not everyone else’s.

In summary: I am not trying to say that fandom is perfect or inclusive or that critiques of my writing aren’t welcome. This person can have whatever opinions they like and are welcome to post them on their blog. I would just like to point out that the delivery could’ve been more polite and that authors don’t need to change the plots/characters’ personalities they write just because others aren’t happy with the outcome.