#i like making sj suffer just a little bit

[k0mmari]

Sword Spirit AU - Xiu Ya (pt.1)

Hello hello! This is going to be a very very casual AU with the first half being dedicated to Xiu Ya(jiuyuan) and the other Xin Mo(bingyuan), so sit tight, relax, and maybe put on some Soul Eater in the background, because this is basically it.

This post is going to be VERY LONG, so sorry in advance ^^;;

It's finally time for Shen Jiu to go to Wan Jian Peak and get his spiritual sword, one of the final steps for his Shizun to finally, oficially, name him Head Disciple, even if the rest of Qing Jing will most likely fight Shizun in her decision.

It would be no surprise, ever since SJ stepped foot there, rumors have been spreading about him, usually about how he only got in so late due to Yue Qi's influence, or how he paid his way in as a young master (as if the rest of the disciples hadn't done exactly that) and thinks he's better than everyone, or how he never fights fair and uses underhanded methods during spars. All rumors don't hold a drop of truth in them of course, but SJ has better things to do than trying to clean his image to a bunch of spoiled brats.

It's not like any of them would believe him, anyways.

In all honesty, he'd rather not be Head Disciple at all, but this is the best way at getting to a secure enough spot that he won't have to worry as much about his safety, even if he will be forced to look after a bunch of children he couldn't care less about. Anyways, SJ's only hope now for something to go marginally right his way is for him to get a good sword.

He gets to the sword wall and, as luck would have it, he feels a pull, calling him to a beautiful sword: elegant, refined and everything SJ desperately hopes he can be.

SJ carefully pulls the sword out of the wall and immediatelly he can feel a connection forming, his slugish qi rushing into the blade and in exchange, a flash of bright, almost refreshing qi runs through him. For a moment his muscles relax as he feels the sword gently humming in his hand.

He walks away from the wall, a few of the other disciples that also had come to retrieve their spiritual sword already holding their own blades, but the only person that SJ cares to show his own sword stands a bit further away. His ever aloof Shizun and... Yue Qi, who was not invited, but decided to come anyways. Great.

YQ wastes no time in praising his sword and how it's a perfect fit for 'Xiao-Jiu' (which only earns him a nasty side-eye), but SJ controls his urge to bite the other boy and focuses on his Shizun. She merely send the sword a glance, unimpressed, and instead says "Disciple Shen has now a spiritual blade of his own. He will get to know his blade, which will aid him with his... cultivation problems, but also raise his cultivation to new heights."

SJ grinds his teeth, not wanting to be reminded about his shitty cultivation, but thankfully, Shizun doesn't dwell on the topic. "When Disciple Shen fully becomes one with his sword, the blade will reward him and show it's true self. It is only then that Disciple Shen will become a truly honorable cultivator."

True... Self? With a subtle glance, SJ confirms even YQ looks a bit surprised, apparently also never haven heard about a swords 'true self', but Shizun doesn't ellaborate any further on it, instead moving on as if she hadn't said anything special, and turning to head back to Qing Jing, uncaring if any other disciples weren't done getting their swords yet.

She unsheathes her own spiritual sword, intending on letting her disciples walk all the way back, but before setting off, she turns towards SJ. "Disciple Shen, the name of your sword."

SJ huffs but brings his sword closer, and reads the engraving on the base of the blade. "...Xiu Ya."

Just as SJ finishes reading the name out loud, the sword starts violently vibrating, catching SJ and his Shizun off guard, and it flings itself off of SJ's hands, flying a short distance before it stabbed the ground.

SJ's hands are left hanging in the air where he once held the sword, frozen stiff in his shock. It certainly doesn't help that is Shizun, who is never phased and now looks visibly shocked, mutters to herself: "I... didn't know a sword could do that."

.........Great.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

A week after the whole... situation on Wan Jian, SJ is now convinced his spiritual sword hates him.

It just... doesn't do anything he wants it to do! If his Shizun orders him to spar with another disciple with it, Xiu Ya could randomly just fling itself out of his hand, or physically pull him in another direction when he is speaking with another disciple, and no matter how Shizun instructs him to send his qi to the blade, to 'connect' with it, Xiu Ya refuses to cooperate, one day even straight up denying his qi.

Unbeknownst to SJ, his sword is no longer a regular spiritual blade, and actually a host for a recently deceased Shen Yuan, who woke up from his sleep to his new owner pulling him out of the wall and promptly panicked when he heard his name be declared Xiu Ya, which could only mean his new owner was none other than the scum villain himself, SQQ.

It was then and there that SY decided it would be now his life's mission to stop any evil wrongdoings a teenage SQQ must get up to. (It translated to him flinging himself out of SJ's hand any time he felt himself getting too close to another disciple's skin, or vibrating angrily when SJ started to insult someone.)

SJ takes Xiu Ya to his Shizun, and even to Wan Jian's Peak Lord, to check if there's something wrong with his sword, or if he had done soemthing wrong, but both reassure him that the sword is fine, and it must be testing him, urging him to 'clear his heart' to better connect with it.

SJ, feeling like his chance at being Head Disciple is slipping through his fingers the longer he can't get a hold of his own sword, it's supposed to obey him, tends more often than not to... argue with it. It, of course, only creates more rumours about him and his 'cursed sword', but he doesn't have time for this, and he won't let a piece of metal ruin his chances at rising up the ranks.

Everything starts to change one fateful day where everything just seems to go wrong all at once for SJ: His Shizun goes away in a three-day long mission, which leaves him the responsability to look after the peak, and none of the other disciples are willing to make it easy for him, constantly getting in his way, purposefully waisting his time and straight up insulting him to his face.

Yue Qi even tries to grace SJ with his presence, but it takes him no longer than 5 minutes before he manages to say the wrong thing, and it takes even less for it to snowball into SJ expelling him from the peak unless the whole Sect is set on fire. It gets so bad even SY, usually happy to mostly daydream where he sits sheathed at SJ's waist, takes note of it, and gets a bit concerned for the boy.

SY already notices SJ's spiritual veins where all sorts of messed up, but it only becomes relevant when he notices his qi heading straight towards a qi deviation, and no matter how SY tries to vibrate and wiggle, it only seems to upset SJ even further and by the end of the day, as SY suspected, SJ hides away at the bamboo house and falls to the floor, gasping through a qi deviation.

He'd usually just tough his qi deviations out, or pass them at the Warm Red Pavillion, but now he isn't even afforded the mercy of being to suffer alone, as some disciple might come looking for his 'help', and he'd be damned if someone snitched on him to Shizun for not doing his duty as (unnoficial) Head Disciple.

SY, as much as he doesn't really like SJ, for once understands SJ's constant state of frustration when the moment the Peak Lord leaves, his peers treat him like this, and no matter how shitty SJ is- or, rather, may become in the future, SY can't stand being idle as he watches the boy shaking on the floor, gasping in pain.

It's a bit awkward but SY manages to make himself float over towards SJ's trembling body, trying his best to project his own energy outward and reach towards SJ. It's there for only a second, but SY manages to feel a similar connection to when SJ first picked him up, and SY can feel, in a weird flash, the mix of emotions swirling in SJ's soul: his anger, his frustration, but most importantly his deeply rooted sadness, and fear.

It's not really an explanation for why SJ acts the way he does, but SY can understand when a child lashes out in fear when that's all they know. He reaches into SJ's qi, carefully patting it down and soothing it until SJ finally stops trembling and slumps onto the ground, knocked out.

Maybe... Maybe Shen Yuan was in the wrong, and Shen Jiu deserves a second chance.

[pretend-i-don-t-exist]

hm more heavenly demon!sy thoughts,,, i am invested

the system had an error bc sj's body and soul are still very much together bc he hasn't even experienced a single qi deviation yet, so it tries to find a good substitute to throw sy's soul in

when it can't find any, it decides to make a body that sy is most familiar with (it should be a human, but the system was impressed by sy's very passionate rants about lbh's heavenly demon abilities) so boom. heavenly demon sy

he wakes up in the endless abyss. the system has to hibernate bc the body has taken too much of its power so: here is sy, with an almost invincible body, alone in the endless abyss. oh, and he doesn't know about his heritage. all he knows is that he's in the abyss of pidw

ofc sy immediately geeks out over the demonic beasts and all the plants!!! look he could never visualize what a wyrm-mule looks like or how a porcupine-quail could possibly work, and now he gets to see them! irl!!

well not irl exactly, but if this isn't a very weird dream and he's really transmigrated into some background npc, then it's all well and good. his knowledge of the endless abyss should be enough to keep him safe

he does get very weird urges tho like wdym he's suddenly not squeamish with blood?? why is tearing off his arm now a good strategy to get out of the jaw of a black moon python rhinoceros??? sure his body weirdly could regenerate (tested and proven when he keeps tripping over roots that just keep popping up in his way somehow) but he should be a bit more against that, right?

he also gets the urge to bare his teeth when aggressive beasts crowd around him. his teeth are suspiciously pointy when he feels them, and somehow, the beasts are... intimidated? just like that? when he snarls at them. things also bend to his will for some reason? he was irritated with a swamp (he does not want to wade through that), and then the next time he looks back at it, it's gone???

the demons he came across are very polite, too. completely unlike his expectations. sy thinks he's lucky to meet civilized demons with human-like mannerisms, and does not notice that they're batshit terrified of this one heavenly demon conspiciously leaking out so much demonic qi that it's a miracle he hasn't passed out (which is even more scary bc that is a heck ton of qi)

then because sy is sy, he wifebeams the terrified demons. he talks so animatedly with them, asking questions about their customs without judgment! his smile is so pretty and charming! even in his dirty clothing and unkempt hair, he still looks like a beauty!

then sy takes a bath when he arrives at the demons' village and takes offer to wash up, notices his reflection, and promptly freaks out

is he tlj??? no, tlj does not look like this in pidw's official art, but demons can shapeshift, right? has he messed up the plot??? what date is it even?? is lbh even born yet?? is he lbh's grandfather?????

the demons are rightfully frightened but also worried when sy accidentally destroys a wall of the bath in his haste to get out and get some answers. luckily, this is the demon realm, or his tendency to wear only inner robes will be heavily scrutinized!

sy then plans to get into the human realm (he knows of a few ways) to change the plot! he can't possibly leave lbh to suffer like in pidw if he has the ability to change it...

except lbh is not even born yet.

he does meet tlj, and woooo the demon is so chill and has an entire library full of the worst novels sy has ever read in his entire life (still better than pidw). tlj seems like a sweetheart, how could he possibly wage a war against the human realm that led to his imprisonment? smth is fishy here!

(behind him, tlj kills an entire horde of demons for daring to plan to capture sy. sy is now his little brother. sy does not have the choice of refusing)

and so they travel to the human realm together. tlj immediately fucks off to the nearest bookstore, and sy would have loved to follow him except he has Seen the Plot. then he's suddenly trying to pass off as a wandering cultivator that forgot most of the human customs (very suspicious) bc he's spent most of the time researching plants and animals (ok, his infodumps make that believable) in front of cang qiong cultivators

and then cang qiong offers him to become a teacher in the beast taming peak bc why not (they heard of rumors of a kind wandering cultivator with incredibly accurate portrayals and info about demonic beasts, and also sy is acting Very Sus so they kinda want to keep an eye on him)

(tlj is laughing at him so hard he dislocates a shoulder)

look i just want sy to have the time of his life exploring the endless abyss without the system or the plot breathing down his neck and then i want to throw him into the most stressful situations of his life (coexisting with the disciple versions of the peak lords, and also not getting himself killed for being a heavenly demon, and also tlj's steadily increasing panic on how to court a cold human cultivator who could bodyslam him and throw him over her shoulder and walk off to the sunset)

[mentallyunstablethembo]

Ok but hear me out.

Give me a Shen Yuan that was sick in his original body, ye? Nothing too special, I know, but please stay with me on this one-

Make him transmigrate, like he does die, he does get transported into the other world, but it's not as SQQ/SJ.

He has his own original body, maybe he looks a bit more like a xianxia character to fit in, maybe he looks drop dead gorgeous, sure!

But he's still sick

His sickness is still with him, and it's getting worse

Like, SY is actively slowly but surely dying, while maybe he befriends TLJ, SXY and ZZL (if he transmigrates pre-canon) and the three are trying to help him.

Maybe he meets a child SJ and takes him with him, so the poor child watches the only person that cares for him, actively dying.

Maybe he somehow becomes a beloved friend, peak lord or anything that makes the Cang Qiong sect adore him, and therefore be willing to find any cure for him.

Heck, maybe he's a powerful yet sickly and fragile demon!

Maybe he's even apart of the northern realm with MBJ, idk!

But the one thing stays the same.

Sy is dying.

Maybe it's not noticeable at first, like you'd take one look at him and sure, maybe he a looks a bit more tired, a bit paler, maybe even a bit thinner than what's considered healthy. Maybe he let's out a caugh here and there, some completely normal things.

But then there are those small (sometimes rather big) fits where his illness acts up.

Ones where he curls up on the ground, gritting his teeth in exctruciating pain as he coughs out blood, maybe he faints, maybe he has any other symptoms.

And then it gets worse, his health escalates, maybe he can't walk anymore as he's slowly losing his motor functions, maybe he's getting much weaker, his breathing worse as he feels like he's suffocating. Heck, give him any curse marks and stuff too, while you're at it, maybe even without-a-cure!

Point being, SY is dying, and there is no cure.

His death is fated to happen, while he's just waiting and wasting away, he's not that upset either (maybe a little bit).

Give me an au where SY is the mentor, the parental figure of all the sect leaders and demons, give me an au where SY is such a sweet and kind hearted person, one who still loves beasts and demons and everyone, yet is also slowly but surely being poisoned by the very air he's breathing, his body shutting down and wasting away as he's waiting for death, while everyone weeps.

Everyone is trying find a cure, maybe make one too, yet it's all in vain.

SY dies, he no longer has to endure the suffering of his pains, his illnesses, and while he passes away, he leaves behind many mourning a precious and beautiful soul.

[heytheredelulu]

Hey i hope you’re doing well i have an idea for a one shot and was wondering if you could write it.

So basically Bucky hears the reader talking to Natasha or anyone that she thinks she’s too heavy for any partner and that she has given up on dating for a while because of that, and of course Bucky hearing that he starts lifting heavy stuff such as weights, machines or even Steve😭 around the reader to show her he can easily lift her weight as well because he has feelings for her and you can add or change whatever you like and make it smutty idk whatever you think is right i trust your skills.

Hi! I’m doing good, how are you?

This request? Uh, YES. 🙌🏻

I love this idea!

I wrote this fully intending on Steve being like, “She ain’t lookin’, Buck. Lift me.” and then changed my mind and rewrote it when it took on a life of its own. 😂

I live and breathe smut so I definitely threw that in there in the form of Bucky needing to blow off some steam when he thinks about the reader. 😉

Anyway, thank you for the request and I hope it’s what you were looking for!

💋Sj

Bucky Barnes x Plus!Size Reader

18+

Word Count: 2.9k

CW: Male masturbation while fantasizing about oral (f receiving) and sex

“Bullshit.”

Bucky’s ears perk up as he passes the garage and hears Natasha fussing at someone in a string of curses, but it’s your voice that has him peering around the concrete wall with interest.

“I ain’t lyin’ Nat.”

You’re bent over the open hood of an old hot rod, your ass accentuated by the denim jeans hugging your curves. You blindly reach out towards the red headed assassin wiggling your fingers at her that are blackened with grease. Natasha rolls her eyes, pushing off the wall and picking up a socket wrench that she holds just barely in your reach. You let out a sigh, standing upright and snatching it from her.

“Look.” You tell her pointedly, blowing a loose piece of hair back from your face with a huff from your pouty lips. “It’s been months. I’m sufferin’, I am, really. But I’m just over it, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” She replies, leaning her hip against the side of the car, watching you with a skeptical frown. “If you’re suffering, just come out with me. We can hit up that rooftop bar downtown. Have a couple drinks, dance a bit, pick up some hot strangers and scratch that itch. Come on.”

Scratch that itch?

A muscle jumps in Bucky’s jaw at Nat’s comment and he can feel his jealousy simmering low in his gut.

He’s been pining after you damn near since you’d arrived at the compound. The sweet little engineer Tony brought on to help take on his workload was only supposed to stick around and help out for a few months but when the team expressed their disappointment in you leaving and Tony realized despite his astronomically sized ego that he could get twice as much done with your help, giving him the opportunity for more free time with his family- you were brought on full time.

“I can scratch my own itches, thanks.”

Your curt reply to Nat brought Bucky’s attention back to the conversation he was eavesdropping on while the implication caught the attention of his cock, his jeans suddenly feeling tighter as he continued to listen.

“You’re crazy. You need to get laid.”

“Nat.” You warn and turn your back to her to grab a hand towel.

“Come on.” She pleaded, crossing her arms. “You’ve been so wound up. Nothing loosens you up better than a big, thick-“

Nat’s cut off by the hand towel being tossed in her direction and she catches it with a chuckle.

“I don’t understand why you’re so hung up on this.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so afraid to get laid.” She counters.

“I’m not afraid.” You protest, raking a hand through your hair. “I’m just- I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

Nat’s expression softens as she hangs the hand towel over the open hood. “Try?” She asks. “We’re friends, you know you can talk to me.”

Bucky watches you shift uncomfortably and for a moment he feels guilty for listening in, as it’s clear you’re debating on confiding in Natasha and it feels wrong to eavesdrop on something so private. But as soon as you let out that defeated sigh and begin to explain yourself, he’s so goddamn grateful that this was the conversation he had a chance to overhear.

“Men just don’t know how to handle me.” You admit, leaning back over the car and pretending to inspect something to avoid eye contact with Natasha but she isn’t having any of it, bending down to hold your gaze. “How so?”

“They just-“ You huff out a breath of annoyance, bracing your palms on the front of the car and standing upright. “I’m curvy, yeah? And I want a man that’s gonna pick me up, toss me around, hold me up and fuck me on a wall or somethin’ but the last couple guys I went home with they’re so.. boring. Missionary. Doggy. Like for once, would it be too much to ask for a dude to want to, I dunno, have me sit on their face? I swear, it’s like they’re afraid. I ain’t ashamed of my body, I like the way I look but shit, Nat. It really fucks with a girls head to feel like she’s too heavy or something to really be satisfied.”

Natasha’s moving closer to you, beginning to say something about ‘weak men with noodle arms’ but Bucky can’t hear it over the steady thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears.

He can’t believe that your experiences have been so lousy that you won’t even entertain the idea of going out with Nat if she was wanting to pick up guys. Honestly, he’s relieved by that, since the idea of you hooking up with anyone has the knuckles of his flesh hand bleached white with how hard he’s clenching his fist. He flexes his fingers, trying to relax his hand as he feels a wave of embarrassment wash over him. How could he be angry or even jealous when he’s been too shy to make a move?

C’mon Barnes, grow a pair.

She wants strong? You can show her strong.

He sucks in a breath, steeling his nerves before rounding the corner and strolling into the garage with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Hey Nat.” He says with a friendly nod before slowly swinging his gaze over to you. “Doll.” He drawls. “What are you ladies up to this morning?” Your cheeks heat under the warmth of his cerulean eyes roaming over your body and you fumble the socket wrench, earning a lopsided grin from the handsome brunette. “Just- just workin’ on my project.” You stammer, bending down to pick up the tool. Damn, one flash of this man’s pearly whites is all it takes for you to lose control of your fine motor skills? Maybe you do need that itch scratched more than you’ve let on to your best friend and she can tell too, her brow lifting as she watches the scene unfolding.

“Mustang?” He asks, planting his hands on his hips. His eyes follow you as you bend over and reach for the socket wrench that’s just out of your reach underneath the car. When you stretch, your baggy t-shirt rises up your midriff, giving him a glimpse of that cute little pooch tucked into the dark-wash denim jeans that are deliciously hugging your hips and thighs.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “1960’s?” He asks, leaning down behind you. God, what he’d do to bring his palm down hard on your perfect, round ass and watch the flesh redden with each swat of his hand.

“‘62.” You grunt, your fingertips brushing the tool that’s just barely out of reach. Bucky shrugs off his leather jacket and tosses it lazily over the workbench before stepping in even closer to you. “Here, lemme get that for you, doll.” He murmurs, his vibranium hand settling on the underside of the Mustang. Before you can eke out a reply, he’s lifting the vehicle off the garage floor like a goddamn carjack with enough ease that it makes the 3500 pound car seem as if it were cut from styrofoam. You’re frozen in place on your hands and knees from the show of brawn so it’s Natasha that crouches down and quickly grabs up the socket wrench before you snap out of your trance and scramble to your feet.

Nat presses the tool firmly into your palm while giving you a look that screamed, ‘do not fuck this up’ and saunters backwards admist the low groan of your car being set back down on its tires. “I gotta meet Steve for a briefing.” She tells you, which you know is a damn lie- but you nod nonetheless and stutter out a, “Y-yeah, yeah. Catch you later.” She gives you a little wave and jogs off, her red waves bouncing in stride. When you turn back around, Bucky is leaning against the car with his arms crossed, his biceps testing the integrity of his black tshirt.

Goddamn, that’s some quality fabric.

His gaze is locked on you, making you sweat a little under the intense stare so you awkwardly begin picking up the rest of your tools and putting them back in their rightful place at your workbench. A strong arm comes into view in your periphery as Bucky plucks up his jacket and you nearly lose your breath at the scent of cedarwood and leather. He slings the coat over his right shoulder, holding it with his flesh hand, his vibranium hand reaching up to rake through his cropped hair. “Finished so soon?” He asks. “You ain’t gotta quit workin’ just ‘cause I stopped by.”

“Oh, no. No, I-“ You swallow thickly at the way the corner of his mouth twitches up into a smirk. “I actually was just getting to a stopping point.” You tell him, absentmindedly pulling your hair up into a ponytail. With your neck exposed, he wets his bottom lip at the thought of dragging his teeth across the skin and that little glimpse of his tongue flicking out has you struggling to focus anywhere but his mouth. “Got somewhere you gotta be?” He asks, his voice low and gruff.

Fuck, this man is sex on legs. On two thick, strong legs.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, I got a meeting with Tony about a new project.” You explain, though it comes out an octave higher than usual. He quirks a brow. “Yeah? You got a new project?”

“Yep. Yeah. I better get going.” You teeter on your heel, ready to flee.

Chicken shit.

“Hey, wait. Hold on.” He says gently, reaching to grab your wrist and setting your skin ablaze with the touch. You glance over your shoulder at him. “Hm?”

“What’re you doin’ tonight, doll?”

“What am I..?”

Holy fucking shit. Is he gonna-

No, no way. This is Bucky fuckin’ Barnes. You two are friends. He’s your friend. Your insanely hot friend that you’ve definitely had some filthy, sinful thoughts about, but he’s never led you to believe that he’s ever thought of you as more than a friend.

Or has he? I mean, you’ve caught his eyes lingering on you on a few occasions but that doesn’t mean-

“Lemme take you to dinner.”

Oh. Oh.

It takes you a few seconds to realize that you’re staring at him like an idiot with your mouth agape before you click your jaw shut and nod. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, alright.” You manage.

A slow grin spreads across his face. “Yeah? I’ll pick you up at 6?” He asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets as tries to reign in his eagerness.

“That sounds- that sounds great.”

“Great.” He repeats, toeing the ground with his boot before taking a step backwards towards the open garage door. He sweeps his eyes over you one last time. “It’s a date, then.” And he ducks out of the garage back toward the compound.

You said yes.

You said yes.

He slips into his bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him and he falls back onto his bed, letting out a breath of disbelief. He’s taking you out. He finally fucking asked.

Laying in silence for several minutes he replays the interaction over in his mind like he typically did after he was around you. He had a tendency to over analyze your body language, your expressions, hang on to your every word like it kept him afloat in his sea of anxiety; though sometimes, most times, he let himself drown. He drowned in the worry that maybe he was imaging the way your voice caught around him. The way you tensed when he got close.

But you said yes.

You wouldn’t have said yes if he was just imagining it, right?

He lets out a huff, scrubbing a hand down his face as your words to Nat echo through his head like a shout in a cavern.

“Like for once, would it be too much to ask for a dude to want to, I dunno, have me sit on their face?”

And there’s his cock again, straining against his jeans just from the thought.

He groans softly, flicking the button open and unzipping his fly to give himself some relief from the pressure as he stares at the ceiling, watching the fan spin round and round and..

It takes all of the self control he can muster not to reach into his boxers so his hands fist in the sheets in restraint.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s fucked his fist to the thought of you. Hell, it wouldn’t be the 2nd, 5th or even 10th time he’d done it.

He lets his eyes slip closed, imagining your plush thighs straddling his head as you smother him with your pretty, wet cunt. His aching cock twitching with need from neglect as he focuses all of his attention on delving his tongue into your tight, warm, hole.. closing his lips around that swollen button that makes you writhe in pleasure.. your puffy pussy lips grinding against his face as you use him to chase your release .. your sweet, sweet slick coating his chin and-

Fuck it.

He shifts his weight on the mattress, tugging his jeans down enough for his erection to spring free, spitting in his flesh hand and slowly stroking himself. He groans, squeezing the crown of his cock, a bead of pearly precum gathering at his slit that he rubs roughly with his thumb. Bucky can imagine you on top of him, your pouty lips parting with a soft gasp as you sink down onto him, maybe even a hiss or shit- a whimper from the stretch when he splits you open. He knows he’s thicker than most men, a side effect of the serum- everything about him is bigger, thicker, better. Fuck those other men who couldn’t satisfy you. Fuck them. He strokes himself faster, the thought of you bouncing on his cock making his toes curl. Your tits, those big beautiful tits, swinging, slapping together with every thrust.

He’d reach up and pinch one of your pebbled nipples, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers, cupping the other with his hand to give it equal attention. It’d be heavy in his palm, he just knows it. Heavy, warm and filling his whole fucking hand. He imagines yanking you forward and burying his face in those perfect breasts before trailing sloppy, open mouthed kisses up through the valley of them. He’d trace the tip of his nose across the swell and sink his teeth into the supple flesh, soothing the sting with a lave of his tongue, making you collapse forward against him as you cry out in pleasure. He could fuck up into you deeper at that angle, feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix over and over until you see stars and lose your rhythm as your orgasm tears through you.

Yeah, he’d make you come so hard you’re limp on top of him and he’d reach behind you, grabbing a handful of your plump, round ass and taking control, moving you up and down the length of him at a frenzied pace until he-

His fantasy fades as his climax crests and he grunts, thick ropes of come spilling over his fist and onto his pubic bone.

He lies still and silent, his heartbeat a metronome in his ear, keeping time of the minutes that stretch on while he steadies his ragged breathing. With a sigh he sits up, looking down at the mess in his lap as his euphoria dissipates and the shame starts to creep in.

He’s certain of two things in that moment-

One, he needs a goddamn shower and two, this will be the last time he fantasizes about fucking you.

Pulling himself to his feet, he glances over at the clock.

14:17.

He smiles to himself, crossing the threshold into the bathroom and twisting the shower on. His flesh hand tests the water, the warm spray cleaning the sticky release from between his fingers before he steps in, letting the water cascade over him.

Less than four hours. He thinks to himself.

In less than four hours he’ll be sitting across from you in a dimly lit restaurant, watching your eyes sparkle in the candlelight as he prompts you about your favorite things just so he can see the way you light up when you talk about your passions. He smiles to himself at the image of your hands gesturing wildly as you talk, the sound of your infectious laugh and the way your breasts bounce when it bubbles up from your chest.

He begins to stiffen again at the thought.

Goddamnit, his cock just won’t quit, will it?

He turns the knob, the water quickly growing ice cold and he grits his teeth at the temperature change, cursing the serum for making his refractory period so short. He’s grateful for it in the proper circumstance, but when he’s alone it’s a fuckin’ nuisance.

Bucky’s eyes slip shut, focusing in on the feeling of the frigid water splashing against the top of his head and rolling down the taut muscle of his back. Eventually the ache ebbs and he cranks the temperature back up, reaching for his shampoo. The cedarwood fragrance clings to the steam, filling his nostrils as he massages it into his scalp. Tipping his head back under the steady stream, he sighs contentedly.

Tonight’s the night he finally gets his girl.

[patheticpeoplesupreme]

Luo Binghe and Shang Qinghua headcanons

Probably OOC I like it when people get along

but also I like it when there’s conflict

I like it better when they fix that conflict

I can’t explain what I want their friendship to be like, but Binghe’s more than a little mad at SQH

Cuz like, he probably overhears SQQ and SQH conversations and how SQH’s always like “I’m so proud of my son” “and ahh he’s so cool” or something

And Binghe knows he’s not related to the man, and they interact really stiffly in reality, so why is this weirdo acting like this??

And if SQH has these delusions, why hadn’t he stopped SJ’s abuse and all that stuff, or even why hadn’t he helped him when he was obviously in pain

Since SQH obviously knew more than he should

And he remembers that in his childhood, that SQH did try to help him with little trinkets although he didn’t understand why SQH didn’t fully just take him away

And so their relationship with each other is still just super awkward with a bit of slight dislike towards the smaller man

he tries to tolerate him since SQH makes SQQ smile and then eventually they can talk to each other without SQQ in the room

—

Shen Yuan has shown a picture of his old self to Shang Qinghua as a mercy from the System

Qinghua doesn’t have a picture of himself though because he doesn’t like how he looks

—

“Beat him three times daily” mobei Jun told him as advice

And Binghe just looked at him incredulously but thought nothing of it until months later, he’s in the room when SQH talks to SQQ about Mobei Jun

“Oh yeah… he used to beat me up a lot.” Cue SQQ’s horrified and murderous look. “Not—Not anymore!!”

And then Luo Binghe stares at him intensely thinking like, is he serious?

And when SQH leaves he goes to his shizun gloomily like : “Shizun, is Shang—shishu usually this dense?”

SQQ: ?

“Shizun…” Binghe whined and then reminds him of the demon courting rituals

SQQ: oh shit

SQQ looks at Moshang and goes: simps, all of you!

SQQ gives Mobejun the shovel talk anyway, SQH is his to bully

—

Why does Mobei Jun just does anything SQH wants bro is super funny

—

“I created your world. As a story…. I created you.” Shang Qinghua bites his lip before admitting it. He usually wouldn’t say anything, but the System had given them permission to. And fortunately, Shen Qingqiu had stayed by his side while he admitted it.

Shen Qingqiu would usually be on Binghe’s side but he cared about both of them. He doesn’t want it to end badly.

Luo Binghe faces him with a murderous glare, “You’re the reason I’ve suffered so much?”

SQH gulped as Luo Binghe pushed forward threateningly over him. He shivered.

“P—Please have mercy Junshang— Uhm, this slowly servant hadn’t… hadn’t realised that you had become real.”

SQQ reached his hand infront of SQH, “Binghe.”

“Shizun, he’s the reason—!” “Binghe.” SQQ repeated, gesturing to the other door, signifying he wanted to talk in a different room.

He huffed. “Shang Qinghua, who ever you are, leave this place immediately. If you ever dare to step inside my territory this one will rip you to shreds. You are not a god. You are not my god. Leave.”

“Binghe!” SQQ frowned but before he could say anything, SQH bowed, hiding the fear in his eyes.

“Of course Junshang.” SQH flees away

[ace-shenanigans]

First of all, I'm obsessed with your sword spirits art. They are shaken in my brain like beans in maracas.

Second of all. Thoughts.

Binghe's 1st sword and SQQ's sword relation. What if any of Binghe's Shizun-Love leaked into his sword but the subject of it is sqq's sword. Like Master like Sword. But the sword is somehow less pathetic of the two.

Option 2. They (the spirits) are both suffering having to deal with their Masters being lovestruck fudging idiots. The true comradery forged through suffering.

Hope you have a lovely next 24h o7

You flatter me ´∀｀ 💚

I have Many thoughts about the sword spirits and little chance to go off about em so heres my takes under a read more:

Xiu Ya is a very flexible sword spirit, she (and yes were def assuming she/they here because I hesitate to believe SJ would ever trust a man again, even if its just his sword) would have to be to be willing to switch easily after SY becomes SQQ.

For SJ, she comes across as an older, more motherly figure, kinda like the nice jiejie's at the WRP, offering safety and reliable protection. For SY she takes more of a more playful, sisterly angle that allows her to tease her new master for being overdramatic and assuming

Xuan Su has a surprisingly stable spirit for one thats been forever altered by its botched connection to YQY. Every time he draws the sword, it shifts to look a little more like its wielder, and somehow no one has looked closely enough to notice

Its always seen in armor because the sword is only ever drawn in dire, likely life-or-death situations, and keeps his eyes closed until the blade leaves its sheathe.

Xin Mo is an absolutely chaotic thing that wants its wielders intrusive, inside thoughts to become their outside actions. It's a master of manipulation, able to switch tactics as often as it changes hands in order to best suit it's needs. Its also a spirit that becomes bored very quickly, and will make it everyone's problem.

It acts very differently between the two Binghes. With Bingge, where its fed regularly, its more willing to fall in line and not drive him to insanity, and rarely has to resort to manipulating him since theyre typically of the same mind. With Bingmei though, its constantly having to push and goad him to keep it fed and maintained, so its more likely to backfire on him as a result.

Its has a particularly nasty vendetta against SY for constantly blocking its efforts to control Bingmei, but cant do much against him unless it wants to lose its main manipulation tactic against its wielder. It also likes to antagonize Cheng Luan, but its secretly a little afraid of Xuan Su, recognizing the former as a toy and the latter as a threat due to its power

Speaking of Cheng Luan, theyre every bit as proud and excitable as their wielder, ready to spring into a fight at a moments notice. Despite the initial hostilities between their wielders, Cheng Luan has no issues with Xiu Ya, but every issue with Xin Mo since they keep losing to the damn thing

They very much do not like being used by anyone other than their assigned wielder (LQG in this case), but are willing to make occasional exceptions for those closest to him (LMY for example). They dont like being used as an uber, but they like SY!SQQ more than before because LQG takes them out to hunt and fight way more powerful foes much more often

Zheng Yang is baby. Its got golden retriever energy and offers encouragement to LBH, acting as the caring friend and support he was never originally supposed to have. Its protective and expressive, always willing to jump to LBHs aid when he needs it, and can often be seen rattling excitedly in its sheathe when it wants to act but cant

After it breaks and is reforged, its a bit more quiet and sad, but no less comforting as it watches over SY at the sword mound. Its spirit form also has little cracks running along it, forever reflecting its dramatic shattering.

Xiu Ya and Zheng Yang have an interesting dynamic. Under SJ's hand, Xiu Ya paid little attention to Zheng Yang and Zheng Yang held a begrudging respect but obvious dislike of Xiu Ya and its wielder. Once SY comes into the picture that changes, and the two are often seen whispering and laughing to each other at their wielder's antics

[coffeesleep-ooc]

I wish we had more than that one extra that talked about LBH’s experience with SQQ growing up. Like I understand why more of the book doesn’t reference the more casual end of white lotus era…but…I would’ve loved to see it refrenced more…actually nvm I think I would’ve gotten creeped out if done the way I’ve seen some people write it

Omg, thanks for sharing your thoughts 👀👀👀

I thirst everyday for what could have been 😔🙏

Honestly though, one of the few things that disappointed me in sv was the lack of disciple days shenanigans! It would have made the story x3 longer and it’s true that the contrast of a happy white lotus LBH and the consequent betrayal and miscommunications would have taken a hit but!!!! -insert whining dog noises-

i need it!!!

actually i thought that even that kind of content could have been played of as nostalgic and even heartbreaking in the right way, especially if it’s LBH reminiscing, but I also doubt he would avoid those kinds of thoughts a little bit bc he doesn’t want to question SQQ and his love ig? Maybe he is scared that if LBH demands answers SQQ will suddenly decide he doesn’t love him anymore and leave…LBH couldn’t take that

idk, that is my theory but i agree it would have been nice to have more of that content? Maybe crammed in before the IAC? But again, that would have made the novel longer -sighs-

Idk why you would have been creeped out? So im wondering! I mean…i’ve read a lot of fics including smol bunhe, from the horny simping LBH ones, passing through the ambiguous pining-LBH nothing is wrong here-SY and even the platonic end where LBH does have feelings but SY is snagged by someone else (imnot crying you are crying) and i believe that all takes are interesting even if a couple ones are a bit questionable…fiction wise

i do think that LBH growing up would slowly go from ‘Shizun is my god and my role model’ to ‘Shizun is my most silly man who i want to wife up and squeeze as soon as possible but he is still so good and peerless and im a bit potato but if he thinks me pleasing to look at I’ll maybe have a chance if I’m super explicit with my intentions…maybe’. And i think that process has a lot of potential??? Bc like, he puts SQQ in a literal pedestal at first but I imagine that living with the man makes LBH realize that SQQ is a human being with likes and dislikes, with a thin face and silly behavior underneath, who shows LBH more kindness and humanity than anyone else, and this is interesting bc other ppl did it before and after him, but LBH is stuck on him??? Also, we see sv from SY!SQQ’s pov, but again, LBH has suffered and known some of the darkness of the world before meeting SY, i believe his method of protecting himself is either to act cute and be super nice, even manipulative about it, while SJ’s was to be a prickly man with the ‘i hurt them first so they can’t hurt me later’ method, and this is why they are conflictive, different protection methods and different levels of blackening. When LBH realizes there’s nothing for him to cling to in a place, he will go silent like a shadow and endure until he can do something about it, if there’s something about SJ and LBH is about their parallels being breathtaking in the ‘im trying not to cry’ way and both endure and endure beyond their breaking point until something happens. SY transmigrated just in time to show LBH that the place he lived in still had some salvation, that the person that hated him and punished him still was capable of humanity!!! We don’t know what LBH thinks of SQQ changing like that, if he believes SQQ lost his memories or smth, but what he concerns himself with is basking in the light he thought was lost, and this makes him a naive character…he hasn’t lost his experience, he knows still what is to be scorned, alone in the world, treated like a street rat, but hopes that his current situation stays like this forever (except he starts getting greedier for SQQ’s love and affection in other ways)

i digress, LBH starts falling for SQQ bc the man shows him humanity underneath the kindness, later on he will be Shizun’s favorite (the dream for him, truly) but first SQQ shows him that he can make mistakes (skinner incident) and that he can be incredibly stupidly selfless (without a cure poisoning) and finally that he is a silly man, with a kind soul and with a lot of dignity and self-assurance despite his obliviousness of lots of things

On that note…idk why i’ve seen a lot of ppl saying that LBH would have fallen for the first person that showed him kindness? Like yes usually kindness is the base for love and interest, but as i see it, LBH didn’t fall for SQQ right away but gradually, not even knowing it himself until it was a tender devotion he couldn’t even try to suppress. LBH didn’t fall for NYY in sv? And she was kind to him, not helpful at all, but kind and human and flawed, but SQQ was such a bright light, such an imposing and beautiful being to him that he couldn’t feel anything for anyone else! Novel-canon LBH is just too obsessed with Shizun, and even PIDW LBG wanted to take him back with him, i mean…

And even if he did fall for someone kind and human like SY, that’s how life works, and i think that if a character deviates from his original narrative and manages to stay in character then it means it’s well built!

LBH is a very good character in my opinion and BingQiu is a very interesting dynamic full with nuances and hysterics (hehe), i do love reading about white lotus bunhe and i could only imagine what SQQ felt like when he thought that the person LBH was before the conference was dead TAT

and this is getting long hahaha sorry, hope some of my rambling is pleasing and answers your comment at least a bit! Thanks for asking(commenting? Talking to me?) <3

[maneaterwithtail]

"sonama,

"Hey everyone. I have some very bad news. I have SJ-Chan added on discord and have been keeping up with her. Today I received a message that she passed away this morning at 6:30 AM Eastern time. I'm not really sure what else to say about this except fuck cancer. SJ was one of my dearest friends and a cornerstone of this community. She will be greatly missed."

Fuck.

Fùuuuuiiuuuuuuck

I really hoped. Thank you for sharing

I'm not sure if I have the right to call her a friend that I can't mourn as much as family and ever matter I never heard her voice but her writing that's how I knew her she was one of the more elaborate jump chain riders and there were lots of trapper she well won't be able to share with us

I'm not sure how to best describe her summer up she was opinionated and inventive imaginative we debated ethics she held me to account I know that she was hispanic jewish that she had suffered deep betrayal from family but also cared about them very intensely

She was incredibly intelligent she had been a high school cheerleader

She had trouble with her mom approving of her husband

It's just little tip it's that she would share about herself

And now she's gone

She helps make the jump train community what it is and she helps make my world feel like they had a connection outside of a little box

I was really hoping that she'd come back that she recovered that I get to see you right again or talk with her

I hope her surviving family members and friends are able to make peace with what's happened Lord knows in the run up it's probably been nail biters and frustration not to mention there's probably going to be a lot of devastation And stress

I don't know if the world itself is worse but I'm a bit sadder and it feels wrong that I won't be able to have more of her in it

[blueblurseptember]

great points have been raised here and in your other post!

and although ofc, it's a given that we have two different opinion on what kind of life SY lived pre-transmigration, i also quite like your interpretation. it's also a nice thought, just thinking of him as Some Guy™ with no real angst in life. just chill, but a little confused here and there, bc the person he's discovering himself to be is not the sort of guy the social circle he belongs in thinks is "acceptible."

i also quite like your take on how he's not actually chronically ill. like, i actually do like the headcanon of SY being possibly chronically ill in his first life - as an SY angst lover - BUT!!! i actually do agree that he might have in fact been generally healthy. what you said about him being more careful with his diet had he been chronically ill from the start makes sense. on a side note, i think it's also possible that rather than chronically ill, he really just happens to be someone who's generally bad at taking care of himself or has this almost self-destructive tendency of pushing himself too far. before his passing in his first life, it's not so hard to see the possibility that he's really just lucked out this time.

also agree that he might've been suffering some form of undiagnosed depression. like, i don't know, but his sense of humor all too often spells too close as coping mechanism. with my impression that he could really just be someone who tends to push himself too far without realizing it and this undiagnosed depression you see in him, it's not impossible at all that the cause of his death is simply a case of life genuinely catching him at a bad time which pushed him to unknowingly neglect himself to death, quite literally.

btw, that detail about his sister, now that it's been brought up - can i just say how intriguing that is? i've read two of mxtx's other novels: tgcf & mdzs, and if there's anything i've picked up in regards to her writing style, it's that, she strikes me as someone who loves parallelisms and loves to put character and relationship foils in as close proximity to each other to highlight a special, specific characteristic in a certain character or relationship.

now, going back to SY being shown as someone who has many siblings but is specifically closest to his sister - now doesn't that kind of parallel a bit with SJ (the original owner of the body SY transmigrated in) and his relationship with the qius? in a household of men, but only ever really feeling a genuine familial bond with the youngest woman of the household, QH?

makes me think, for what reason was SY put in SJ's body of all characters and for what else reason could there be that we were shown SJ's backstory? this bit about their fondness for their younger sister makes me feel like they're not actually as stark different as the narration (initially) makes one think. if anything, i feel now that they're simultaneously both a foil and a parallel character to each other, in a sense that, while i don't think SY's past is anywhere near as bad as SJ's, but both grew up victimized (in different ways) by the men in their surroundings and found haven (camaraderie, understanding, and acceptance, even) in the company of the wiser and kinder women in their lives.

which ties up quite well, i think, to your pov that shen yuan, in his previous life, found himself in a social circle predominated by dudes who may as well just be poster boys for Just Your Average Straight Guy™ (which is definitely not a positive description, alright).

funny thought though. can i just say that while i was reading your description of the kind of people he probably found himself hanging out with, it suddenly hit me that there might be a chance that our SY is a JOCK and his friend group consists of dumb jocks or dudebros??? and it makes sense too. it would explain why he'd have a high pain tolerance despite not being chronically ill. and also why even though he's not a native of the xianxia world, he's so quick on his feet. like, he can say his ease in learning how to swordfight and circulate his qi is bc he's read a lot of xianxia novels, but like, practice and theory are two different things and he slayed both so well??? hell, he might even be better at making use of his qi than SJ bc SJ also tried but straight up FAILED to save LQG from qi deviating despite being the one who's actually trained cultivation, whereas SY just did it, like-

idk, but it's really giving jock energy. and i don't think it's all that much of a stretch too despite of what he says and makes us think. after all, he's an unreliable narrator. a incredibly unreliable narrator too, to boot!!

damn. can't stop thinking about binghe being shen yuan's comfort character in his previous life now. idk, but i am simply convinced that shen yuan has had the childhood of a typical asian middle child, made worse by the fact that he's from a rich family. all his little quirks and oddities would actually make a whole god awful lot of sense too if that were the case. like it would just makes sense.

ofc nobody else would be as good in watering down their feelings, devaluing their positive qualities, and underestimating their ability to make any real impact (on anyone they of value) than a second child who grew up often compared to the first and had been, intentionally or unintentionally, made to feel like they never have or never will measure up or measure enough.

i think it's also why of all the moments, he only genuinely started to understand binghe's true feelings when binghe began going off about feeling unwanted and never being enough to make anyone stay. all those feelings, those exact insecurities too, despite himself, he understood well enough bc he'd lived with them his entire life. even built half of his personality and put up most of the mental and emotional walls he have up to cope with them.

for so long, he'd seen binghe, post-abyss, as someone so unlike him. as far as he's concerned he's just some average guy who needs to learn how to settle with whatever life gives him bc he'll never be good enough to really, really achieve things. binghe, on the other hand, is an OP protagonist destined for greatness, to have everything and everyone he can ever want, to be chosen by anything or anyone he chooses.

they can't be any more different!!! except as it turns out, casting roles aside, binghe doesn't feel any differently about himself as shen yuan feels about his own self. and worse of all, and he's realized this too, that he's the last straw that got binghe feeling so strongly that way about himself.

anywaY, yes. binghe as shen yuan's comfort character—hoo boy, yes. he would soooo love a character like the original flavor binghe, alright. middle child who's constantly made to feel like he'll never be enough would totally love the living hell out of a white lotus who's constantly treated like a lesser being by the people around him only to emerge as a blackened OP protagonist who finally has achieved power not just over his life but the whole fucking world!!!

even before binghe turned real, he's helped shen yuan embrace, even just a little, his own feelings. they really are soul mates, idk, god.

[chuckduckling]

I feel like Shen Jiu's weird self-contradictions are underrated, so I'm gonna list the ones I remember, cause I think they give some insight into his character.

The most notable one, imo, is this scene from Airplane's extra, where Shang Qinghua tries to warn SJ about Liu Qingge's future death:

SQH's dialogue here is upfront that SJ will try to save LQG from his qi deviation, not kill him. Failing to save LQG will also make SJ "abandon himself to despair".

(more ramblings and screenshots under the cut…)

Yet, despite the fact that SQH is SJ's author and knows what his character will do, SJ's reaction is to balk at the idea of ever saving someone from a qi deviation. SJ doesn't even know that SQH is talking about LQG, his hated rival.

And still, even after SJ's dismissive tone, SQH urges SJ to remember the advice he gave him. It implies that SQH knows SJ is being dishonest about his own feelings (whether to SQH or to himself).

Going back in time, we also have this scene, which takes place after SJ rescues Yue Qi from Qiu Jianluo and ends up getting captured because of it:

You liar, Xiao Jiu! You little lying liar! "That single moment was all I've got in me for the rest of my life" my ass!

Later on, in SJ's extra, SJ is fully planning to rescue YQ from danger (or, at the very least, give him a proper burial). And this scene take place after YQ has already broken his promise and failed to rescue SJ:

After they've reunited, SJ also tries to protect Yue Qingyuan yet again, this time from Wu Yanzi. And he ends up stabbing his master in the back to save YQY's life. His words and his actions just don't match up!

As a third example, we have the scene with SJ and YQY in the Lingxi Caves. Since joining CQMS, we've seen SJ generally try to avoid YQY, behaving as if he dislikes his presence.

And yet, unlike at the annual spars, where YQY talks SJ's ear off with chatter while SJ hems and haws to avoid conversation, that dynamic is completely inverted here:

SJ is the one trying to engage YQY in conversation this time. He keeps trying to chat even after receiving the "cold shoulder". I thought you hated talking to him, SJ...?

(Unfortunately, SJ is trying to start a conversation about YQY's greatest trauma while YQY's hands literally shake with PTSD, but of course, SJ doesn't know that…)

For my final example...well, some might not count this as a contradiction, but I think it points to another notable difference between SJ's thoughts and his actions:

After their reunion, SJ thinks he would prefer a dead YQY to a living YQY who has left him behind to suffer.

But later, in the water prison scene, when YQY literally offers his life to SJ — giving SJ the opportunity to vent his resentment by dragging the sect leader down with him — SJ's reaction is instead to chase YQY away for his own safety:

SJ is given a final choice between a dead YQY, and a living YQY who leaves him behind to suffer, and...he chooses the latter, not the former.

The real common thread between both scenes, as I see it, is SJ's self-loathing and dehumanization. He thinks of himself as "vile and poisonous". He thinks he's "rotten from birth". He calls himself a "thing".

What I find consistent in this list of contradictions is that SJ underestimates himself. He underestimates his own humanity. He defines himself by his worst thoughts, impulses, and actions.

And his self-hatred, his insecurity, it only makes him lash out at others even more. He hurts others, and he hurts himself, and he uses his own hurt to hurt others.

His mind has twists and turns far more complex than that two-bit two-dimensional scum villain from Proud Immortal Demon Way.

And so, to conclude:

I'm interested to hear other people's thoughts as well!

[a-mere-dream]

hey, I loved your response to my martial god yqy ideas... I've been thinking about this poor loser a lot, happy to talk to a fellow yqy stan!!! I have a theory, narratively speaking, (& mb we can talk abt this elsewhere? email? idek, just tumblr asks are a bit weird & I don't log in here a lot), LBH, YQY and Airplane-bro are like some kinda triangle - when LBH pulls the blankie onto himself, the other two are usually helpless. when LBH gets 'healthy', YQY usually gets to be the idiot ex 1/2

2/2 or worse, a creep. SO imagine YQY touches Shen Yuan for the first time and System is like DING, a failed protagonist halo detected! would you like to switch to an alt power source??? by touch I mean the first scene! not sexual touch! so A-Yuan is stuck looking for the lost original goods soul w a budding protag yqy which makes white lotus binghe's halo power off as the story goes on. also turns out YQY and SJ were supposed to be in a whole OTHER story anyway (like Spicy Chicken and co in Magister, who got cut out and inserted later) I hope this is making sense

(When I tell you I scrambled to get this down as soon as possible --)

Shen Yuan doesn't remember a lot from High School. This is, in his humble opinion, a goddamn blessing. Being a teenager is horrible already, but high school? There has never been a more embarrassing time in his life, even while counting that one time his mom came to visit out of nowhere and saw the drying cover of his Luo Binghe body pillow hanging on his laundry line.

So he has repressed most memories, and is perfectly fine with that. Most knowledge wasn't useful anyway.

Looking at the blue screen of the System flickering in and out of view, Shen Yuan wished he had paid a little more in Chinese class.

“What do you mean Yue Qingyuan is a Protagonist?” Shen Yuan hissed under his breath, fighting the urge to slap the System with his fan. “He can't be a Protagonist! There's Binghe already!” And it couldn't be that Binghe didn't have his Halo, why else would the System break that ceiling beam one time with the Skinner Demon?

[Actually, having multiple Protagonists is a time-honoured choice.] The System tries to inform him. [A Dual Protagonist Narrative is when two characters with different goals have their own unique transformation. The characters might not be in direct conflict with one another --]

“I don't care!” Shen Yuan said. “Look at me, not caring in the least.” He was silent for a moment. “Why Yue Qingyuan? He dies in, like, chapter six hundred.”

[Character: 'Yue Qingyuan' dies in chapter 603 of Book: 'Proud Immortal Demon Way.'] The System says. [Character: 'Yue Qingyuan' dies in chapter 3904 of Book: 'The Last Hope of The Mud-Stained Phoenix'.]

At Shen Yuan's disbelieving silence, it adds, almost reticently, [You're the protagonist of your own life. His story doesn't start and end with Character: 'Luo Binghe'.]

“No, it just ends with him,” Shen Yuan says reflexively. “And don't you quote Mob Psycho 100 at me.”

He fidgets with his fan. “Is this — Is this bad? It doesn't hurt him, does it? Not having enough energy? He looked healthy.”

[In Universe-subsets, in lack of a character designated 'Villain' or 'Antagonist', creators latch on to Character: 'Yue Qingyuan'. It is…] A thin balk blinks in and out, like the words are being typed before his eyes, [… Convenient.]

“And the only endings for those are either one of death, physical pain, or of being so pathetic that everyone is content with their current suffering,” Shen Yuan fills in. He tilts his head and frowns. “That sucks.”

He likes Yue Qingyuan. This bleeding heart of a character; Shen Yuan has always taken him to be no-one to be afraid of. How could Shen Yuan not grow fond of him, when he suffered so much and had done so little to deserve it? Tricked by his awful shidi into protecting him, even dying for him while none of that care was recruited…

“What do you expect me to do about it, though?”

[User 002's actions could result in more of the Protagonist Halo being diverted to Character: 'Yue Qingyuan'.]

“Only by being stolen from Binghe.” That didn't sit right with Shen Yuan.

[… If User 002 diverts enough strength from Character: 'Luo Binghe', there might not be enough weight on the narrative to require him to enter Location: 'The Abyss'.]

Shen Yuan lets out a deep breath. “Well, why didn't you say that sooner,” he scolds. Now he had to do it, if only to save Binghe from ever going through that! As long as he made sure Binghe kept enough power to survive any attempts on his life, then surely there would be no harm in this?

* * *

And then he goes on a whole quest to give Yue Qingyuan a satisfying ending, making his story more enjoyable to read so he can attract more fans and through that, more weight on his position as Protagonist. He doesn't know why that has to involve resurrecting Shen Jiu (maybe the story needs a villain? Did Yue Qingyuan secretly resent him? Is that it??) but whoops, now there's necromancy.

I didn't even manage to get into Airplane during all this, sheesh. But holy shit, what a great concept. Luo Binghe hogging the Magical Blanket Of Protagonism.

(And yeah, sure! DM me for my email or Discord, we can take turns screaming over Yue Qingyuan :D)

[oftenderweapons]

Illicit Affairs — Hoseok

Pairing: Hoseok x reader (nicknamed Giggles)

Wordcount: 11.2k

Genre: Smut. A tiny little bit of angst and fluff too but. Smut.

Rating: 18+

Hi bumblebees! Thank you for staying with me so far and for being so kind with hey works and my continuously shifting schedule.

Quick plot! Hoseok and Giggles have just met: Giggles was the substitute for Mickey’s vet and she helped the doggo and Hoseok during an emergency, however the hour they spent together was enough for Hoseok to develop a quite intense crush for the young woman. He decides he wants to invite her to a date and picks his apartment as the location, going out of his way to try to impress her. However, the elegant dinner miserably crashes once his poor nerves abandon him. Fortunately, Giggles can take the reins, but is also willing to give them up at the right moment.

Special thanks to beta extraordinaire, @hobiandsprite​ I really love you. Please, don’t be sad and let those giggles out every now and then.

Moving on to The Big Stuff.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, swearing. Basic BDSM training, Sir!Hoseok x sub!reader; safe sex, briefest mentions of masturbation (male and female), grinding, humping, making out, lots of tongue action, food play (and very messy one at it), cum play, cum eating, mild choking kink, one (1) breast slap, mild fetishism (panties, perfume/smells). Hoseok is overall very controlling, especially while he’s giving her basic training. There’s some sort of exhibitionism (if you like,,,, squint). Also Hoseok is a neurotic mess, Giggles is also quite tense and both like each other a lot, which leads to a few moments of weakness here and there. Mentions of vet emergency (don’t worry, Mickey is doing alright, he was just suffering from the hot temperatures).

Here you can check my full masterlist

Enjoy 💜✨

Jung Hoseok was nervous.

He was tense, palms sweating, nape drenched in perspiration.

He was a ball of nerves and he had never felt like this in a long time. Maybe ever since his first performance in the U.S.

Not like the day of their debut, but close.

And all of this for a stupid date.

He just wanted to know you, see if the image he had built of you actually corresponded with your actual personality.

He cracked his neck and shoulders, pacing back and forth, wondering if it were a good idea having you at his place.

After all, you were Mickey’s vet. He could be safe with you, right? You wouldn’t expose him now, would you?

It was the first time he ever brought someone in his home and he was way too nervous to feel comfortable.

He immediately picked up his phone.

“Jung. Hoseok. I don’t even know why I picked up this call. Why aren’t you getting prepped and polished for your date?” Yoongi’s voice was quiet and gravelly from the other side. It was seven pm, he shouldn’t have been sleeping, Hoseok mused, shaking his head once he realised Yoongi was spending the weekend with Kitten and the two had probably been dozing off on the sofa all afternoon.

“I think I fucked up. I like this apartment, I can’t jeopardise my home.” He panicked, finally losing his cool.

Yoongi inhaled and groaned as he stood up, leaving Kitten alone to rest undisturbed. “She seems a kind person. A smart one too. Just talk to her.”

“You know I suck at talking!” Hoseok whined, combing his hair off his forehead. “I don’t know why I want to impress her so bad.”

Yoongi chuckled. “Because you have a crush on her.”

“But I don’t even know her!” Hoseok protested, sitting on the sofa for a second before standing up again.

“That’s the key ingredient of a crush. Once you start getting to know her, you either grow out of it or fall in love.”

Hoseok cocked his head and toyed with his earlobe nervously. “Do you think she’ll like me? I mean, she looks so sweet, and so innocent and I can’t even imagine her being into—”

“Don’t judge. Strange fits sometimes work. Think Jimin and Princess. Seokjin hyung and Angel. They work. Strange, I know, but they do.”

Hoseok exhaled.

“Stop pacing. Don’t be too hard on yourself. First date is always a bumpy road. Maybe you’ll find out she’s not your thing and all these worries will be gone by the end of the night.”

“What if I like her and she doesn’t like me?”

Yoongi softened. “It’s all part of the game, Hobah.”

Hoseok nodded. “I have to go see if the chef needs help.”

Yoongi grinned. His friend was really going out of his way. Once, all he wanted were hotel rooms and quiet, curvy brunettes with so many sins they had officially given up on heaven at least a lifetime ago. “No matter how it goes, I’m sure you’ll find someone right for you.”

Hoseok nodded curtly before realising his friend couldn’t see his reply. “Thank you, Yoongi.”

“Sweep her off her feet, Casanova.”

With a bubbly laugh, Hoseok interrupted the call, headed to the private kitchenette. “Can I help you in any way?” Hoseok asked, still keeping his hands on his stomach, trying not to touch anything that could possibly cause a disaster — which considering the setting and his poor cooking skills meant everything.

“It’s okay. I can take care of everything. Don’t worry. Relax.” The chef almost wanted to take a second to pat the younger man’s back. He was probably six years his senior but the stress of a first date was timeless.

And the poor guy was sweating disastrously.

“Okay, then I’ll go check the table.” Hoseok murmured.

“Already settled. And the cake  is waiting in the fridge. It’s still too hot for it.” The chef replied as he turned off the stove since the sauce for the noodles had reached perfect texture. “Maybe a small glass of soju could help?”

Hoseok shook his hands in panic. “Oh, no. That would make it all worse. Why is it so hot in here!”

He walked away from the kitchen, once more staring at the table near the wide floor to ceiling windows. The view would soon turn stunning, the Han river running like a pitch black road, cutting the city in two, Itaewon lighting up in the distance and emerging like a glowing mirage against the night sky.

What if she’s scared of heights?

He banged his head against the wall, pacing again, texting the group chat.

HS: “What if she suffers from vertigo?”

SJ: “You didn’t place the table by the window, did you?”

Hoseok tugged at his hair, undoing a button on his shirt. Why was everything so fucking hot?!

HS: “Should I move it? I have ten minutes! I can move it.”

TH: “Don’t. You can place her with her back to the window if she feels uncomfortable.”

JK: “You’re such a loser, hyung. Relax, it will work out.”

HS: “DON’T TELL ME TO RELAX YOU UNGRATEFUL RASCAL”

JM: “Okay, let’s calm down. Personally I would feel even worse with my back to the window. You can move to the coffee table. It will feel more informal and you will FINALLY GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS,

JM: “she probably just wants to chat over fried chicken while you’re going to make her uncomfortable with all that finesse.”

NJ: “Gotta agree with Jimin on this one. She’ll simply want to chat. You’ll want to chat and get to know her.”

YG: “I told you it will be alright now stop spamming.”

HS: “AND I SUCK AT CHATTING”

JK: “yeah, you kinda ramble”

JM: “not helping Guk.”

The doorbell rang.

Fuck.

He pocketed his phone and headed to the door. “Yes?”

“Uhm… It’s confusing here, I think you need to pick me up.” You said anxiously over the intercom.

“I’m coming. Wait in the foyer.” He slipped on his shoes and got in the elevator, cracking all the joints of his fingers as it descended, going through the process again once he had cracked them all. He dumbly wished he had more fingers.

The door opened and there you stood with your back to him, your shoulders covered by a messy tumble of hair.

“Hello?” He called, making you turn around immediately.

His stomach turned upside down when you hit him with your sweetest, most radiant smile as you faced him. “Hi!”

He felt dumbstruck. You looked adorable, way too pretty for him. Way too incredible for anyone in the universe. “Hello.” He repeated, feeling a nervous smile constrict his face.

It almost looked like a grimace. For a second you thought you had somehow disappointed him. Maybe your dress was too informal? Were you too underdressed?

Staring at his outfit, you realised you were.

“You look very handsome.” You flattened your dress nervously, aware of every movement you made, feeling ridiculous.

“Oh, thank you.” He emitted the most neurotic laugh. Pull yourself together, Jung Hoseok, he innerly scolded himself before gesturing to the lift. “Shall we?”

You nodded, your glee completely lost. Staring at your dumb flats, you approached the opening doors and entered, Hoseok following suit.

You both stayed silent for a couple floors. “How was your day?” You managed to find the guts to ask.

“Uhm… Okay, I guess? My family came to pick Mickey up the other day so it’s been very quiet and a bit lonely.” He smiled but he looked sad.

You nodded. “Pets really change the whole feeling of home.”

He noticed you pressing your hands together before your lap, tucking your elbows against your sides as you tried to shrink yourself enough to disappear. You knew you should have bought a nice dress for this. You cursed your childish tastes and your sweet saffron dress, too demure and cheap for him. You had maybe spent 30,000 won on it, probably the equivalent of his shoelaces.

Screw that — obviously even his shoelaces cost more than that.

You started sucking at your lips, frowning at yourself for messing up your lipgloss. Out of nerves, you started twisting slightly side to side, your dress moving slightly with the motion, your eyes still focused on your shoes.

He was intimidating. Why in the world did you accept a date with him? He was way out of your league! All it would be was one date you would remember someday in your old years, annoying your grandchildren with that one time you had dinner at one of the most incredibly powerful and famous artists of the world.

Hoseok surreptitiously dried his palms against his trousers. He looked at you. His stomach turned again. He wondered how he would manage to eat all that food. All he could do was look at you and take in the cute freckles, that peppered your nose and cheekbones, and your arms too.

“You have freckles.” He noted absentmindedly, a thought unwillingly turned into speech.

You turned your head to him, batting your lashes confusedly. Was it a good thing or a bad thing?

“Yes.”

“You look like a strawberry.” Jung Hoseok, what the fuck.

You frowned. Again, was that good or bad?

“No one has ever told me that before,” you replied with a tense giggle.

He cocked his head at the sound. That was sweet. He liked that. Could he make you laugh like that again? “And you look very pretty in the dress. That shade of yellow really compliments you.” He confessed, feeling his whole face blush.

This felt like his first crush, when he would hide behind corners not to face the girl he liked, and when he would hide his face because it made him feel strange to be looked in the eye by her. She was way too pretty for him.

Thank the heavens, you thought as the doors finally opened on his floor.

He was drenched in sweat. He could literally feel the back of his shirt stick to his skin. He hoped you wouldn’t notice.

He smiled again, this time more relaxedly as he led the way. The lighting was perfect, the deep night sky splashing its colour over Seoul, the billowing darkness of the Han, the magical glimmering of Itaewon, like a flock of fireflies in the distance.

“Goodness gracious,” you exclaimed, walking toward the window and looking out, completely ignoring the table. “This is… It’s like flying.”

He smiled and let his shoulder sag in relief, his elated exhale cooling his heated chest. “I was panicking because it kind of hit me that you could be scared of heights. Like one of those last minute panic thoughts.”

You turned to him to comfort him. “It’s—”

You noticed the table. You noticed the gargantuan quantity of bowls and dishes and plates and cups spread all over it.

Suddenly it all made sense.

“Was this supposed to be a formal dinner?” You asked, your whole face scrunched in perplexity.

He froze in utter confusion. “Just dinner.”

“Are you okay?” You asked, looking as his left eyelid started pulsating with small flutters.

He hurriedly placed his hand over it, turning his back to you. “Yeah, just… Hot weather, blood pressure...”

You walked closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He was drenched. “Jung Hoseok,” you called calmly.

You could feel his heartbeat get three times faster.

“Hoseok. Turn around,” you told him sweetly, rubbing his shoulder-blade softly, completely ignoring the way the fabric stuck to his skin.

He turned to you, still cupping the left side of his face with both hands.

“Are you nervous?” You asked, feeling the ridge of his shoulder with your fingertips.

He nodded shyly, giving you the smallest pout.

“And you got a full meal for this? Were you trying to kill me by overfeeding me?” You asked with a tiny smile.

“I— I didn’t know what you like and I hired a chef so we could have excellent food here at home and—”

“This wasn’t necessary, you know that right?” You rubbed your thumb against the muscle and bone of his shoulder. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t appreciate it, but it seems like you went maybe… slightly out of your way for this.” You noticed more details, like the flowers and the candles and… wait, he hired a chef? There was another person that would take part in your date as a silent, distant viewer?

“Is it too much?” He asked, frowning and grimacing.

You offered him a lopsided grin and tipped your head to one side, then to the other, back and forth in a so-and-so gesture.

He covered his whole face with his hands and collapsed on the sofa. “Shit, I fucked up so bad.”

You crouched down before him, making sure that the dress didn’t expose too much of your thighs. “It’s okay. Would you like to have a formal dinner?”

“I just wanted to make a good impression.” He whined, tugging at his hair once more.

You touched his forearms, trying to ease his tension before realising that you were technically strangers and maybe he didn’t like being touched. You scolded yourself for your over-tactile approach, and your dumb habit of treating everyone like abandoned puppies. Embarrassedly you placed your hands on your lap, his face raising to meet yours as he felt your fingers leave his skin. Had he done something wrong? Had he made a fool of himself one more time, without even knowing?

“You already made a good impression—”

“I wanted to confirm it!” He wailed exasperatedly.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you tried to calm him down. “We can walk this walk or do something more low-key. More... relaxing,” you suggested, smiling easily, calmly.

He could feel himself calm down. “Would it disappoint you if we just… I don’t know... ate some noodles over a glass of soju and beer?”

You giggled. “That would make me ecstatic.”

“Let me go call off the chef then.” He stood to his feet. “Thank you so much.”

You shrugged and beamed at him. “No biggie.”

In two minutes the chef came out of the kitchen, bowing at you while you still sat on the sofa. “Good evening. I wish you a good meal. I hope you’ll enjoy the food.”

“Thank you for your hard work! I’m sure I’ll enjoy it!” You replied politely and warmly, watching the man collect a bag from the entry room and bow to Hoseok as he accompanied him out.

“He had already finished cooking.” Hoseok exhaled. He looked ten years younger and significantly less stressed. “The meat had already been grilled, it just needs to be warmed up in the oven.”

“You mean there’s more food?” You asked, eyes wide in terror.

He started shaking his hands in equal fear. “We don’t have to eat that too. Maybe just a couple short ribs?” He wondered.

You stared at the rice and side dishes on the table. It was probably four times what you normally ate, and that was without considering his half of the table. “You have glass noodles?” You asked, and he nodded excitedly at your interest.

“With aubergines and mushrooms and pork belly?”

You felt your mouth water. “Can we have those though?”

He smiled excitedly. “The chef was stir frying the vegetables so we would have to finish that.”

You shrugged. “I can do that while you go get changed, if you’d like. Wear something fresh and cozy.”

He looked around nervously.

You immediately realised what was wrong. How could he let a stranger wander through his house? And he wasn’t just anyone. He was a celebrity. A famous person. What if he thought you would sneak through his private spaces and sell information about him to the press?

“Uhm—”

“Oh my god. No, it’s okay. Who would let a stranger stay in their home while they’re in the shower. Dumb me. Sorry.”

He blinked a couple times. “It's the first time I have invited someone in my house, except for my close friends.” He looked down and smiled, his cheeks shooting up in a complicated mix of sadness and joy. “I'm nervous because of that too.”

You nodded. “I know it could sound dumb to say but I care about you. And I'm not interested in gossip and press and all of that. I will respect you and your home. It's basic human decency,” you said, sitting next to him. “I only suggested you go get a change of clothes because that cannot be comfortable and I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted out of that.”

He looked up at you with big, soft eyes. “It would really be okay?”

“Yes, it would, Hobi.” You flinched at the nickname. “Hoseok. Sorry.” You wanted to tear your own tongue off.

However, just as much as you felt disappointed at yourself for the small slip, he felt warm about you calling him by a nickname. He wanted you to say it again. And again. And well… again but in other ways.

“I'll be back in five minutes, just to rinse off and get comfy.”

You nodded. “I'll wait here and then we'll get the noodles ready.”

Hoseok felt extremely relieved once he changed his clothes. The loose linen joggers felt like a soft cloud around his legs, air already circulating better against his skin. And the satin shirt made him feel classy and casual at the same time.

He was pleased at the comfort-looks ratio of his outfit and exited the room confidently. He was further reassured once he found you scrolling through your phone, sitting there innocently, smiling at him once you saw him appear.

“Okay, ready to go?” He asked, standing in front of you, all set to accompany you to the kitchen.

You nodded and took his hand as he helped you up. “Let’s go.”

He smelled amazing, like anise and patchouli. Something sweet and manly at the same time. It suited him perfectly.

Standing a bit too close after he tugged you up, you surreptitiously tried to sniff him, your eyes falling shut once the vaguely honeyed fragrance met your nostrils.

He observed you as you stood there, clearly entranced. Heat crept up his cheeks as your breath tickled down his neck: he was slowly becoming aware of your presence, of the warmth that your skin radiated, of the way a strand of your hair skimmed his arm.

“I like your perfume,” you whispered.

He felt his knees grow vaguely wobbly, a swoony, shy smile stretching his lips.

The moment you opened your eyes, you realised his face was just a few inches away from yours, his blush visible in high definition right before your eyes.

He looked so incredibly, adorably embarrassed. “Thank you,” he replied quietly, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the moment.

Your eyes met his, and for a second he hoped you would get on your tiptoes and kiss him, but you casually turned around and started walking away, turning to him only to ask about the kitchen.

Trying to keep his delusions on the low, he led you to the kitchen, where all you could see was the tidy chaos of creation.

A few bowls were piled neatly in the sink, together with lined up utensils. You let him show you the several drawers and cabinets, explaining where to find a frying pan for the vegetables, the noodles already cooked and marinated in the secret sauce the chef had prepared.

All he could do was stare as you easily made your way through the motions, the main dish of your meal ready to be served after a few minutes, the vegetables keeping a crispy texture while the noodles hit a chewier feel once you mixed the two together.

You set both on different bowls and offered them to Hoseok. “I’ll put a couple short ribs in the oven.”

He nodded and reached the dining table, frowning at all the food spread there in cups and plates and dishes and bowls.

His disappointment was short-lived.

“Don’t worry about it,” you murmured gently, completely incapable of keeping yourself from tracing his spine in between his shoulder blades.

You watched his back straighten, the glossy satin glimmering at the shift of muscles and tendons underneath.

You wanted to see that again. No shirt on, next time.

You shook your head and blinked rapidly, trying to awaken yourself from your fantasy.

He set the bowls down and you sat in front of each other, thanking for the food quickly before you started chatting about which food was where.

The meal went on calmly while you talked about your family, your job, and the pets you had visited during the day. At the same time, he explained some of the undercover dynamics of his job, like all the training and briefing and preparations necessary before interviews, photoshoots, or even something as basic as a public appearance where all they had to do was stand and look pretty for the photographers. He teased the theme of the Run episode they had just filmed — which was almost fifteen episodes ahead to the one that had just been aired.

You chit-chatted for a long while, your conversation resembling the sound of chirping birds thanks to Hoseok’s naturally melodic intonation of speech. He was lovely when he stumbled a bit over his words, the ridge of his ears scarlet with embarrassment once a slip of tongue had him making a lewd allusion you caught with a mischievous grin he couldn’t quite catch since your eyes were glued to the table; he had been too busy being ashamed of his freudian lapsus to actually notice that you had enjoyed the reference.

He was saved by the sound of the oven beeping, telling him that the ribs were warm and ready, which made him excuse himself.

He returned just a minute later with more soju and beer, asking if you were okay with the serving or if you were full.

The smell was so inviting you let him convince you.

No matter the large dinner and the several dishes, you managed to eat way more than what you thought, only a quarter of the table remaining untouched.

“Okay, maybe we could pack up the leftovers.” You suggested, standing up once your conversation hit a natural pause, comforted by the feeling that Hoseok no longer felt like a stranger to you.

You helped him, easily getting acquainted with his living room and kitchen. It felt nice to get gradually more independent, enough that you could easily help him up with the containers and that you could assist him with organizing the tupperware in the fridge.

It was all going okay until you were standing in front of the open fridge, ready to close it when his hand landed on yours on the handle, holding the door open. He leaned against your back, grabbing a paper box from the top shelf.

“Sorry,” he spoke quietly, all chirpiness gone.

Shivers propagated from your spine to your limbs, your brain suddenly struck by the feel of perspiration coating your inner thighs. You felt wet and you weren’t sure if it was sweat or actual arousal.

His perfume came in again once he stretched to reach the box.

Hoseok’s attention moved to the mole on your neck as you leaned your head against his shoulder. “Careful, it’s heavy,” he said, giving a quick look at your lashes, at the freckles peppered over your cheekbones, your face turned to the side, ready to nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

His hand was hot against yours, his back light and solid at the same time.

He parted from you, feeling disappointed with the fact that he had to move, biting his lip as his arm struggled keeping the box upright.

You caved slightly as cool air replaced the warmth of his chest, still feeling the phantom presence of his touch.

“Let’s go back to the living room.” He bit his lip, grabbing another bottle as you almost ran from him.

You weren’t okay with what was going on. Not one small bit. You were not okay with the idea of getting drenched and making a mess of yourself on the first date. You were even less okay with the idea of going back home and spending all night with your hand between your legs, thinking about the mind-blowing sex Jung Hoseok was most definitely capable of performing. With a body like that and years of pilates lessons, there was no doubt he could rearrange your organs as your legs and arms bent to accommodate him and please him.

You were even less pleased by the way you craved to satisfy him. You wanted to hear him moan and whine with his melodious voice. You wanted to hear the symphony of his pleasure, the sound of his cries, the smashing of skin against skin, and maybe the legs of the bed scraping against the floor, the headboard thudding against the wall.

You wanted his perfume on your neck, against your chest. You wanted your thighs to smell like him, the scent of your sex mingling with his cologne. It was primal and visceral and obscure and thrilling.

And then a sick side of you wanted to wake up all the neighbours, let them know he was living the night of his life. And since you could only hope of getting a second chance, you found yourself ready to use the night you’d been granted, if fate would allow you an in to the sinful heaven you were imagining.

After all, you weren’t even sure he still liked you.

As he sat in front of you, Hoseok observed your side profile while you stared out of the window, completely lost in your thoughts, your cheeks reddened because of the alcohol.

He was so whipped for you.

However, he knew the initial thrill would eventually fade and leave him with an adorable, beautiful young woman who could never own his heart or tend to his vulnerable side. It had happened so many times before that he was just waiting for his interest to die down.

Because right as he stared at your dreamy expression, he realised he would never lay a finger on you.

You were far too precious for him to sully you with his dirty paws and devilish ways.

With a sliver of sadness tainting his smile, he placed the cake in the middle, preparing two forks, one on your side and one on his.

“I’ve heard champagne is great with strawberries,” he commented, opening the bottle and awakening you from your daydream.

You blinked a few times. “Oh, just a little or I’ll end up dizzy,” you replied with a small smile. “This cake looks beautiful.”

“I hope you aren’t allergic to strawberries or dairy products,” he mused, lifting up his glass to clink it with yours. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you repeated before answering his questions. “Luckily I don’t have any allergies. Usually I prefer eating fruit and vegetables, but I’m pretty cool with any kind of food.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hoseok replied before realising he’d better never see you again. You were too tempting, too pretty, too gentle and overall too attractive for someone like him. Chances were you would be a bit disappointed but would find a proper date within the next two weeks. Women like you were far too requested and treasured in a city like Seoul.

You were suitable from head to toe. You had a degree, a job, a place to yourself, you were accomplished. And then your innocent looks, your kind manners, the caring side he had the fortune of catching a glimpse of.

You would be taken in less than three weeks. He could tell.

It was a mystery to him how you were still single after eight months in the city.

He found the courage to look up from the dessert, only to regret it immediately.

Your mouth was wide open in an attempt to chomp on a huge strawberry, your lips rosy, your nose smeared with cream.

I shall not.

I cannot.

I should not.

He paused.

Fuck. I will.

He placed down his fork and stood to his feet, your eyes following him as he came to your side.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, looking at his stone-cold expression.

You put your fork down, staring back at him with concern.

His hand moved tentatively to your cheek, laying gently along your jaw.

Turning to him, you stared some more, your chest inflating and deflating rapidly and deeply — which was not lost on him.

Too afraid to look, you closed your eyes as he leaned down his thumb moving closer to your mouth, parted as you found it increasingly difficult to breathe.

Your whole world was dark and hot once his breath fanned over your face.

With overwhelming desire coursing through him, Hoseok stared at every single detail, drinking you in with eyes so hungry, like he could swallow every freckle, every mole, every bit of plump flesh and bony edge.

With his hand trembling slightly at the strange position, he dragged his thumb against the tip of your nose, collecting the cream smeared there.

Your eyes opened in surprise at the unanticipated motion, meeting his lowered eyelids, his lovely lashes making an appearance against the fair skin.

And then his thumb met your lips, covering them in sweetness.

“You had cream on your nose,” he said, his eyes never abandoning the curves of your lips.

Jung Hoseok knew he was a sinner already. But with heartbreaking realisation, he knew the next action would deem his fall.

His tongue slipped out of his mouth, guided by a need so deep he could barely control. With the worst intentions, he focused on touching you as little as possible, trying to scoop up the cream caught on the gentle petals of your lips.

What he didn’t expect was for your own tongue to slide out and brush against his.

From there, it was only ruination.

His tongue slid in your mouth, catching on all the flavours of the dessert. It was strawberries. Strawberries everywhere; your freckles, your hair, your shampoo, your dress, he was possessed by them, drowning in a forest of strawberry bushes growing all over him, climbing into his mouth and underneath his clothes.

“Hobi,” you called weakly as he let you go, your body shooting up on your feet as you tried to chase after his mouth, tried to have his arms around you.

He moaned and caught you, placing his forearm against your lower back and holding your cheek with the other. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He placed a chaste kiss on your lips. “I promised myself I wouldn’t but you’re too hard to resist.”

You looked at him with pleading eyes, kissing his jaw, trying to reach the underside of his ear. “Please.”

You tried to calm your breathing by inhaling deeply through your nose, which in retrospective was an awful move since his scent filled your lungs and all you could do was whine in reply, the sound ridiculous and embarrassing to your own ears.

“I’ll do bad things to you, honey. We should stop now,” he said, trying to be judicious.

“Please,” you begged again, rubbing your face against his neck, already trying to cover yourself in his perfume. “Just a kiss, please.”

Closing his eyes, he gave in, following the line of your neck, the sweet mole at the base, drawing your throat with the inner side of his lips.

“Hobi…” You whined once more before receiving a gentle tug at your hair.

“I’m getting there, don’t be impatient,” he growled, making your neck stretch backwards. Once more his tongue slipped out, drawing a line from the hollow between your collarbones all the way to your chin, stopping at your lower lip. “If you’re patient you get a reward, see? That’s how it works with me, sweetheart.”

He kissed your mouth, first delicately, tentatively, trying to feel you open up and give in.

Once you did, he locked your face against his with the hand of his nape, following your body as you walked backwards, reaching the sofa.

“What do you want to tell me, my pretty strawberry?” He teased once he allowed you to let go of him.

“Thank you.”

It was not what he expected, but it made his stomach churn with longing. He needed to please you more, give you more, just to hear those words again.

“You’re welcome, honey. Now, tell me. What do you want me to do, sweetie?” He watched as you sat on the carpet.

You remembered how soft it had felt earlier under your knees. “I wanna make out?” You asked, lashes batting. You didn’t want to sound eager.

“Just make out?” He asked, sitting down in front of you. There was no way he would allow you to blow him tonight.

You looked at him with sparkly eyes. He wanted to dive into them, to feel the magic they held glow inside his body. “Am I allowed to ask for more?” You questioned with the sweetest pout.

“You can ask me anything, honey.” He skimmed the skin of your jaw with the back of his fingers before feeling the hot curve of your neck under his palm.

“Would you think ill of me if I asked for more?”

He shook his head and smiled softly. He would never think ill of you. Not even if you asked him to fuck you for a whole audience of connoisseurs to stare. “You're my cute, little strawberry. I could never think lowly of you.” He cooed.

“What if I wanted you to… to fuck me?” You asked, biting your lip nervously before looking at him.

He thought about the consequences for maybe half a second. He felt awful because, at the end of all the reasoning he knew he would hoard you and every single ounce of pleasure he could coax out of your body.

“Are you sure you want that?” He asked, letting his hand follow the path between your breasts, down to your waist gripping your side.

You licked your lips and nodded. “I'll be so good to you.”

His grin was outright evil. “I know you will, baby.” He kissed your temple. “I need to go get protection if that's what you want. I'll give you a minute to think about it and if you still think so when I'm back, then we're gonna deal with your needy head, mh?”

You nodded, staring at him as he stood up, incapable of not studying his crotch where his cock was visibly tenting his loose trousers.

He chuckled as he watched you stare. “It'll be yours if you still want it later.”

Your eyebrows raised in disappointment as you watched him leave.

So… it was actually going to happen. Did you want it to happen?

What a stupid question! Yes. Of course.

You wanted him and it scared you and thrilled you at the same time.

His footsteps reached the room once more, disappearing once his feet touched the carpet.

“Okay. Here we go, sweetie. Are you still sure you want to have sex with me?” He asked, kneeling and moving your hair off your face, your head reaching his sternum from your seated position.

“Yes, I'm sure,” You confirmed curtly. “Please.”

Oh, to hear you beg. He could cum from that alone. It was intoxicating. And he wasn't even touching you. He could only imagine what sounds you would make once his cock would fill your cunt.

“You want the bedroom—”

“Here. Please.” You shut your eyes tight. You felt like an animal, willing to fuck wherever, and the immense temptation of feeling the plush carpet underneath your back, the city lights illuminating his skin…

Hoseok inhaled.

You were wilder than what you looked and such information aroused him immensely.

“Lay back, honey.” He murmured, extracting three small squares of foil from his pocket and laying them on the coffee table.

Slowly, you lowered your back to the carpet while he kneeled close to you, your legs rotating so that your feet laid right in front of his knees, your legs bent and pressed together.

“That's nice, ____. Lovely,” he said before placing his hands on your knees. “Would you like to spread your pretty legs for me?” He asked, his fingers sliding down your thighs, reaching the hem of the dress.

You looked adorable once you demurely parted your feet to offer him some space between your knees, the hem of the dress moving closer to your lap.

His legs slotted between your thighs and he bent down, reaching for your face. “Such a good girl,” he praised you, cooing once he noticed your cheeks redden. “So adorable.”

On all fours on top of you, you felt the unique shape of his mouth draw your throat before giving a lick. “I bet you taste like strawberries all over.” He started kissing down your chest, rubbing his cheek against your small breasts. “You make me feel like a man starved,” he continued, kissing your stomach, your abdomen, laying one small peck on the fabric covering your belly button.

“Hoseok,” you whined, feeling his hands around your hips.

He stopped brusquely, his body entirely leaving yours. “Now, now, sweetie. What did you just call me?”

You batted your lashes as you stared at him in confusion. “Hoseok.”

“Okay. If you want to have sex with me, honey, that name will not do.”

You stared at him some more.

“I’m Sir,” he affirmed sternly. “The moment you get wet between your legs, I become Sir to you, understood?”

You nodded quickly, breath and brain completely stolen out of you.

“No nodding, my cute berry. Either ‘yes, Sir’ or ‘no, Sir’. Let’s try again. Is it clear what you must call me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He grinned and kissed your belly again, just a bit lower. “That’s excellent. Well done, ____.”

You smiled and placed your hands on his hair, feeling the soft locks as he looked up at you.

He growled at that, your fingers naturally curling in fists as you brought them to your chest. “A very good girl indeed.”

You propped yourself up to your elbows once he lifted the skirt of your dress.

He could barely believe you. “Goodness.”

“At first I thought my dress was stuck on my underwear when you called me strawberry.”

Under the cutest, loveliest, most girlish dress he had ever seen, he was met by another adorable surprise. You were wearing a playful pair of ruffled panties in gingham print, with a small strawberry embroidered on your mound.

“You’re going to kill me,” he moaned, eyes closing before he dipped his head between your legs, studying the patch of wetness on the gusset of your panties, drawing a line from there to your clit, eliciting a moan. “You’re so sweet. And so evil at the same time.” He bit your inner thigh, making you wince. “Can’t believe that song predicted you on my carpet.”

You giggled and arched your hips against his face, your wetness meeting his cheek lewdly.

He inhaled you, completely intoxicated before he came back up, his arms caging your head. “You really rubbed yourself against my face, honey?” He asked with a stone cold expression.

You were afraid again, but that didn’t keep you pussy from clenching around nothing.

“Yes, Sir.” You replied, the respect in your voice nothing but a taunt.

“If you make a mess you gotta clean it, sweetie. Understood?” He asked, grabbing your face and angling his cheek to your mouth. “Clean it.”

“Please, Sir,” you mewled, trying to push your crotch against him, crying out once you noticed his body was too far away for you to find something to grind against.

“Clean after yourself. Now.”

You did as he told you, feeling the salty, bitter tang of your arousal transfer from his smooth skin to your tongue.

“All of it,” he muttered once you stopped after the first lick.

You completed your task, his pelvis lowering to yours as a reward. “There you go. Now thank me.”

Your arms moved around his torso, trying to get him closer, just to brush your chest against the soft, smooth satin of his shirt.

“I said, thank me.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You felt him cave immediately, giving you his hard and lithe body against your chest, your crotch, right in your arms as your legs wrapped around him. You felt crazy, grinding against him like a teenager, ridiculously reminded of how you used to go off by humping a pillow. “Please, inside,” you wailed, your sigh hitting his chest and disappearing underneath his shirt. Once you inhaled, his cologne felt like a bruising kiss, your hips meeting his harder, faster.

“You like my perfume?”

You nodded furiously.

Not again. He violently separated himself from you. “What did I tell you about replies?” He scolded you.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” You looked down with repentance. “I like your perfume very much, Sir.”

“That’s right. Good girl. Now, after I praise you, thank me.” He pushed your dress up as his hand dragged heavily from your crotch to your throat.

“Thank you, Sir,” you replied obediently, watching as he got on his knees and tugged his trousers down, the white boxers underneath surprising you as they outlined his length perfectly.

“You want it out?” He asked, watching as you sat up straighter and licked your lips.

You were almost ready to nod when you caught yourself, Hoseok smiling proudly once he saw you correct your behaviour. “I want it out, Sir.”

“Excellent.”

He lowered his underwear too, his cock standing erect immediately, it fluttered even straighter once you kept looking, your hands touching your breasts needily.

Hoseok stretched to the coffee table, grabbing a condom and tearing the foil open, sliding the latex on quickly and firmly.

“My cute berry, I need you to be very careful about this. You know what a safeword is?”

You shook your head. “No, Sir.”

He momentarily covered himself, needing to get all your focus on his words. “Safewords are what you use to communicate with your partner in a BDSM scene. A safeword means that you don’t like what is going on and you want to slow down or stop. We will use the traffic lights system. If you say ‘yellow’, I will slow down, if you say ‘red’, I will let go of you entirely and help you recover from whatever it was that hurt you, mentally, emotionally or physically. On the other hand, ‘green’ means that you’re okay and you are ready to get back into the scene after a ‘yellow’. If I ask you your colour, you reply with those. All clear?”

“All clear, Sir.”

He grinned proudly. “Then explain to me how it works.”

“If I want to slow down, I call ‘yellow’. If I want to stop, I call ‘red’. If I’m all good, I call ‘green’ — Sir.” You added for good measure, knowing that one too many wouldn’t hurt for sure.

“That’s my good girl.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He smiled as he looked in your eyes. He knew he would remember you forever, even if he never developed any feelings for you. You were by far the most unique woman he’d ever had under him so far.

For a second he observed your cute, frilly undies, wondering if he wanted them off.

No. 

He took his cock out of his underwear, letting the waistbands of his trousers and boxers rest on his mid-thigh.

“Wanna keep these pretty panties on.” He murmured once he laid on top of you. “Tell me if the elastic band hurts you.” He said, moving the gusset aside and testing your wetness with his fingers, spreading the slickness over your folds. “So fucking soft. Dammit. Can't wait.”

He dipped his head against your neck. “You want it?”

“Yes, Sir.” You placed your hands on the small of his back, his eyes closing as he relished in your touch.

“Beg for it.” He murmured, dragging the tip up and down your slit.

You rolled your eyes. “No, Sir.”

“You won't beg?” He asked, looking at you.

You pouted. “Why do you want me to beg?” You asked with a frown.

“I need to know you want me, my sweet berry,” he pouted back. He touched your face giving you a few kisses to convince you. “I want to hear your sweet voice saying 'please', just one more time,” he whispered, feeling merciful, especially after all the ways he had already pushed you.

Your will bent to his. “Please.”

And just like that, his tip entered your warm, tight cunt, a moan exiting his mouth. “Yes, yes, ____. Yes, baby,” he groaned, at which you responded with a mewl.

“Hobi…” You cried, squeezing around him once he bottomed out.

“Don't make me punish you,” he murmured, exhaling raspily. “You've been such a good girl. Don't get naughty.”

“Sir, please.”

He started snapping his hips out, slowly, then in again, one inch at a time, so deep and slow, over and over. “Yes, baby. Tell me how good it feels.”

“It feels too good, Sir, I'm…”

He hummed in pleasure, feeling the skin of your neck under his lips. “Too good. My berry, you're so tiny and tight.” His hips trusted in quickly and unexpectedly.

“Holy… Sir, please, again, please.” You squealed, feeling his thumb slide your panties further aside to reach your clit.

He breathed out with effort against your ear as your mouth reached his earlobe. “Fuck, not there, Berry. Not there,” he said, tugging his ear out of your mouth.

“But Sir—,” you tried objecting before his pace became irresistible. While one hand reached the crown of his hair, holding him against you, the other one met his glute, your nails sinking in his flesh. Your breath started coming in short hiccups, leading you to your climax as he outright hammered into you, his back curved away while his forehead stayed glued to your neck.

“Am I fucking you right, ____? Is it good enough for my golden girl?” He growled once he felt you tightening around him more intensely, with longer squeezes.

“It's perfect, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” you reacted readily, shaking your head as pleasure started overpowering you, trying not to hurt him.

“Cum, my sweet berry. Show me.”

The hiccups of your breathing started turning in tiny whimpers, then squeals.

You were ready to bury your head in the ground and never come back because you knew what would come next.

The squeals turned into an uncontrolled cascade of giggles. Giggles.

Hoseok picked his head up at the curious sound, only to see your palm covering your mouth in an attempt to bottle the stupid reaction.

Hoseok smiled through gritted teeth, going faster, harder, deeper now that he understood that the sweet gurgling laugh was due to your orgasm peaking.

He pinned your hand away from your face, basking in the desperate joy of your bliss before he felt himself ready to blow.

“I'm gonna slide out now,” he warned, making sure that your high had faded and your body laid limp and drained underneath him.

Your body relaxed against the carpet, your eyes closed, your lungs still working hysterically to give you back some oxygen after the ruthless fit of giggles. You whimpered once you felt him pull out.

“Look at me, honey,” he called, making you prop your upper back on your elbows as you looked down, only to be met by the sight of Hoseok slipping off the condom. “Let me cum on your cute panties, mh? Can I? I promise I'm clean, I can show you the—”

“Do it,” you replied, giving him official permission.

“Really?”

“Really— I mean, yes, Sir.”

He smirked and started pumping himself furiously, his expression frantic as his tip pressed to your mound and he came apart, his hot seed drenching the red and white cotton, an animalistic growl making his whole chest shake.

You welcomed him in your arms once he collapsed on top of you, right hand smeared in slickness. “I’m gonna call you Giggles.” He said, kissing your mole, the precise spot where he could feel your blood run underneath the skin, the hollow just under your earlobe. “It was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”

You felt your whole body blush. “It’s so stupid but I can’t stop it.”

“Don’t stop it, it’s adorable.” He sniffed at your hair, “you still smell like strawberries.”

“Must be my shampoo.”

“Fuck. So good.” He sniffed some more. “I thought it would kill me earlier, by the fridge.”

“I thought you would kill me.” You said, feeling his neck with your lips. “Your perfume might be aphrodisiac.”

“You’re too tempting.” He chuckled. “I might need another round.”

“I can’t believe you actually fucked me on your living room carpet.” You said, combing his hair as he still regained his energies.

“Aren’t you happy?” He asked, suddenly panicked.

“No, I mean. I’m… I’m really happy. I’m just… incredulous that this is happening to me.” You replied with a surprised laugh.

“Maybe I should give it another go to make sure you actually understand what’s happening.”

“Would you mind helping me understand on the dinner table?” You batted your lashes cutely and paired that with an angelic smile.

“Are you even real?” He touched your face with his clean hand, giving you an inquisitive look. “You appear, all cute and innocent and then you want me to get you all dirty and filthy?”

Your smile widened. “The other ones were a bit scared by this side of me.”

“I won’t be scared of your needs, Giggles.”

You blushed again and hid your face.

“No hiding,” he reprimanded before rolling on his side, leaving you some room to obey the orders he was about to give you. “Keep giving me those sweet giggles,” he said, tracing your belly with his fingertips before trying to tickle you.

The effect was immediate. You clenched your legs and slapped his hands away from you, the torturing sound parting from your lips in a series of childlike gurgles. “Stop! I’m gonna mess up!” You screamed, trying not to stain your dress or the carpet. “No! No! Wait! Yellow!”

At that he took his hands off you immediately, your body laying on your back breathless.

“You good, Giggles?” He asked, voice drenched with worry.

You nodded, still panting.

“Can I take your clothes off?” He questioned, watching you move your head in confirmation.

“Okay.” He looked at your dress, trying to find a zipper. “Should I—”

“Start with my underwear, please?” You asked, your breath laboured due to arousal rather than exhaustion.

He nodded and licked his lips as he slowly tugged your panties down, careful about keeping his release from touching the carpet or your legs. Once the garment unhooked from your ankles, he folded it carefully to keep the wet fabric tucked in.

“Kneel, Giggles.”

You followed his command blindly, watching as your hands slid up under your skirt and tugged your dress up, his palms meeting your ribs and dragging the fabric upwards, past your breasts, then up against your armpits and backwards to your shoulder-blades, slipping the the neckline past your head.

Dress off, he let it fall distractedly to the floor, his eyes going from your face, to your hair, to your nipples — sinfully rosy — following the line leading from your breastbone to your belly button. He kissed the first piece of skin that met his lips, someplace where his heartbeat felt like a drum, like the bass coming from an old boom box. It was so comforting in a way he barely understood.

He needed room to think. “Get on the table.” His voice was once more stern and distant, especially once you watched him grab the opened foil containing the tied up condom, then stand up and leave.

You followed his direction nonetheless, standing awkwardly by the table, watching the cake and stealing a strawberry since the orgasm had awakened a certain sweet tooth in you. You dipped the strawberry in cream and brought it to your lips, relaxing just a little after you heard the water run in the kitchen.

He was probably washing his hands.

You took you time licking up the cream, only to start chomping down on the incredibly large fruit right after. That’s when Hoseok appeared.

He was shirtless now, the garment dangling from his spindly fingers before he laid it neatly against the back of the couch. You stopped mid-bite.

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt your snack, go on, honey.” He licked his lips and gave you a steamy look before going to the table and pocketing the condoms left. “Is it good?” He asked, walking to stand right in front of you.

You felt slightly unnerved as he seemed completely indifferent to your naked body.

“Sit on the table,” he ordered

You frowned and hesitated.

At that, he let his hands hover over your hips. “Shall I help you with it?” He asked, giving you the chance to avoid his touch before laying his fingertips delicately on your skin. “Gimme a colour, Giggles.”

“Maybe yellow.” You bit your lip, insecurity getting the best of you.

He moved his hands to your face, suddenly turning comforting. “Quick tip, my pretty berry.” He caressed your face in a way that made you feel way too at ease. “If it’s a ‘maybe yellow’, then it’s a yellow. How can I help you, ____?”

Your real name made you come down to earth. You shook your head and looked away, Hoseok suddenly scared of having gone too far.

“I’m not comfortable with the way I let you control me, maybe.” Which was not entirely true. You were not comfortable with the way you craved his control after spending maybe four hours with him — including the afternoon he entered the vet studio with Mickey in his arms and a hopeless, lost look on his face.

“It’s all up to you, ____. I know it’s a cliché thing to say, but the answer is really within yourself. I can’t make you more comfortable with how you feel,” he said, still not even considering your nakedness in front of him.

In such a moment his indifference was welcome.

You looked down, your hands disappearing into your hair. Maybe this was the only night you were granted. Did you really want it to end already?

He did not touch you as you mulled over every option.

“I’m… I’m not— We’re technically strangers, I shouldn’t be trusting you like this, you shouldn’t be trusting me like this either, I mean this is all so— all so twisted and wicked and fast and—”

Hoseok was ready for reality to slap him across the face. He was ready for your regrets and you walking to your dress on the floor and cursing your messed up panties which you most definitely could not wear to go back home. He was ready for you to call what you did a mistake and say that there was no way for a woman like you to be with a man like him.

“My mind tells me I shouldn’t, but I want it so much.”

He lifted his eyes from the floor, finally finding the courage to meet yours.

“I’m sorry, that’s not true. I’m comfortable with the way you control me.” Slowly you took a step back, your ass meeting the surface of the table. “I’m just questioning what that means to me.”

He nodded. It explained a lot about your innocent, greedy approach to sex. You were exploring and you had found something you didn’t expect to even remotely consider.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head and sat on the table. “No, Sir.”

His eyebrows shot up before he regained his composure. “Colour.”

You allowed yourself to stare at his chest. He was so well-built. Harmonious. He looked like a painting. “Green. Very deep, dark green. Sir.”

He took a step closer. “Green?”

“Forest green. As green as a clover.” You felt his hand on your belly, dragging against your skin all the way to your throat, pushing you down as you lowered yourself on your elbows.

“If you feel uncomfortable emotionally or mentally speaking, you call a yellow. Please, promise me you’ll be very careful about it, Giggles. I care about your mindspace. It means everything to me.”

“I promise, Sir.”

He removed his hand from your throat and placed it against your cheek, placing a chaste kiss on your lips once he bent over you. “You’re talking to Hoseok right now, ____. Promise me you’ll keep an eye on how your mind’s doing. Promise it.”

You kissed him back, closing your eyes once his tongue caressed and molded against yours. Breathless, you parted from him. “I promise, Hobi.”

“I don’t want you to regret anything about tonight. It would break my heart, okay?”

Your eyes widened in surprise before you nodded. “I’ll take care. I promise.”

“Good girl. Now stay right there, lovely. Look what I got for you.” He found the cake, placed carefully away from your laying body. Skillfully, he dipped a strawberry in cream and brought it to your lips, dragging the tip of the fruit across them like lipstick.

He bent down and licked a fat stripe following the seam of your mouth, only to repeat the gesture once more; however, this time you let your tongue lash out and tangle up with his, the strawberry held away from you, trying not to catch it in your hair.

“Open up,” he commanded, pushing the treat past your lips, into your eager mouth. “Suck. Now.”

Your gaze became bubbly once more as you followed his lead, your cheeks sucked in at the pressure you were making with your mouth, the strawberry emerging completely clean from your mouth.

He smirked at the sigh, arching an eyebrow at the result. “You make it hard not to push my cock in your mouth.”

“Maybe that’s what I want you to do.” You raised an eyebrow right back at him, getting cocky.

“Not happening. I wanna hear that laugh again, Giggles.” Tentatively, he gave a small slap to your breast, surprising you and making you arch your back, gasping in pleasure. Your legs tightened around him, trying to clench your thighs shut at the feeling of arousal slipping out of your hole and sliding down to your behind. “And don’t you dare be a brat to me. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” Your voice was squeaky once you managed to reply.

“Did you like it, Giggles?”

The treacherous sound escaped your mouth once more as you nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Sir.”

You wondered if you would ever get tired at the reply. You doubted it very highly.

“Let’s see if you like this too,” he mused before pouring more champagne in a glass and dipping the strawberry in the wine. He fixed his stance between your legs. “Remember our safewords?”

You confirmed before he lifted the strawberry and let a droplet fall right in the middle of your chest, splashing heavy and wet on your skin. Cold too.

“I’m going to make you my dessert, my pretty strawberry. Remember? Strawberries go well with champagne, lovely.”

He let one more drop fall to your breast, your breath stopping completely at the coldness, Hoseok’s eyes amused at the sight of your nipple awakening and hardening, lengthening even. It became impossibly rosier as another drop fell.

It felt stupid not to repeat the same treatment to your other nipple, which responded twice as quickly now that arousal was abundantly flowing through every single inch of you.

The strawberry drew a neat line of champagne pearls from your belly, which you sucked in at the cold, all the way up to your neck — a line that Hoseok followed with his mouth, letting his tongue stretch out of the way whenever a droplet rolled out of place.

He let the strawberry fall into the glass, extracting the condoms from his pocket and placing them on the table before taking off the rest of his clothes. He tugged at himself a couple times, getting hard enough to wear a condom.

His hands were going to get dirty, therefore he had no other options than getting ready very quickly.

“Giggles?”

“Yes? I mean, yes, Sir?” You corrected yourself in a millisecond, not wanting to risk another delay in your pleasure.

“I’m going to get really dirty now, lovely. Would you be okay with showering here?”

You let your lashes flutter a few times before nodding.

He gave a curt nod in reply before wearing protection and letting his cock rub against your crotch. His body stretched over yours, his thumb collecting a dollop of cream and dividing it with his other thumb. You observed his movements attentively as his clean fingers laid against the side of your breasts and his thumbs landed on your nipples.

Your mouth opened silently once the sensation flowed in, his digits starting a rolling motion over your peaks, playing them in small circles that innocently reminded you of a joystick.

“Colour.”

“So, so green. Can I have a blue for mind blowing good.” You tried to pick your head up, letting it thud back down once his cock dragged perfectly against your clit, eliciting a purr from your throat and a groan from his, his sex perfectly sandwiched between your and his belly.

“Blue— I— ” He talked in small babbles and hiccups. “I get what you— ah— what you mean.” His forehead met your collarbone.

He found unspeakable strength and managed to rise from your breasts, collecting half a handful of cream spreading it over his entire palms and fingers like lotion before grabbing your breasts and kneading them, his hands dwarfing them entirely.

“Sir, please, I need your cock,” you found yourself ridiculously begging, ready to hump anything that met your core.

“Slip it in for me, Giggles.”

The moment he got inside, you didn’t even try to keep it down, riding him no matter the difficult position or the awkward angle. You let your hands scratch down his chest and grip his arms — and he allowed you.

You were getting more and more unhinged and he wanted to see every little detail, every little second, every single step that brought you to bliss and ruination, giggling like you’d never been half as ecstatic in your life. His hands slipped and groped your gentle curves, his mind growing hazier by the second.

All his control came back once he noticed your legs leaving the ground, as you scooted back just by a few inches, your calves latching behind his back before you shook your head.

“What?” He asked, bending his arms to get closer to you.

“Position. It’s…” The soles of your feet met the edge of the table, your hands securing your legs in position before you felt your hips hurt.

“Bend them to your shoulders,” he suggested, helping you fix your knees with his elbows. “Good. Can you touch yourself for me, Giggles.”

You obeyed without even replying, feeling him groan as the new position allowed him to reach deeper and rub your g-spot in the process.

That’s when the squealing started. And then there it was, pleasure. Right before you.

“Give me all the giggles, my sweet berry,” he cooed, nodding and smiling once the soft laugh started.

He let himself grow wild, his fingers sliding to your neck, gripping it gently before he led them against your chin and into your mouth, bathing your tongue in cream — or rather, what was left of it.

The other hand secured your waist, using it for leverage as he rammed into you, pushing his cock in your cunt, constricting it after the muscles remained tense after the orgasm.

This time he came inside you, still covered in latex, but inside you.

He was too fucked out to think of how you would feel without a condom, too fucked out to care that he was pressing his mouth — fuck, his entire face — against your dirty chest, getting his hair sticky with cream, his cheeks and chin and nose and eyes and forehead… His mouth welcomed the sweetness, sucking at your skin before his tongue came out to lap at the sugary mess. He was too lost to care, sinking deep and staying perfectly still as he enjoyed every second of his high inside your most intimate place.

You came to your senses just in time to watch him process the situation he was in.

“Oh, hell.” He rose from the table, standing up, looking at you, at his hands, running the back of them against his cheeks before shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter.” He settled down again, your legs wrapping around him.

“Are you okay?” You asked him, rubbing your palm against his spine.

He hummed in confirmation. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” You mussed up the hair at his nape.

He licked up your nipple, catching it with his lips and suctioning it into his mouth.

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the cuddles. From the exhaustion radiating from his body and the overall disaster you both were, you knew your night was over.

“Can I go clean up please? It’s getting chilly.” You asked, using the excuse to get some space to yourself.

He stood slowly, slipping out of you attentively. He took off the condom, completely lost in his silence, knotted it up and kept it carefully between his fingers as he slipped on his underwear. “Let me show you the bathroom.”

Once he showed you the way, you let him understand you didn’t want him to shower with you.

Feeling the scent of his body wash cover your skin was painful now. You tried to indent the name in your mind and hoped it wasn’t too expensive. Once you managed to exit the shower stall, you dabbed your body dry, realising too late that you hadn’t brought your dress with you.

You wrapped the towel around you and opened the door, walking out once you were sure you wouldn’t drip over the floor.

“Hoseok?” You called.

Once you reached the living room, you found your dress, slipping it on and realising a second too late that your panties had disappeared.

“Giggles?” Hoseok appeared from the corridor, still shirtless, with a pair of bermuda on.

“Uhm… I should… Go, I guess?” You said, staring at the floor awkwardly. “I…”

Hoseok felt fear grip him once he thought this could be the last time he would see you.

“Wait. I—” He stretched his hand toward you. “I think— Uhm, underwear. Since I messed up yours.” He rubbed his nape. “I could wash your… panties and return them to you… Next Friday?” He looked up at you with a sheepish smile. “Over fried chicken and a chill dress code?”

Your cheeks shot up as you felt yourself smile. “So this is not a one time thing?”

“Absolutely not.”

You nodded, increasingly convinced.

You gingerly wore his boxers, noticing they were relatively comfortable on you, the cotton breezy and light, definitely soft over your abused skin. “Then I’ll return these on Friday. Over fried chicken and chill dress code. And maybe my peach frilly undies?”

“It’s a deal then, Giggles.”

“Deal.”

[tossawary]

Shen Jiu’s character has been... difficult as hell to handle in “pride is not the word I’m looking for” at times. SPOILERS up to Ch28-ish. 

Because, like, he’s an asshole. He really is an asshole. He’s a terrible person and should not be allowed be near children. 

However, Shang Qinghua is also kind of an asshole, and Shang Qinghua does actually seem to like many of his characters, though he’s not really interested in helping them or risking his neck for them, with the glaring exception of Mobei-Jun. Mobei-Jun is also an asshole. SQH doesn’t seem to care at all that MBJ killed several of his fellow disciples besides fear for his own life. 

And making Shen Jiu that shitty coworker Shang Qinghua hates dealing with was funny to me. He’s a bastard and it’s very fun to write. I’m fond of characters who aren’t nice because they actually keep things interesting. (Not that nice characters can’t be interesting, I just think Cang Qiong Mountain Sect dynamics are funnier if they’re all kind of bitchy to each other.) 

Making Shang Qinghua invested in the Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu drama, then using it to explore SQH’s own relationships and character and growth, that was fun too. 

I thought that it would be super out of character for Shang Qinghua to condemn Shen Qingqiu or try to get rid of the man, especially given Shen Yuan and the fact that the System in SVSSS seems invested in keeping Shen Qingqiu around for the Eternal Abyss scene. The fact that SY couldn’t get out of the Eternal Abyss makes me think that Shang Qinghua thinks that SQQ pushing LBH into the Abyss (the betrayal that kicks off LBH being a “blackened” protagonist) is a crucial, unavoidable plot point. So Shen Qingqiu has to stay. 

But I don’t really want to make Shen Yuan be SQQ, because that’s a little too close to canon for my tastes and I want to steer clear of just redoing the plot with only a few twists. I wanted to make SY his own characters so that I could explore a really different take on the relationship between transmigrators. 

I also wanted to have SY’s arrival kick off that terrifying World Update in Part 3 for plot purposes. So, again, it looks like Original Shen Qingqiu has to stay. 

I kind of like the tragedy of Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu. I don’t see their relationship as romantic personally (I’m not against it), but the intense attachment and self-destructiveness of their relationship regardless is fun to me. They’re so explosive and miserable, which is interesting.  

So, I don’t want to make my fic about how evil Shen Jiu is when the entire fic is about Shang Qinghua becoming a better person. It would feel kind of icky to me if I pointed at Shen Jiu and went, “THAT GUY is irredeemable. I’m writing a fic about Shang Qinghua trying to be a decent person and yet also have him fall in love with Mobei-Jun, who’s definitely an asshole, but Shen Jiu is the lost cause here! Throw the whole man away!” That... didn’t seem to fit. 

(Sadly enough, I’m also leery of receiving abuse from people who think Shen Jiu “did nothing wrong”. Fandom sucks sometimes.) 

It’s Pre-Canon, we don’t actually know that SJ has done anything yet, so I have a little bit of leeway there to say he could actually improve instead of stewing deeper and deeper in his own resentment and bitterness. 

Also, making Shang Qinghua invested in watching Shen Jiu’s moral status and trying to point Shen Jiu in the direction of being less shitty was funny. 

I also LOVE “villain decay” and “people being unwillingly dragged towards morality” stories. I just love them. It’s why SJ appeals to me as a character. 

And I know some people like Shen Jiu and don’t want to see him suffer, so I thought, “Okay, I can have Shen Jiu develop from an asshole to... an asshole who can behave decently sometimes... and at least not abuse children beyond being kind of a shitty teacher during music lessons.” 

Also, I just... didn’t want to deal with child abuse in my found family fic. I didn’t want to have to tackle that, guys. SJ becomes a less shitty person so that I didn’t have to write that arc because I wasn’t interested in writing that arc. 

But I also didn’t want to make Shen Jiu nice. He’s fun to write. 

The character of Fu Qiang does have some plot stuff coming up, but also she’s kind of there to... separate Shen Jiu from the students. Fu Qiang’s plot stuff may explain SJ’s improvement a little. He did NOT decide to get better for Shang Qinghua and/or Yue Qingyuan’s sake. SQH is... kind of wildly projecting onto both Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu at times. 

 Anyway, writing SJ is a terrible balance act. I’m mostly pleased with what I’ve managed, especially since SJ isn’t the main character and I don’t want to devote too many time to him, but sometimes it feels like one of those “in order to make no one here ‘foaming at the mouth’ angry with me, I am going to make no one totally happy” situations. 

[baoshan-sanren]

So thanks to your metas I've finally read SV in like 3 days and now I'm back with a question. Let's say if hypothetically SJ and YQY talked things out and by some miracle SJ wouldn't abuse LBH, do you think that LBH would fall in love with SJ as well given that he'd always thought his Shizun was beautiful, elegant and untouchable. Do you think his feelings would grow into something more with time? I'm living for your takes on blnovels. Thanks in advance

Idk if you can start with SJ not abusing LBH, I think you would have to start with Qiu Jianluo not abusing SJ, or maybe even earlier than that, before he was sold into the Qiu household by human traffickers. To me, there’s no conceivable way where the same SJ who walks away from the carnage at Qiu's Mansion with Wu Yanzi, and later enters the Cang Qiong Mountain, would turn out to be some type of kind and benevolent shizun on par with SY. We don’t get a lot of detailed descriptions of his time with Wu Yanzi, but there is no indication that he enters Cang Qiong Mountain with any intention to give up his festering resentments, regardless of whether YQY can give him a reasonable explanation for never returning or not. 

Look, SJ found himself in the shitty situation in Qiu household because he had been trying to protect YQY. That, on its own, shows he was not yet the heartless villain that the later events would forge him into. But this particular rant of his is also very telling:  

“Of course it’s all your fault! I blame you. We weren’t close with those newcomers, so what if we were stepped on a little? Why did you have to play hero! Are you afraid that people like us with such lowly lives can’t bear it?! If you hadn’t played hero, why would I have helped you? If I hadn’t helped you, how would I have provoked him, and how would that Qiu guy have ended up buying me?! If he hadn’t bought me, how would I have become like this?! Every two days I get beat up a little bit and every three days I get beat up a lot━he plays me like I’m a dog!”

SJ is very young here, but the difference between him and YQY is starkly obvious. MXTX makes use of this dynamic, this clash of personalities, in both SVSSS, MDZS, and TGCF. “Why did you have to play the hero” should be familiar line to readers of MDZS too, and despite some fan opinions, it’s just not... what the so called “good guy” in the narrative would think, let alone say out loud. (Btw, TGCF is the only one of MXTX’s novels in which we see this type of character actually grow and change with time). Right off the bat, we see this very young SJ as someone who only values (and is willing to protect) those of immediate importance to himself, while YQY, as the typical “hero” of the narrative, tries to protect everyone and ends up harming the person he cares about in the process. You will find these two personality types thrust in these types of situations in 90% of danmei (and wuxia/xianxia) stories for a reason. You are supposed to know that YQY will end the tortured hero and SJ will end the blackened villain, the only differences being other related plot lines and their eventual downfall/redemption. (Or in MDZS’s case, absolute stagnation, which flies in the face of typical development for someone like SJ and apparently, confuses a lot of readers as well).

The second part I think is important to mention about that little rant up there is that SJ is already a person who takes no responsibility for his actions. YQY had “acted the hero” so SJ was forced to act as well, therefore his action is YQY’s fault. He is very young at this point, so no one expects him to be a paradigm of magnanimity, but at the same time, he never grows and matures out of this way of thinking. So SJ who enters Cang Qiong Mountain is already proficient at holding resentments and shifting all the blame for his misfortunes to others. At that point, even if YQY had explained how his haste to cultivate quickly had resulted in a qi deviation and the subsequent confinement, there is no indication that SJ would have found him any less guilty for failing to return in a timely manner. (Don't forget that one of the last admonishments SJ gives to YQY before they part is to stop being so brash. YQY doesn’t listen, which results in qi deviation, which results in SJ being stuck in Qiu household for years. It’s unlikely that SJ would find YQY blameless).

However, if you go back further than all the misery and abuse SJ suffered at the hands of Qiu Jianluo and change things (perhaps the human traffickers sell him into a different, better household, etc) then his path would probably diverge too drastically to continue onto the trajectory towards the Cang Qiong Mountain. 

Basically, I see two paths where SJ does not end up the exact heartless scum villain he is in PIDW:

SJ escapes with YQY and they enter Cang Qiong Mountain together. From their earlier relationship, we can infer that SJ is prone to guilt-tripping YQY for his decisions, and seeing himself as the wronged party whenever the situation doesn’t go his way. Would YQY still end up the Sect Leader with SJ by his side? If YQY had never qi deviated and SJ had never started his cultivation so late, would there be a noticeable difference in their skills and strengths? If SJ was more powerful, would YQY not willingly cede the Sect Leader position? And if he didn’t do so, would SJ hold resentment for it? Would the same level of resentment between SJ and LQG still exist? 

YQY manages to go back for SJ before the slaughter at the Qiu Mansion. At that point, SJ had been suffering abuse by Qiu Jianluo for years. Would he blame YQY for not coming for him sooner? For the fact that YQY’s tardiness meant he started cultivating late and may never catch up? If SJ’s resentment is the same and YQY’s guilt is the same, would their relationship be any better? People seem to think that SJ would have held so much gratitude for YQY’s (attempted or otherwise) return that he would wipe the slate clean between them, but this is the same person who had blamed YQY’s heroics for his own situation in the first place. Does that seem like the kind of person who would just... feel so much gratitude to let everything else go? 

And since only that SJ, the one who had lived with Qiu Jianluo’s abuse, who had slaughtered all of Qiu Manor and was further twisted and warped by Wu Yanzi, since that SJ took LBH on as a disciple out of jealousy and resentment and spite, wouldn’t it make more sense that a less villainous SJ would not give LBH a second glance? Rather than being a better shizun, is it not more fitting that he would have allowed LBH to go where he is likely to have gone without SJ’s interference, which is Bai Zhan Peak? 

To me, any possible scenario where SJ (at the moment he is watching potential disciples digging holes) happens to be a better person, is a scenario in which LBH does not become his disciple. 

So no, I don’t see any possible scenario in which LBH falls in love with SJ. I believe that SJ was meant to be seen as flawed from the very beginning, from the moment he had blamed YQY for “playing the hero,” and I can’t imagine any twist of circumstances that would make him similar to the type of person (SY) that LBH would fall in love with. 

[eirikrjs]

what do you think is the best smt game to start with? not necessarily the highest quality but the one that gives you the best introduction to the franchise

I was just lamenting the other day that Shin Megami Tensei 1 should be the best place to start because it being the progenitor means everything iterates off of it and therefore it provides a great foundation for anyone new. However, Atlus is stupid and hasn’t modernized the game and made it available on current platforms. Every other game released in English is of course perfectly playable to anyone but each has some caveats that prevent them from being fully starter friendly. Let’s check off the available main series games: 

Nocturne: We missed out on the context SMT1 and SMT2 provided to show that Nocturne was intentionally trying to shake up the formula. Rewards completion of sloppily-conceived but fun and substantial re-release edition content over main themes of the OG release (which we also never got). This “edgy” anti-theming then became the context for SMT for long after. For these reasons I really think Nocturne is a bad place to start, but it was my own start, so...

Strange Journey: The DS version might be the best way released in English to introduce yourself to SMT. A straightforward narrative that teaches you the basics of SMT conflict. Proves that Tokyo doesn't actually matter. However, it’s a dungeon crawler and one that is sadistic at times so you may already need to like that kind of game to enjoy it.

Shin Megami Tensei IV: A great environment and a scenario with lots of potential squandered by poor writing, the Achilles’ heel of modern RPGs. New demon art is not just bad, it is expressly anti-SMT and generic. The solid mechanics make it a commonly-seen rec for starters. It is a fun game and may be the best rec after SJ if you don’t think too hard about the narrative or consider what you see to be definitive.

Shin Megami Tensei IV Apocalypse: Its writing makes SMT4′s look good. Was intended to appeal to a slightly younger demographic of early teens and it shows. Its refined SMT4 gameplay might be the best in the series. If you can skip all the dialogue and make up your own story based on what little you see, it becomes an excellent SMT simulator.

Strange Journey Redux: It has the Nocturne problem of largely bad and poorly written re-release material intruding on and incentivizing itself over the original. Gameplay and dungeon navigation have been improved. I haven’t personally played this version but my heart still says to go for the original over this.

Then the spinoff games, which are sometimes recommended to newcomers:

Devil Survivor 1/Overclocked: This one (especially the Overclocked re-release) is a darling in some circles. At best it does have above-average writing (and a scenario that remixes SMT1) but there’s just too much of it that doesn’t advance the plot or characters. While it has grid-based map combat like any brand of Tactics game, it is rarely strategic as enemies usually take the battle to you. These games also feature the amateurish character art of Suzuhito Yasuda, a man so horny he seemingly draws only to please himself and I really think its low quality takes something away from the game. Very mixed on the game as a whole.

Devil Survivor 2/Record Breaker: Not a good starter, especially compared to the first game. Writing is atrocious and full of anime cliches. Has a great demon roster is the best I can say about it.

Digital Devil Saga 1/2: Great story and characters in this rare-for-the-series directly continuous narrative, but both games suffer from a high encounter rate (which can be lowered eventually), large costs for essential skill upgrades that encourage grinding, and loooong dungeons in between story beats. Uses Nocturne’s Press Turn system so the gameplay is solid. Its linear story and character focus completely eschew the series’ alignments and demon mechanics so it’s not a great way to learn about SMT itself. Honestly, you might be better off waiting for an inevitable DDS duology remaster.

Raidou Kuzunoha (Soulless Army): The first Raidou game is a mediocre action RPG set on prerendered backgrounds that always do their best to make the combat seem even less fluid. This is the only Raidou game with anything approaching an interesting story..., well, maybe the scenario is more interesting than the story itself. Again, a bad starter because the most interesting narrative bits are for veteran players and for the half-baked combat.

Raidou Kuzunoha (King Abbadon): The action combat is much improved and slightly more dynamic enough to be passable. Good thing because the story is somehow completely unappealing, from most angles. The entire appeal of the Raidou games seems to be in proportion to how cool you think the main character design is. I personally don’t get it.

Soul Hackers: A game that succeeds at all the basics: presentation, narrative, gameplay. Like SJ, this is a spinoff of the old mold and is a dungeon crawler (albeit one that’s far simpler) and, amazingly, the 3DS version features gameplay improvements and toggle-able features (some of which are basically in-game cheats) without modern story additions. Battles are extremely basic turn-based affairs, for better or worse. Has an excellent ‘90s cyberpunk atmosphere, the characters aren’t overwritten for better or worse, and the plot has plenty of what can be called “SMT moments.” If you can move past the lack of modern niceties and polish, it’s a great little game.

I really do care a lot about writing and presentation, especially internal consistency for the former and coordination for the latter. For too many of these games I’ve tapped out of what I’m seeing on the screen and default to the gameplay to keep me interested until the end. Life is too short for bad art.

But if you’re totally new, here’s a recommended starting order of the games available to easily purchase digitally/emulate:

Strange Journey (DS) or Shin Megami Tensei IV

SMT: Nocturne (HD coming in May)

Soul Hackers

Strange Journey is a good teacher of what the series is about but if it’s not to your liking, Shin Megami Tensei IV is the acceptable substitute teacher that bungled the lesson plan but at least makes attempts to sound informed, something most others don’t do. Nocturne is great but don’t make it your first. Have fun!

[megalony]

Kiss the girl- Part 2

This is the second part of my Noah Flynn series from The Kissing Booth Netflix movie, I hope you will all like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: (Y/n) and Lee are best friends but Lee warns his brother away from her, she’s been through a lot and her mental health is suffering. Lee thinks Noah is only going to make (Y/n) worse after what she has suffered, but Noah can’t stay away from her and (Y/n) feels drawn to him.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Lee, it's fine, trust me. It was just a kiss and it wasn't as if he knew it was gonna be me walking out there." (Y/n) linked her arm through Lee's as they slowly made their way into the sea of students dispersing out to the car park ready to go home.

(Y/n) knew her best friend was trying to sound nonchalant and as if everything was okay about the kiss but she could see that inside he was fuming. He was angry his brother had gone and kissed his best friend, in Lee's mind Noah could have done something different, he could have made some excuse or taken (Y/n) back behind the curtain. He could have done something to stop it from happening, especially when he knew how much being in the booth would have made (Y/n) anxious.

Lee just wanted to make sure that it didn't embarrass or make (Y/n) feel uneasy, he knew she used to have a crush on Noah to have him be her first kiss can't be easy.

"You sure? I mean, I told him to stay away because you're not interested-"

"Stop blabbering, just forget about it okay, it's over and done with." (Y/n) knew she would eat her words soon enough because she wasn't telling Lee the truth. It wasn't over and done with because the kiss meant something and both she and Noah knew it. But Lee was persistent and he wanted Noah to stay as far away from (Y/n) as possible, if she told Lee that the kiss meant something and that she didn't want Noah to stay away from  her it was only going to to cause arguments that none of them wanted to deal with. It was better to keep Lee ignorant and in the dark for now.

"Right, are we heading home?" Lee started to guide them both over to his car parked over to the left but (Y/n) lightly shook her head causing Lee to pause in his stride to his car. "Do you want a lift somewhere else?"

"I think I'm gonna take a walk into town."

"You sure? Cause I can drive you there or we can go to the arcades if you want some company." Lee's lopsided smile made (Y/n)'s heart drop to her stomach. Here he was trying his best to help her and offer support and companionship so she didn't have to be alone and she was going to lie to him and refuse his help.

Lee had been her strength when she didn't have any, he was her guiding light when she got lost and he was there through everything when he didn't have to be. (Y/n) would never be able to thank Lee enough for everything he did and continued to do for her so lying to him was very hard and it was something (Y/n) had never done before. But if she wanted to be with Noah, lying to Lee was something she was going to have to do a lot more often.

"I'm sure, I want to be out on my own for a while. I'll call you later, promise." (Y/n) nodded reassuringly at Lee so he didn't start to panic or think something was wrong because nothing was wrong.

There was hesitation in Lee's eyes and he could feel his heart hammering against his ribs because he didn't want to be that overbearing friend that didn't trust (Y/n) or always assumed the worst or assumed that she wasn't okay or able to be on her own. But he couldn't help but panic about her when he knew that she didn't want to be on her own after Andrew died, (Y/n) had always either been home with her dad or round at Lee's place because being on her own left her with her demons. She let her thoughts get the better of her when she was on her own and it allowed her to panic freely without control.

But Lee had to trust her.

He had to trust that (Y/n) knew what she wanted to do and knew how to take care of herself and when to let people help her if things got too much. When she had her breakdown last year she let people help her willingly because she didn't want to suffer. If anything like that were to happen again he knew she would ask or let help be given to her.

"Alright, just don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"So, basically do everything then." (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders with a playful grin when Lee's jaw dropped and his head started to shake with a small laugh leaving his lips. He pointed at her warningly before he headed to his car and (Y/n) turned on her heels to start walking down the path away from school.

She couldn't meet Noah on school grounds because people would see and if Lee saw or found out all Hell would then break loose. (Y/n) made her way out of school grounds and started to round the corner near the playing field before Noah's dark silver car rolled up beside her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Lee thinks I'm going to hurt you." The small smile that Noah wore on his face was one that didn't hide the concern he held in his eyes when he looked at her.

"Lee thinks that about everyone." (Y/n) slowly dragged her fingers through the sand, tilting her head down so she could watch the grains of sand fall through her fingers rather than look at the expression on Noah's face as he sat beside her on the beach. There was something so calming about the feeling of the sand falling through her fingers, it was like (Y/n) could imagine that the sand was her worries and insecurities and she was letting them slip away and disappear.

"Do you think he's right?"

"I mean, everyone is bound to hurt you at one point or another, whether it's on purpose or not. You might hurt me, Lee might hurt me, I could hurt either or both of you. If someone is close enough to hurt you it means they're special."

(Y/n) knew everyone hurt someone at some point in their lives, she would end up hurting Lee and so would Noah if they decided to make a relationship out of this behind his back. Lee could always do something that would hurt (Y/n) and so could Noah, but if they did something that really got to her or cut to her core then it meant they were close enough to her to hurt her. It meant they were special, and if (Y/n) tried to stay away from everyone she thought would hurt her then she would never have anyone close to her.

"My mum hurt me when she died, she was special to me." (Y/n) stopped running her fingers through the sand when she felt Noah's hand resting over her own.

"I want to be special to you, (Y/n), but I don't want to hurt you."

"I don't think you could hurt me, Noah Flynn."

There was something sad in (Y/n)'s eyes that made Noah feel his heart dropping to his stomach like a stone. It was as if (Y/n) thought he couldn't hurt her because she had been hurt too badly already, like she was a china doll that had already been dropped and smashed and couldn't be broken into any further pieces. Her mum had died and shattered part of her and then Andrew passed away and broke what little there was of her left. If Noah did hurt her (Y/n) knew it would barely scratch the surface and that in turn, hurt him.

"I hope not, you're far too special to risk breaking, (Y/n). But if we're going to do this, we can't tell Lee which means, not telling anyone else either."

"I know Lee's protective but you really think he'll be this upset?" Part of (Y/n) wanted to tell Lee because keeping secrets from her best friend was tiring, just lying to him today was more than (Y/n) wanted to handle. She couldn't imagine how she was going to feel when she had to start properly lying to him about going out and being with Noah.

She knew Lee would be angry with them for wanting to get into a relationship but she didn't know if it was worth all the sneaking about.

"(Y/n)... when we were younger I promised Lee I wouldn't get close to you, he wanted something, a friend, that was just his. Then I promised him I wouldn't go near you or try anything with you because he thinks I'm going to break you. If we tell him Lee will be the one to break."

"Okay, Lee doesn't know. You know he's just looking out for me when he says he thinks you'll break me, don't you? He doesn't think anything bad of you, he thinks he has to protect me from myself."

(Y/n) leaned her head forward so she could rest her cheek on Noah's shoulder before she reached across and took a chip from the bag resting on his lap. She hadn't eaten lunch at school but she was starting to get a bit hungrier now, a reason she knew Noah bought the chips and put them so close to her.

She wanted Noah to know that Lee didn't think badly of him, despite the fights and the arguments he always got into, Lee didn't think his brother was a bad person or a brute or someone who was dangerous. He thought it was his job to keep (Y/n) safe and sane and calm and he thought that if Noah got involved it would break the foundations that had taken so long to repair. It was more that he thought Noah would unsettle everything around (Y/n) rather than hurt her break her.

"I know my brother acts more of a keeper around you than a friend at times, he's hiding you away like you're allergic to the sun. He doesn't have to worry about protecting you all the time, you don't need protecting, especially not from me."

"That's not fair." (Y/n) took another chip from the bag and popped it into her mouth before she tilted her head up to look at Noah. There was a small, calming smile on her lips showing Noah she wasn't about to get angry or start a fight. "Lee saw me at my worst, Noah, he doesn't want to see me like that again, he's just trying to help. I wouldn't have got through last year without him."

"I guess it just bugs me sometimes, Lee warns me your fragile like I'm gonna storm in and crush you or something... I saw you that night, you know?"

"When?"

"I was driving mum to town when your dad called, about Andrew. We turned the car around, she called Lee and we headed over to your place... I stood in the doorway to your house, watched your dad struggle to get you downstairs and I wanted so badly to just take you in my arms and hold you. But then Lee appeared and the moment you saw him, it was like you knew everything would be okay. You let him take you downstairs and sit you down, you let him hold you and cry with you and I thought... why can't I do that? Why can't I help you or help someone like Lee?"

That scene was something Noah replayed over and over in his mind when he found himself lost or confused or stuck in a bad place.

He remembered that day like it was happening in front of him right now. Noah remembered his mother hitting him repeatedly to get him to take the next turning and go to (Y/n)'s house rather than drive her into town. He remembered seeing his mother sobbing for the first time as she called Lee and said something had happened to Andrew.

Noah drove all the way to (Y/n)'s house and stumbled up the path with his mother but when he got one foot inside the house he felt like he had stepped into another dimension. Noah saw (Y/n) screaming at the top of her lungs, he saw her dad fighting to get her to stop trying to go back to Andrew's body. They were almost falling down the stairs, one trying to go down and the other trying to go back up. And in that moment, the only thing Noah wanted to do was run up those stairs and pick (Y/n) up, he wanted to take her in his arms and carry her somewhere safe.

He wanted to hold her and tell her he was there and it was okay, she could scream and cry all she liked and he would just sit and hold her through it all. He wanted her to let out the storm raging inside of her and be able to say that he was the one who would help her. Noah had never helped someone like that before, the most he had done was help an elderly man in the shop. He wanted to do more than that.

He wanted to know that he could do more than just have flings with girls and play sports or have good grades. He wanted to be a good person and help in a way that counts.

But Noah only got to stare at (Y/n) in distress before his little brother came in like a force of nature and changed the atmosphere in the house. Lee bypassed his mother and his elder brother and made a beeline for (Y/n) when he spotted her. The hazel floppy-haired boy ran up those stairs like he was running a marathon and once he got to (Y/n), Noah saw it.

Noah saw the change. (Y/n) had been in so much distress but once Lee was there, that was it. She wrapped her arms around him and let him take her weight, (Y/n) let Lee effortlessly guide her down those stairs, both of them sobbing messes. He took her to the sofa and sat her down and held her like he was glue holding broken pieces together to fix her. Lee let her sob into his neck, he let her scream and hit him and fling her limbs all over the place but he calmed her down without saying one word.

Lee never said anything for the hour that he sat and held (Y/n) but it worked, just his presence calmed her down from a state that mimicked psychosis. Noah had never been jealous of anyone before but in that moment, he had been green-eyed with jealously of the ability his little brother possessed to help someone- to help (Y/n) like that.

"Lee didn't know what he was doing but he did something right... I hurt him Noah. He talked me down from a ledge, he stopped me from doing a lot of stupid shit and he sat there and let me cry without any answers for me, there isn't any manual on how to help someone like that, Lee did that all blindfolded. But Noah Flynn is different, he didn't hold me when I screamed, he ran in and defended me at school when someone started talking about Andrew or asking why I was a prude. You don't have to hold me when I cry in order to help me Noah."

(Y/n) knew over the past year she had pushed Lee to his limits without meaning or intending to do so. When she felt like jumping off the ledge and doing something rash Lee sat calmly and patiently and talked her down and brought her back to safety. When Andrew died Lee held her and calmed her down and cried with her. But Lee did all of that without a manual, he didn't know what he was doing or if what he was doing would help. That was what made him so special to (Y/n).

With Noah it was different but in a good sense. He didn't hold (Y/n) when she was in distress or watch her cry, he protected her from everyone else whereas Lee protected her from herself. Lee made sure she didn't do anything stupid and when (Y/n) first went back to school someone started asking about Andrew, where he was, why he wasn't there and they were trying to rile (Y/n) up because news spread fast when he died. Noah didn't think twice before he barged in and tackled the guy down to the ground.

When someone else tried to ask (Y/n) on a date and then said she was a prude, a stuck up fly on the wall who didn't hardly speak, Noah broke his nose and gave him a black eye for his trouble and almost got himself suspended in the process.

"Well whatever happens, I'm always gonna be here for you." Noah leaned his head down to steal a kiss from her lips before he took one of the chips and placed it between his teeth. He turned his head in her direction, smiling when she kissed him and bit down, eating half the chip resting between his teeth.

Noah wasn't sure if (Y/n) knew Lee had told him about her not eating, but right now, she seemed to be fine with him. Maybe he was having a good effect on her after all.