#i just think it would be fun and interesting

[bvnnyface]

FYI you guys are more than welcome to use this for personal use!! I’d be honoured to have this hanging on your wall and would love to see how they look cause I’ve had a few people ask or mention interest! (Plsplsplspls dm meee or send asks w results i wanna see if anyone actually does ittttt)

I won’t sell prints atm cause I think a large portion of my audience is American and I’m Canadian so due to tarif issues and boycotts would not be shipping to America plus that sounds difficult to figure out LOL

But pls feel free to use this in texture packs or for wall decor I just ask that you dont remove my watermark or credit me somewhere but have so much fun with this silly drawing im glad it sparks joy <3 !

My masterpiece

[mystilotls]

It's been a day, and I'm still not over this, so allow me to ramble about the child.

I will die for them

I will kill for them

I have never seen a mob concept be so beloved up until now (other than the obvious "I hate fun and whimsy" crowd)

One of my favorite things is that they're adding more to old, neglected mobs.

Instead of creating a completely different creature, they're adding onto the ghast's lore, an og mob.

I think the fact that ghasts aren't born to be hostile and were implied to be taken from their homes and struggling in a hostile biome is interesting but also heartbreaking.

The fact that you would rescue, nurture, and develop a bond rather than just give it an item to tame it makes it sweet, especially with such sad lore

It giggles and purrs rather than the sad ghast sobs and hisses!

The fact that it explores and floats but also nudges against you in curiosity...I can't-

Giving the ghastling snowballs to parallel fireballs and to have an in-lore explanation of cooling the ghastling down from the nether is clever

I don't think I need to explain how adorable this is.

Mojang says it best. There are so many possibilities. Building, racing, pvp, exploring, and even just having a gentle giant friend makes it unique but not too overpowering that it replaces elytra.

Did I mention how much of a baby it is?

[stagefoureddiediaz]

So we’re getting a Chris has turned to shoplifting for attention (cry for help) arc aren’t we?!

That Helena thinks she’s being a good ‘parent’ and helping him bully giving him freedom and all these distractions like a pool etc but not actually giving him what he needs - therapy and to actually deal with his trauma and pain and she’s probably making it worse by basically placing herself as a good ‘mother’ to him - when the loss of Shannon and seeing Kim is what is central to his pain - she is disconnected from reality and what Chris needs.

So he’s maybe using chess club as a front in the same way science club was when he was sneaking to the park with his friends when he’s hanging out with these friends who aren’t actually friends - they’re a bad crowd - but they’re giving Chris attention and an actual distraction from his trauma. Which winds up with him shop lifting and getting caught - and he is in shop jail and calls Eddie for help rather than Helena or Ramon (or Eddie is there in some other capacity like he’s ended up as mall security or something!!).

Which leads to an Eddie and Chris conversation and also to Eddie asking Buck for help/advice via FaceTime - setting up coparenting buddie - which is a low key set up for Eddie’s feelings arc down the line a bit. It also leads to an Eddie and Helena conversation and a few home truths being dealt with - (eddie feeling invisible!) Eddie is then in a place to process and move through his grief and on with his life - which leads to resolution with Chris and ultimately also with Helena (because this is 911 and she is meant to be a representation of his mind so forgiving her is Eddie forgiving himself!) before a return to LA!!

[loredrinker]

Seeing Solas Through the Eyes of Cole

Currently working on a project, trying to paint a picture of Solas through the dialogue said about and to him in both games - the good and the bad. I love analyzing dialogue, so this has been a fun project, even if a bit daunting at times. The last few days I've been focusing on Cole’s lines specifically, and it’s interesting to see how much sympathy and emotional depth we get through Cole.  

When we view Solas through the lens of spirits - beings of emotion - it's understandable why many players find Solas sympathetic. Cole especially is a powerful lens for this because of the nature of this character, he doesn’t recall facts - he feels what others feel. 

Cole's dialogue after All New, Faded for Her, paints, I think, the most vivid emotional picture of Solas.  

Cole: Bright and brilliant, he wanders the ways, walking unwaking, searching for wisdom...   Solas: I do not need you to do that, Cole.   Cole: Your friend wanted you to be happy, even though she knew you wouldn't be.   Solas: (Sighs.) Could you... if you would remember her, could you do it as I would?   Cole: He comes to me as though the Fade were just another wooded path to walk without a care in search of wisdom. We share the ancient mysteries, the feelings lost, forgotten dreams, unseen for ages, now beheld in wonder. In his own way, he knew wisdom, as no man or spirit had before.   Solas: Thank you. 

As a man now and as time has gone by, Solas’ memories have become clouded by shame and regret. He can’t trust himself to remember his friend as it deserves to be remembered - without distortion. 

So he turns to Cole, a being closer to that spiritual purity, and asks him to remember his friend as he would have. 

But I love what happens instead. 

Cole responds by sharing how the spirit remembers Solas. This is rare - a spirit’s insight on how they view Solas - a memory of him, untainted by the self-loathing Solas carries. Cole knows what Solas needs even if Solas doesn’t and I believe Cole knows that part of Solas’ hurt is that he’s grieving not just his friend, but the man/spirit he was.   

“In his own way, he knew wisdom, as no man or spirit had before.”  

This was likely a spirit who had known Solas throughout his entire existence - as both spirit and man. The way it describes him is in the present tense: “He comes to me...” tells me that Solas, even as a man, continued to visit this spirit in the Fade. So the spirit sees him not as something entirely changed. Solas may have taken a different form, but his nature - curious, seeking, attuned to the Fade - remains the same.

We don't know for sure, but this spirit likely witnessed his transformation from spirit to man, his part in the destruction of the Titans, his rebellion against the Evanuris, the death of Mythal, and the long path that led to the events of Inquisition. I wonder, how many times did he turn to this spirit when he’d lost his clarity, seeking the wisdom he once embodied? Would things have gone differently if this spirit was still alive in the events leading to, and of Veilguard? Outside of Mythal, it may be the only being we meet in the games who has seen the entirety of Solas.

This spirit understood that Solas was wounded. Of course it did - it was a spirit of Wisdom. And when we consider its final words to Solas alongside Cole’s later dialogue, we gain deeper insight into the pain he carries.

“I’m happy. I’m me again. You helped me. Now you must endure”. 

Solas helped it return to it's purpose before it passed, and in return, it asks him to do the same: to endure. Not just physically, but spiritually - to live without losing himself and hold on to who he truly is beneath all the darkness and regret. 

I think part of the pain Cole feels in Solas stems from Solas losing himself. The theme of longing to be seen runs throughout Inquisition and Veilguard - in the Memories of a Duet Codex, in Solas telling the Inquisitor, “Few in this world can see me…,” and in his confession to a hurt Inquisitor, “You saw more than most.” He even states it outright: “I was Solas first.” And Solas is being buried beneath centuries of war, shame, grief, and every name hurled at him as an insult and in hatred.

To me, this dialogue offers a rare window into who Solas is beneath the darkness, strangled by years of violence and making choices against his nature. His capacity for love, his longing for connection - it isn’t a lie. It’s the part of him that can endure, despite everything. If the atonement ending is chosen, we see the full expression of that endurance.

To feel compassion for someone isn’t to excuse their actions - but there is power in understanding the emotional root of those actions. And if we choose to see Solas through Cole’s eyes (and through the eyes of the Spirit of Wisdom) – well, maybe we’ll find that he’s not that kind of wolf.  

*Note - there are theories that this dialogue is referring to Mythal, not the Spirit of Wisdom. Regardless of what you believe, this dialogue still paints the same picture of Solas. If it is Mythal, it's even more interesting as despite all their shared pain and hurt of each other, she still wants him to find happiness.

[book-lore]

Hello again friends. Library goblin here to ruin something else for you! It's apparently what I do but this one might be worth your time.

I've said it before and I continue to rail against AI because it is a blight. It's theft of other people's work. It's ruining the environment to run it. It's filling the internet with questionable and outright incorrect information based on its hallucinations. All of these things you've heard before likely and while I would argue that all these things are important, let me help you hit it home.

For one, you'll note this poor gent has made a point to include that he's still failing. There's a reason for that. ChatGPT doesn't form opinions. It has no concern for what it's doing and you'll note that a lot of what it produces isn't particularly engaging, even though it can technically create (steal) things. It's at its most interesting when it's failing to produce something. But that's also because those things are usually incoherent horse shit. It's amusing (if we ignore the amount of water waste that goes into creating it), but if you were hoping for a better grade with it, or even the ability to graduate, you're likely to be sorely disappointed. Writing is a skill and when someone works at it and gets better at it, they can produce things that make the reader more excited than just a bunch of technical sentences strung together can.

But maybe you don't care about any of that. Maybe you just want to get out of the class with something resembling a decent mark. The thing is, that class was likely once designed with the idea that it was going to give you the skill to write something later if you need to. And trust me, whether you think you will or not, you may need to. Communicating well is something people take for granted because those who do it regularly making it seem like it's easy. I've literally seen CEOs fuck this up because they didn't regard this as anything worth their time and stunningly, they ended up getting in trouble for it. Maybe you don't care about it now, but what about when you need to write a cover letter that doesn't suck? Your ability there is going to be the difference between you getting a job or not. Or maybe you want to get a little more personal.

Right now, you probably aren't thinking about something that hasn't happened yet, but are you prepared to write your wedding vows? A eulogy? These are difficult things to do and very personal pieces that you will want to be able to express yourself with. How about writing a love letter? It might be old fashioned but if you wanted to, shouldn't that be something you can do? Isn't having that skill worth trying a little bit to impress someone you like?

The point of this is that there is a lot to the world of expression that you miss out on by pretending the computer can just do it for you. It can be fun. It can be rewarding. It can be the difference between you getting a chance to interview for a job or not. And for the record, a lot of teachers can tell that the bullshit paper you turned in from ChatGPT was written by AI. If you're going to turn in something poorly written in the first place, at least if you wrote it, you can probably make something better that will garner you a better mark. Contrary to what you might think, your teachers have a sense of humour. ChatGPT does not.

Be creative. Be expressive. Be able to write your own life down. No matter how much you don't think you'll need it, it's better to be more skilled in this world than it is to be unprepared.

[jjkcherry]

pro rider | knj

you overhear your roommate bragging to his friends, and decide to put him to the test.

pairing — roommate!namjoon x reader

genre — college au

content — (slight) angst, fluff, smut

wordcount — 10.7k

warnings — virgin!namjoon, kissing, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up), multiple positions (cowgirl & missionary), slight degradation??? (reader keeps calling namjoon a virgin, he calls her a slut), but otherwise fluffy 🫶

notes — sorry this took so long 🫠 lowkey inspired by “nuts” because someone clearly gave this man the ride of his life

18+, mdni !!!

your kitchen is an absolute mess.

beer cans litter the table, half melted ice floats in cloudy glasses, and there's a bottle of whiskey being passed around like some sacred ornament. the air is thick with alcohol, laughter, and the rich aroma of something warm and buttery from your pan.

you didn't plan on being here. you just wanted a snack before getting back to your studies, but namjoon's friends have taken over the entire kitchen, their voices bouncing off the walls as they pre drink and debrief for their night out. leaving now would only draw more attention to you, so you keep your head down, hoping to remain invisible.

"sooo, namjoon," taehyung drawls, dragging out the words like he's been waiting for the right moment. "you gonna see your little lady friend tonight?"

you don't turn around, but you listen.

"who?" namjoon asks, far too casual to be convincing.

jungkook snickers. "don't play dumb. that girl from your english class you've been sneaking around with."

your grip tightens on the spatula. you flip your sandwich, watching the cheese melt at the edges, pretending this conversation isn't happening.

"ohhh," seokjin hums. "so that's why he's been dipping early."

namjoon exhales a laugh, and when he speaks again, his voice is different - looser, cockier, like he's already playing into whatever image his dumb friends have built in their heads.

"yeah, well," he says, stretching back in his chair. "we've hooked up a couple times. but it's nothing serious."

someone whistles. someone else laughs.

you glance at namjoon from the corner of your eye. his usual easy confidence is turned up a notch, like he's playing a role he's comfortable in.

interesting.

"damn," yoongi mutters, amused. "didn't think you had it in you, joon."

"nah, the real question," jimin grins, eyes gleaming with mischief, "is she any good?"

your hands still for half a second.

you shouldn't care. you shouldn't be listening. but you are.

namjoon chuckles, low and cocky. "oh, she's good alright."

the room erupts. taehyung slaps the table, jungkook nearly chokes on his drink.

"shit, that good?"

namjoon grins. "man, i swear, i had her begging for more."

someone groans. someone else swears.

you press your lips together, not in anger but in something closer to amusement. so this is how he talks when he thinks you're not listening.

noted.

"nah, you're lying," hobi accuses. "no way you're pulling girls like that."

namjoon scoffs. "swear on my life. she couldn't get enough of me."

they laugh again, and the conversation keeps moving, but now you're just... interested.

not in the girl, and not in whatever namjoon did or didn't do.

but in him.

because you've known namjoon for a while now, and this? this version of him, loud, cocky, bragging like he's that guy?

it doesn't quite match the namjoon who lingers in doorways, rambling about philosophy books he thinks you'd like. or the namjoon who lets you steal his hoodies even though you never give them back. or the namjoon who once fell asleep on your bed mid conversation, only to wake up embarrassed and apologetic, scrambling out before you could make fun of him.

you're not mad. not jealous. just... intrigued.

your sandwich is done. you turn off the stove, slide it onto a plate, and turn to leave.

and as soon as you do, namjoon is already looking straight at you.

his arm is slung over the back of his chair, drink in hand, but something in his face shifts when your eyes meet, like he suddenly remembered you were there.

you don't give him the chance to say anything. you pick up your plate and head straight for your room.

you almost make it until you hear one of them call out your name.

"hey, y/n."

it's taehyung. his voice is still playful, still teasing, but there's genuine curiosity in it, too. you pause in the doorway, exhaling slowly before glancing back.

he tilts his head, lips twitching like he's already amused by whatever you're about to say. "why aren't you coming out with us?"

you raise an eyebrow. "because you's are so painfully irritating."

the table erupts in laughter, jungkook clutching his chest in mock offense.

"shit," yoongi mutters, shaking his head. "that was brutal."

"not that brutal," jimin smirks. "she's got a point."

you don't stick around to hear the rest. you turn and walk to your room, closing the door behind you before the laughter fades completely.

the second you're alone, you set your plate down on your desk and pull your chair out, sitting down and pulling your knees into your chest. you take a bite of your sandwich, chewing slowly as the voices outside blur into the background.

you're staring at your notes, but you're not really reading them. the words swim in front of your eyes as your mind drifts back to the conversation in the kitchen.

you're not angry. you're not upset. you're just... interested.

namjoon was talking about another girl. a girl he's apparently that confident about. a girl who he claims "couldn't get enough of him." interesting.

but the thing is, you've seen namjoon in ways that don't match the version he showed to his friends. you've seen the way he stumbles over his words when you get too close. you've caught the subtle, almost shy glances he throws your way when he thinks you're not looking.

so hearing him talk so freely about this other girl - bragging, no less - it's not that it bothers you. it's more that it's... fascinating.

you lean back in your chair, biting your lip as you consider it.

so, that's how he plays it with them...

you almost want to roll your eyes at how easy it is to see through him. you've spent enough time with him to know when he's being the version of himself he thinks people want to see. maybe it's fun for him to be that confident guy in front of his friends.

you chuckle softly to yourself.

and maybe it's time you had a little fun with that.

you don't know how much time passes before there's a knock at your door.

soft. hesitant.

you already know who it is.

"hey." his voice is quieter now, careful. "you still up?"

you glance at your laptop, pretending to consider it. you could mess with him. pretend you're asleep, give him a little taste of his own medicine.

but then you sigh, playing it cool. "yeah."

a moment of silence. then, "can i come in?"

you glance at the desk, the notes you're definitely not studying, and the plate with the sandwich. you could say no.

but where's the fun in that?

"...yeah."

the door creaks open, and namjoon steps into your room. he doesn't close the door behind him, instead, he stands there, leaning against the doorframe with a casual ease that you almost hate to admit you've come to expect from him.

he looks effortless, like he always does, yet there's something about him tonight that catches your attention. he's wearing a simple white t-shirt, the kind that fits just right, nothing flashy, but it highlights his broad shoulders and the faint lines of his muscles. his jeans are worn, the edges slightly frayed, fitting him perfectly, and his grey hair is styled in a quiff, the strands messy yet purposeful, like he's just run a hand through it and didn't care to fix it. despite the casual outfit, there's a subtle edge to him tonight, a quiet confidence that fills the room the moment he steps in.

"you okay?" he asks.

you smirk, resting your chin in your hand. "why wouldn't i be?"

his jaw tightens. "you left kind of fast."

"i was studying," you point out, nodding toward your laptop. "some of us actually care about our grades."

he rolls his eyes, but there's something unreadable behind them. an uncomfortable silence settles between you two, as namjoon is clearly aware that you overheard his conversation in the kitchen. it's as if he wants to say something, but the words just don't come.

you raise an eyebrow, not giving him the satisfaction of breaking the silence first. "so... are you just here to check on me?"

his lips twitch at your response, but he stays quiet for a moment longer than usual, like he's trying to figure out if you're actually annoyed or just messing with him.

finally, he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck in that way he always does when he's unsure. "we're heading out now."

you nod. "okay."

another moment of silence. his eyes glance toward the door, like he's about to leave, but then he looks back at you, his gaze shifting just slightly, as if he's hesitating. it's only for a moment, but you catch it.

"you sure you don't want to come?" he asks, his voice a little quieter now.

you meet his gaze, letting the moment stretch. you could say something snarky, make him laugh, maybe even throw in a playful jab at his friends, but instead, you just smirk.

"nah."

he lingers in the doorway, eyes still on you, like there's something he wants to say, but he doesn't. you don't push. you just watch him as he hesitates, caught somewhere between leaving and staying.

"right, well uh," he starts, rubbing the back of his neck again in that familiar way, as if searching for the right words. "i'll see you later?"

you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow. "no," you snort, your tone casual. "i'll be asleep like a normal human being."

namjoon lets out a small chuckle, but it's awkward, not his usual carefree laugh. "oh, yeah." he pauses, shifting on his feet as though unsure of what to say next. "well, uh, i'll try not to make too much noise when i get back."

gotcha.

you suppress a grin, leaning back in your chair slightly, eyes gleaming with mischief. this is too easy.

"oh, please," you reply with a teasing edge in your voice, "don't let me interrupt you and your little lady friends' fun."

his eyes widen, the shock clear across his face, and for a second, he stands there completely silent, as though the words you just dropped are a little too much for him to process. his mouth opens like he wants to say something, but no sound comes out. instead, he just stands there, caught between saying more or pretending like you didn't just throw him off balance.

the corner of his mouth twitches, but he doesn't respond. he simply glances at you one last time, his expression unreadable now, before he slowly backs out of the room. he doesn't say a word as he closes the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the silence that remains.

you sit there for a moment, watching the door, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. there's something almost satisfying about how easily you've unsettled him. you never thought a simple line could make him hesitate like that, but it did. and now, you're left with the sound of your own breath in the room and a growing curiosity about how things are going to play out when he gets home.

after the door clicks shut, the silence in your room feels almost suffocating, a stark contrast to the lighthearted buzz that just filled the space a moment ago. you sit there, your laptop forgotten in front of you, staring at the door as if the sound of namjoon's retreating footsteps will give you some clarity.

but it doesn't. the words from downstairs keep echoing in your mind.

"she couldn't get enough of me."

"had her begging for more."

it's funny, really. namjoon may think he's the one in control, spinning tales for his friends to make himself look good, but you know better. you know him better.

he can talk a big game, but you know he's bluffing.

you lean back in your chair, a smirk slowly curling at the corners of your mouth. it's almost too easy. namjoon thinks he's the one in charge, but what if you turned the tables? what if you showed him exactly what he was missing out on?

you know what he's like - deep down, you're pretty sure he's not as smooth or confident as he tries to make everyone believe. you've felt the way his breath hitches when you're near, the slight shift in his gaze when your fingers brush against his. you've caught the little signs that scream he's just as affected by you as you are by him, but neither of you has dared to admit it.

but now, as you sit there alone in the quiet of your room, the idea starts to settle in your mind. why wait? why keep pretending like you don't want the same thing?

you're going to show him what it's really like.

the thought lingers for a moment, heavy and certain, like the beginning of something inevitable. you'll make him feel it. you'll make him see what he's been missing by pretending he's the only one with the upper hand.

you push yourself out of the chair, walking over to your bed, your mind racing with the plan. it's not just about proving something to him. it's about taking control of a situation you both know is heading somewhere. it's about time you stopped pretending like you didn't have just as much of a claim on him as he does on you.

you're not going to text him. you're not going to wait up like some girl desperate for his attention. but you are going to be here when he gets back. awake. aware. and ready.

and when he walks through that door, still riding the high of the night, still thinking he's the man?

you'll be right here. waiting.

and you'll be the one to change everything.

a few hours pass, the draining task of studying long forgotten. your laptop is open, but instead of your notes, netflix flickers on the screen, casting a soft glow across your room. some random show plays, but you're barely paying attention, the voices blending into the background as your mind drifts.

it's late. later than you thought. the clock on your bedside table reads past two in the morning, and you wonder where namjoon could be.

then, just as you're considering turning off the episode and actually going to bed, you hear it - the front door creaking open, followed by the quiet shuffle of footsteps.

he's back.

you don't move, don't to pause the show, but your senses sharpen instantly, hyper-aware of the sounds outside your door. the rustle of a jacket being shrugged off. the soft clink of keys being dropped onto the counter. the hushed sigh that tells you he's tired but not entirely drunk.

you glance at the clock again. alone?

interesting.

for a moment, you just listen, waiting for what he'll do next. sometimes, when he comes back late, he'll go straight to his room, closing the door quietly as if he doesn't want to wake you. other times, he'll linger in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water, scrolling through his phone, moving around just enough for you to know he's still awake.

but tonight, there's hesitation.

you hear him in the kitchen. the faint clatter of a glass against the counter, the soft rush of water from the tap. no heavy footsteps toward your door, no lazy knock just to see if you're still up. just namjoon, alone, moving quietly in the dim light of the apartment.

you don't know why you expected anything different.

maybe some part of you thought he'd come straight to you - lingering in your doorway again, throwing out some half hearted excuse to check on you, like he wasn't the one who fed his friends a story earlier. but he doesn't. instead, he takes his time, moving around like he's trying not to wake you, completely unaware that you're still awake, still listening

you wonder if he's thinking about earlier. if he even remembers what he said.

something about it makes you smirk.

stretching your legs out in front of you, you lean back against the pillows, keeping your eyes on the glow seeping in from underneath your door. you could go out there. catch him off guard...

you spring into action. one second, you're comfortably curled up in bed, the soft glow of your laptop screen lighting up the dark. the next, you're pushing off the blankets, swinging your legs over the side, and standing.

you tell yourself you're just getting a glass of water. nothing more. nothing calculated.

but as you pad down the hall, your steps light against the floor, you already know that's a lie.

the kitchen is dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the glow beneath the cabinets. namjoon stands by the counter, one hand gripping the edge while the other lifts a glass to his lips. he's still wearing the same white t shirt and jeans from earlier, but the shirt is slightly wrinkled now, hanging looser against his frame. his hair, once styled so neatly, has fallen slightly out of place, making him look softer.

he doesn't notice you at first. he just stands there, staring down at the counter, lost in whatever thoughts are swimming in his head.

you step forward, letting your presence be known.

his eyes shoot up immediately, and for a split second, there's something different in them, something that shifts too quickly for you to catch. then, just as fast, he blinks it away, straightening slightly.

"you're up," he murmurs, voice lower than usual, rougher.

you arch a brow, stepping past him toward the cabinet to grab a glass. "clearly."

he watches as you move, eyes following the way you reach up, the hem of your shirt lifting just slightly before you set the glass on the counter and fill it with water. you take a slow sip, letting the silence stretch.

he exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "it's late."

"so?" you counter, setting the glass down and leaning against the counter across from him.

his lips twitch, but he doesn't respond right away. instead, he studies you, his gaze slow and deliberate, as if he's trying to figure out why you're really here.

the tension between you is almost unbearable, but neither of you acknowledge it. instead, you both bask in it.

you lean against the counter, tilting your head slightly as you watch him. he doesn't say anything, just swirls the water in his glass, avoiding your gaze like he knows something's coming. like he knows you didn't just come out here for a drink.

"so," you start, keeping your voice casual, "how was your night?"

namjoon exhales, setting his glass down. "it was fine."

you hum, taking another sip of your water. "just fine?"

he glances at you then, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. "yeah. why?"

you shrug, tapping your fingers against the counter. "just wondering. i mean, you talked such a big game earlier, figured you'd be out all night keeping some poor girl begging for more."

namjoon stills.

just for a second. just a tiny, almost imperceptible hesitation before he recovers, scoffing under his breath.

"you heard that, huh?" he mutters.

you arch a brow. "hard not to, considering you were basically shouting it."

he sighs, running a hand through his already messy hair. "it was just talk."

"was it?" you press, watching him closely. "so, no desperate girl who just can't get enough of you tonight, hm? no pussy for joonie?"

he looks at you now, really looks at you, and for the first time tonight, you see it - that look of uncertainty, the realization that you're not just teasing him. you're testing him.

his jaw clenches slightly. "why do you care?"

you smirk, setting your glass down with a soft clink. "i don't."

but you both know that's not entirely true.

you pause just long enough to let the tension settle between you, watching the way his fingers tighten around the glass. then, with a slow tilt of your head, you let the words slip out, smooth and certain.

"because i know you're full of shit."

he blinks, confusion flashing in his eyes. "what?"

your lips curl into a devilish smirk. "you're a virgin."

his reaction is instant.

his eyes widen, shoulders stiffening as if you just caught him in a lie he wasn't prepared to defend. for the first time tonight, he looks genuinely speechless, his mouth opening slightly before he snaps it shut.

you almost laugh. bingo.

"what..." he starts, but his voice cracks slightly, and he clears his throat, gripping the counter like it'll steady him. "what are you talking about?"

you smirk, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter. "oh, come on," you say, tilting your head. "you really expect me to believe all that bullshit you were saying earlier? that you had some girl begging for you? you've never had a girl back here!"

his ears turn the faintest shade of pink. "i never said-"

"you swore on your life, actually," you cut in, eyes gleaming. "so either you were lying then, or you're lying now. which is it?"

he exhales sharply, looking anywhere but at you. "i don't... why does it matter?"

"it doesn't," you say easily, though the way you're watching him says otherwise. "i just think it's cute. you putting on this whole act for your friends, talking like you're some kind of sex god when really..." you trail off, letting the silence fill in the rest.

"you've never felt the warmth of a woman in your life."

his jaw clenches, his grip on the glass so tight you think it might crack.

"you don't know what you're talking about," he mutters, but there's no force behind it. just the quiet, half hearted defense of a man who knows he's been caught.

you take a slow step forward, watching as his shoulders tense, as his breath stutters just slightly. his fingers twitch against the counter, knuckles tightening around the glass like it's the only thing grounding him.

"don't i?" your voice drops lower.

he doesn't answer. doesn't move.

and that silence? that tiny, fleeting moment of hesitation?

that's all the confirmation you need.

a smirk pulls at the corner of your lips as you close the last bit of space between you, slow and confident. you reach out, taking the glass from his hand, your fingers grazing his for the briefest second before you set it down on the counter with a quiet clink.

"well, lucky for you," you murmur, tilting your head, "i happen to know a thing or two about sex."

namjoon inhales sharply, his chest rising and falling just a little too fast. his throat bobs as he swallows hard, like he's trying to force down the tension tightening around him.

you can see it - the way his mind is racing, the way he's trying to figure out if you're messing with him or if you really mean it. the way his entire body is betraying him, because no matter how hard he tries to play it cool, his breathing is heavier, his pupils blown wide, his fingers twitching at his sides like he's fighting the urge to reach for you.

you lean in, slow and teasing, bringing your mouth dangerously close to his ear. you don't touch him, but you don't have to - the warmth of your breath against his skin is enough to make him shiver.

"your little gang's gonna find out sooner or later," you whisper, teasing, "that you're just a little lying virgin boy who doesn't know what he's doing."

his jaw clenches. his breath comes out shaky.

you pause, letting the weight of your words settle, letting him feel it.

then, just as he starts to react, you add, voice dripping with amusement, "but not if i teach you."

namjoon doesn't move. doesn't breathe. just stands there, frozen in place.

your words hang in the air, thick and undeniable. you can see the effect they have on him. the way his fingers flex at his sides, like he's holding himself back, the way his jaw tightens, the muscle feathering under his skin.

he's fighting something. you can feel it.

his lips part like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. his throat bobs again, another sharp swallow, and when he finally meets your eyes, there's something in his gaze that wasn't there before.

and god, it's satisfying.

you take a step back, just enough to put a little space between you - not because you're unsure, not because you're backing down, but because you want to see what he does next.

the air between you crackles.

his hands twitch like he wants to reach for you, to pull you in and have you there and then, but he's hesitant.

instead, he exhales sharply through his nose, tilting his head slightly, his eyes scanning your face like he's trying to figure you out. like he's still processing what you just said.

"you're messing with me," he finally says, though his voice is strained. like he doesn't even believe his own words.

you shrug, a slow, lazy smile pulling at your lips. "am i?"

his breath stutters again.

you tilt your head, watching him closely. "you want me to stop?"

"no."

your smirk deepens.

"good."

and then, before he can second guess himself, before either of you can overthink it, you close the distance between you and kiss him.

and he kisses you back immediately.

the moment his lips press against yours, it's like something snaps inside him.

gone is the hesitation, the uncertainty. this time, there's no delay, no moment of frozen shock like before. he moves, responding to you with a kind of urgency that sends a thrill through you.

his hands finally find you, gripping your waist like he's afraid you'll pull away. his fingers press into your sides, firm but not rough, testing, learning.

he's inexperienced, you can tell. the kiss is a little unsteady at first, a little unsure, but the way he wants, the way he's desperate to match your pace, to keep up with you, makes up for it tenfold.

you smile against his mouth, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging just slightly. he groans, low and deep, and you swallow the sound, pressing your body closer to his.

oh.

you feel it, the way his entire body reacts to you, the way his fingers tighten their grip, the way his breath shudders.

you pull back just slightly, just enough to ghost your lips over his jaw, feeling the way he tenses beneath you. "see?" you mumble against his skin. "nothing to be scared of."

his breath is heavy when he exhales. "i told you," he says, voice rough, "i wasn't scared."

you smirk, dragging your lips down the side of his throat, feeling his pulse hammer against your mouth. "no?"

his fingers dig into your waist. "no."

"good," you whisper.

then you kiss him again, and this time, he really kisses you back.

his hands slide up your sides, tentative but eager, like he's trying to memorize the feel of you. the kiss deepens, his lips parting against yours, and you hum in approval, pressing even closer.

he groans softly at that, like he wasn't expecting how good it would feel, like he's just realizing how easy it is to lose himself in you.

you tilt your head, deepening the kiss, teasing your tongue along his bottom lip just to see what he does. the reaction is instant - a sharp inhale, his grip tightening, his fingers twitching like he wants to do more but isn't sure if he should.

adorable.

you pull back slightly, just enough to murmur, "you can touch me, joon.”

his breath hitches.

then, like something inside him finally snaps, he does.

his hands slide up, fingers skimming over your waist, your ribs, before settling at the small of your back. he pulls you flush against him, and you can feel how worked up he is, how much he's holding back.

you smirk against his mouth. so eager. so desperate to prove himself.

"you're learning fast," you tease, lips brushing against his.

"shut up," he mutters, and then, before you can respond, he kisses you hard, like he's trying to take control of the situation.

and fuck, it's good.

you can feel the shift in him, the way his confidence is building, the way he's catching on. he tugs you against him like he needs you there, like he's determined to show you that he's not as inexperienced as you think.

but you still feel it, the unpracticed edge, the slight hesitation between movements.

and god, it only makes you want to ruin him even more.

you pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers sliding down his chest, slow and deliberate.

"want me to show you more?" you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

his eyes flicker with something dark, something hungry.

"yes."

you grin, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt.

"then let me teach you."

his breath stutters, and for a second, he just looks at you - eyes dark, lips swollen, chest rising and falling a little too fast.

then, slowly, he nods.

"good boy."

the words slip out before you can stop them, but the effect is immediate.

namjoon shudders.

his fingers tighten on your waist, and his eyes go impossibly wide, like he wasn't expecting that, like he doesn't know what to do with it.

you grin. interesting.

your hand drifts down, fingers ghosting over the hardness straining against his jeans. the touch is barely there, just the lightest brush, but it's enough to make him tense. his breath stutters, his jaw clenches, and though he tries to stay composed, the faint wince gives him away.

he's so fucking hard already.

"you like that?" you murmur, tilting your head.

his throat bobs. "i..." he cuts himself off, shifting slightly like he's suddenly aware of how hard he is against you.

adorable.

"don't think," you whisper, dragging your fingers along the hem of his shirt, feeling the way his muscles tense under your touch. "just let me take care of you."

a sharp exhale. a shaky nod.

then he finally lets go.

you pull his shirt up and over his head, and he moves to help you, movements slightly rushed, slightly uncoordinated. it's almost cute, the way he's trying to keep up, trying not to seem too eager.

but you can feel it. the way his hands twitch when they touch your skin, the way his breath catches when you kiss down the column of his throat.

"you're shaking," you murmur against his jaw, lips curving into a smirk.

"shut up," he mutters, but there's no real bite to it, just that same unsteady, desperate edge.

you pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze.

"make me."

he blinks, eyes flickering to your mouth, and for a second, he just looks at you, like he's debating, like he's trying to figure out if you're serious.

then, with a sharp inhale, he does.

his hands slide up, fingers threading into your hair, and he kisses you.

hard.

gone is the hesitation. gone is the uncertainty.

this is new, rougher, needier. his confidence is building, his hands bolder, his body pressing into yours like he wants to devour you whole.

good.

you grin against his mouth, letting him take control - just for a second, just to see what he does with it.

because as much as you love teaching him, you really can't wait to break him.

you slide your hands up his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. his breathing is uneven, shaky, but he doesn't stop you, doesn't pull away when your fingers toy with the hem of his shirt.

instead, he just watches you.

his eyes are dark, lips parted like he's trying to catch his breath.

"lift your arms," you mumble.

he hesitates for half a second - just long enough for you to smirk - but then he obeys, raising his arms so you can pull his shirt over his head.

the fabric slides away, and you let it drop to the floor, barely sparing it a glance.

because fuck.

namjoon is solid. broad shoulders, toned chest, smooth skin stretched over lean muscle.

you already knew this, of course - you've lived with him long enough to catch glimpses when he walks around the apartment half-dressed - but seeing him like this, standing right in front of you, chest rising and falling, body flushed with heat?

yeah.

you reach out, tracing your fingers down the center of his chest, slow and deliberate, feeling the way his breath stutters at the contact.

"you work out?" you tease, dragging your nails lightly across his skin.

he exhales a sharp breath. "sometimes."

"mm." your fingers skim lower, trailing just above the waistband of his jeans. "good to know."

namjoon swallows hard, hands twitching at his sides like he's debating whether or not he should touch you again.

you tilt your head, watching him carefully. "you nervous?"

"no." the answer is immediate - too quick, too defensive.

you smirk. liar.

but instead of calling him out on it, you step closer, pressing your body against his, skin against skin.

his breath hitches

"don't be," you whisper, lips grazing the corner of his mouth. "i'm gonna take care of you."

a sharp inhale. a slight tremor in his fingers.

"yeah?" his voice is rough, low.

you peck his lips again. "yeah."

your hands fall back down to his crotch, palming him over his jeans. you don't rush him. you take your time, keeping your touch light, teasing, watching the way his body reacts to you.

his breathing is heavy, and when you slip your fingers into his belt loops and tug - just enough to urge him toward your room - he follows without hesitation.

the moment you step inside, the air shifts.

the teasing edge fades, replaced by something heavier, something deeper.

namjoon stands at the edge of your bed, watching you carefully, his chest rising and falling with each uneven breath.

"lie down," you murmur.

he hesitates for only a second, then obeys, lowering himself onto your mattress, propping himself up on his elbows as he watches you.

his hair is messy now, the grey strands tousled from your fingers. his lips are still swollen from your kisses, his skin flushed, his jeans unbuttoned but still clinging to his hips.

he looks wrecked, and you haven't even started yet.

you smirk, climbing onto the bed, straddling him, settling your weight against his lap.

his breath hitches, hands hovering at your sides like he wants to touch you but doesn't know if he should.

you lean down, pressing your lips to his ear.

"relax, joon," you whisper. "just let me take care of you."

his fingers twitch. his throat bobs.

then, finally his hands find your waist, gripping just tight enough to let you know that he wants this.

"good boy."

you start slow, pressing your lips to the sharp line of his jaw, letting them linger just long enough to feel the way his breath shudders.

his hands tighten on your waist, fingers digging in slightly, but he doesn't rush you.

you trail lower, down along his adam's apple, tasting the warmth of his skin, the faint salt of sweat. he tilts his head back slightly, giving you more access, and you take it, dragging your mouth along his pulse point before sucking lightly.

a sharp inhale. his fingers twitch.

you smile against his skin.

"you okay?" you murmur, lips brushing against his collarbone.

he swallows hard. "yeah."

"good." you kiss your way down, mapping a path across his chest, feeling the muscles beneath you tense and relax with every touch.

when you flick your tongue over one of his nipples - just to see what he'll do - his whole body jolts, a soft, surprised noise catching in his throat.

adorable.

"you're sensitive," you hum, kissing over the spot again.

"shut up," he mutters, but there's no real heat behind it, only embarrassment, his voice breathless.

you smirk but don't push. not yet.

instead, you keep moving, trailing lower, pressing open mouthed kisses down his torso, feeling the way his stomach tenses beneath your touch.

by the time you reach the waistband of his jeans, he's a mess. his breathing is ragged, his hands fisting the sheets, his entire body wound tight beneath you.

you pause, hovering just above the hard outline straining against his jeans, lips grazing the skin just above it.

"you still with me, joon?" you tease, looking up at him.

his eyes are wild, his pupils blown, his lips parted as he struggles to steady his breath.

"yeah," he rasps. "i'm with you."

you smirk, fingers dipping beneath his waistband.

"good," you reply. "because we're just getting started."

your fingers toy with the waistband of his jeans, just enough to tease but not enough to give him what he desperately wants.

namjoon is trying so hard to keep it together, but his body betrays him - his hips shifting ever so slightly, his hands clenching and unclenching against the sheets, his breath coming out in shallow, uneven bursts.

you grin, pressing one last kiss just above his waistband before looking up at him.

"you're being so good for me," you purr.

his throat bobs, his eyes flickering with something dark, something desperate.

"please," he breathes.

you cock your head. interesting.

"please what?"

his jaw tightens. "please," he says again, voice rough, barely above a whisper, "don't tease."

your smirk deepens.

"but you look so pretty when you're all worked up," you murmur, fingers grazing just below his navel.

he groans, head tipping back against the pillows, chest rising and falling fast.

you press a kiss to his stomach, just to watch the way his muscles flex under your lips.

"relax, joon," you whisper. "let me take care of you."

and then, finally - finally - you undo his jeans.

you take your time, dragging the moment out just to watch the way he unravels beneath you.

"lift your hips," you tell him.

he obeys without hesitation, letting you slide the denim down his thighs, then off completely. you take a second to appreciate him, broad and toned, his skin flushed with heat, his body trembling slightly under your touch.

and then you see the massive bulge clothed by his briefs.

"fuck, joon."

his breath stutters. "what?"

you smirk, dragging your nails lightly up his thighs. "you've been hiding all this from me?"

his face flushes a deeper shade of red, but before he can stammer out a response, you lean down, pressing your lips to the inside of his thigh.

his whole body jerks.

"shit..."

you hum, kissing higher, feeling the muscles under his skin tense, his hands twitching like he's not sure whether to grab you or hold himself back.

"don't hold back," you mumble, glancing up at him. "i want to hear you."

he groans, dragging a hand over his face. "you're evil.”

you grin. "and you love it."

his answer is lost in a sharp inhale when your lips finally, finally graze where he needs you most.

and after that?

he doesn't try to hold back at all.

"holy shit..."

namjoon is unraveling beneath you, his breath becoming increasingly unsteady, his fingers digging into the sheets like they're the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

you take your time, teasing him with slow, lingering touches, letting him feel everything - heat of your breath against his skin, the soft press of your lips, the way your fingers skim lightly over his thighs, never quite where he wants them.

"fuck," he groans, head tilting back, voice strained.

"patience, joon," you murmur, trailing kisses up his torso, feeling the way his muscles flex under your touch. "i'm just getting started."

his hands twitch at his sides before finally giving in, finding your hips, holding tight like he needs something to ground him.

you grin, leaning down until your lips are just above his, your breath mingling with his.

"you're doing so well for me," you whisper, feeling the way he shivers beneath you.

his eyes flutter shut, his chest rising and falling with heavy, uneven breaths.

"you have no idea what you're doing to me," he says, voice rough, almost wrecked.

you smirk, pressing a slow, deep kiss to his lips.

"oh, i think i do."

you slip back down his torso, and hook your fingers into the waistband of his calvin kleins. he lifts up his hips slightly, allowing you to pull them down gently.

your breath leaves your body at the sight of his cock as it springs free from his briefs and slaps against his abs.

it's huge.

"holy shit..." you breathe, eyes widening as you take him in. whatever idea you'd had about ruining namjoon? yeah, that was out the window.

because with that, he was going to ruin you.

"w-what?" namjoon stammers, shifting slightly beneath you, his cheeks burning a deep shade of red. "what's wrong?"

your gaze flicks up to meet his, and slowly, a smirk tugs at your lips.

"nothing, baby," you murmur. "nothing at all. i just... didn't expect this."

that doesn't seem to ease his nerves. his brows furrow. "is it... is it okay?" he asks, voice quieter now, uncertainty creeping in. "i mean... do you like it?"

you almost laugh - not at him - but at the sheer adorableness of it all.

"joon," you giggle, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. "you're fucking perfect."

his breath hitches.

you grin against his mouth. "i'm just not sure i'm gonna be able to take all of it."

namjoon swallows hard as you make your way back down his torso, your fingers delicately lacing around his cock.

"fuck." he groans at the touch, throwing his head back against your plush pillows. you smile, and bring your attention back to his dick, licking a long stripe up the side before taking his head in your mouth.

"jesus... fuck..."

you look up at him as your mouth sinks deeper onto his cock.

his head is thrown back, messy hair falling over his closed eyes, framing his flushed face. his adam's apple bobs with each gulp, his breaths coming in sharp, uneven bursts. his chest rises and falls rapidly, every inhale shaky, every exhale laced with tension.

your head continues to bob up and down on his length, and you've actually impressed yourself with how well you're doing. you've never had a dick this big, but you were loving it. you slowly came up his shaft, popping it out of your mouth to swirl your tongue around his head, lapping up the drops of precum that leaked from his tip.

"talk to me baby," you hum, licking down his dick again. "you doing okay?"

namjoon looks up at you, one arm behind his head, his messy hair sticking to the sweat forming on his forehead. his other arm reaches down to you, cupping your face and running his thumb over and back against your cheek.

"feels... so fucking good," he pants. "don't... don't want you to stop baby."

so you start again, this time sinking deeper until he hits the back of your throat, making you gag slightly. you come back up a little, and hollow your cheeks as you start bobbing up and down his cock, swirling your tongue on his tip each time you came back up.

"ungh..." namjoon groans, "holy shit y/n..."

the way he moans your name lights a fire inside you, and you can feel your pussy pulsating with each sharp breath and loud groan that falls from his mouth. you fight with every fibre of your being to not reach between your legs and alleviate your tension, instead focusing on pleasuring namjoon as best as you can.

unbeknownst to himself, namjoon begins lightly pushing your head down - matching your current rhythm - which turns you on even more. you lift your head up and let your salvia coat his head, before swirling him a few times with your fist and going down on him again. the sight of you spitting on his cock sends a chill through namjoon, and when you come into contact with him again, he lets out a loud moan.

and you can't help but moan into his cock.

the sound sends a shudder through him, his grip tightening as he applies just a little more pressure, guiding you with shaky restraint. his breathing grows faster, more erratic, and you watch in fascination as his abs tense and flex with each uneven inhale, the rise and fall of his stomach mesmerizing.

"y/n," he pants, his fingers catching your hair. "i'm gonna... gonna cum..."

you slow down, letting your hand slide up and down the parts of his cock that you can't quite reach. you focus on his head, letting your tongue race around his tip between sucks, and your free hand finds his balls, which you gently cradle, urging him to come undone.

"jesus fucking christ," he yelps at your touch, throwing his head back and choking out a string of moans. "i'm gonna fucking... do i... will i c-cum... in your... mouth?"

you look up at him doe eyed through your lashes, giving him an instinctive nod as you continue to make love to him with your mouth. and that's all it takes for his face to fall into the prettiest cum face you've ever seen.

"shit... fuck... ahhh!"

his hips buck as shoots his load down your throat, a string of moans and cuss words falling from his plump lips. you swallow him, setting your hands free and sucking at his tip for a little while longer, making sure to finish him off properly.

as the tension in his body slowly unravels, namjoon lets his fingers slip from your hair, his touch going from possessive to tender in an instant. his chest still rises and falls in deep, uneven breaths, his body lax against the bed as he tries to ground himself.

his hand finds your cheek again, his thumb tracing lightly over your heated skin, a soft contrast to the intensity of just moments ago.

"shit, y/n," he breathes, still slightly dazed, a breathless laugh slipping past his lips. "that was... that was so fucking good."

you smirk, wiping the corner of your mouth with the pad of your thumb before meeting his gaze. "well, i'm glad you think so."

his eyes flicker over your face, dark and still clouded with the remnants of pleasure, but there's something softer there now, something different.

his thumb lingers against your jaw, his touch slower, more thoughtful. "i don't think i'll ever get enough of you," he murmurs, almost like he doesn't mean to say it out loud.

your heartbeat stutters, but you keep your expression playful, tilting your head slightly into his touch. "good," you whisper, your lips curving into a devilish smile. "because i'm not done with you yet."

as you hover above his lap, namjoon's gaze flickers downward, drifting from your eyes to your chest. his tongue swipes absently across his bottom lip, like he's trying to see through the soft fabric of your grey sweater, imagining what's hidden beneath. there's something almost hungry in the way he looks at you, his fingers twitching at his sides as if he's resisting the urge to reach out and touch.

following his gaze, you glance down at yourself before laughing, the sound light and teasing. "judging by that look on your face, i'm guessing you've never seen tits in real life, huh?"

namjoon's head snaps up, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. "wh-what? of course i have...”

you tilt your head, smirking. "ones that weren't on a screen?"

his mouth opens, then closes. "shut up," he mutters, chuckling, but you can hear the nervous edge in his voice.

you grin, finding his nervousness absolutely adorable. "guess i'll have to change that, won't i?"

his throat bobs as he swallows hard.

leaning in, you let your fingers trace lightly over his collarbone, your voice dropping into something softer, sultrier. "and maybe teach you a thing or two while i'm at it... damn, joon, with all this tutoring i'm giving you, i might just have to start charging."

his breath catches, his grip on your waist tightening slightly.

"worth every penny," namjoon mumbles, almost dazed.

you laugh, shaking your head. "come on then, joon, help me out here."

you barely finish your sentence before he moves. he sits up, hands sliding eagerly to the hem of your sweater, his touch warm and sure. as he pushes the fabric upward, his lips find your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. his breath is hot, his movements uncharacteristically bold, and when he buries his face in your shoulder, a sharp exhale slips from your lips.

"damn, joonie," you giggle, feeling the confidence suddenly radiating from him. "you learn fast."

his lips curve against your skin, breath warm as he exhales a quiet chuckle. "good teacher, i guess."

his voice is low, rougher than before, and something about it sends a shiver down your spine. his hands slide higher, fingers grazing the bare skin of your waist as he slowly pushes your sweater up and over your head. you let him, watching the way his eyes darken as he takes you in.

namjoon swallows hard, his hands resting tentatively at your sides like he's still processing the moment. his gaze flickers between your face and your chest, as if he doesn't know where to look first.

"you're staring," you tease, running your fingers through his hair.

he blinks, snapping out of whatever trance he was in. "sorry, i just..." he exhales sharply, shaking his head. "you're... beautiful. so fucking perfect."

his honesty catches you off guard, heat creeping up your neck. you expected him to be shy, maybe a little hesitant, but this? this open admiration, this awe in his voice - it's almost enough to make you nervous.

but you don't let it show. instead, you smile, leaning in until your lips just barely brush against his. "then maybe you should stop staring and do something about it.”

he doesn't hesitate this time. his hands tighten on your waist, and in the next second, he's kissing you - really kissing you. it's not just soft and hesitant anymore. it's hungry. eager. full of something unspoken that's been simmering between you for far too long.

you barely have time to smirk before namjoon moves again, his hands firm on your waist as he flips you onto your back. his body presses against yours, warm and solid, and for someone who was hesitant just moments ago, he suddenly seems very sure of himself.

"someone's getting bold," you tease, running your hands up his arms, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch.

namjoon huffs out a breathless laugh, but there's something different in his eyes now - something darker, more determined. "guess i just needed the right motivation," he mumbles, his lips brushing over your jaw before trailing lower, down your neck, pressing slow, deliberate kisses that have your breath hitching.

his hands explore, fingers skimming over your ribs, tracing the dip of your waist like he's memorizing you. every touch is hesitant yet hungry, and it's almost too endearing - the way he wants to learn, to make this good for you.

"joon," you sigh, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against your skin. "you sure you're a beginner?"

he grins against your collarbone, teeth grazing just slightly. "fast learner," he murmurs, his hands sliding lower.

yeah. you can tell.

his lips trace along your collarbone, slow and deliberate, leaving a warm trail in their wake. he moves lower, his mouth grazing over your skin with a newfound confidence, as if he's memorizing every inch of you. there's a certain intent behind each kiss, like he's mirroring what you did to him earlier, determined to return the favor.

when he reaches the waistband of your shorts, he hesitates. his eyes flick up to meet yours, searching for approval.

"what are you doing?" you ask, more amused than anything.

"uh," he freezes, blinking up at you. "do you... not want me to?"

"want you to what?" you tease, biting back a smile.

he clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "i mean..." he trails off before chuckling awkwardly. "you keep saying i have to learn, right?"

you raise an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. "oh? so you're taking my lessons seriously?"

namjoon exhales a small laugh, his hands resting gently on your hips. "i mean... i'd be a fool not to."

you brush your fingers through his hair, feeling the way he leans into your touch, his eyes never leaving yours.

"good," you purr, running your thumb over his jawline. "then take my shorts off."

he swallows hard, but his eyes stay locked on yours, steady and unyielding. he presses a slow kiss just below your navel, right above the waistband of your shorts, before hooking his fingers around the fabric. his movements are careful, almost hesitant, but when he tugs them down, you lift your hips to help him.

once you're fully exposed, you catch the way his expression shifts, his confidence seemingly dwindling. the nervous furrow of his brows, the slight parting of his lips, the way his hands still for just a second too long... you bite back a laugh.

"what's wrong?" you ask, amusement lacing your voice.

"huh? oh, nothing... nothing," he stammers quickly, shaking his head. "i just... i, uh, i mean, i'm not exactly sure..."

you roll your eyes, unable to hold back your laughter. "oh my god, joon. please tell me you're joking."

"what?!" he reacts defensively, his eyes wide. you laugh again, pulling yourself up onto your elbows. "lie down." you command through sniggering laughs.

namjoon does as he's told, making himself comfortable against the pillows, his eyes taking all of you in as you straddle his lap. his tongue pushes itself against his bottom lip as his hands find your waist, gently and slowly running them up and down your curves as he examined you in awe. you smiled.

"i'm gonna guess you're clean, virgin boy..." you joke, lacing your fingers around his cock and pumping him a few times, your thumb swiping across his tip to catch his leaking precum. his eyes flutter shut again at the sensation, and he throws his head back. "yeah," he groans lowly. "i had a shower earlier."

"namjoon..."

his head shoots up again, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. "i'm joking, i'm not that stupid," he chuckles before exhaling a sharp breath through gritted teeth as you tightened your grip on him. "of course i'm clean... slut."

"slut?!" you gasp mockingly. "that's a big word."

"yeah, well," his breath becoming more ragged as you delicately stroke him. "stop calling me a virgin."

"i'm just telling it like it is," you tease, adjusting yourself above him and bringing his cock close to your heat. "but that's kinda mean, calling me a slut..."

you begin rubbing his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal. namjoon groans, his eyes fluttering shut as his chest rises and falls rapidly. "maybe it's a good thing i'm a slut, don't you think?" you tease. you try to keep your composure, enjoying the hold you currently have over namjoon, but every time his cock comes in to contact with your clit, you have to stop yourself from moaning. "only a slut would know how to treat you right, joon..." you whine, bringing the tip of his cock close to your entrance, your pussy pulsating, begging to be stuffed.

"jesus fucking christ..." he moans, swallowing hard and letting out a shaky breath. "stop it. stop fucking teasing."

"hmm, i dunno..." you smirk, running your tongue against your bottom lip as you drag him through your slick folds again. "i don't think you're gonna fit, joonie. might just have to stop..."

"no, fucking hell y/n..." he curses, his brows furrowing as his fingers tighten on your hips, digging into your flesh.

"are you gonna beg?" you ask surprised, letting his tip graze your entrance again. "how bad do you want it joonie? tell me..."

"s-so fucking bad..." he whines. "please... please baby, fuuuck..."

his neck extends even further back once you drop your hips slightly to allow his tip to slip into your entrance. "shit..." you whine, realising just how big he was. you let out a measured breath as you slowly sunk your hips down on to him, both of you letting strings of curses and whines fall from your lips.

"holy fuck..." you pant, placing your hands on his chest for support as you try to catch your breath and allow yourself to adjust to his size. whatever bravado you had is now long, long gone. "fucking hell, joon..."

you look down at him, the beads of sweat crystallising on his forehead, his plump lips parted slightly as desperately clamours to catch his breath. you smile, and lower yourself down to meet his lips, your tits grazing against his chest, giving him a peck before lightly nibbling and tugging on his bottom lip. "you okay?" you ask, kissing the spot below his ear as you lift your hips to slowly pull of him, before coming back down again. "feel good?"

"so... so fucking good." he pants, a quick smile breaking across his face, his lips finding yours again. you give in to him, kissing him with a sort of unfamiliar passion. you moaned into his mouth as you slowly slid down on his length again. "fuuuck..."

"fucking... shit... y-you okay?" namjoon asked breathlessly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"yeah," you assure him, pressing a delicate kiss on his jawline as your hips begin to find a steady rhythm on his cock. "you're just splitting me in two."

namjoon managed a chuckle through his groans as you began to pick up the pace. "i-i'm that good yeah?"

"you don't... mmmh, don't even know." you moan, sitting up properly and arching your back, brushing your hair over your shoulder so he got a better view of your tits. "you're so fucking big..."

the streetlights from outside broke in through the window, serving as the only light in the room, and namjoon stared in awe at how the light bounced off of your boobs as you your hips drew circles around his cock. you threw your head back, your moans pornographic, and your hands found his muscular thighs, steadying yourself as you began grinding against him.

your hips picked up the pace again as soon as you became accustomed to his sheer size, bouncing up and down on him at a rapid pace. you cocked your head back up to look at him, and found him in a trance, completely transfixed on the image of you riding him. his hands gripped tighter on your hips, absentmindedly pulling you down onto his cock, simply unable to get enough of you. a smile crept across your face.

"y/n, fuck..." he cursed as you clenched around him. "you're so... you're so fucking good, so fucking hot."

you smirk through your moans, "feel good joonie?" you pant, arching your body forward and placing your hands on his chest for support. he looks up at you, and without any hesitation, crashes into your lips again. one hand leaves your hips to cup your face, while the other slips onto your ass, pulling you in closer to him.

"nnghh... you're fucking unreal," he moans against your lips as you clench around him again. "feels so... so fucking good."

you smile, a breathy chuckle escaping your lips as he kisses you again. your hips become more sloppy as you grow tired, moaning and breathing heavily into his shoulder. catching on to this, namjoon grabs hold of your hips again, and in a quick, swift motion, flips you over.

laying down on your back, your breath catches in your throat at the sheer surprise of it all. you can barely speak, but manage to croak out his name as he begins thrusting into you.

namjoon is now hovering over you, his groans growing deep in his throat, looking down at where you two connect. he picks up the pace, and looks to you for confirmation. "this okay?" he asks, his dark eyes holding onto yours.

"yes, jesus fucking christ joon..." you exclaim breathlessly. "right fucking there, yeah..."

hearing that only boosts his confidence, and his thrusts become more animalistic. his head dips down, burying into your shoulder as his breaths become heavier and more rapid. he lets out a low grunt before lifting his head so that he's face to face with you. his lips meet yours again, before shifting and resting his soaked forehead against yours. "close..." he pants.

words fail you. the way he's making you feel is absolutely indescribable, and you begin to wonder if he actually was a virgin after all. you can't help but clench around him as you near your orgasm, and he throws his head back, cursing at the sensation, before bringing his forehead back down to yours.

"i'm gonna... gonna FUCK, i'm gonna cum..." he groans, his breath hot against your lips.

"cum in me," you beg, almost whining as you reach your hands up to lace your fingers through his hair. you can feel the tension in your stomach, and you know that you're close too. you cock your head up to kiss underneath his ear, making a breathy moan fall from his pretty lips. "come on baby, cum in me, you done so good, made me feel so good..."

you both climax at the exact same time, your moans and curses bouncing off of every wall in the room. namjoon pulls out of you slowly, a loud "fuck" escaping his lips before chuckling, bringing his hand to the side of your face and kissing you gently.

"fuck, y/n..." he chuckles again, his breath still uneven as he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. rolling onto his back, he pulls you close, tucking you against his side. "you're amazing."

"you're not so bad yourself," you tease, smirking as you curl into his warmth. the blanket settles around you both as his arm tightens around you, fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on your back. you listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, your own falling in sync with his. 

"sorry for calling you a virgin boy," you smirk, nuzzling into his chest and pressing a soft kiss against his skin.

"you're forgiven," he chuckles. "and i'm sorry for calling you a slut."

you laugh, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "well, i was telling the truth," you tease. "but you, my friend, are mistaken."

his brows knit together. "what do you mean?"

you smirk, exhaling a quiet laugh as you rest your head against his chest again. "i've only done that like, twice."

"what?" he nearly shrieks, pulling back slightly to look at you. "no way... you could've fooled me."

you snigger. "of course i could have, virgin boy."

"shut up," he laughs, shaking his head before letting a comfortable silence settle between you. then, after a moment, he murmurs, "thanks, y/n."

you glance up at him, curiosity flashing in your eyes. "for what?"

he shifts slightly, a small smirk creeping across his lips. "for, y'know..." he hesitates before clearing his throat. "letting me-"

"jesus christ, namjoon," you burst out laughing, lightly smacking his chest. "don't kill the mood." then, softer, you add, "but... thank you for trusting me, too."

his lips curve into a smile as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, pulling you closer. for a moment, there's only the quiet hum of the night around you, until he speaks again.

"so... is this gonna be a regular thing now?"

you giggle, tracing lazy patterns on his skin. "of course. you need to get your lessons in."

he huffs out a laugh, tightening his arms around you. "can't wait."

[captain-hawks]

suna rintarou x f!reader — 18+ only, 1.3k, piss kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, roommate!suna, perv!suna, based on this drabble

Rintarou wants to laugh at the irony of it—what’s currently staring back at him from your laptop screen.

He covers the bottom half of his face, hot breath curling against his palm as he lets out a ragged exhale of disbelief. 

The thing is, he’s found plenty of things that have left his cock twitching eagerly with interest since he adopted this fucked up habit of perusing your incriminating porn tabs of choice whenever you forget to close out your silly little incognito browser window.

It’s like a game of roulette, the way his thumb hovers over the touchpad before clicking over to the next tab to see what else could have possibly contributed to draining your vibrator battery last night.

Spitting in her mouth!!!

Anal sex (no lube just SPIT)

I choked him and he came untouched??

If Rintarou was a good roommate and friend, he would have immediately closed the browser window full of filthy porn tabs the first time he went to borrow your laptop and found them staring back at him.

hot wet messy snowballing

Edging her till she’s begging for it (three orgasms)

Or at the very least, he wouldn’t have made a goddamn habit of it.

FIRST TIME SQUIRTER HUGE MESS!!!!!

But it's been fun, all of these little discoveries. The things he’s learned about you through clicks and keystrokes. Because Rin’s seen the guys you’ve brought home before—

—and he’ll bet his own goddamn balls that none of them has ever grabbed your face and made out with you after busting a hot load of cum in your pretty mouth. 

Amateurs. 

But this—

This.

This is…

Rintarou weakly rubs his fingers over his eyes, like it’ll somehow change the one and only tab that was waiting for him on your screen today.

And in the back of his mind, idly, he wonders if you closed out all the rest and forgot to dispose of this final piece of evidence.

Or if this video alone was enough to get you off that quickly—

(And it’s dangerous, that thought.)

He slowly closes your laptop.

—-

Rintarou’s calm, mature decision to turn over a new leaf and stop fucking his fist like a pervert to the knowledge of what gets you off lasts approximately four and a half minutes.

Four and a half minutes, and he’s in his room with his boxers discarded somewhere between the bed and the door, flushed, leaking cock gripped tightly in his fist. 

Two strokes and his balls are already seizing up.

Suna Rintarou’s dick is twitching between his fingers on a hair trigger—

and you—

you—

—you have a piss kink.

His mind is already far beyond the memory of the two faceless participants in the video you’d been watching. Miles and miles past SHE PISSED ON MY DICK (huge cumshot!!). 

Rin doesn’t give a single fuck about whatever else he missed out on in the remaining five minutes of the video that he promptly closed out of. 

Because all he can think about is you.

You and those flowy sundresses you like to wear as soon as a hint of warm weather hits the forecast.

You and those lacy little white panties that you sometimes forget in the corner on the bathroom floor after showering.

You and your abysmally small bladder.

Rintarou’s mind is caught in a hazy fantasy, one that finds two of you making out in his bed. You’re wearing that yellow dress that he really likes, and the thin material slips up your thighs like butter when he grasps your waist and pulls you on top of him.

Your lips slide against his, soft moans slipping up your throat as you straddle him, his sweatpants doing absolutely nothing to obscure the sheer amount of blood that’s rushed to his cock in the time since the two of you hit the mattress. 

And then you giggle, murmuring something shyly against his lips about how wait, wait, you have to pee.

Logically, because you live together and you share a bathroom and Rin knows you, he should offer you a slightly dramatic, put-out sigh, hands resting behind his head as he waits for you to return. 

But Rin’s so goddamn hard and your cunt feels so warm grinding against him, even through your underwear. And he honestly doesn’t really care about these sheets or this mattress. 

Rintarou doesn’t give a fuck about much of anything besides the thought of how it wouldn’t just be warm, but hot if you—

“Just go.”

You laugh, gentle and amused. Like he’s joking.

Like he didn’t just ask you to piss on him.

“Rin—”

He pushes up the skirt of your dress, exposing those white panties and the obvious wet spot of arousal that’s already soaked through the material that hugs your swollen folds.

You blink down at him, breath hitching in your throat.

“Rin, I really have to—”

He brushes a finger down your slit, featherlight, not missing the full-body shiver that courses through you.

You whine.

Hooking a finger in your panties, he tugs them aside to expose your cunt.

“You have to what?” he asks calmly, pressing his thumb into the puffy, throbbing button of your clit. 

You exhale silently, eyes falling shut for a moment like it’s taking everything in your power to keep holding it in.

“I have to pee.”

Rintarou uses his free hand to push down his sweatpants and boxers, letting his cock spring free. He stares up at you.

“Prove it.”

Your eyes go a little wide, bottom lip getting caught between the trap of your teeth as your thighs tremble slightly.

“I can’t—”

Rin traces your fluttering entrance with the pad of his middle finger, and your hips stutter as you bite back a moan.

“Why not?”

He slides a finger in, and fuck, fuck, fuck you’re so wet for him.

Your pussy clenches around the digit.

“We’re in your bed. It’ll…it’ll make a mess…” 

Rin smiles, because this is just some fucked up fantasy he conjured, and he can buy a hundred goddamn beds for you to piss all over if he wants to.

“And?”

Two fingers.

“Rin I’m—”

A warm trickle slides down his knuckles. He slowly pumps in and out of your pussy.

“Do it.”

More drips out.

He pulls his fingers out of you and rests his palm flat over your bladder.

“Oh—”

Rin pushes down at the same moment that he slides his hard cock lengthwise down your wet slit.

And all at once, you release.

Hot piss floods out of you, spraying all over his cock.

And Rintarou groans, gasping at the sensation, at the feeling of it coating his cock and dripping down his balls. 

You’re still pissing when you start grinding your cunt against his dick again, desperately, frantically, whining like you’re about to—

You come hard, shaking and sobbing his name against his chest, and Rin’s already halfway to stroking his piss soaked cock to his own completion when you gasp, “Fuck me, Rin. Fuck me. Please fuck me.”

It’s obscene how wet you are, how easily he pumps his cock right into your dripping hole. Rin flips you over onto your back, fucking into your pussy with uneven, shallow strokes because it’s all he can manage before blowing his load.

And because Rin’s a filthy pervert—

“That’s all?” you weakly laugh into his shoulder as he collapses against you afterward, softening cock still nestled in your cunt.

Rin mouths at your collarbone.

“Just say it if you want it.”

You sigh.

“Rin.”

Hand drifting to the base of his cock, he rubs his fingers against the place where it meets your fucked out folds.

He lets out the slightest dribble, just enough to have you gasp with awareness.

“Rin please.”

He shifts, mouth slotting against your lips, tongue lazily sliding into your mouth as a hot flood of piss floods your cunt. 

(You’re a filthy, wet, needy mess of cum and piss when he’s finished finger fucking you over the edge of another orgasm.)

–

Rintarou wakes up to the sound of the heavy front door to the apartment closing, your shoes clicking across the laminate flooring down the entryway.

His hands are sticky with dried cum, sweatpants damp and soaked through with more than just his seed as they cling to his thighs.

He's already hard again.

"Fuck."

[ghostofagoat]

It's totally a superpower!

"You couldn't taste the difference between the old and new recipe!" I did now its inedible

"No one can hear electricity!" I can! And it's making me really angry but I don't know that it's because of that.

"Its amazing how you just don't care what people think" no I do care I just don't know what I'm doing wrong because no one will tell me and I have no friends because everyone thinks I'm wierd!

"It's amazing how kind you are to everyone especially those who make fun of you!" Wait their making fun of me? I thought that was my friend?

"Wow you are so dedicated!" Yeah I did the thing for 20 hours straight and I forgot to eat, drink, rest, or pee. Now I need to do it all at once.

"You have so much knowledge!" Thanks I know alot about a few subjects but know almost nothing about how to live independently or carry a conversation that's about litteraly anything other than my interests.

"Your so obedient!" Thanks I have no idea how to stand up for myself and will do anything someone tells me too even if it hurts me or puts me in danger

"You have such a strong sense of justice!" Thanks I will follow it unbendingly even if pretending something different would keep me out of danger.

"You are so grown up for your age!" Thanks I have no idea how to relate to my peers or start friendships the things that were encouraged when I was young will mean that I have no idea how to navigate relationships as an adult.

One issue I have with autism being called a superpower is that people will take that and use it as a reason to not accommodate us.

If you see your autism as a superpower that's awesome! I don't want you to change just because other people misuse your views.

[nonville]

⟡ ׅ non speaks! i blacked out and wrote 2k+ ... nsfw ahead. three shots for pussy enthusiast hyuck! for the anon that asked what it would be like if he came on to reader! enjoy～

office assistant!hyuck is... well. the best word to describe him is greedy. greedy for your attention, greedy for your approval, greedy for your time. he scowls behind the backs of the people who hit on you before plastering on a smile when they turn around and see him. he hates when he's talking you about work and someone butts in to ask you for a quick favor. the worst of them all has to be your boss—all saggy skin and a few weeks shy of decrepit—and he's so shameless about the way he ogles your legs when you choose to wear skirts. if looks could kill, the company would have one-fourth of its staff remaining.

you've been somewhat entertaining his... advances. particularly the instance of getting him off underneath your desk—you'd learned he loved being edged, gagged, and then overstimulated all within the better part of two hours. it's a bit thrilling. his overzealous interest in you makes you feel good. being so overtly desired by someone else. someone... younger.

you're already threading the line of an hr meeting. so you keep the public affection to a minimum and chalk it up to cuteness aggression and his already known adoration for you. even if he has to shift in his seat every ten minutes to hide his boner every time you so much as smiled at him.

it all comes to a head when your boss flirts with you grossly again. hands on your lower back, a sleazy grin oozing with ill intentions, and the most disgusting way you've ever heard a man ask anyone out. you're so shocked you can't even come up with an answer, and before you do, donghyuck finally buts in.

"sorry to interrupt." his voice startles you. when you look towards him, the smile on his face is stretched impossibly thin. "i don't understand something in one of the databases and i need my supervisor's help. if you don't mind."

your boss frowns, disgruntled, but you're already tuned out of the conversation. "it must be important if such a diligent worker is confused, then," you take the outing with stride, offering an barely apologetic smile to your boss before parting ways.

donghyuck's smile is nothing but cheshire-like when he agrees, nodding like the cat that got the cream. he prattles off a long enough excuse that makes the older man disinterested in sticking around, and you watch him watch your boss stalk off dejectedly. when he turns to face you, your smile is knowing.

his face immediately flushes. but instead of allowing you to poke fun at him, he blurts out a 'have dinner with me' before you can get a word out. it surprises you. you think it surprises him, too, with the way he gets impossibly redder.

and... it wasn't like you were doing anything after work this week. but you can't resist—"are you asking me out?"

it's teasing. lighthearted fun. nothing you haven't before in a joking manner. this time though, his expression looks a bit too serious for someone with an office crush. or whatever the two of you were doing.

"if you want it to be a date, it's a date."

—

you don't even make it to the parking lot.

he's unusually quiet as the day draws to an eventual close, watching you make your rounds and say goodbye to the people that walked by your desk. like hours earlier, his stare bores holes into your skin the more you move around and interact with the people around you. soon enough, it's just you and him on the floor.

you hum as you pack your things for the night, already thinking about the plans you'd make with the younger for this 'date'. you can finally justify buying those shoes from two week ago, maybe pair it with something classy and sleek if the two of you end up somewhere high end—

a warm hand rests on your lower back as your clearing your desk. it makes you pause, looking back to see... oh.

he's not even looking at you. his gaze is glued to the swell of your ass in your skirt, lips parted and cheeks tinged pink. both hands now move to hold your waist, sliding behind you before he lets out a shaky exhale.

"i've been good," he murmurs lowly, and your stomach takes a sharp nosedive at how deep his voice sounds. his movements become a little more frantic, his grip tightening. "right? i've been really, really good. but i can't hold back anymore. 'm sorry. i want you so bad."

his hips press against your ass and you finally feel the swell of his growing erection. your sharp hiss of surprise is answered by a whine near your ear, his chest pressed against your back as you prop your arms up against the table. "please? just wanna feel you. just this once? only once. won't ask again, i promise—"

you hush him before he accidentally alerts anyone else about your presence. the lights on the floor are dimmed, giving his flushed face a half glow. he has been good. one of your best assistants in a long while, really—why not indulge him a little?

the sound of you hiking your skirt up makes him moan lowly, desperate hands helping you tug the material up to your waist. the sight of your panties makes him choke. thighs pressed together, the outline of your pussy seen through the fabric. before you can even offer to get him ready, your chest is pressed against your desk, his cock sliding between the gap of your thighs.

"every night i fuck my fist thinking about you." the confession makes your eyes widen, your gasp making him laugh shakily. he thrusts into the shallow space and shudders at the friction your panties cause against his skin, hips beginning to rut against your ass at a growing pace. "sta-ahh-started when you smiled at m-me on my first day."

he doesn't even give you a moment to process that information, panting lowly into your ear as his hips move faster. "you were sooohh nice to me. and it made me hard. it made me s-so hard. would fuck my hand over a-and over thinking about how your pussy would feel on my cock, didya know?"

you're leaking. the slide between your legs becoming easier with a mix of precum and your arousal, donghyuck moaning in your ear everytime he feels your pussy clench through the now sheer and glossy fabric. "can feel how bad you want it, too. nobody else in the office gets to see—fuck me—gets to see this pussy but me. it's mine."

the possessiveness in his voice makes you shudder, squeezing your thighs together. his answering whimper is like a reward. you're sure you'll feel the weight of his grip for days after. his cock his heavy between your thighs, the glide slick and smooth, and when you look down—the bulbous head peeks through the gap and spurts out precum with each thrust. your clit feels like it's on fire. never before have you felt so empty.

clawing out through your own cloud of arousal, your voice is like music to his ears when you begin to whisper sweet words of praise. his hands wrestle with your shirt, popping buttons as he wrangles his way underneath to fabric to grope and squeeze your chest. his moan is louder that yours, burrowing his face into your neck.

"that's it," you hum softly, pressing your ass back on him in time with his thrust. the strangled sound against your neck makes you smile. "feels good, right?"

his drawn out whine of yes is cut in half by a hiccup, sniffling back—is he crying? desire hits your stomach like a shot, clenching yet again. he lets out a garbled moan, hips stuttering. "good—so good, don't wanna stop, wanna stay here f-forever! fuck, please, please—"

it takes a moment before you realize he's begging for permission, inhaling sharply before matching his pace once again. "go on and cum, baby. you deserve it. you've been so good."

you learn he bites when he cums. not hard enough to hurt, but you still hiss when you feel teeth against your shoulder as cum soaks your panties. a hoarse moan is muffled against your skin as his hips jerk. there's so much of it. his cock twitches madly between your legs. cum seeps into your panties and runs down your thighs, the mess just narrowly avoiding your desk.

he nuzzles into your neck, mumbling incoherent words against your skin as his hands slide from your chest all the way down to your underwear. the rough pad of his fingers against your wet skin makes you jolt—unable to stop yourself from bucking into his palm as he rubs his fingers against your entrance. every part of your body feels charged.

"you didn't get to cum?" he pouts when you shake your head, lips then parting around a moan when his fingers begin to toy with your clit. tight circles that nearly make your knees buckle from the sudden onslaught of pleasure. you can already feel him getting hard again. "can i—wanna taste.."

you blink and you're splayed out on to your desk, skirt hiked up even further. desire makes your ears sing as your beloved assistant stares down at your spread legs like it'll be his last meal. his hands fumble with your ruined panties, brows furrowing as the offending material refusing to let go of your soaked mound, tugging and tugging and tugging until—riiip!

you gape at him as the sound of fabric being torn to shreds fills the air. but you don't even have time to process even the cold air that makes your shiver for less than a second, his mouth settling on your clit and sucking like a man starved. you're thighs clamp around his thighs as you shudder, his hands fumbling to squeeze around his girth as his cock twitches a mile from the taste and sight of you. his eyes roll back as you use him, stiffening the wet muscle as you drag your pussy over his mouth.

each time your clit catches on his nose, pleasure zips up your spine like an electric current. it's maddening how good it feels. he switches back and forth between fucking his tongue inside of you and sucking your clit between pink lips, humming everytime you cry out in pleasure.

your voice slurs when you speak. "feels guh-good, baby, you're so good—" his eyes flutter open at the praise, darkened eyes meeting your from between your thighs. "mnngh—gonna m-make me—cum!"

how was it that the boy between your legs was the first time you've succumbed to pleasure so maddeningly quick? he ate pussy like it was his god-given purpose on the earth to do so, moaning and watching your expressions to drive you over the edge with a startling quickness. you don't ever think you've wanted to cum so badly before. it's exhilarating. it's fucking enlightening. it's-it's—

your hips stutter as your orgasm crashes into your without warning, all the air wooshing out of your lungs as your body locks up and bows off the table. you think you even see heaven for a split second—spots of white clouding your vision before your legs lock around his head again you cum. hard.

the momentary air loss to his head makes his own hips stutter, squeezing around his base as he licks and sucks at your pussy to get allll the sweet juice you offer. his head is cloudy, like he's floating above his own body, his anchor the sound of your sobs as your thread your hand through sweat tousled hair and tug. his vision whites out as well, coming back to thick white ropes of cum splattered against the tiled floor.

panting is the only thing heard for a while. you look down to see him nuzzling into your inner thigh, eyes fluttered shut as he catches his breath. the sight tugs at your heartstrings, moving to sit up on shaking arms. he lets out a soft sound of confusion when you motion for him to stand up, his cock half spent and leaking on your tight when he moves to stand between your legs.

the kiss your share is hilariously innocent compared to the double orgasm the two of you had just shared. he flushes bright red when you pull away, chasing your mouth for another. you oblige, and you kiss until you can feel the exhaustion seeping into your bones. still, ever insatiable after finally getting a taste of what he'd been longing for months over, you feel his cock twitch and get harder the more you kiss him. when you part again for the second time, his pupils are dilated, his expression dazed.

"wanna go again." he blurts out the confession with jumbled speech, hands pawing at your thighs again. "know i said just once b-but you tastesogood, 'n i just wanna—just wanna, mmmnn, i wanna taste—"

he's so greedy. but after he sucks another orgasm from the sopping mess between your thighs, moaning a promise to really take you to dinner around time between your fold, something akin to fondness builds a nest next to your growing desire for him.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Paraphrasing a conversation I had on another site:

Them: Wait, you think gay jokes are funny? Me: Yeah? A lot are. Them: But...they're making fun of your identity. Me: Being gay isn't my identity. It's just my sexuality.

I think if I could get gays to realize anything, it would be this. Your sexuality is just your sexuality. It's not your "identity". It's not your lifestyle, or your personality, or even interesting, to be honest. It's just an attraction preference. That's it. Everyone has them. You're not special just because you're attracted to something other people aren't.

Who or what you're attracted to is one of the least interesting and least important things about you.

What are your dreams? What do you believe in? What do you fight for? What makes you happy? What are you working towards? How do you treat others? How do you treat yourself? What are your hobbies? These are the things that are important. These are the things that make up large parts of the whole you. The real you. The you that's worth knowing, or befriending, or maybe even falling in love with. Not who or what you're superficially attracted to. And when you make that your whole personality, or claim it's your identity, that's all you're presenting to the world. A superficial, shallow person. Someone who's barely even real.

Is that really who you guys want to be? Is that really all you have to show? The least important part of you? The shallowest view of who you are? When you look in the mirror or lay awake at night thinking and daydreaming is your sexuality all you see? All you think about? Because if it's not, then you're doing yourself a massive disservice by pretending it is.

Just something to think about.

[senku-ishigami-official]

Thanks for tagging me, this is pretty interesting. Art and science ten billion percent go hand in hand. You can't have one without the other. There are multiple ways to take this.

Think about the colorful paintings you see in museums. Obviously, there's a scientific explanation for the colors. The color and light spectrums were studied by Isaac Newton himself in his famous prism experiment. This is just one example of science within art. As for art within science, let's take our craftspeople Yuzuriha and Kaseki, for example (some people would argue that art and craft are not the same, but that's a dispute for another time. I'm saying they are). Their art form helped us with scientific innovation that would be unimaginable without that skill. The hot air balloon wouldn't have been possible without Yuzuriha's crazy talent.

Let's expand on the similarities between the scientific and artistic processes.

1. They're both hands-on as hell. Science and art are both means of creation and expression. You have to tinker and toy with the materials you have to make something that fulfills the innate human desire to create. You have to use your hands and your brain -- those are the two primary essentials for both art and science.

2. They both go through our beloved trial-and-error system. We know the whole process for science already: find a problem, try to solve it, fail, try again. It's the same for art. Look at the development of art in Europe specifically. Here are some pieces from the medieval, renaissance and modern movements, in that order.

The styles are wildly different because these pieces are products of what the artists learned from artists before them and their own creative spirit/what they figured out themselves through countless trials. It's the same with science. Knowledge builds upon itself.

3. They both make our world ten billion times better, and in practical ways, too. Science helps us learn more about the world so we can use our resources wisely and not have to live like cavemen (who, by the way, also made art, in case you weren't aware). Art helps us with understanding of culture, an equally important aspect to humanity, which also has its scientific origins. And, like user wilwheaton demonstrated for us, each scientific and artistic discovery inspires more discovery. They're the reason for humanity's exponential growth in so many areas.

4. They're both fun! The possibilities are endless. Art and science can both be anything you want it to be if you put your mind to what you're creating. Like I said earlier, it's about expression and creation. It's supposed to be fun, a testament to the real complex and unique nature of humanity.

Every scientist is an artist and every artist is a scientist, even if they don't realize it. They're two sides of the same coin. I'm not big on symbolism but I'm sure there's a metaphor somewhere for how science is art or something more abstract. You can figure that one out.

“the arts and sciences are completely separate fields that should be pitted against each other” the overlap of the arts and sciences make up our entire perceivable reality they r fucking on the couch

[witherby]

chef who do you think would be the most to least willing to be the subject of mousey's makeovers? imagine like young mousey just learnt makeup and is now trying to practice the skills of makeup on someone

-🕯

Oh, fun question! Makeup is genderless, so to me that doesn't play a factor in willingness here! None of these characters' egos are going to be bruised by eyeliner.

Who's okay to endure a makeover?

Most Willing:

Bruce: he's regularly and routinely wearing a full face and airbrushing any exposed skin so that the general public doesn't see a Brucie full of battle scars. He's so used to this that he can coach you through the best application practices without looking. Beats having to do it himself.

Jason: got into makeup to cover up the J carved into his cheek. He's fine to let you doll him up a bit. Will even request certain colors for his eyes and lips.

Alfred: massive theatre nerd and former professional actor! He wore stage makeup for shows, and that stuff is thick. Of course Flittermouse can dab some blush on his cheeks and give him a smokey eye. He slays and serves every day.

Barry: why not? Uncle Bare is down for whatever, and he thinks it's really cool what sorts of designs you can put on your face. Go nuts!

Dick: He was going to ask to do your make-up first. He's so pretty he doesn't need it, but that doesn't matter. He wants to blind people with the amount of highlighter he slaps on. He needs the brightest, boldest, glitteriest look you can offer him. He graduated Top of his Cunt at the Unislaysity of Mother. Werk, bitch.

Dinah: thinks the act of doing your makeup is very soothing! She'd love to do some fun looks with you!

Indifferent to Make-up:

J'onn: could take it or leave it. Just put it on his human disguise, not his actual skin, and he'll let you do whatever you want.

Oliver: it's fine. He's also famous and wants to look nice for the cameras so he knows the song and dance with products. Just don't get it in his sorry excuse for a beard (Bruce's words) and you can do whatever you want.

Victor: It's not his favorite activity on the planet. If you're not careful, you could get product in his machine parts and that'll be a bitch to clean, but he trusts you and doesn't care if you wanna give him a matte lip and contour.

Diana: will oblige if you insist. Her skin is flawless so she's never had a need for it, but she is pretty tolerant to anything and will put up with a mascara wand in the eye if it means spending some time with you.

Tim: same as Diana. He's got a good skincare routine going on to give himself a nice, natural glow, but if you insist upon winged eyeliner and a bold, dramatic lip, he'll tell you what colors he prefers.

Unwilling to get a Makeover:

Arthur: won't go near it, even if you're toting brands that are vegan and cruelty free. Besides, there's no such thing as waterproof makeup. Water resistant, certainly, but he can't go rule Atlantis with a full beat and still come out of the water looking fresh twelve hours later. That shit's coming off.

Hal: Yeah no, it's a sensory nightmare and he's a chronic face-toucher. It's a shame because he would love to try it out and all the colors look super fun, but it will either end up smudged all over his face and hands in 30 minutes, or he'll need to tap out because it's so cold and goopy.

Clark: I think he just wouldn't like it! With his super senses it would probably feel like a big mess on his face, and he seems to be a pretty clean, meticulous person. Plus I like to think he doesn't have any pores on account of my "Kryptonians are actually lil freaks that make humans uncomfortable" headcanons, so it's not gonna lay right. If you get too close to his face he swerves into Uncanny Valley really fast, and Fenty Beauty foundation won't help with that.

Damian: not interested for the same reasons as Arthur. Big makeup companies are always doing animal testing, even if they don't explicitly advertise it. That's horrific! Get that setting powder away from him posthaste!

[i-hope-this-is-a-phase]

Honestly? I think this will be the first video that will break containment.

Don't misunderstand, I absolutely loved the first two videos, but there was a quality that made it interesting for me as a fan, me as a gamer, me as an inventor, but not necessarily for the general public.

But this video had such good moments that even regular viewers will think are cool: the double horse clutch, the ghast gun, the failed dragon glitch. It also had delightfully fun moments, like when George nearly killed himself, the running gag that George isn't Dream, Sapnap just disappearing for half the video.

I always knew this technology would change the world, but now I'm confident the world will realize it too.

[cinnabar-circus]

2023 | 99

[theinstagrahame]

I genuinely cannot get behind the idea that the special moves were unnecessary. That's an opinion that feels prudish to the point of being functionally conservative.

But I think they do a great job of tempting players to make good mechanical decisions that could be bad personal ones. And I think it forces game groups to have a conversation about how to handle the moves. And there's interesting variation between each of them. Plus, the intimacy lets you make characters that aren't just a D&D party, there because the players don't have a choice.

I played 90% of a campaign as a Child Thing character, who had a unique Special that didn't involve sex, may have been the only person who used it. It was great fun! 10/10 would Special again.

And, as OP said, Monsterhearts is amazing! And their moves are explicitly about sex.

I keep making this post but I am kind of saddened by the fact that the PbtA framework ended up overshadowing the game it came from, Apocalypse World, itself, because Apocalypse World is still pretty unique in terms of what it does, and most PbtA games ended up being pretty straightforward adventure games albeit with a different system

And there's nothing wrong with adventure games. D&D and Rolemaster are among my favorites for a reason. But there are already so many adventure games. People just making more adventure games using Apocalypse World's system feels like missing the forest for the trees. Plus I genuinely don't think the PbtA framework adds a lot to adventure games that more "trad" systems haven't already achieved.

Anyway play Apocalypse World with me will you play Apocalypse World with me when will you play Apocalypse World with me

[spicycinnabun]

can i ask for werewolf au 🐺🐺🐺 please in "make me write"

“Don’t go down there.”

Tommy’s voice didn’t startle Buck—perks of the super wolfy hearing—but he did take his hand off the doorknob with a guilty smile.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just curious.”

He was feeling well enough now to get up and move around, and though he hated leaving Tommy’s bed, his wolf had been tugging restlessly on the leash, urging him to explore more of the den.

Tommy chuckled. “Yeah, I’m gathering that. Kinda surprised you’re a werewolf and not a werecat.”

“I’m not nearly graceful enough to be a werecat. You, uh, hiding some dead bodies or something?” Buck joked. He glanced at the door again. 

Knowing he wasn’t allowed to go into the basement now made it so much more tempting. Like looking at a big red button that said do not touch! 

“No. It’s just a mess. I’m renovating.”

That was a perfectly normal, acceptable answer, yet Buck couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t the truth.

“Hmm, don't know if I believe you,” he said playfully. “Maybe you're actually a mad scientist, and your secret lab is down there?” He tugged on the drawstring of his borrowed sweats. “Or maybe you’re hiding a crazy sex dungeon.” 

“You caught me,” Tommy responded, dry as sand. “It’s my sex dungeon. So unless you want to get tied up and spanked, you’ll stay out.”

Oh.

Oh, boy. 

Those were some interesting images going through his head. 

“Um,” Buck said eloquently, blood rushing to his cheeks.

Tommy took pity on him. “I’m kidding, Evan.” 

Buck laughed. It sounded weird. Where was his sanity? It certainly wasn’t in the room anymore.

And he still wanted to open that door. But, like a good boy, he didn’t push. Instead, he hastily altered course. “You’re a pilot, right? At the harbor station? I saw your pictures on the mantelpiece.” 

The connection had excited Buck. And maybe he had drooled a little seeing the Alpha standing next to a chopper, wearing a flight suit and sporting a big grin. He looked so happy. Right in his element. Just like Buck felt at his job.

Tommy’s smile grew, crinkles appearing. It transformed his face, just like in the photos. Buck’s heart literally pitter-pattered. (God, he needed to get a grip.) “Yeah. I was with a different station before I transferred to air ops. Best decision I’ve ever made.”

“Nice.” Buck stopped himself from adding how cool he thought it was. He had repeated that word far too many times since he’d met Tommy. “Must be fun to fly. Which station were you at before?”

“The one-eighteen.”

Buck’s eyes widened. “No way! That’s my station! I—I’m a firefighter, too.”

That meant Buck wasn’t the first werewolf to work there. He wondered if Bobby knew about Tommy’s lycanthropy, and that was why he’d taken Buck’s so stoically. It was such a crazy coincidence. If their timelines had synced up, they could’ve worked together.

“Yeah?” Tommy folded his arms, appraising him. “That makes a lot of sense. You seem like the type.”

Buck’s chest puffed up with pride, his blush reigniting. Was it his physique? His demeanor? Did Tommy think he looked like a hero? “Thanks!” He quickly changed the subject, not wanting to linger on himself. “So, you know Hen and Chim?”

Tommy nodded. “I did. They’re great people.”

Buck was about to ask another question when he noticed Tommy subtly glancing at his watch. He stepped backward. “Sorry. I-I’m talking your ear off again.”

Tommy’s eyebrows raised. “You apologize too much, Evan. You’re fine. I do have to go pick up a package in a few minutes, though. Want to come for a ride?”

Those words triggered the same internal reaction as wanna go for a walk? Buck grinned. Some fresh air would probably feel awesome and stop him from making a bigger fool of himself. “Okay! Uh, do—do you mind if I shift?” 

His wolf loved truck rides, which Eddie never failed to tease him about. He could easily be mistaken for a dog if he kept himself somewhat hidden. 

Tommy looked amused. “I don’t mind. I’ll have to re-wrap your dressing, though.” 

Have Tommy’s hands on him again? Buck had no problem with that at all.

“I’ll be right back.” He dashed for the bathroom, pleased when he only limped a little bit.

“Hey, take it slow!” Tommy called after him. 

Sheepishly, Buck followed the Alpha’s command.

⏾

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