#i have been thinking about this for an embarrassingly long amount of time

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 31st. tom riddle — breeding kink, raw sex.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024

summary: tom has a dream about fucking you raw, and decides it’s time he ditches the self-restraint.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, needy tom riddle, fingering, slight begging, desperate sex, PIV, creampie, incoherent babbling/dirty talk, breeding kink, literally the most feralized and needy and pathetic tom i have ever written .

You wake up to the feeling of Tom at your back, sometime within the early hours of the morning. 

Not an unusual occurrence, per say, but you're vaguely aware of the fact that the desperate way he's gripping your waist and pressing against you isn't just par for the course—something's off—and you don't get to wonder or question what exactly it is because within a second he's pressing his lips to your neck, murmuring your name, and stealing your cognitive function before you even get the chance to wake. 

"What—" you manage to get out, just as his hand slides up the front of your shirt and his lips continue mouthing against your neck. 

"Hm?" He murmurs, as if he's doing nothing unusual, as if you aren't completely aware he's pressed up against you like an animal in heat.

"Are you," you're struggling to get the words out as his lips graze the spot on the nape of your neck that makes your breath catch. "Okay?" 

He stills for a moment at that, before he makes an amused sound in the back of his throat, as if the question is almost funny somehow. "Should I not be?"

"I just...mmf—" a whole body shudder goes through you as his hand reaches the underside of your breasts; palming, squeezing. "You seem—different." 

"Different," he echos against your neck with a smile. "In what way?"

"Uh, needier—oh," his hand slips from your chest to the front of your pyjama pants, grinding his erection against your ass. "What's—gotten into you—"

"You, of course," he husks, and the fact that he can be cocky while he's practically pinning you to his chest is the perfect bloody summary of him. "Who else?"

"Well—I mean—" the words leave your lips in a hissing moan as his hand, that beautiful, steady hand—slips under your waistband and wastes no time in finding your clit, long fingers swirling tight little circles against it. "What—ohhh—" 

"You do know that you're asking way too many questions," he whispers, teeth nipping at your ear lobe as he runs his index and middle fingers down your slit. "I'd rather you be moaning my name as opposed to doing a million cross-examinations on my behaviour."

Well, that certainly shuts you up, at least on the verbal side of things—because the gasp that leaves your lips is not entirely something you can control, considering the fact that you're suddenly very aware of just how badly he seems to need you right now.

"I think that was progress," he croons between open-mouthed kisses, absentmindedly making you shiver and jerk as his fingers resume rubbing and massaging your clit. "Good girl." 

You whimper faintly at that, and you wish you could hate the way you react to the praise on principle only—but that's kind of hard to do when it's him, and he's doing the praising in the first place. So instead, you just try to keep any kind of higher brain function intact, regardless of it being a losing battle at this point.

"I just need you," he practically groans, and it's the strangest thing to hear him say when he's usually just fine being all smug and self-composed. "I need to feel you, now."

It's the closest thing to him pleading that you think you've ever heard, and the guttural moan you let out as he slips one of those long slender fingers inside your embarrassingly slick cunt is the closest thing to feral as you're sure you've ever been. 

"Need," you whimper as your hips jerk, and it takes an embarrassing amount of time to realize that it's a sound you've made and not some kind of vocal fry of his. "Need me, why?" 

He doesn't answer right away, not in words—just sucks your earlobe into his mouth in a way that makes you want to scream. "You're not usually this difficult." 

"M'tired." The argument is weak, at best, but you're not exactly in any kind of frame of mind to try and make sense of the situation. "And you're—intense—"

"Yes," he murmurs, that smug tone still needling your eternal irritation. "And if you must know, it really is because of you. I had a dream about you." He punctuates the sentence by slipping a second finger into your slick heat, and you barely manage to keep a whimpering moan inside that you just know he would love to hear. "Fuck. It was a beautiful dream." 

He bites at your ear again, and it occurs to you that the desperate edge to his voice might have something to do with just how good the dream of you felt—or how badly he'd clearly wanted it to be real. 

You suddenly need to hear every goddamn detail. 

"Felt you for once, without protection," he tells you, as if reading your mind, and you whimper at what you're pretty sure is a pretty profound confession. "Even better than I thought you'd feel—fuck—"

"You're not the only one who's thought about that," you manage to get out, and you're not even being coy about it—at this point you're simply trying to deal with the realization that Tom Riddle having a wet dream about you is apparently enough to turn you into a pathetic, drooling mess. "But you are the one who's always been insistent on using condoms."

Oh, the low growl he lets out at that is a dangerous sound—it's low and guttural and it makes you realize that there's a very real chance this is going to go somewhere you might have trouble walking away from. 

"Yes, well," he pauses, and you can practically feel the fire in his eyes. "I'm just realizing I might have been a bit of a fool."

"You, admitting you're a fool?" You somehow give a half-assed scoff at the idea as you try to hold onto your sanity. "I think hell just froze over."

He laughs at that—actually laughs, and it does strange things to your insides to have it directed at you. 

"Maybe I'm just in a very specific sort of mood." 

"Oh?" You manage to raise an eyebrow. "And what kind of mood is that?"

"The kind of mood," he says, in an almost growl that you're trying to interpret through the haze of trying not to moan, "where I throw all reason out the window. The kind of mood where I forget all self-restraint."

"That's a dangerous thing, coming from you," you choke out, because that is true, but you're only half-thinking through your words before you say them, half your brain stolen by the curling of his fingers inside you, massaging your slick walls. "You don't usually—"

"Never," he cuts you off, like he's fully aware of just how different this is and trying not to admit it. "Until you."

Well, you don't know what to say to that—because you know him, and you know he doesn't usually lose himself in things like this, not like he's apparently doing now. 

"Oh?" You gasp, as his thumb sweeps over your clit, making your eyes roll. "So I've made you reckless." 

His answer comes in the form of a low, grunting sound of agreement, his grip on your body shifting a bit as he pulls you back tighter to his chest, rutting his erection against your ass. 

"You've done more than that," he murmurs with a sigh right in your ear as his slick fingers slip out to draw wet little circles against your clit. "Fuck it. I need to feel you—please, let me fuck you right. No protection."

Oh sweet Mother of Merlin.

There were a lot of words in that sentence that you were fucking sure, just a minute ago, were entirely out of the question for him. Not a soul on god’s green earth could have prepared you for the feeling that utterance just invoked—and you can't help but let out a helpless, wanton groan in response—his fingers driving you directly to the very edge of climax—

"I need a word out of you," he grits, and you realize then that you're both at the mercy of something he can only half control as he ruts against you again, his fingers slowing as if he's edging you— "please." 

You wish you could give him something teasing, snarky, maybe even witty. Something to needle him for just how beside himself he is, something to call him out for the feralized broken thing he's seemingly been reduced to. 

But you can't, because your climax is right there, and he's moving his fingers too slow, denying you of it on purpose—

"Yes," you whimper, the word like an answer to a prayer you hadn't even known you were praying for, and you realize somewhere behind your consciousness that you're desperate and aching inside for so many reasons, all of them because of him. "Please, fuck. Please, do it—I need—to cum—"

And at those words—that plea—the need in them, there's no stopping the sound that tears itself out of his throat, and before you can even think he's jerking your pyjama pants off your thighs—

"Wanna feel it—" he hisses as he frees himself next, tugging you against him and lifting your thigh toward your head. "Need to feel you cum when I'm inside you."

Oh, and at this point you're begging that you'll survive this. 

You're at his mercy, as you've been before, but in a completely different way—one that seems to be fueled by whatever animalistic thing is driving him today, and you're left with no defense besides the knowledge that he's doing this because if he didn't, he may just lose his goddamn mind. 

And for as much trouble you generally get into by enjoying him being cocky and in control of the narrative, this—this is something you've never once experienced. Tom on the edge of falling completely apart in his need for you, desperation and need taking a front seat to his usual restraint and control.

He's between your thighs before you can blink, and then he's pushing in. "Oh, fuck."

It's a sensation that's completely different when there's no barrier between you, and you're pretty sure that if it wasn't for the fact that the animal in his chest has risen to the surface, taking you by the throat, you would have gasped out in a moan so loud it woke the entire fucking country—but somehow, someway, you manage to tame it. 

His face buries in the crook of your shoulder, and it's a sound of guttural relief as his breath goes shaky and unsteady right in your ear.

"Feels so good," he whispers as he sinks in—as his thick, throbbing dick disappears into your greedy cunt. "Too good."

'Too good' feels like the exact wrong thing to say right now, at least in your mind, because you're pretty sure you'll take the fact that this feels so good you're scared it might kill you to your grave. 

"Oh my god." You manage to get out the words through the haze, and you're barely even sure what you're saying, your head thrown back against his shoulder, his arm coming up to wrap around your throat. "Oh my god, Tom." 

He responds with a shaky curse of your name, and you’re absolutely certain somewhere in you is exploding, something in your gut is coiled so tight it's like holding in the biggest possible secret of the world that you're desperate to scream to someone—

"So wet. So tight. I'm never starving myself of this again." It's a confession that steals your breath, and you struggle to keep breathing, struggling with trying to keep your world from spinning away as he starts to make shallow, languid thrusts into you, free hand slipping down to your clit. "Let me feel it. Let me feel it all."

You keen. "Fuck! Please."

It's the only word you can manage in a half-hysterical moan, your hand grabbing onto the one he's wrapped around your throat as if he's saving you from certain destruction, as if he's the only lifeline you'll ever find—and maybe, you think that's okay, because you're so used by him in so many ways that right now you don't even want another.

"T-tom—" his fingers swirl your clit in perfect time with his thrusts and you're clenching so tight your entire body is almost stiff. "Tommmm—I'm fucking—"

His teeth bite down on your shoulder with such ferocity you'd think he wanted it to bleed, and you're not even sure it's intentional as his body tenses against yours, tugging you back like he's trying to crush you into his chest. 

"Yes. Yes," he hisses again, and it's broken. "Please give it to me."

'Please give it to me' are the best five words you've ever heard from his mouth, you think with the quarter of your brain that’s still functioning—and it's like you've been waiting for permission without realizing it, because you feel fireworks going off behind your eyes a moment later. 

"Oh fuckk! Yes, yes, oh!" 

You cry out, so loud you'd be nervous about someone hearing you if the pleasure wracking your body wasn't so powerful you're pretty sure you're going to feel it all the way into next week—and there's a sound like something coming undone against your skin as his teeth dig deeper into your shoulder, a sound that's like a low, guttural moan of your name before he shutters something in half-broken words you're not even sure he's meant to.

"Oh yes—god, you're tight—fuck—"

You can't answer him, but it doesn't matter, because a moment later it's all painfully forgotten with the way he lets out another moan against your shoulder—

"That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it. Just like that."

It's the pet name that does something to your insides, twisting them up in a way you can't quite parse through the haze, but it's enough in the moment to make tears prick unbidden at the corner of your eyes as he jerks against you, his breaths coming in shaky, heavy pants against your skin as his own climax draw closer, and there's no way this wasn't something you both needed that neither knew how to ask for. 

"Tom," you manage to whimper, and it sounds like a prayer of your own creation. "Tom—"

It's like he needed to hear you moan his name like that in a way that's primal—because in that moment his hand moves from your neck to your hair, and he clenches his fist into it, pulling, and it's enough to make a shattered moan force its way out of your chest and up to your throat. 

"M'close. Mmm. So fucking close," he hisses against your skin. "M'gonna—fill this tight cunt."

And god, it should be alarming, because you've always been careful, careful, careful—because you've always known the risks, the consequences, but right now you're having a hard time remembering why you ever thought it was a terrible, terrible idea to let him do this. 

"You're—Tom—you—"

"I know,” he groans, and it's like a plea, as if you're saying something out loud that he doesn't want to admit he knows— "just take it. Let me—fucking breed you."

There's a moment where your chest seems to constrict violently at that, where you're almost sure you must have a heart condition because it feels like skipping a beat is the under-explanation of the century, but it's gone as quickly as it came, and god if it wasn't as profoundly hot as you know it shouldn't be. 

“Jesus—Tom—“ there're a lot of things you know you should be saying, things you'd planned to say—or not do, as the case may be—but the only thing that leaves your lips at this moment is, “please."

And he doesn't know if it's a plea or a prayer, but either way it’s all the same because there’s no stopping the sound that leaves his lips as your answer sinks into his brain, as the meaning sinks into his bones: the low, guttural, primal sound of a man losing pieces of himself in something that he doesn't care to stop. 

"Oh—" he chokes out. "Oh god—"

It's like it's taking him like he wants it to, stealing him up in a way that both makes him feel both more whole than he's ever been and like he's lost more of himself than he can possibly cope with at every other moment all at once, and you're pretty damn sure you'll be the only thing that survives it, in the end— 

And then, he explodes. "Fuck—"

It's a choked-off sound that tears violently into the room without his permission, one that claws its way out of his chest and up his throat in a way that feels simultaneously like falling into and being pushed off of a cliff straight into oblivion—

"Mmm yes. Yes. Take it—" he's twitching inside you, hips trembling as he pumps his release deep within your walls. "Fuck. Fuck yes." 

There's a million and one responses to everything he's done and said in the last few minutes that dance on the tip of your tongue, but you're not entirely sure you have the mental capacity to do more than manage a shaky whimper at this point, and all you're even remotely sure you can do is respond to his own moans and gasps with ones of your own. 

"Tom," you whimper as he finally slows. As you both work to catch your breath. "I wish you had dreams like that more often."

He just laughs, a breathless, unsteady thing.

"That's my fucking girl." He mutters. "All mine."

[squishyo-o]

.+*𝓜𝓸𝓶𝓶𝔂, 𝓱𝓾𝓱?*+. ❤️‍🔥

• IDOL!Seonghwa x FEM!Reader

• CW!: Needy/Desperate reader (in the beginning), Mentions of Nudes (?? Idk. Again, only the beginning) Seonghwa being thirty for that 🐱, body worshiping done by seonghwa and his tongue, Somnophilia, overstimulation, Seonghwa in a black tank top (yes this needs its own warning), pet names (angel, pretty, baby, good/pretty girl, probably more that I put in this thing), smut smut smut with a small little plot, I’m probably forgetting stuff

This was a recommendation by @bbdeongi (sorry if you don’t appreciate tags 😓 I didn’t know how to notify you I made this LMAO) after I made that one post a while ago! I hope you enjoy it <3 (This is basically the prompt: post prompt)

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Why did he have to be gone for so long..

So.. agonizingly long…

You and your idol boyfriend, Seonghwa, have been together for roughly a year and a half now. He unfortunately had been super busy since the day of the comeback announcement and you guys hadn’t had been able to spend too much time together. Granted, you’d also get busy at times, but usually the two of you would find a day, or at least a period of time that you guys would be free to go out with each other or relax at home and cuddle together. Even then, sex wasn’t a question with the two of you. Most of the time he’s pretty soft but the days where the group stressed him out, you’ll be in for a lovely ride.

This time you were pent up at home

Since the day of the comeback announcement, he had been busy with recording the new songs for the album and practicing the choreography for their title track. These were the times you kind of hated the most about his job since the amount of time the two of you would spend time together was very little. You were sat in bed with your legs spread and embarrassingly fingering yourself. You knew Seonghwa was way better than you were. Because then he uses his mouth and just makes you fall apart again. Soft helpless sobs came from your lips as you were desperately trying to get yourself to cum somehow. You were hearing Seonghwa’s voice in your head which just turned you on more, but it wasn’t the same.

Every time you got there, you couldn’t seem to get yourself to finish. You eventually got fed up and was too tired to try again. But you decided to show Seonghwa what he was missing out on. You grabbed your phone on the beside table and snapped a picture of your unfinished pussy. Aching and left over. You sent it to him with a caption of 'please hurry home.. miss you.. ❤️' and put the phone down back on the nightstand to go clean yourself up. Even walking to the bathroom just to clean yourself up made you shake and wobble. Seonghwa, who got the message notification, was on a water break when he saw the text.

Fuck..

Seeing you like that, and he wasn’t able to do anything about it right now? Way turned him on. He kept staring at that wetness between your legs in the picture. He silently cursed to himself. Why couldn’t practice just be done already? He wanted so badly to just hurry home and fuck you with his mouth. It didn’t help that your moans were ringing in his ears. Such a beautiful symphony; it makes his cock twitch. He had to cross his legs and play it off as him getting comfortable. "God.. practice can’t go by any faster.." he mumbled under his breath taking a sip of his water, still staring at the picture you sent. He reacted to the picture with a heart and even replied:

"I’m so sorry my angel. Wait for me pretty, and I promise my tongue will give you paradise 💞"

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Roughly about 3 hours later, and Seonghwa was finally on his way home, Really was just about to step into the house. Fuck he has never been so hungry for you. The entire way back home was just him thinking about you. You and your cunt. You and your wet, throbbing, and needy cunt. Even thinking about it now made his cock jump. He needed to be inbetween your legs. Now. He unlocked the front door and let himself in, taking his shoes off. A warm feeling hugged his arms walking in like it always did, knowing that you were here. Here, home, and horny as shit. Seonghwa went upstairs to your guys’s shared room and opened the door.

"Angel? Oh.."

He looked on the bed and saw you. Sleeping. "Fuck I’m sorry angel.. did I take too long..?" He whispered. He looked at your sleeping body, lips in a soft pout in your innocent and peaceful rest. You looked so adorable, but he was hungry for that needy pussy. That picture stirred him up. "Pretty.. I’m home.." he softly spoke, not trying to wake you up too much, but enough to know he was home. "hwa.." you hummed, very sleepy. "I saw what you sent me.. need a little help?" You whined a little, nodding, and starting to fall asleep again. "Aww poor thing.. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.. here.."

Seonghwa climbed over you and your now sleeping figure. "So pretty.." he lifted the blankets and saw that you were only in underwear. Underwear and his t-shirt. "Fuck Angel.. you know how to turn me on and I wasn’t even here.." he said. He looked at your sleeping figure. "Least you’ll wake up to something pleasant, yes?" He carefully slid your panties off and pushed your legs apart to see your pussy. "Poor thing.. can’t believe I left you hanging for so long.." he put in 2 fingers and curled them a couple times, eliciting sleepy whines from you.

"So pretty. Even while you’re sleeping.." He took his fingers away and licked them clean. "Fuck angel.. gotta get a better taste of you.." he said, now dipping his face between those legs and starting to suck and use his tongue, groaning at how good you tasted. He could hear whines coming from you, and could feel you regaining your consciousness. "H-hwa.. Seonghwa.." you moaned. Seonghwa kept lapping up your cunt and slurping up your juices. He was eating you out like it was his last meal. You clamped your thighs around his face, telling him you were close.

You had a grip on his hair because of how well he was doing. Loud and long moans were drawn out of you. "Seonghwa! Seonghwa please I’m close.. I’m close please! Please mommy I’m gonna cum!" Mommy? That’s surely new. And hot. He kept going until the coil in your abdomen finally snapped and you came hard on his tongue. He licked it all up, but didn’t stop. He was still going. "S-seonghwa! T-too much! Too much!" You moaned, but he was still going; his tongue reaching every spot in your clit. Even the ones you didn’t know about.

Your legs were shaking. Thighs squeezing around his face as he kept eating your out. The slurping and groaning sounds that would usually embarrass you, turning you on more. "M-mommy.. mommy I’m gonna cum again.." you moaned as you felt the same familiar pit in your stomach. With one of his hands he put a hand on your thigh and squeezed it which then set you off again and made you moan his name loud as you creamed on his tongue. And he was there to lick it all up.

You staggeringly whined and moaned as you came down from your second high and seonghwa’s pussy eating finally came to a stop. He came back up and looked at you, cocking his eyebrow in amusement. "Mommy, huh?" Your cheeks flushed and you got goosebumps. You looked away before nodding. "Hm.. interesting.." Seonghwa began taking his sweats off. You could see how much he was painfully aching in his boxers. "Need you so bad Angel.. couldn’t wait to get home after I saw the message.. you and that pretty pussy of yours.. fuck.." he groaned.

"Can’t wait to fuck you.." He took off the blankets and began kissing your neck sweetly. "Hwa.." you whined. "Such a pretty girl.." you were still quite tired from the two previous orgasms, but the way Seonghwa was talking, there was no way he was gonna stop now. He was turned on. "Seonghwa.. c-can’t go again.." you whined. Seonghwa was busy worshipping your body and had already taken his shirt off of you while kissing your boobs. "No bra underneath? In my t-shirt? Someone was needy.." you then pouted. "So are you by how you’re kissing me.." Seonghwa chuckled.

"You don’t seem to mind though, right?" He said and went back to your thighs, kissing and biting on them and listening to the sounds of your moans. Seonghwa took off his boxers and alined himself with your hole. "So sorry I kept you waiting my angel.." he said as he entered you, you gasping at the intrusion. "S-seonghwa I-i can’t.. go again.." he began thrusting in you slowly. "Cmon now.. be a good girl for mommy, eh?" You moaned at his words. He went slow for a little bit before going a little faster, hearing your moans get louder. "Oh my fucking god.. Seonghwa.. please more.."

"Ah ah.. that’s not my name, is it angel? Try again.. what’s my name?"

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𝓐𝓝: chat- the delay on this story IM SO SORRY 😭😭😭😭 I GOT IT OUT THOUGH 🥲 Hope you guys enjoy this one!! Lmk in comments or reblogs <3 love you guys and remember to be kind to yourself and drink water ❤️ xoxo

[mingi-s-dimples]

Accidentally Roommates - Yunho

~"Best friend's brother with yunho × reader- where reader has intense crush on her besties brother. She's so flustered whenever around him but never dreams of making it obvious, it would be mortifying. Especially because she's insecure about her appearance and thinks he's way out of her league. You could say shes the nerdy type while hes the this popular, attractive athlete. Not cliche in any way, slow, gut wrenching build. I want just the right amount of angst especially because she sees him with other girls a lot. And then it dips into fluff and sweet smut. Plot twist he ends up living with them for a few months which complicates things and her feelings as she tries to avoid him and not make her crush obvious."

pairing: yunho x fem!reader

genre, 18+, college au

summary: your roommate ends up being no one but your absolutely handsome crush.. and this switch is caused by your bestie, which does you good in the end.

wc: 4.6k

warnings: college au, sweet smut, making love, slight bulge kink, slight size kink, a lot of kissing and making out, reader is kinda insecure about herself, athlete x need typa shit, protected (we cheer in unison), forced proximity, friends to lovers, sweet love, lots of praising, completely consensual, for sure forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Note: heyy sooo this came oit sweeter than expected wusjsujs but my reader wanted it to be sweet smut so I guess it works 🤞🏻 i've never been this gentle in my fics ngl 💀😂 but hey it's a fresh breath of air (an absolute menace and filthy fic with jongho coming next week stay tuned), i hope you like it ml! 💖💖💖

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way!

You knew moving into the dorms for your second year of university would be an adjustment. What you didn’t expect was walking into your new room, suitcase in hand, only to find Yunho standing there, shirtless, with a towel slung over his shoulder.

Your best friend’s brother.

Your secret crush since forever.

And, apparently, your new roommate.

“Oh, hey,” Yunho grinned, running a hand through his damp hair as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “Took you long enough.”

You just stood there, staring, struggling to breathe, your brain short-circuiting at the sight of him in your shared space. “W-What are you doing here?” you finally managed to stammer.

Yunho cocked his head, amused. “You mean in my room?”

His room?

Your stomach dropped. There had to be a mistake.

But before you could process, your phone buzzed.

**[Bestie]: Okay, don’t freak out.

[Bestie]: Sooo... I *might* have switched rooms with you.

[Bestie]: I really wanted to live with Alex [her bf] aaaand Yunho didn’t care so—surprise… I guess?**

Surprise.

You wanted to scream.

Your best friend had traded you like a deck of playing cards, leaving you to share a room with her ridiculously hot, athletic, popular older brother—the same one who made your heart race every time he looked at you.

You could barely function around Yunho in casual group settings. How the hell were you supposed to live with him?

“Oh,” you mumbled, still gripping your phone, voice embarrassingly small. “I—uh. I didn’t know.”

Yunho just smiled, so effortlessly relaxed. “Yeah, I figured. She was too scared to tell you in person.”

Of course she was.

He nodded toward your suitcase. “Well, since you’re here, might as well unpack. I don’t bite.”

That was debatable.

Because being near Yunho always felt like standing too close to a flame.

And now, there was no escape.

—

Days turned into weeks, and you slowly fell into a routine. Yunho was surprisingly easy to live with—clean, respectful, easygoing.

But the problem wasn’t Yunho.

The problem was you.

Because you were hopelessly in love with him.

And every single day in this room was pure torture.

You’d sit at your desk, desperately pretending to study, while Yunho lounged on his bed, scrolling through his phone or tossing a baseball between his hands, his stupidly muscular forearms on full display.

Some nights, he’d come back from practice, sweaty and breathless, shaking his damp hair out before stripping off his hoodie like it was nothing.

Like he wasn’t ruining your life.

And then there were the girls.

Because, of course, girls flocked to Yunho.

And why wouldn’t they? He was tall, insanely attractive, the star athlete everyone adored.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. He wasn’t yours to be jealous over.

But it still stung.

Every time you overheard a flirtatious giggle over the phone. Every time you saw him talking to some gorgeous girl in the cafeteria. Every time he left the dorm late at night and came back with his hair messy, lips bitten.

You hated it.

You hated how much you cared.

And worst of all? Yunho noticed.

Yunho wasn’t stupid.

He noticed everything.

How your fingers tensed when he stood too close. How you bit your lip whenever he walked around shirtless after practice. How you refused to meet his gaze whenever another girl’s name popped up on his phone screen.

And Yunho, being Yunho, decided to have fun with it.

"You’re bad at hiding things, you know," he mused one evening, leaning lazily against your desk while you pretended to focus on your laptop.

Your fingers froze on the keyboard. “Hiding what?”

He tilted his head, grinning like he knew a secret.

“You tell me.”

You swallowed, refusing to take the bait. “Go away, Yunho.”

“Why?” he asked, all mock innocence. “Am I distracting you?”

Yes. Painfully.

But you weren’t about to admit that.

So, instead, you rolled your eyes, keeping your attention firmly on your screen. “I have an exam.”

“Right, right,” Yunho nodded, before casually hooking a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to his.

Your breath hitched.

His eyes burned into yours,

amusement flickering beneath something darker.

“Then why do you always get so nervous when I’m near?” he murmured.

You opened your mouth—nothing came out.

Because what the hell were you supposed to say to that?*

Yunho let out a low chuckle, thumb barely grazing your skin before he pulled away, pleased with himself.

“See?” he smirked, walking off like it was nothing.

Like he hadn’t just set your entire body on fire.

And that’s when you knew.

He wasn’t just teasing you.

He was waiting.

Waiting for you to finally break.

—

It started as a normal evening.

You sat at your desk, typing away, lost in your usual routine. Glasses perched on your nose, a silk blouse draped over your frame, tiny silk shorts barely covering your thighs. Hair tied in a messy bun.

You didn’t think much of it.

But Yunho did.

Because when you glanced up, you caught him staring.

Not his usual teasing glance.

A real, lingering, dark stare.

Something in his expression shifted.

“Yunho?” you asked cautiously.

He blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Huh?”

“You’re staring.”

His lips curled into something wicked.

“Can you blame me?” he murmured, voice lower, rougher.

Your breath hitched.

“What?”

Yunho leaned forward, resting his hands on your desk, invading your space.

“You look good,” he said, tone slow, deliberate.

Your stomach flipped.

His eyes dragged over your frame, slowly, like he was committing every inch to memory.

“I—uh—” You swallowed hard, completely losing your train of thought.

Yunho exhaled sharply, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Fuck it,” he muttered.

And then—he kissed you.

Not a hesitant, testing-the-waters kiss.

A deep, slow, searing kiss.

Like he’d been holding back for too damn long.

Your mind short-circuited. Your body froze before melting into him, his lips coaxing yours apart, the warmth of his hands branding your skin.

Every suppressed feeling, every stolen glance, every bottled-up longing between you—

It all unraveled at once.

And you were helpless to stop it.

The moment Yunho kissed you, the world seemed to tilt.

His lips crashed into yours, warm and desperate, like he had been holding himself back for too long and couldn’t stand it anymore. His hands found your waist first, fingers pressing into the silk of your blouse like he wanted to memorize the shape of you. Then, his palms roamed—one sliding up your back, the other gripping your hip, pulling you flush against him until there was no space left between your bodies.

You gasped.

He took advantage of it, deepening the kiss, groaning softly into your mouth as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shorts, gripping your bare thigh.

You shivered.

It was too much.

Too good.

Your heart pounded so violently it hurt. His scent—clean, warm, intoxicating—filled your senses, making your mind foggy as his lips moved against yours, slow but needy, like he was savoring every second.

Like he was starving for you.

But then—the doubt crept in.

Why you?

He could have any girl he wanted. He did have any girl he wanted.

And yet, here he was. With you.

It didn’t make sense.

What if this was just another conquest for him?

What if you were just another girl he’d grow bored of the next morning?

Panic surged through you, and suddenly, you were pulling away.

"Yunho, wait," you gasped, pushing against his chest.

He stilled instantly, panting, eyes dark and glazed over with something deep—but he let you go.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, voice hoarse.

You swallowed hard, hating yourself for what you were about to say.

“This—” You gestured between you two, still breathless. “I just… I don’t know if this is—if I’m—”

Yunho’s brows furrowed. "If you’re what?"

You took a deep breath, looking anywhere but his face.

"I don’t want to be just some girl to you."

Silence.

Yunho’s jaw tensed.

“You think that’s all you are?”

You let out a bitter chuckle, wrapping your arms around yourself.

"Come on, Yunho. Look at me." You motioned to yourself—small, shy, nothing like the girls that usually clung to him. "And then look at you."

His lips parted slightly, as if in disbelief.

"You’re…" You hesitated, then sighed. "You’re too handsome. Too popular. Too out of my league."

A muscle in Yunho’s jaw ticked.

He hated that.

Hated that you thought so little of yourself.

Hated that you saw him as something unreachable, when all he had ever wanted was you.

"That’s bullshit." His voice was lower now, tinged with something raw, something that made your stomach twist.

Your breath caught when he stepped closer, his fingers brushing along your jaw, gentle but firm.

“You think I want just anyone?” he murmured. “You think I’d do this with just anyone?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

His thumb traced your cheek, eyes locked onto yours with something so deep, so intense that your knees almost gave out.

“You don’t even realize how fucking beautiful you are, do you?” His voice was soft, yet aching.

Your stomach flipped.

“Yunho—”

He cut you off, tilting your chin up, kissing you again.

And this time, you didn’t resist.

Because you believed him.

Because maybe, just maybe, he had wanted you all along.

When he pulled back from the kiss, Yunho’s fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to look at him. His eyes burned with something deep, something that made your chest feel too tight.

"You really don’t get it, do you?" His voice was softer now, but still rough with restraint.

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

"You think you’re out of my league?" He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. "God, if only you knew."

His thumb traced along your bottom lip, his touch delicate, reverent.

"I’ve spent so long trying to keep my distance," he admitted. "Telling myself you were off-limits. That I had no right to want you the way I do." His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "But it didn’t matter. I still wanted you."

You blinked up at him, heart racing.

His voice dropped even lower, barely above a whisper.

"I still want you."

A shiver ran down your spine.

"You don’t even see yourself, do you?" Yunho’s fingers slid into your hair, cupping the back of your head. "You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. Every damn time you look at me, I feel like I’m coming apart."

Your stomach twisted, heat creeping up your neck.

"Every guy on campus watches you, you know that?" His grip on you tightened, his breath hot against your skin. "But they don’t get to have you. They never will. Because I’m the one who’s going to have you."

Your breath hitched.

"I don’t want anyone else, sweetheart." His lips brushed against yours, not quite a kiss, but almost. "I only want you."

And this time, when he kissed you, you didn’t pull away.

Because how could you?

The kiss deepened, and this time, you met him with just as much eagerness, fingers threading through his hair as you pressed yourself closer, needing more. His lips molded to yours with a gentle hunger, the kind that made your heart race and your body tremble.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was uneven, and there was a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes were dark, filled with longing, and for the first time, you could feel it—how deeply he desired you.

"God," Yunho murmured, his voice hushed and thick with emotion. "You’re so beautiful… I can’t even begin to describe how much you’ve been driving me crazy." His hands moved to your waist, holding you close, eyes roving over your face, drinking you in.

He cupped your cheek, thumb brushing softly over your skin, before he spoke again, voice low and sincere. "I…I want to make love to you," he said, his gaze searching for yours, his words carrying an intensity that made your breath catch. "But not just because of how you look… it’s because I want to show you how much I love everything about you. Your heart, your mind, your body…"

You felt your cheeks flush, heart beating wildly in your chest. Was he serious? Did he really want that with you?

Yunho smiled softly when he saw the nervousness in your eyes, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently, almost reverently. "I’ve loved your personality from the very first moment I met you," he continued, voice tinged with admiration and something deeper, more possessive. "But when I saw you tonight, with your glasses on, hair in that bun, and wearing that silk set… I swear I’ve never wanted anything more." He ran his thumb along your lip, his touch like fire. "You were so sexy, so… effortlessly beautiful. It’s been driving me wild, wondering if you even realized how incredible you are."

You swallowed hard, the mix of his words and touch leaving you dizzy, your shyness making you hesitant but the desire inside you growing stronger with every second. You knew how vulnerable you were right now, but with him looking at you like that, you couldn’t help but feel desirable in ways you never had before.

"Yes," you whispered shyly, voice barely audible but full of desire, a blush creeping across your cheeks. "I want you, Yunho."

His eyes softened, and a low, appreciative hum left him as he leaned in again, kissing you with a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. When he pulled back, he slowly reached up and took the glasses off your face, his gaze lingering on you as though he were savoring every detail.

With a quiet, almost reverent smile, Yunho gently lifted you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours.

He paused for a moment, forehead resting against yours as he breathed deeply. "You’re mine now," he whispered softly, his hands trailing down your back. "And I’m going to show you just how much I need you."

The soft smile on his lips was gentle but possessive, the way he held you close spoke volumes, and you melted against him, unable to resist. Yunho was everything you had imagined and more—strong, protective, tender—and now, he was yours.

Yunho’s patience had been tested enough. The second he closed the door behind him, he knew he was done. No more restraint. No more slow, teasing build-up. His control was shattered—he wanted you. Now.

He pulled you onto the bed with a swift motion, his hands grasping your waist and lifting you gently, his lips pressing against your neck, murmuring low praises. But as soon as he stood up, his gaze was unwavering as he looked at you, consuming you with his eyes.

You felt small, almost overwhelmed under his intense stare, the hunger in his eyes so palpable that it made your chest tighten. Yunho was towering over you, all power and confidence. His shirt was the first thing to go, discarded carelessly onto the floor as his muscular chest was revealed in the dim golden light of the bedroom.

You were breathless. His presence was intoxicating—his eyes never leaving yours as he took in your every detail. You felt so vulnerable, yet so incredibly desired. Your heart raced as he stood in front of you, almost like he was taking his time, savoring the moment before he finally spoke.

"Can I continue?" Yunho’s voice was a low, husky growl, the kind that made your legs weak and your pulse quicken.

"Y-Yes," you whispered, the simple word barely escaping your lips as you stared up at him, feeling smaller under his gaze.

His smile was feral. "I can’t hold back anymore."

With that, his hands moved with unrestrained urgency, undoing the buttons of your blouse. He pulled the fabric off you, exposing your smooth, glowing skin to him under the dim light. His eyes darkened as they traced every curve of your body, mesmerized by the sight of you.

You shivered at the intensity of his stare, feeling completely exposed in front of him. Yunho leaned down slightly, brushing his lips over your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. "You’re so fucking beautiful," he murmured, cursing under his breath as he took in the sight of you.

The silk blouse was discarded, leaving you in nothing but your delicate silk shorts. Yunho’s eyes locked on your lower half, and with a low growl, he removed the shorts, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled them off your legs, revealing your bare skin.

His gaze flicked back to your face, his breath hitching as he took in how vulnerable and perfect you looked, completely at his mercy. His chest rose and fell with every deep breath he took, fighting to maintain control, but it was clear he was already losing the battle.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath. "You’re killing me."

Yunho quickly discarded his pants, and as he stood there, you saw the bulge in his briefs, straining and growing more impatient by the second. You swallowed hard, feeling your breath catch in your throat. You knew what was coming, and the anticipation made your heart race.

He took a step closer, his hands resting on either side of you, trapping you in the bed, his dark eyes never leaving yours. "Hey," he said softly, his voice oddly tender despite the urgency in the air, "it���s okay. I’ll take care of you."

And you knew, deep down, that he meant it. Yunho was here to make you feel everything. And more. He wasn’t going to let you go until he had shown you just how much he wanted you.

He climbed over you in the bed and his lips trailed down your neck again, each kiss deliberate, deep, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His hands moved with purpose, exploring your skin with a tenderness that contrasted the desperate hunger in his touch. As he kissed you, his hands slid from your waist to your thighs, drawing slow circles that made you gasp softly.

The praise he had showered on you earlier filled your mind, emboldening you, making you feel seen, making you feel wanted. It was a new sensation, the weight of his words settling into your chest, making you feel lighter yet more grounded at the same time. Slowly, your hand moved from his hair to the smooth expanse of his back. The muscles beneath your fingers rippled with each shift he made, making your heart race.

His body felt so close, so perfect against yours, and with newfound boldness, your other hand drifted down, feeling the tautness of his abs as they contracted beneath your touch. Your fingers hovered near his waistband, just over the bulge that was still pressed tightly against the fabric of his briefs. You could feel the heat radiating from him, and before you even realized it, your fingers brushed over his hard cock.

Yunho’s breath hitched slightly, his eyes darkening as he met your gaze. “Mh?” he murmured, curiosity and desire mixed in his voice.

You hesitated for only a moment, but the way he looked at you, with all that intensity, made you forget your doubts. You felt a momentary surge of confidence. Slowly, you moved your hand away and met his gaze, feeling a rush of warmth flood your chest as you realized the effect you had on him.

Yunho chuckled softly, a knowing smile curving his lips as he looked down at the way your hand lingered. His fingers moved to your waistband, gently peeling your panties away, his touch reverent. His hands were steady, each movement laced with affection and desire.

Then, with equal care, you slid his briefs off, your breath catching as you glimpsed him fully for the first time. The sight made your pulse race, but his touch was always gentle, always considerate. He reached out, his hand brushing your hair away from your face, a soft smile on his lips as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful.”

Every word felt like a balm to your soul, washing away any doubts, any insecurities. The connection between you both was undeniable, and the tenderness in his voice only made it feel deeper. Yunho leaned in, pressing his forehead gently against yours, eyes closing as he exhaled softly.

“I want to take care of you, to show you just how much you mean to me,” he murmured, his voice low, thick with emotion.

You smiled softly, your heart pounding in your chest as you nodded, feeling his love surrounding you in ways words could never fully express. He kissed you again, slow and sweet, savoring the moment as if he never wanted it to end.

Yunho’s hands traced the curve of your hips, his touch igniting a warmth that spread through your entire body. His lips brushed against yours, soft and lingering, as if he were memorizing the feel of you. When he pulled back slightly, his dark eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of desire and adoration.

“Tell me,” he whispered, his voice rough yet tender, “if you want this as much as I do.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing as you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”

The word seemed to unravel something in him. His hands tightened ever so slightly on your waist, and he pressed his forehead to yours again, his breath mingling with yours. He murmured, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’ll always cherish you.”

With deliberate care, Yunho shifted and took a condom out of his private nightstand. Your eyes widened at the sight of the unopened box of condoms, making you think he'd gotten them just for you. His body aligned with yours right afger he slid it on. His hands guided you gently, his touch reverent as he positioned his cock right between your wet folds. The first brush of contact drew a soft, involuntary moan from your lips, the sound escaping like a secret you hadn’t meant to share. His eyes darkened at the sound, his gaze locking onto yours as he stilled, giving you a moment to adjust.

“You’re perfect,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “So perfect.”

The air between you was electric, charged with a longing that had been building for what felt like an eternity. Yunho’s movements were deliberate, each touch designed to make you feel cherished, adored. He thrusted in slowly, his hands steady and reassuring, as if he were handling something infinitely precious.

Yunho’s movements began with a slow rhythm, each thrust measured and tender, as if he were savoring every second of this connection. His hands roamed your body, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine, before settling on your hips to guide you gently against him. Your own hands explored the expanse of his back, fingers skimming over the taut muscles that flexed with every movement. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer until his lips met yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender.

His breath grew ragged, his voice roughening with each passing moment. “You feel… incredible,” he murmured against your lips, his words breaking into a low groan as he deepened the kiss. The sound of his voice, coarse and filled with need, sent a shiver through you, your body responding with a surge of warmth that made your breath catch.

Your whines escaped in soft, breathy gasps, rising from your chest as the pleasure built within you. Each thrust of his hips sent sparks coursing through your veins, the intensity of the moment overwhelming yet perfect. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and he answered with a kiss, his hands tightening ever so slightly on your hips.

The rhythm between you grew more urgent, yet Yunho never lost that tenderness, his movements still filled with reverence. You could feel the tension coiling within you, your body trembling as you neared the edge. “Yunho,” you whispered shyly, your voice trembling, “I’m… I’m close.”

He groaned softly, his forehead pressing against yours as he nodded. “Me too,” he admitted, his voice strained but gentle. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

His words were all the encouragement you needed. The pleasure crested, crashing over you in waves as your body shuddered beneath his. Your walls clenched around him, drawing a low, guttural curse from his lips. He stilled for a moment, his breath hitching as he fought to hold on, but the sensation was too much. With a final, shuddering thrust, he followed you over the edge, his body trembling as he buried his face in the crook of your neck and his cock deep down your cunt.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the only sound the shared rhythm of your breathing. Yunho’s hands gently caressed your back, his touch soothing as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice still rough but filled with warmth. “So amazing.”

Yunho stayed close, his body still draped over yours as his breathing slowly steadied. His hands moved gently, brushing strands of hair from your face before he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Are you okay?” he murmured, his voice warm and tender, his eyes searching yours with concern.

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “More than okay,” you whispered, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his shoulder. “That was… perfect.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and content, before rolling onto his side and pulling you into his arms. His touch was soothing, his fingers trailing lightly up and down your back as he held you close. “You’re perfect,” he corrected, his voice filled with affection. “I’m just lucky to be here with you.”

You nestled into his chest, savoring the warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. The world felt quiet, peaceful, as if nothing else mattered but the two of you in this moment. But then, the sharp buzz of your phone on the nightstand shattered the silence.

You groaned, reluctantly reaching for it. “Who could that be?” you muttered, squinting at the screen. It was a text from your best friend, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, what does she want now?”

Yunho raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Your bestie?” he asked, his tone teasing. “Or whatever she is, she did the best thing by moving in with her boyfriend.”

You blinked, turning to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, his smirk widening. “Because now I finally get to show you how much I love you without any interruptions.” His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “And trust me, I plan on doing that a lot.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you set your phone back down. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, though the warmth in your chest betrayed how much his words meant to you.

“Maybe,” he admitted, pulling you back into his arms. “But I’m yours.”

You sighed contentedly, resting your head against his chest once more. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was the man holding you, the love in his touch, and the promise of countless moments like this to come.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz @chai0tea @miyaluvvsyou

[maxtermind]

Can you please do “makes me want to wreck you” and “good. now you know what it's like.” but both in smut with lando norris and an innocent or naive reader? Thank you so much lovely ❤️

“makes me want to wreck you” + “good. now you know what it's like.”

( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: the one in which he proves just how good sex is. sex with him. ★:feat:: lando norris x reader ★:genre:: smut

it took you embarrassingly long to focus on what your boyfriend was saying. you could see his lips moving, but your poor clit was pressed so hard between your thighs that it was impossible to concentrate on anything else.

“you better start answering,” he purred against your ear, catching you off guard. “or i might walk out of this room right now.”

these were empty threats. you would actually pay him to see if he would walk out, and if you weren’t so hyper-aware of him, you might get richer but—

“tsk,” he murmured nonchalantly as he pressed his knee into the small space between your legs, pushing them apart and grinding slowly, painfully against your clit. “do you want me to walk out when she's— fuck,” lando cursed when you caught his arm and tried to match his rhythm.

“she's fucking weeping for me,” he growled, cursing again as you started whimpering against him. “thought you said— shit, that you've never done this before.”

he was right; you were so wet that the rough surface of his jeans was getting a dark, damp spot. you were leaking through your panties, not even daring to look down at the ruined material.

“p-promise i've never,” you choked out as another moan slipped from your mouth. he was pressing just the right amount against your little bud, every nudge and brush leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“i... i don’t know what to do,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, clearly lying through your teeth. but you genuinely didn’t know; your body was moving as if it had a mind of its own.

“you can still talk?” lando raised an eyebrow, putting more weight on his knee as he stopped moving, restraining you from shamelessly grinding your pussy on him to get off. “guess i need to step up my game.”

one second you were half-sitting on the couch, and the next, he was pulling you using your feet, a yelp leaving your mouth. “wha... god!”

your nipples hurt when the motion made them rub against your shirt, a reaction not lost on your boyfriend, who immediately bent down to bite a clothed one.

“oh— lan...” you murmured, knowing the bastard was thoroughly satisfied that you couldn't finish your sentence.

“you're so adorable when flustered,” lando whispered, looking up at you in awe. the look in his eyes alone made you feel so loved, so desirable for the first time that—

“it makes me want to wreck you,” he hissed as he pinched your nipple with his hand and continued lightly biting on the other one.

you were both technically fully clothed, and it bewildered you that sex— this wasn't even 'sex'— could feel so good that it was making you lose your mind.

you wanted to point and laugh at your past self, who rolled her eyes when her friend said, “you just wait for the right person; they'll have you crumbling in seconds.”

“always fucking lost in your head,” your boyfriend— your right person— grunted as he rubbed his erection against your leg while assaulting your hard nipples.

how the fuck was all of this so fucking hot from over the clothes? were you insane for even liking this?

“w-won’t stop,” lando threw his head back, shivering when he probably rubbed a sensitive part against you. “won’t stop till all you t- fuck, think about is me.”

he must have been insane to even think you could think about anything but him—

smack!

“that’ll teach you,” he grinned as your lower lip wobbled. lando instantly rubbed at the skin of your thigh turning red before he got up and spread your legs wide. “haa…” he let out in wonder.

lando climbed back into the space between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. he hovered over you, his hands bracing on either side of your head. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze intense. “do you have any idea what you do to me?”

you shook your head, unable to find your voice. the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered— it was overwhelming.

“well, i guess i better show you then,” lando huffed, his eyes soft before he settled his other knee against your glistening lips.

he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue exploring your mouth. you moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with everything you had. the feel of his body pressing against yours, the heat of his skin— it was all-consuming.

every touch, every movement sent jolts of pleasure through your body. you could hardly believe this was happening, that someone could make you feel this way. the pressure against your clit was driving you wild, the rough texture of his jeans adding an edge that had you teetering on the brink.

“lando, ngh! p-please,” you whimpered, once again instinctively moving to grind against his knee. the friction was intense, building a pressure inside you that was about to explode.

he chuckled darkly, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and desire. “look at you,” he murmured. “so fucking desperate for me. do you want to come, darling?”

you nodded frantically, unable to form coherent words. the need was overwhelming, consuming you entirely. “puh-lease,” you managed to gasp out.

tears rolled down your cheeks when he didn’t reply. was he going to stretch this out? “lando,” you whimpered, your voice desperate.

he shushed you gently, “i know, love. i’ve got you.” the words were a promise, a reassurance. he wasn’t going to stop until he had you coming undone beneath him.

you were teetering on the edge, every nerve ending on fire. when his mouth resorted to nibbling and sucking at your neck, you cried out, your back arching off the bed like a slut, just for him. the sensation was overwhelming, his touch driving you wild.

“good girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with pride. “you’re doing so good.”

you could barely think, your mind a haze of pleasure. his fingers moved inside you, each stroke pushing you closer to the brink. you panted, your body trembling with the need to just let go.

“please,” apparently you couldn’t stop begging, your voice barely audible. “i need… i need…”

lando smirked, his movements becoming more deliberate. he pressed his knee harder against your clit, fingers unabashedly toying with your nipples. “come for me, love,” he whispered. “show me how good i make you feel.”

that. that was all it took. with a cry, you came undone, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

it was intense, almost too much, and yet not enough. you clung to him, your nails digging into his arms as you rode out the orgasm, your mind blank except for the sensation of him against you.

as you slowly came back to yourself, you realized you were panting, your body trembling with aftershocks. lando was watching you with a satisfied smile, his eyes dark with lingering desire. “wow,” you breathed, your voice shaky. “this is what i’ve been missing out on?”

he leaned down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. “you have no idea,” he murmured against your lips. “and we’re just getting started.”

you looked up at him, your heart swelling with a mix of affection and lust. “i'm ruined,” you said softly. “i want this— you— all the time.”

lando's smile widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he looked down at his zipper, making you do the same. “good,” he replied, his voice low and possessive. “now you know what it’s like.”

a new, very odd sensation filled your chest when you saw his ruined jeans. satisfied that you made him come without even touching him, you grinned, feeling a sense of pride and anticipation for what’s to come.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★:a/n:: woah what a way to kick start the event! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3

[ozzgin]

Heyyy just checked your masterlist and saw that despite you being into obey me! fandom, you don't have a fic. I'm married to Solomon in my mind so how about a situation where the reader (fem or gn your pick) is equally in love with this old man and begs him to recreate that time potion which made him immortal. Oh? Did i mention i want him to be a yandere? Please do that as well ^^

I love me my morally grey wizard ;)

I have 3 unfinished drafts for Diavolo, Barbatos and Satan on my Wattpad, but it was around the time I started getting Baki related requests here so I haven’t had the time to continue them. This goes for everyone reading, if you see a fandom title with no works you can always request something! :) This blog is only a few months old and I wasn’t writing much before (twice or thrice a year if I was generously inspired), so the variety is rather limited still. (I also finish requests at the pace of a snail, sorry about that)

Yandere! Solomon x Reader Headcanons

Featuring your fellow human classmate and now soon-to-be husband who couldn’t be happier about your wish to spend an eternity with him.

Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior

It started rather subtle. Just idle curiosity at first, a mere feigned surprise that was quickly swept aside for more important matters. Sure, Diavolo bringing another fellow human to the Devildom, especially one without any powers, was at least mildly intriguing. Your situation was as tempting as a puzzle to fiddle with in between tasks. Beyond polite offers to help you handle the new challenging environment, Solomon was not planning on prying further. Then the surprises begun to queue one after another. To think that you had barely learned your way around and somehow still forged a contract with one of the devilish siblings. Then another. And another. Fascination crept its way in and the greatest sorcerer found himself begging to learn more about the mysterious (Y/N).

Naturally such fascination should’ve had an intellectual grounding and nothing more. What is it about you that has caused such a ruckus across RAD? All he needed was an answer. Yet he discovered much too late how embarrassingly involved he’d become. Childishly clutching his D.D.D. in the middle of the night, wondering if you’ve already fallen asleep, and grinning when the screen lit up with a response from you. Cancelling all plans the instant you’d ask - casually - if he wanted to join you after class to check out a new café. No, of course he had nothing else to do. Yes, it’s definitely a lucky coincidence that he’s always available when you want to hang out with him.

Once he accepted he was madly in love with you, he began fretting over all possible obstacles. The demon brothers, life after RAD. He’d never engaged much with other humans and his charisma only covered superficial pleasantries. How was he to properly convey that he’s - mildly put - obsessed with you to the point where rejection won’t be taken lightly? Uh oh. Closer to a threat than a confession. Thankfully the Heavens were gracious and you immediately returned his affections. No need for potions or hexes (not that he would’ve…he had them prepared just in case). He remembers it to this day, years after, the wide, innocent smile that you so generously bestowed upon him. Almost like a premonition, he knew you’d be the person to marry. Something he never considered in his long, lonely life.

You lazily lift your hand and admire the ring again. Solomon is quite clumsy and forgetful, but he goes all out for the things that matter. The proposal had been planned to a dizzying amount of detail and you couldn’t believe how much thought he put into it, with many aspects you otherwise assumed he’d forget or omit. Yet staring at the intricately carved band adorning your finger now, you can’t help the pang of melancholy blooming in your chest. Solomon lifts his gaze from the book he’s reading, sensing your discomfort. “Something bothering you?” He inquires with a hint of worry in his voice. “What happens after the wedding?” You demand, turning to face him. “Oh my. I personally prefer to focus on the present.” He answers with a chuckle. “Sure, because you don’t have to worry about your future. It’s mine that will end at some point.” His eyes widen and his hands are suddenly cold. He’s been so entranced by your company that he didn’t even entertain the idea of a potential end to it. He almost strokes his cheek to soothe the hard slap of your words, leaving him in a frightened stupor.

Oh no. No, no, no. Within the blink of an eye he finds himself standing before the alchemy shelves, rattling the bottles for the right ingredients. You didn’t even need to mutter a word. He knew exactly what you’re thinking of. How shameful of him to have caused you this distress in the first place. You’re young, and time for him has lost its human meaning, so your mortality hadn’t crossed his mind this entire time. He would’ve found a solution for it later, most certainly, but he didn’t expect this postponement to make you so anxious. His lips are quivering and his slender fingers are visibly trembling. Partly from the fear of almost failing you as your future husband, partly from the excitement of what’s about to come. He always imagined there’d be nothing more beautiful and precious to witness than you in your wedding attire as you tie the knot. But now? Oh, how ravishingly tempting and seducing, the fact that he can listen to the mundanely repeated words of “Til death do us part” and stare down its meaning until there’s nothing left of it. Not quite. Not for you two. The veil will be lifted and your face will radiate eternity.

After all, nothing will stand between him and his fated soulmate. What’s death to a wizard of his caliber?

[tennessoui]

im sure this has been done soooo many times but gffa au where anakin goes to the jedi council and fesses up to being married and they immediately think he means to obi-wan and he thinks they understood that it's to padmé

("how old were you when you got married?" "Nineteen, just after I became a Jedi Knight. I wasn't a padawan anymore!"

"Consensual, was it? Feel pressured, did you?"

"Not at all! I had to do the convincing. I really begged, for like. an embarrassingly long amount of time. I wanted this marriage more than anything in the entire galaxy."

"Has this marriage affected your reasoning during the war?"

"no way! We have the same principles, fight for the same things. Now I'm just fighting to come home as well so we can be together again.")

and anakin doesn't realize this until obi-wan gets back from a mission, does his debrief with the council, and comes to anakin's quarters with the strangest look on his face. "padawan, why did six members of the Jedi Council just wish me congratulations on my nuptials? to. my. former. padawan."

and anakin is gobsmacked and goes about trying to set the record straight, but now no one believes that he isn't married to obi-wan. they think padmé has agreed to be the cover-up because obi-wan got pissy that anakin told the council before he felt ready.

and to top it all off, now anakin can't stop thinking about actually being married to his master. he hadn't realized that was an option?? but everyone's making some pretty strong cases for it......

[battlekidx2]

I'm making this post purely to shout out some incredibly talented fanfic writers from the Hazbin Hotel fandom and my favorite works of theirs.

Did anyone ask me for this? No. Will I post it anyway? Absolutely. The writers in this fandom are too good.

The first fanfic writer I want to shout out is @prince-liest (ao3 link)

I absolutely love their get cared for idiot (Alastor) series (not the official name but they called it that in one of their asks jokingly so it's now the default in my head).

Knock, Knock! It's Your Worst Fucking Nightmare! (this fic gets it!!!! This is what I meant when I said Alastor is growing a heart and part of him is raging against it. He still has ulterior motives and a massive amount of pride and part of him feels like that growing fondness is getting in the way, but he can't stop it. I need to stop before this becomes a long ramble. I've written a couple thousand words on this idea, but this fic is just a better use of your time than any meta I could ever write and way more entertaining :D )

Happily Ever After, and Other Shit Nepotism Can't Buy

The Last Bus Stop in Hell, Now Boarding (Please look at the tags for content warning. Angel and Alastor body swap story.)

They're amazing at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor where there's a heart in there (really deep) and he's unintentionally growing attached to the hazbin crew, but he doesn't lose his edge. He's still manipulative and an asshole and can easily be the scariest guy in any room. He's in hell for a reason. A+ characterization at all times.

They're so good at writing the complicated dynamics he has with the residents, especially Charlie, and I enjoy how they expand on Alastor's potential dynamic with Angel Dust.

Anything they write from Lucifer's POV is gold too! My favorites are:

Take Two and Leave a Voicemail!

The Care and Keeping of Homo Angelus

I am also 100% here for their Aro!Alastor agenda and I'm enjoying their fic I Love Her, I Love Her Not so far!

The second person I want to shout out is @grayintogreen (ao3 link)

Their series Red Roses and Dead Things consistently gut punches me.

Just like Princeliest, they are also fantastic at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor. A+ characterization for everyone and I love how they write HuskerDust. It's so soft, especially in the aftermath fic for Learn that Even Death May Die called If My Love Is Tomorrow, I've Forgotten Yesterday (that fic hurt in the best way).

The way they explore the aftermath of Learn that Even Death May Die is incredibly impactful. They capture the unique grief that comes from the reality that there are some things you won't get closure for so well that it's painful.

I can't say enough good things about their series. Genuinely go read it.

I found @lediz-watches (ao3 link) before the first season of Hazbin Hotel dropped (I've been a fan of the hellaverse for a few years now and have been enthralled with the Hazbin Hotel pilot since I first watched it in 2020) and I really enjoy their fics.

My favorite is Suffering Kindness. I love the Charlie and Alastor dynamic they explore in this story. I think I'm just a sucker for the Charlie and Alastor dynamic in general, but this fic hits all the right notes for me. (written pre-season 1 but man is it good. 100% recommend)

LeDiz also has a lot of one-shots/collections of one-shots that are very fun.

The Cure for Inexorable Boredom

Dollface (one-shots about Alastor theories. My favorite is the 3rd one. So fascinating!)

Choice Words (one of the few explorations of Alastor and Vaggie's dynamic that I've found in the fandom)

Don't Say It

I have to shout out @ckret2 (ao3 link) and their phenomenal fic You’ve Got a Face for Radio. This is such an amazing aroace!Alastor fic. (Embarrassingly it was this fic that made me realize I was most likely aroace myself. I’d had fleeting moments of suspecting it but it wasn’t until I saw my experiences laid out in a character explicitly written to be aroace that I put the puzzle pieces together. -_- some of these passages were too relatable.) I cannot express how much I love this fic.

I also like their fics Dumpster Baby and Bitter Grapes.

I have one last writer I want to mention because this is getting really long (whoops). The last one is tiredoflofteranditsshit and their Assume He Has a Heart series (because my favorite character and how I interpret them was not obvious enough already with the fics/authors I've recommended. I had to make it more obvious).

These fics are massive (17k and 26k words) and so much fun. Definitely worth the read. Yet another series that follows up season 1 and explores Alastor’s growing connections and how he lies to himself and pushes against it. Love this series and there’s a lot to sink your teeth into :D

[marali-iin]

Howdy!

Could I request something with Apollo, maybe about Reader having been missing and him searching for her or something like that? Feel free to take the idea in whatever direction you like!

YESSS

An Apollo request, you have no idea how happy it made me my dear anonymous. He's literally my favorite god.

(I wasn't sure like in what context you wanted it, so I made the time period as vague as possible. Feel free to interpret it in either modern days or ancient Greece)

His loved devotee went missing

Alright, it wasn't like he was panicking or anything, he was simply....concerned.

It's not like it was his fault though, you'd make quite the habit of praying to him and giving him offerings, or simply lighting up the candles of your altar for him, or who knows, think of him and make a sun drawing on a random paper. He'd gotten used to it, but it's not like he needed it...

But it's been four weeks, where the hell are you?! Everything, literally everything you used to do for him at least once a week, suddenly gone, all of the sudden, out of nowhere, you, stopped. Not a single prayer or candle

It was fine at first, nobody's perfect, you are a mortal after all, you may not have time that week or were too tired, he understood. He was a cool god, he wasn't going to smite you out of existence for such a simple thing

But then it was as if you didn't care at all about him, it was...odd. You weren't his favourite follower, he had many more, he didn't need your offerings, but he still appreciated them. He still felt happy to read the simple poem you tried to compose to him, he took his time to try to communicate with you by the flames of your candles, heck, he even made sure to try not to burn you by driving his charriot too close.

It just felt dull, he used to look forward to your prayers, maybe he had just gotten used to it but now without them it was weird, as if something was missing.

You

He missed you

He regretted every prayer he didn't show himself to you, every offering he simply collected and didn't actually taste and admire through as he should've. Every drawing or song you made about him, he wished now he'd kept them closer to his heart, because how he missed them. He was centuries old, he had some of the most brilliant and magnificent cults in his honor, he killed the mythic python and was praised for it, he was one of the gods with the most lovers, his own kids got to be gods or legends; and still, he missed you, his heart ached in loneliness of not having you, he wasn't even sure if he had one before! But the pain was real, and if he was a mortal..he would've cried

He knew he would've been SOBBING, begging the gods to bring you back to him, but he wasn't, because he WAS the god, yet he still missed you.

It took him a while, he had to swallow his pride and admit the truth: he needed to find you, but he didn't even know where to look. It was difficult to find your altar, he usually just sat and enjoyed your praises when you called for him, he never looked around to figure out where it was, he was doomed! But still, he had to try, his entire self was begging to hear you once more

Maybe another god took you? He knew how that usually went, and he didn't like it at all, it could mean you were dead! But it wasn't time to be pessimistic, because he did manage to remember something, a rosemary plant. Now it wasn't THAT much, but it was better than nothing, he knew that from your altar, if you looked outside you'd see a rosemary plant, he just needed to find it.

It wasn't easy, he always thought the human realm was pretty simple..oh boy, it took him an embarrassingly long amount of time to find it, but it looked exactly like what he remembered, or at least he thought it did. Was this why you stopped worshiping him? Because he was an asshole and didn't appreciate you enough when he had it? He'd understand if it was now, because even he was hating how much he took your appreciation for granted. But at least it was something, and the fates had a little bit of compassion with him, because it was the right plant.

☀️

You took a step back, absolutely surprised and scared at the same time, you were apparently schizophrenic now? How the hell did a random man appear in front of you, and why did he feel so...familiar? There was something about him, a certain warmth, you knew you'd felt it before, when you were sure your prayers were being heard and your offerings held by Apollo..it was the same feeling.

"where have you been?" He didn't show himself in all his glory to you, despite how much he wanted to, to be completely honest with you in every way of how he was and what he'd ever be, but he didn't want you to die from embracing his truly godly form either. It didn't matter what pathetic excuse you had for yourself, or if you actually had a valid reason, your words were cut before they could leave your mouth as he stepped forward all the way to you and held you in a tight hug. He didn't want to hear it right now, he didn't need to. "I've been looking for you.."

He just needed you two to simply, be, finally reunite. He missed you

[sc0tters]

Forever Yours | Mat Barzal

summary: when Mat’s words send the argument too far it sends him into a day of true self reflection.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing.

word count: 3.41k

authors note: this request was really good and I tried to fulfil it as well as I could and do that little bit more for it too. It took my an embarrassingly long amount of time to write this but I think that it was all worth it in the end. I really did love this one so I’m hoping that you guys did too, so to those of you who do read it all, thank you.

Today was one of those days.

The one where you want to crawl into a ball and hope that if you shut your eyes tight enough you’ll wake up and realise that it was all just some bad dream.

Zack your youngest has been clinging to your side as he is going through teething. Then the twins who were weeks away from turning four were having the worst time of their lives. Whilst Oscar lost his teddy bear to the family lab Marley, Marcus only wanted his father who was far too busy preparing for the end of the season’s playoff run.

And that brings that to why you were having a bad day.

The crockpot decided to turn off at some point during the day so you no longer had dinner cooking, Amazon delivered your package that had the boys presents in it to the scary neighbour. The boys had you chasing them around publix because they kept on running away. And to top it all off you had dirty laundry that could have been coming out of your ears you had so much to do.

Which is why you were honestly giving yourself a pat on the back for getting Zack to sleep before Mat came home “daddy!” Marcus cheered running over to his father who came in the front door.

You wiped your hands on the kitchen cloth that was in front of you before you turned to where the noise had been coming from “hi love.” You yawned as your eyes grew heavy when the lack of sleep that you had began to catch up with you.

Mat furrowed his brows as he saw that the dinner table wasn’t even set yet “boys already eat?” He asked giving you a side hug.

A quick shake of your head had him scoffing “what the hell was so important today that you couldn’t get dinner ready for five thirty?” The hockey player had a rough day where he couldn’t seem to score a single goal during practice today and he brought that negative mood home with him “boys why don’t you go to the playroom?” You asked the twins sending their father a glare “we are not doing this with them here.” You warned as the boys ran off unaware of the glaring match that their parents held.

Mat crossed his arms as he tapped his foot against the floor “you haven’t answered my question yet.” His voice was condescending as it made you feel sick to your stomach.

You sighed “day just got really out of hand.” You mumbled picking up that he wasn’t going to be interested in hearing about what your sons had gotten up to today.

From the lost teeth to breakdowns in the grocery store, if you could name it the event probably happened.

Yet your words didn’t harbour the response you hoped “I don’t go to work for you guys to sit on your fucking asses all day!” Mat hadn’t noted when his frustration on his day morphed into frustration about you.

At this point one of the twins began crying “sitting on my ass?” You let out a laugh “do you know how hard it is to raise these boys myself?” You crossed your arms. You loved your kids but you were getting spread far too thin to keep yourself afloat.

Now you had both clearly gone too far “from where I stand it’s a pretty easy job.” Those words came with a slash of a knife that couldn’t exactly be taken back.

The look on your face in that very moment was one that Mat hadn’t seen before “if you think it is so easy then you take the kids tomorrow.” You proposed with a smirk “what are you gonna do?” Mat couldn’t believe that he was entertaining your thoughts.

Quickly the penny dropped in your head “the girls haven’t seen me in months. They want to go to a spa.” You raised your eyebrows with a smirk “deal.” Mat nodded his head as he reached his hand out to shake yours.

Part of you found it sad to believe that this was what you had gotten to “where are you going?” Mat wrapped his hand around your arm as you went to move away “to deal with our crying child because it clearly seems that you aren’t planning on it!” You shot back clenching your fists as you walked into the playroom.

Whilst you spent the night taking care of your boys tucking them in Mat was on the phone to Anthony debriefing the events that had happened “you were an ass dude.” The younger boy rolled his eyes as he rubbed his hand along his jaw.

Years ago you would have been Anthony’s dream girl, you were Anthony’s dream girl but when Mat won you the younger boy took his defeat gracefully “look I can’t exactly go and tell her I fucked up now?” Mat grumbled as he stared at the ring in the box.

Six years of dating and three kids to show for it yet no ring on your finger, or at least not yet “sorry dude.” Anthony apologised as he shook his head “you have to lie in the bed that you have made.” He shrugged seeing Mat’s face soaked in regret.

So Mat got to watch as he realised the consequences of his actions “I will say that she does love you just as much as she loves those kids.” As godfather to all three Tito could see just how much all three of those kids meant to you “so if y/n is y/n then I suggest you start looking for the checklists.” The comment about your organisation skills made both boys laugh.

Getting to watch you craft the step by step lists that you loved so much made Mat’s days “I should get going.” The Islander player sighed seeing the bedroom door open as your body appeared.

You sent Mat an awkward smile as you watched him throw his phone to the side “hey-” Mat spoke up as you went to your closet.

Pulling random items of clothing together you tried to ignore your boyfriend “the boys are down.” You announced grabbing onto some old band tee that you had found in your closet “so I’m going to sleep in the guest room tonight.” Mat wanted to argue, he wanted you in his bed because as much as you so badly wanted him to feel a of the ounce of the stress that you had felt dealing with the rough parts of the single parenting lifestyle this week.

But instead he watched on “you sure?” Were the only words that he could find in his mind that his mouth would let out.

It was a far cry from the fight you wanted him to put up “I thought I’d been sleeping with a guy who wanted to see me today, but since that isn’t the case I’d rather be alone.” You sent Mat a nod feeling too tired to cause a fight tonight.

The guest bedroom was bleak in comparison to your bedroom. The walls were decorated yet the love that had been soaked into the walls of your room hadn’t been carried to the very room that you sat in.

Playing with the beaten up hem of the band tee you had grabbed only now realising the memories that had woven themselves into the stitched fabric.

This was more than just a simple shirt to you and Mat. This was the first shirt you stole from him, the shirt you were in when he asked you to move in. The one when you went into labour with Zack. If something could capture your relationship. It was that shirt.

ABBA blared through the speakers of your apartment as you danced to it. Mat had been on a road trip for the last two weeks and you being heavily pregnant you were in nothing but Mat’s shirt.

The boy ended up arriving quietly as you couldn’t hear him over the sound of the music “holy shit!” You clutched at your chest as you locked eyes with the boy “I was just starting to enjoy that show.” Mat frowned as he pushed off from against the doorframe.

His hands ran over your stomach as he smiled “missed you.” His words were soft as he kissed your lips.

You looked like a sight for sore eyes in his shirt “missed you too.” You smiled as you ran your finger over his cheek.

So you couldn’t help it when you stared in the mirror and watched on as tears welled in your eyes making you unlock your phone “momma.” You sobbed as the call connected “Mat and I had a fight.”

When Mat woke up that next morning the mix of the irritated looks on the twins faces and the lack of your presence on the other side of the bed served as a reminder for the events of the previous night.

Oscar was the first to speak up “we’re gonna be late.” He pointed to the clock making Mat’s eyes go wide “where is your mom?” Mat groaned rubbing his eyes as the sleep caught in his fingers.

Marcus pulled the note out of his pyjama shorts pocket “momma gave this to me.” Of course you had gone and kissed the boys before you left to head to New Jersey for the day.

𝒯𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓅 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓃𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒵𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝒹𝑜𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓃𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝑒. 𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒.

Getting both boys dressed was one thing but almost forgetting that Zack was asleep in his cot truly took the cake “forgetting someone?” Oscar furrowed his eyebrows as he pointed at the picture of the three boys you had taken for Christmas “fuck me!” Mat pinched the bridge of his nose “swear jar!” The twins spoke at the same time as they watched Mat run back upstairs.

Mat had realised that he had truly screwed up when the boys didn’t even say goodbye to him when they left “tell mom we miss her.” Oscar mumbled as he let the car door shut with a slam behind him.

Zack was peacefully playing with the toy that Marcus had dropped into his hands “you okay buddy?” Mat looked into the rear view mirror to see that his youngest was now looking back at him “mama!” Zack cooed as he let out a giggle “I know, I miss her too.” The hockey player let out a sigh as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel in front of him.

You let the warm water of the jacuzzi calm your nerves as you peacefully sipped on your mimosa “so what did Mat do?” Maisie asked as she cocked her head.

It pulled your attention away from the bubbling water “what makes you think that he did something?” You shot back ignoring her smirk “it’s been three years since we last went to the spa. What has your husband done to bring you back here?” Before kids the spa was a bimonthly tradition for the two of you.

Maisie sighed as you kept quiet “boyfriend and we fought.” You corrected her looking down at your bare ring finger “tell me what happened.” She reached out to hold your hand “basically-” you were cut off by the sound of your phone ringing “hello?” You asked quickly answering it.

“I know you said that Mr Barzal was picking the boys up today but the boys are still here.” It was forty minutes after the boys were meant to be picked up “I’ll be right there.” You cursed the universe as you got up.

Water ran down your body “Mat forgot the twins at school.” You explained shaking your head “I’m sorry but I have to-” stress made your cheeks turn red “go, I’ll come with.” Maisie didn’t even have you finish talking before she followed you out of there.

Mat bounced Zack in his arms as they walked back to the car “what does your mom want?” Mat furrowed his eyebrows to see that you had sent him twenty missed calls.

You didn’t let him get a word in “Mat you have done some stupid things in your life but this truly takes the cake.” You spat pinching the bridge of your nose.

Thankfully for you the twins always assumed that you were the one meant to pick them up so they didn’t realise that they had been forgotten about “hi dad!” Marcus giggled from the back of the car “shit.” Mat slapped his hand over his mouth “swear jar!”

Mat knew he had screwed up once more “Zack had a good check up and that ear infection is gone!” The hockey player let out an awkward sigh as he watched Zack babble on to himself.

You wanted to yell at him but for now you were going to have to remain quiet “we can talk about it at home.” You hung up before Mat could say anything more to you “I think momma’s gonna kill me.” Mat groaned shaking his head as he placed Zack into his car seat.

Maisie had kept you calm until she left wanting to give you a moment to gather your thoughts before Mat came home “mama!” Zack cooed as the front door opened.

He was happy on his fathers hip until he saw you “he didn’t take his bottle today.” Mat explained as Zack reached out to grab you “it’s because he’s teething.” You explained handing your baby the teething toy you had grabbed when you heard the door open.

That served as another reminder to Mat about your strengths as a parent “where are the boys?” Guilt began to consume him as he thought about what he had done to the twins “playroom.” You tilted your head in their direction.

Mat sent you a nod “can we talk?” He pleaded wanting everything to go back to how it was.

All of his teammates had sent him messages expressing how they were on your side because Mat fucked up “you go talk to your sons, I’m gonna feed this one.” You shook your head not agreeing with him “then we can talk.” You sent him a soft smile before you walked upstairs wanting to feed Zack in peace.

The twins were forever on your side no matter how much they missed their father “you know mom told Nana.” Oscar knew about his grandmother’s distaste for Mat. She always did believe that her daughter deserved more than a hockey player who was keeping her in New York.

Mat frowned at the news “I’m sorry I’ve been really shitty to you both.” He apologised watching the twins look at each other with a smirk “I know I’ll put another dollar in the swear jar.” He added in a predictable tone.

The twins got up when their father dropped his head to stare at the ground as he crouched in front of them “I think we can let you get a free pass.” Oscar announced wrapping his arms around Mat “but only if you go apologise to mom.” Marcus added on replicating his brothers actions “yeah I miss moms waffles.” Oscars complaints brought a smile to Mat’s face.

It made him laugh as he nodded “I think I can find a way to make sure you guys get those.” The boys let out a cheer at the news.

Zack had fallen asleep the moment he finished eating “can we talk?” Mat asked as he knocked on the door to see you sat on the bed as you folded laundry.

Your absolute definition of the worst thing on the planet.

Mat laughed as he watched you scrunched up your face reacting to how he folded clothes “you got something you want to say?” Mat raised his eyebrows as he placed his boxers on the table in front of him.

You sighed “you’re doing it wrong.” You shook your head as you reached out to fix what he had done.

It made him smirk “what?” You looked for an answer to his amused expression “as someone who hates folding laundry you are doing a pretty good job.” Mat pointed out as he crossed his arms.

Your mouth formed an o as you let out a gasp “cause you’re doing it wrong!” You threw his boxers at him “want to show me the right way to do it?” You raised your eyebrows as you heard his offer “if that was to get me into your bed once more-” your relationship with the boy had only been going on for a few weeks but you had been friends for years.

The hockey player grabbed your hand as he pulled you onto his lap “then I’d have to try a lot less to be a lot more successful.” Mat brushed his hand along your cheek “I’d like to see you try.” You let out a squeal when he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom.

When Mat’s body weight pressed against the mattress it pulled you away from that memory “I don’t know how you do that everyday.” Mat blurted out as he looked at you.

It brought you some comfort hearing his apology “you are incredible and I was stupid.” The hockey player continued as he ran his fingers through his hair “that’s one way to put it.” You let out a soft laugh “I’m so sorry for everything I did.” Mat reached out to grab your hand.

You smiled at the contact “thank you.” Your voice was soft as you sent him a smile “and I promise I will never leave our children at school again.” His words made you laugh “I’m not letting you live that one down.” You shook your head as he grinned “thought as much.”

Both of you remained silent for a moment just enjoying the peace “I appreciate your apology.” You mumbled fiddling with your nails.

Mat stopped you as he forced your fingers down to the mattress “I have something I need to tell you.” The hockey player announced reaching over to his bedside cabinet.

You shook your head stopping him “I have something to say first.” Amit the chaos that was yesterday you failed to tell Mat the news “you go first then.” He let the box drop into his drawer as he waited to hear what it was that you had to say.

He smiled as he watched you run into the bathroom with a smile on your face “Zack was meant to wear this really cute onesie that I ordered when I thought about this but-” Mat cut you off as he got up to follow you “just spit it out.” His voice was soft as he sent you a thumbs up.

You showed him the pregnancy test as you chewed at the inside of your cheek “say something?” Somehow you were more nervous about showing it to him now than you had for any of the other three pregnancies combined.

Mat pursed his lips together “I was going to say this to you in a few minutes but I’ll do it now.” A moment truly hadn’t felt better than this one did.

He dropped to his knee “I can’t see my life without you and today cemented that more than any other did.” Mat confessed making you smile “the ring is in my drawer-” he rambled making you grin “just ask me so I can say yes you big goof!” You kneeled as you smiled locking your hand with his.

“Marry me so I can spend the rest of my life with you?”

Eight and a half months later

Mat and you enjoyed the last moments of silence as you stared at your newest edition of the family.

But of course the moment had to end eventually when Anthony opened the door with the twins and Zack in tow “is my goddaughter everything we thought she would be and more?” Anthony smiled as he carried a bouquet in his hands as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

Mat nodded crouching down to show the boys their sister “couldn’t have said it better myself.” He nodded knowing that this was going to be the child that was truly going to wrap everyone around her finger.

[iovetecchou]

⌜Love To Hate You ⧸ Hate To Love You⌟ 𓂃༞♡

༞ Gojo Satoru x Reader

༞ Contains...! enemies to lovers trope, implied hidden feelings, "princess" used as a nickname for the reader, a bit of nanami x reader in this part, bickering, banter, implied jealousy, suggestive, making out, groping, boners (lmao)

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 2,260 words.

༞ Part 2/? Part 1.

Gojo fucking Satoru. 

Just what was that back there? Getting all serious on you out of the blue and kissing you like his life depended on it? 

That jerk. It's as if Gojo's whole life purpose was to get on your nerves. Your mind recounted the embrace over and over, feeling hot from the mix of lust and rage coursing through your veins. 

"Is... everything alright, Y/N?" Nanami cleared his throat. His voice pulled you from your stupor, eyes trailing to meet his. Nanami's gaze held concern from where he sat across you at the dinner table, making you feel inherently guilty. 

But why did you feel so much guilt? It's not like you were the one who initiated the kiss! But you did welcome his embrace in an embarrassingly short amount of time. Plus, you couldn't stop thinking about how you wanted to do it again. Over and over until- 

"Y-Yeah! Everything is fine. I just have a lot on my mind- that's all!" You stuttered. Your gaze shifted from his as you took a sip from your drink, mentally scolding yourself for worrying Nanami. 

Nanami's expression told you that he didn't completely believe your half-assed excuse, but he would let it go- for now. "As long as you're alright, Y/N." 

You nodded in agreement, letting out a small "Mhm!" before indulging in your meal. The restaurant your coworker brought you to was lovely, and so was his company. But your mind was too preoccupied with Gojo; and you hated yourself for it. 

You drowned your thoughts out with the liquor that burned on the way down. Grabbing the reins on your mind and allowing yourself to enjoy the rest of the night. With absolutely no Gojo-shaped distractions. 

You were right; the alcohol tremendously helped clear your mind. Your night with Nanami improved after you let loose, thoroughly getting to speak with him openly and unabashedly. He was a nice guy, a really nice guy. 

Nanami offered to walk you home after dinner, not trusting you to find your way home safely- considering your current intoxicated state. You wobbled down the sidewalk, giggling to yourself when you missed your footing, and you could have sworn you heard a chuckle escape Nanami, too. 

"This is me!" You giggled, turning on your heel a little too fast- making you stumble slightly. 

"Woah, easy there." Nanami's strong hands gripped your shoulders, stopping you from falling on your face. 

"Thanks for tonight, Nanami! I had a loooot of fun!" You snickered, moving your hands to grip his waist for added support. 

You smiled up at him brightly, swaying from side to side. Nanami chuckled as he watched you rock back and forth. "It was my pleasure, Y/N. And please, call me Kento." 

Your smile grew tenfold. You had only been at Jujutsu High for a couple of months, not having much luck making friends. Only enemies. So, to be on a first-name basis with Nanami reassured you that you were finally finding people you could rely on.  

"Okaaay! Thank you, Kento!" Your hands squeezed his waist playfully, pulling a small grunt from Nanami. Just as you were about to turn toward your doorway- Nanami grasped your chin, locking onto your gaze as he brought his face down to your level. 

"Goodnight, Y/N," Nanami whispered. He slowly brought his free hand down to your waist, pulling you in close. Before you could question the sudden proximity, Nanami's lips were on yours. The kiss was chaste and gentle. Gone- before you could even process it fully.

With that, his warm hands withdrew from your face and waist. Nanami gave you a gentle smile before turning on his heel and disappearing down the street without another word. That kiss certainly sobered you up in an instant. You were left standing outside your doorway dumbfounded.

Holy shit, Gojo was right! This totally was a date.

You were early to work the next day, desperately trying to avoid your coworkers on the way in. More specifically, Nanami and Gojo.

Yesterday felt like some fever dream; days ago, you hated Gojo. Now, you weren't so sure. After the heated makeout session in the elevator, all you could think about was him. 

But Nanami kissing you so sweetly after your 'Date' yesterday only brought you more disarray. Ah, you really were in a world of trouble. 

You got a head start on the lesson plan for tomorrow as Gojo stumbled through the door. You couldn't help but gaze up at him from the sudden commotion he caused. You flinched slightly when he dropped his coffee mug atop his desk with a loud thud. 

"Mornin' princess, how was your date last night?" And just like that, he was back to normal. 

You scoffed, ignoring him entirely. But Gojo didn't seem to like your reaction, not one bit. He took long strides toward your desk, hoisting himself up and making himself comfortable. Some of your papers flew to the floor when he sat down, causing your blood to boil. 

"Aww, giving me the silent treatment, huh? I'm truly hurt, princess." Gojo quipped, messing with the pens you had resting atop your desk. 

"Shut up, you're distracting me." You huffed, going back to preparing for tomorrow's lesson. 

Gojo had a prominent pout on his face as he stood up, walking around your desk and kneeling to your level. He swiveled your rolly chair around until you were forced to face him. Gojo's strong hands were only inches away from the outside of your thighs as he kept you in place. 

"You can't ignore me forever, you know! So, tell me, princess... how was the date with your prince charming?" The smirk plastered on his face annoyed the ever-loving shit out of you. 

"It was wonderful if you really want to know. Now, can you leave me alone? Some of us actually have work to do here." You rolled your eyes, attempting to spin your chair back toward your papers- but to no avail. 

"Did he kiss you?" Gojo's voice became rigid, and you could feel the pads of his thumbs grazing your thighs ever so slightly. 

You averted your gaze from his annoyingly perfect face. Bringing your hands into your lap and balling them into fists. Focusing all of your attention on them. "...Even if he did, it's none of your business." 

Gojo's large palms twitched by the sides of your thighs. You could hear him inhale a sharp breath before he whispered, "So he did kiss you?" 

His skillful digits trailed higher up the stretch of your thighs, dragging your gaze back to his face. A frown plastered over his countenance, and you could tell his eyebrows were knitted in frustration from beyond his blindfold. 

"Yes..." You admitted, feeling hot under his touch. The more his slender digits danced along the hemline of your skirt, the more your mind wandered. 

You watched as Gojo let out a breath he was unconsciously holding before he leaned in closer, bringing his face only centimeters from yours. "Did he kiss you better than I did?" 

His question stole all the air from your lungs. You tried to close your eyes to regain your composure. The feeling of his minty breath tickling your cheek was impossibly distracting. Not to mention the intoxicating smell of his cologne invading your senses. 

His large palms spread flat against the tops of your thighs, nimble digits now caressing your legs. Gojo's hands were warm, intensifying the burning heat coursing through your veins. You took in a shaky breath before you admitted, "No..." 

You could feel his lips tug into a smile from how close his face was to yours. But you didn't dare to open your eyes. If you did, you knew the embarrassment you felt would swallow you whole. The last thing you needed to see staring back at you was Gojo's smug grin that reeked of "I always win."

"No? No... what? I'm sorry princess, but you're gonna have to spell it out for me." 

That fucker. He really wanted to hear you say that he's a good kisser- out loud?! How arrogant. You swore if it wasn't for your inquisitive desire to make out with him again until the sun came up; you would have kneed him in the dick by now. 

"You... kissing you was... amazing. There, happy now, prick?" You bit your lip in frustration, still refusing to peel your eyelids open. You were going to get him back for this. Gojo wasn't getting the last laugh this time.

His deep chuckle resounded through the empty classroom, causing you to jolt in your seat. Your eyelids fluttered open on instinct. He was close, too close, and his deft digits inching between your inner thighs from under your skirt sent a searing heat to your core. Fuck. 

"Atta girl, princess. That wasn't so hard, now was it? And it's Satoru to you, not prick... yeah?" His honey-coated voice was your breaking point. You couldn't deny your desires any longer, no matter how wrong you knew this was. 

Your hands wasted no time cupping his stupidly perfect face. It didn't take much to pull Gojo's lips to yours; considering the proximity. He gladly kissed you back with vigor, skillful tongue swiping against your bottom lip. You gasped at the sudden boldness of his action, allowing Gojo to slip his talented appendage into your mouth. 

He groaned against your lips as his hands spread your legs further apart. The spot where he knelt before you gave him easy access to slot himself between your parted thighs. Your eyes rolled back into your head the moment you felt his digits tugging at the waistband of your panties from beneath your skirt. 

You ran your fingertips along his undercut as he ravished you. You were heating up, and you were sure Gojo could feel the wet spot you made at the crotch of your panties by now. But you couldn't care less. You needed him. All of him. How annoying! Ugh, he really is a pain in the ass. 

Just as he was about to pull your panties down, the morning announcement mic check echoed through the classroom. You jerked back from the loud boom emitting through the muffled speakers, suddenly becoming all too aware of the situation. 

Were you really about to let Gojo- the perpetual headache Satoru Gojo, slide your panties down and take you right here- in the middle of your shared classroom?! God, you needed to get a grip. What happened to achieving the last laugh? This was totally not what getting the last laugh entailed. 

You pushed Gojo away from you before smoothing your skirt back in place. Still mentally scolding yourself for nearly banging your pest where anyone could have walked in and caught you. Gojo looked a bit disheveled as he stood upright. Heat coursed through you once more as you watched him adjust the uncomfortable tent in his pants. 

Did he really get that worked up from making out with you- again? Gojo must have been putting up a front with this whole 'player' act. No fuck boy would get hard from a little bit of kissing. Perhaps there was more to Gojo than he let on. I mean, you did assume he hated you all this time. But you found out rather quickly; Gojo disliking you couldn't have been further from the truth. 

Fuck, he was so confusing. But something inside you felt intrigued to know more about him. You wanted to pick his brain and find out who exactly the real "Satoru Gojo" was. 

"Ah... saved by the bell huh, princess?" Gojo quipped before striding back toward his desk. Not once did his gaze leave your path. You could feel his eyes on you, even with the blindfold obstructing your view from his crystal blue orbs.

"S-Shut it, Goj-"

"Satoru, princess. Say my name."

That's right, you almost forgot in the heat of the moment that Gojo told you to call him by his first name. For some reason that made you feel... elated. Could it be that Gojo was developing a soft spot for you?

"Shut it, S-Satoru! And no more making out in the classroom, you got that?" You averted your gaze back to your long-forgotten syllabus, cursing yourself for stammering on his name.

"So does that mean we can make out in places other than the classroom?" Gojo's voice was laced with confidence. He was trying to get under your skin- and you knew it. 

You remained silent. Hoping that if you ignored Gojo for long enough, he would drop the teasing for now. 

"Princess- look, let me start over. I like you... and I want us to stop this little hating each other gimmick." You slowly lifted your head to gaze over at him. His face read of nothing else but sincerity before he continued. "Why don't you come to my place after work? I'll make us dinner and you can crack open the fanciest wine I own. How's that sound, princess?"

You giggled a little at his last words. How did he know that you often fantasized about raiding his expensive liquor cabinet that you saw once or twice at monotonous mandatory staff gatherings?

You contemplated the idea for a moment. This could be your chance to finally better understand your endless migraine of a Superior. Plus, he would be cooking you dinner- and letting you drink his fine wine. 

Ah, fuck it.

"Alright. I'm in, Satoru. But you better be on your best behavior.

[scary-lasagna]

Hello, I hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if it was okay if to request LJ, Bloody Painter, and Hoodie (separately) with a siren reader? Reader, in her human form, is slightly stronger, durable, and faster. However, in their siren form (which happens when they get submerged underwater) they have the typical powers of a siren, but they also have limit consciousness. What I mean by that is that they are a lot more feral in this form, and doesn’t really recognize anyone in that form, but like, around their partners, they’d sort of feel familiar to them, so reader in their siren form won’t attack them or anything. Hope this makes sense!

In my AU sirens can also transform into bird-like creatures! They have power over the sea and the air :] I decided to implement that as well.

Laughing Jack

Jack, as you know, runs an old, worn-down circus.

There are no more acts of beasts, or rare animals from the human realm, but more so of a retirement place for the creatures.

He basically bought you off of the black market, watching the algae float around the the cramped tank they kept you in.

There was no way he'd be able to sleep at night, knowing he could prevent another lonely night for you.

You got a lovely spot next to Snowflake, his prized albino Tiger, which Jack thought was so funny, because of the cat and fish dynamic.

But after research and asking around after taking care of you for a month, he concluded to take you out of the water.

He enjoyed that month of bonding and feeding you, and even reading you stories whenever you seemed bored with any enrichment toys and food he gave you. He wondered if you would even remember him.

But you did, and you thanked him profusely for rescuing you, even if he had no idea how much it cost or energy it took to rehabilitate a siren-like yourself.

And Jack was always willing to learn whatever you told him, even bringing up stories from your culture about how the sea will reach toward the moon in an attempt to reach its lover that flew too high.

And it took am embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that Jack's feathers were fake, simply a silly decoration he enjoyed.

But over time, you two grew close, and now you have a rather large tank full of a small reef and a complete array of fish to keep you happy whenever you decide to dip your toes.

Helen

Oh, Helen is just head over heels for you.

He thinks you're the most beautiful muse he's ever come across, and every time you step foot in the water you two fall in love all over again.

You actually almost killed him the first time you met. Both of you thought you were alone, and quickly realized the presence of the other.

He managed to squeeze you into his painting of the sunset, but before leaving, he gathered seashells into the tide.

You almost bit his arm off, and ended up getting a face full of oil paint. It tasted lovely, as you can imagine, (it tasted like you gulped down an oil spill).

As while busy gagging and attempting to wash your mouth out, and drink the sea water, which would make even the best of sirens sea-sick, Helen took charge and dragged you out of the water to help you.

And you hit it off since, and many of his paints of you have gained quite the popularity.

Brian

Not gonna lie, he thinks you are pretty terrifying.

The first time you went to the beach, Brian expected something like Ariel, or even the mermaids from Pirates of the Caribbean.

He was not expecting your true form in the slightest.

Your jaw unhinged and ripped your cheeks clean in half to reveal not one, but multiple rows of sharp teeth.

And he's seen many things and creatures in his career as a proxy, but a siren had not been one of them. Slender had mentioned staying away from them, especially as humans, you can be lured whenever they decide to be bored of you, and then drag you to the sea floor.

Or maybe they'll grab you up in their talons leading to sculpted human legs and drop you in a vat of bubbling acid.

Whatever the case was, it seemed as if it went into one ear and out with other with Brian, because he fell in love.

But damn, in the water you were hella creepy. And of course, you thought it was a game to scare this familiar stranger shitless since he seemed so keen on staying around you.

He managed to lure you out from the water with a little jar of "siren-bait" from one of the seaside shops. It didn't work as expected, but you really just wanted to see if it contained any edible food.

But he liked pruning your wings and picking off the casing of new feathers whenever they came in, and if he wasn't feeling too tired, he would give you a small massage to your shoulders after holding up your wings for so long.

[tiramisumin]

wishes + kisses

pairing: choi hyunwoo x f!reader 𝜗𝜚 word count: 1.02k 𝜗𝜚 content: fluff, established relationship but implied f2l + mutual pining, one (1) kiss scene, that’s it afaik!!, not beta’d or proofread but  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

synopsis: in which hyunwoo thinks you forgot his birthday.

୨ৎ HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR FAVORITE MAIN VOCALIST, OUR FAVORITE YAPPER, OUR FAVORITE FOX BOY!! it’s no longer his birthday in sk but it is here in the states so it counts ok… >:(

Hyunwoo has never really cared much about his birthday. 

It was just another day of the year, really. Another trip around the sun. Sure, he was grateful that he was alive and that he was brought into this world by his parents. But honestly speaking, celebrating his birthday wasn’t a big deal for him. 

Or at least, that’s how he felt until you came into his life. 

The two of you met in middle school after being partnered up in science class. You shared similar interests so it was relatively easy to become the best of friends. As you grew older, your bond only strengthened and, well, you know what they say about guys and girls being friends. It never lasts too long before one catches feelings for the other. Thankfully, however, your feelings were mutual. 

You made birthdays fun for Hyunwoo. Throughout your friendship, you’d made it a tradition to spend the whole day at the local amusement park rather than throwing some extravagant party. If his birthday fell on a random day of the week, you’d skip school. After all, it wasn’t an excuse to skip out on tradition, now was it?

This year, though, was the first birthday you’d spend together as a couple. Hyunwoo gathered the courage to ask you out a few months ago and you’d been going strong ever since. He was most excited for this birthday, because he was hoping to do what he’d been dreaming of for years now— kissing you at the top of the ferris wheel at night. 

He doesn’t exactly remember which birthday he started wishing for it, but it’s been in the back of his mind for an embarrassingly long amount of time. He can just about picture the scene in his head; you sitting on the bench across from him in the cart, the colorful lights of the amusement park painting your pretty face, the cold December air blowing through your hair, the sparkle in your eyes as he finally leans in. 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t think that’ll happen. 

He woke up that morning anticipating his phone to be blown up with the usual ‘Happy Birthday’ messages from you and his friends. When he turned over and unlocked it, that was not the case. Not a single one of his friends texted, not even Minjae, who never seemed to forget anyone’s birthday. You had sent him something, but it wasn’t what he was expecting. 

you: good morning sleepyhead! i’m hella craving pancakes rn and was wondering if u could take me to get some :P you: pretty please??? <3 

Hyunwoo doesn’t believe his eyes. In fact, he closes them and lays back down for a couple seconds just in case he’s actually making this whole scenario up. (He’s not.)

Perhaps you really did forget. You had the tendency to have a goldfish brain at times, so he wouldn’t put it past you. Although you've celebrated his birthday together for so many years now, it didn’t really make sense that you would. You looked forward to spending the day at the amusement park more than he did. 

He sighs, but doesn’t comment on it when he replies to you, instead hoping that maybe you might remember when you see him. He’s grateful that he’ll still get to see you anyways, so it’s not that much of an issue. It just stings a little. 

hyunwoo: sure  hyunwoo: i’ll be there in 10

Though, when you see him, nothing changes. You don’t tell him anything other than, “Hi, I missed you,” with a quick kiss on the cheek. You just hop into the passenger seat of his car and await your impromptu pancake date. He does think it’s a little odd that you’re so dolled up just for a trip to IHOP, but he keeps his thoughts to himself. 

Breakfast goes well and Hyunwoo thinks that’s that. You’ll go your separate ways for the day and he’ll spend his birthday all alone. But, you have other plans. 

You tell him that you left something at a friend’s house and it would be great if he would take you to retrieve it. The address you give him sounds familiar, but he doesn’t question it, handing you his phone to punch it into his navigation system. When you’re most of the way into the drive, Hyunwoo becomes confused. And when you arrive at your destination, he can’t help the surprised look on his face. 

The amusement park entrance is within view, a ‘Happy Birthday Hyunwoo’ banner hung over the welcome sign and all your friends gathered to await your arrival. You turn to him in your seat with a radiant, warm smile. “Did you really think I’d forget my favorite day of the year?”

He laughs, shaking his head slowly. “For a second there, I kinda did. How could I ever doubt you?”

You drag him out of the car towards where everyone is, the crowd surrounding him to give him different variations of the yearly wish. The rest of the day is damn near perfect, too. He learns that you all pitched in to rent out the whole park just for your group. It was nice not having to wait in long queue lines for the rides. 

To put icing on the cake, his favorite part of the day is just as special. It was a little colder than it usually is this time of year, so you sat on Hyunwoo’s side of the ferris wheel cart, cuddled up to his arm for warmth. You look even prettier up close. 

“I had a really good time today, Y/N. Thank you.” He says, wrapping an arm around you. 

“You deserve nothing short of perfection.” You respond, leaning further into him. 

He reciprocates, brushing his nose against yours as a silent ask for permission. Rather than answering verbally, you minimize the small gap between you, connecting your lips in a soft, sweet kiss. Imaginary fireworks explode in the sky around you and the stars twinkle just a bit brighter. 

“Happy birthday, Hyunwoo.”

Staring at your slightly kiss-swollen lips and awestruck gaze has him thinking this is the best birthday ever. 

© 𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒏.

[starluvsx]

★𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Word count:1015

Proofread:yup

WARNINGS: insecure reader,kissing,kinda angst and fluff

A/N: this took embarrassingly long to finish😭

𖦹 𖦹

"Okay so the next question is 'who was your first kiss' and what's the story behind it" Nick shouted over Chris and Matt trying to explain why fairies are and aren't real to each other.Everyone in the car immediately had their own separate reaction to this question.

Nick was smiling ear to ear, most likely because of the embarrassment that came with answering the question.matts head was down with a cringed face.me and Chris both looked at each other knowingly before my cheeks flushed and he looked away.

Once everyone had their stories in their heads we looked around for who should go first. "y/n i think you should go first" chris said with a cocky smile.

5 years ago

"ok so what do you wanna watch?" chris said as he sat down next to me on the bed.a good amount of distance between us for friends so it's too bad i wanted to be more than that.i played the lack of romance off by just ignoring it,refusing to look over at his side profile while he flicked through an assortment of movies.

"no clue, what are my options?" I asked while staring at the tv.

“Uhm maze runner ‘Nah’ nightmare before Christmas ‘ehh’ hairspray ‘YES OMG YES’ ”was how the interaction went before he clicked on the movie I wanted.

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞

While watching the movie we had gradually moved closer together.not on top of each other but definitely closer than before.now I was slouched down slightly with our shoulders touching, nothing crazy i know but I’ll take what I can get.

Once we got about an hour into the movie I began to zone out.letting myself to wander in my own thoughts.watching the romance movie only made these thoughts worse. “Jesus” I muttered under my breath.

“What, what’s wrong?”he asked, looking down at me.

“It’s nothing, just movies like this always make me sad.” I replied truthfully.I knew what I was about to say but I was ok with it.he was one of the few people I didn’t mind sharing these thoughts with.

“Why?” He asked with a puzzled look on his face.just one word for him but years of insecurities,self hatred and yearn for love for me.

“Cause I know I’ll never have anything like that, nobody will ever love me like that, ya know”I answered hesitantly while still staring at the tv.I had now sat up a little from the previous position I was in.being at the same level as him made me nervous especially since the topic of conversation but I had to,my back was killing me.

“Why do you think that?”Chris said with a slight laugh,as if he couldn’t believe I thought like that.now although the thought he was shook I found myself unloveable was comforting,I knew he was only being nice.

I looked at him for a second before saying what I had been thinking my whole life. “Dude I’m like the ugliest girl at school.” I answered honestly. “I mean it’s whatever, I know everyone thinks that.”I continued with a shrug at the end of my sentence.it felt weird talking about this but also for some reason, reliving.

The look he gave me after I said that wasn’t one I could describe or replicate.he looked shocked and confused at the same time almost. “I don’t think that…”he mumbled.if I hadn’t tuned out the movie long ago I wouldn’t have even heard him to be honest

“What” was all I could say.had i misheard him?I must've, right?

"I don't think you're the ugliest girl in the school, you're...you're beautiful ''he said, making me feel like I was in a scene from a movie.although i wanted to keep up my nonchalant act of not caring about what others thought,i simply couldn't.

i was shocked he had said this.my lips were slightly parted due to me knowing i wanted to say something but not really knowing what to say.i mean how does one respond to that.his eyes flicked down to my lips before the one thing i never thought would happen, happened

Before I could realize what he was about to do, the boy in front of me who I had been crushing on for like forever grabbed my jaw and connected our lips passionately.I was shocked at first but slowly melted into the kiss I had been longing to have for most of my life.

our mouths moved in sync while both of our eyes were closed.it felt like we were the only two people on the planet.once we pulled away i took a moment to look at the boy in front of me.his disheveled hair,piercing blue eyes, pinkish lips, he was perfect.i then said words i don't think i will ever forget saying. "i-i think your beautiful too"

my face heated up as i finished the story. "You guys are too cute, it makes me wanna throw up."Nick said jokingly. Normally I would respond with something snarky but if I opened my mouth i think I would burst out laughing out of embarrassment and nervousness.chris's head was just down, most likely with the same expression as me.

"We were so corny" he said, laughing as he picked his head up.although i thought the moment was really cute,it was pretty cringe when i think back on it.

"We were like 15,"I said in my own defense.

"yea and you wouldn't even get with me till like 2 years later!" my boyfriend responded.

"ok ok next story"i started with a huge smile on my face still.

[synthetickitsune]

heyy so im the anon who requested the fluff prompt 20 and is it okay if you can write it for lee soo hyuk, i apologize for not putting the name it totally slipped my mind (i don't even know how-) thank you<3

it's alright, that happens!! i hope this is fine ♡

Lee Soohyuk | Touch starved fluff | 0.9k | gn!reader

He passes by you as you take out the groceries. You’re used to his hands lingering on your waist for a second as he does, but not to him leaning his body over yours just to kiss your cheek. And his hands still linger for that extra second even after he pulls away.

You’re used to Soohyuk keeping you company as you prepare dinner, but not to him hugging you from behind as he tells you about his latest work trip. He stands to the side as you, in turn, tell him about how you’ve been since you last saw each other, just so he could watch you and your wild gestures as you explain a messy incident that you’ve witnessed at the shop.

And you’re also used to him helping you set the table - but not to him getting in the way. He’s reaching for the same utensils as you, he’s standing right behind you and handing you the plates although they’re easily accessible to you. His hand bumps into yours when you want to move the fruit bowl out of the way. 

Only when you glare at him, half-irritated at this point, does he move out of the way. You thought he was hungry or tired too, now you’re getting suspicious about the sudden change in his behavior. Still, you’re hungry and so you’re happy he leaves you alone to work efficiently. At least for a minute or two, until you’re getting the glasses and there he is - his body warm against yours, as his hand grabs yours and your fingers intertwine on instinct. He presses a kiss to your neck, leaning against you. You’d accuse him of being mischievous if only he wasn’t shyly hiding his face in the crook of your neck. 

“I missed you,” he breathes against your skin, his other arm now around your waist, squeezing you to him. You sigh and relax into his embrace. Now it’s all beginning to make sense. Even if you’d be more open to his affection after the dinner. But you understand the situation has to be dire if he’s clingy like this.

“I missed you too,” you smile, “It’s good to have you back.”

“I’m never leaving for so long again,” he murmurs, almost too quiet to hear. You chuckle, squeezing his hand so he knows you’re not laughing at him. It’s an impossible wish, but you won’t spoil the moment. “I missed you.”

"I'm here now" you reassure, "And you're not going anywhere any time soon." He nods behind you, his lips kissing your shoulder. Still he doesn't let go of you. “Did something happen?"

He shakes his head with a sigh. “Just missed you"

There's no reason to tell you how most of his interactions for work seemed different at best and embarrassingly fake at worst compared to your warmth. His friends and colleagues might be happy to see him, they'll exchange pleasantries and half-hearted hugs as a greeting but after a month of missing you, all he could think about were your arms around him. The comfort your hugs filled him with.

It was different - naturally. Of course it was different, you are his partner, after all. But he'd never believe just how much of a difference it would be. He missed his friends occasionally, all similarly busy as him. Yet never has it been as sharp a pain as when he's separated from you. It was a constant pressure on his chest and longing at his fingertips. No amount of calls, facetimes or photos exchanged was enough to soothe the ache.

You turn your head to kiss the side of his head. He hugs you tighter, swaying with you a little. It hits you again how nice it is to have him back, warm and solid against you. He hums when you lean closer to him and squeeze his hand. This is what love should feel like, you’re sure of it. It’s so peaceful and it makes you forget everything else.

Except for your stomach that rumbles loudly.

He chuckles, stealing a quick kiss before he steps away rather reluctantly. His smile is shy when he apologizes. 

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, quickly getting the almost-forgotten glasses and setting them on the table, “I missed you too.” 

“You’re starving because of me,” he mumbles and when you look at him, there's a small pout on his lips. You keep looking at him, watching him squirm until you give into his unspoken request and kiss him again. He pulls you close for just a second before he pulls away. “Let’s eat now, hm?”

Honestly it seems he’s more embarrassed than hungry, but you’re really looking forward to finally filling your stomach. And besides, nothing beats sleepy cuddles right after a meal. You serve dinner and finally sit down, but it only takes a minute before he’s gently pulling on your chair. He avoids your eyes, and it’s honestly touching how much he wants you close, so you move your plate and scoot your chair closer to him, bumping your knee against his.

The rest of the evening goes by in a similar way, with Soohyuk always lingering closeby, pulling you close to him any chance he gets. And after all the missing him you’ve done, you can only be grateful.

[quixoticall]

The View Between Villages

Summary: Steve Harrington offers to be your ghostly tour guide after your mysterious, unexpected death.

AN: Hiiiii, if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been then, first of all thank you for thinking of me, and secondly, I have been sick with bronchitis for weeks. Tbh I never understood in Regency novels where they would make such a huge deal about someone being sick until now. That shit took me out. Anyway, in my convalescence I watch the show, School Spirits and I couldn’t help but see the similarities between Wally and Steve—both men of the 80s, hot labrador retriever jocks with a compulsive need for parental approval? So, that’s how this lil piece was born. I would love to continue writing in this universe so please, if you have any requests, send them in! In the meantime, I am hard at work on This Could Get Ugly and a lovely lil Eddie number inspired by another Noah Kahan song.

Warnings: School Spirit!AU, Major Character Death, talks about own death, brief mention of violence and death, angst, this is sad! Ghost!Steve and Ghost?Reader

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader

WC: 2K

It’s Steve Harrington who first declares you dead. Admittedly it takes you an embarrassingly long time to realize, it wasn’t like they sent out notices for these types of things either, as convenient as a note would’ve been:

To Whom it May Concern:

We regret to inform you that on February 12 of this year, you will unfortunately perish under unclear circumstances in the city of Chicago, Illinois at Northwestern University. Please make sure to get your affairs in order before the set date.

No, none of that, instead you had attended three whole lectures before noticing that no one was acknowledging you—not your professors when you raised your hand; not your classmates when you asked if they could loan you a pencil; not even your best friend when you ran into him in the hall. You thought it could’ve been a weird prank. Then the news began to spread, you were missing. Reported by your roommate after not having come home from a late-night study session at the library. And then they found traces of blood in the boiler room of the library’s basement.

Still, you thought to yourself, maybe you were having a really long terrible dream. Or maybe you were in a coma. Or doing one of those VR headset things. Or maybe you were dead and cursed to spend the rest of eternity haunting the very campus where you died.

Your friends were never the gym type, which is why you end up at the school’s pool in an effort to avoid the pain and desperation you feel every time you see their tired but still-hopeful faces.

That’s where you see him. Or, more importantly, where he sees you. You first spot him sitting at the edge of the pool, observing the ongoing swim team practice and are immediately struck.

Sure, you may be stuck in some weird reality where you may or may not be dead but you can still appreciate a hot person. Especially one as handsome as Pool Guy who’s striped swim trunks sit low on his hips and he has a smattering of dark hair trailing from his belly button almost up to the base of his neck. Thick, chestnut-colored hair swoops in his handsome face in golden-touched waves and gracefully frame a pair of honey-hued eyes. Of course you were going to stare.

You’re sure you stare for an indecent amount of time, but it wasn’t like that mattered, you remind yourself, you’re invisible to him like you are to everyone else.

Except you’re not invisible to him because Pool Guy was making eye contact and worse, he was waving, solidifying the fact that he is very aware of your presence. He can see you.

“Hi, you must be new here. I’m Steve Harrington, class of ‘86,” he introduces himself, with way too much verve once he swims over to where you’re still frozen in place.

“You can see me?” You ask, once you find your voice, “How can you see me?”

You reach out to grasp his offered hand and to your shock, your fingers don’t go straight through his, like it would with anyone else’s. Instead you’re enveloped in the warm solid grasp of his hand.

He cracks a smile at this, “because I’m dead too. Which, I totally get you’re probably wondering how someone this good-looking could’ve died so young but i will—“

“Dead?” you squeak out.

“Sorry,” he says with an awkward grimace, “I know not everyone likes that term, um, how do you identify—?“

You cut him off once again, “I didn’t know I was dead.”

It’s his turn to be confused.

“Really? Most people are really quick about putting it together. When they see their body the memories all come back. I mean even I put it together and I was never the smartest even before the accident—oh, shit. You’re the missing girl. The one from all the flyers.”

Clearly he’s referencing the myriad HAVE YOU SEEN ME? flyers with your face on them that paint the campus. Up until now, you had been categorically missing not dead, and now that someone has spoken your fate out loud, you’re certain it is all but sealed.

“Listen, I am so sorry. Let me go get someone who’s way better at this than I—“ you cut off his apologetic rambling,

“I need to leave right now.”

Before he can say anything else you’re running in the opposite direction as quickly as you can.

You don’t go back to the pool after that.

Being dead wasn’t so bad. Sure, you had spent a solid five weeks distraught over the loss of the life you had once lived and mourning everything you will never get to do. And yeah, it was a uniquely painful type of loneliness getting to see all your friends and never getting to interact with them, especially during those first few weeks when your disappearance was hot on everyone’s lips and heavy in the hearts of your friends. But outside of all that, being dead was okay. At least, you didn’t have to submit any more papers or do laundry.

After your encounter with Steve Harrington, class of ‘86, you decide to hole up in the library. You desperately convince yourself that if you search the shelves enough you’ll be able to find something in one of the many books that talk about the afterlife that might provide you some clarity about your newfound ghostly status. Surely there’d have to be something helpful. Anything. A ghost manual, perhaps or some graduate research paper about being stuck in between realms. You’d easily settle for a Chicken Soup for the Ghostly Soul.

Or you think traitorously to yourself, a tour guide to the afterlife, someone who has experience with being dead and a great set of abs. Every time you’re close to convincing yourself to go back to the pool, the embarrassment of your mortifying first encounter pulls you back. No way you were going to see him again. Just because you were dead didn’t mean you’d lost all your dignity.

Your internal back-and-forth ends up not mattering because he ends up coming to you.

You spot his well-coifed head maneuvering through the tall shelves from where you’ve holed yourself up on the fourth floor mezzanine and watch as he weaves through the unassuming crowd, completely unnoticed, just like you.

He’s wearing clothes this time, which both disappointing and surprising since you haven’t quite figured out the mechanics or social expectations of how often ghosts should be changing clothes. In a pair of snug-fitted jeans with a Northwestern Athletics sweatshirt and a pair of high top Nikes, he takes the winding steps up to your unofficial perch two at a time . If this is what he looks like some 40 years dead, you can’t imagine what he looked like when he had a pulse, it must have been like staring into the sun.

“Hi,” he offers tentatively when he approaches, like he’s sure you’ll run off spooked.

“Hi.”

“Sorry to bother you, it’s just, well, my friend Robin told me she saw you here and I wanted to come by and apologize for what happened. At the pool. I truly had no idea, sometimes I just say things without thinking, which I am working on, trust me.”

You smile, appreciative but defeated, part of you was hoping he was coming up here to tell you that there had been some sort of mistake.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault, it was just a bit of shock, is all. I guess I’m still adjusting to this whole being dead thing,” you joke weakly.

“Yeah, about that, if you ever need help adjusting or learning the ropes or anything like that, I—we are always happy to help. There’s a few of us that band together and we’d love to have you. Truly,” he claws nervously at the back of his head as he makes his offer the tip of his sneaker digging into the worn library carpet.

“Thanks,” you say, genuinely, “I really appreciate that.”

He looks at you now, finally, and his gaze is golden, warm honey and it’s like a shot to the chest. Like you’ve promised him the moon. A hand is extended towards just slightly, a twitch, and you realize he’s expecting you to take it.

“I can’t right now, though,” you say, lamely and you watch his smile waver. Quickly you add, ”I need some time, I think, before it becomes permanent. If I go with you, I’m dead. Alone up here, I’m still just missing. Does that…make sense?”

He nods, furiously, “It makes total sense. You can come find me by the pool whenever you’re ready. I will be there.”

He makes a move to leave and you register the paper in his hand for the first time. It’s a flyer with your face on it, different than all the ones before.

“Wait, what is that?” You ask, fingers skimming the plush of his sweatshirt to get his attention.

“Oh, um,” he swallows thickly, “they’re having a vigil for you tonight, I wasn’t sure if you’d seen or if you were going, but if you were going, I was going to see if you wanted some company. “

His voice is small now and the regret is etched thickly on his face.

Fingers shaking, you extend a hand out for the flyer. Steve sighs but gently places it in your trembling grasp nonetheless.

It’s true, what he said about the vigil, you had no clue. You’re not sure how long you spend staring at your own face, long enough for the words to stop making sense, but not long enough for them to stop meaning anything.

Steve stays the entire time and when you sink to the floor, tear tracks heavy on your cheeks, he sinks with you. You cry, and he stays.

“I can’t go,” you admit, and then, in the same breath, plea, “How can I go?”

Next to you, Steve lets out a shuttering sigh.

“When I died, they did something similar, my parents came down from Indy and everything. I couldn’t bring myself to go either. But shit, maybe if I did, I would’ve gotten what I needed to move on from here. Closure or whatever. Or maybe not, who knows? But I will never know and I would hate for you to never know.”

It’s still too hard to go you decide, but you can’t pretend it’s not happening. Instead, the two of you sit on the roof of the library, feet dangling over the ledge watch a river of candlelight flowing through the center of campus. You can hear, faintly, as your friends make speeches talking about how kind you were, how good, how funny and undeserving until their voices fail from holding back tears.

You cry the whole time, but you don’t regret it.

The two of you stay sitting there far past the end, Steve’s arms wrapped around you, holding the pieces of you together.

After, when you’ve had enough of it all and the last candle has gone out, you turn to Steve and say, “thank you, that did make me feel better. You were right.”

He chuckles wryly.

“I don’t hear that I’m right very often,” he admits before cracking another smile, “but I could get used to hearing it, especially from you. Now, what do you say about getting some ice cream? No offense, but that thing was a total downer.”

You laugh, genuinely, not only at his joke, but the absurdity of it all before playfully shoving his shoulder. In response, Steve pretends to lose his balance and almost fall of the ledge and you both know it’s silly but it makes you smile so it’s worth it.

Dying is probably the worst thing that has ever happened to you, but at least you are not alone.

[annabelle--cane]

Sorry if this is weird but I’m working on this book that feels like my first substantial foray into literature, and I’m really proud of it. But it’s also a lot of work and my life is…life, so I get into motivational slumps a lot.

Lately I’ve been like “But think of the random thoughtful tumblr posts (by people like you) where they realize something I was trying to say, or reveal some new way to read the text entirely!” and it gets me through the slumps.

If you published a work with a lot of hidden messages and metaphors, would you want to tell people what you meant? Would you correct people if they got it wrong?

I used to think I would tell everyone EXACTLY what things meant. It has always been frustrating to me when authors are vague as hell about their meanings behind things. But now writing this story, I kinda want to see how much people catch on to. If I write it well enough, they’ll get all the main ones. But maybe some of them will only get one or two! And there’s like a puzzle network of understanding in your audience!

I think I’d correct them if their interpretations were somehow harmful, but that would also mostly be about figuring out how those messages came out of the text so it doesn’t happen again.

saur. my answer to these questions are layered, and I'm going to answer them kind of out of order.

as an audience member, about 70% of the time I really enjoy hearing what authors have to say about their work. it can often point me to areas of consideration that I hadn't really been focusing on before, and creators usually care a lot about their text and have paid great attention to it and so their opinions are often well-informed and consider all angles. and then that other 30% of the time I hear what an author has to say about their work and it's like we're discussing completely different things, and I'm sure they meant to write their work to come off a certain way, but something appears to have gotten hideously lost in translation because that is Not what I read. and I sit there like 😬 you don't know him (this story you wrote) like I do 😬 .

as an english lit student, I could not care less what authors have to say about their work. the text is the text, the book is in my hand, and sure, I might look into what commentary an author has made, but that is ultimately superfluous to my analysis and I'll treat it with exactly the same weight as any other interpretation I come across. if I can back up my argument with evidence and criticism then no one can tell me I'm wrong, including the author. overall I don't think someone can actually be "wrong" about their interpretation of an art work as long as they have sufficient supporting evidence. if a meaning has been successfully put into the text then it's there and I will be able to find it, and if it hasn't then no amount of creator commentary will insert it post hoc.

as a creative writer, this is one of the main things that I think peer review and workshopping is really useful for. as a little story time, I took a creative writing class last year and submitted a piece for workshop that I thought was truly just an embarrassingly unsubtle fairytale-esque allegory for addiction, where the protagonist is in a toxic but thrilling relationship with a tricksy fairy named poppy who will bring them to intoxicating magical ballrooms out in the woods, but only at the cost of all their human relationships and, eventually, their own physical wellbeing. only one person in the class got the metaphor, and this told me that a) wow my experiences are not universal, and b) during revisions I should focus on making the story substantial enough on its own that readers can enjoy it even if they don't twig anything about the fairy literally being named poppy.

a lot of other people in that class got feedback on their work about interpretations they didn't intend, and depending on how wildly a reading varied from their intention they would then try and remove whatever made that reading possible in subsequent edits and emphasize what they actually meant. of course, you can't write for your hypothetical worst audience who will actively disinterpret your work as much as possible, but if you've got a workshop group or just a few friends that you think are reasonable readers then I'd recommend sharing what you've got with them and hearing what they're getting from it.

as a person in fandom, oh my god do I not want to touch anything with a ten foot pole if the author goes around correcting audience interpretation, because that makes for an absolutely insufferable fan environment. even when authors are aware of fan culture and try to phrase their gripes with their work's reception as inoffensively as possible, it can still shut down a lot of creative spirit and galvanize fandom hall monitors into taking matters into their own hands. and most authors aren't even that nice about it.

to sum up what I would do (might eventually do? depending on how my life works out?) were I to publish something for wide release, I think I would want to do fairly regular peer review to double check that what I'm writing isn't completely out of alignment with what I want it to be, and I'd probably write some of my own interpretation of my work but keep it out of the way enough that it's clearly not meant to be taken as part of the work itself, and be very clear that my relation and reaction to the text is based on my own mind and life experiences and may not line up with others', and that's fine.