#i love LOVE what they did with this new interpretation

[joonjuul]

hii, are u comfortable with writing teacher x student trope?

chalk dust. jjk

pairing: professor!jk x delinquent!reader

wc: 6.2k

warnings: englishteacher!jk, softdom!jk, strict!jk, badgirl!reader, obsessive!reader, reader is a crazy tease but goes soft for jk, reader is of age, dorm sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up), head pushing, light fingering (f receiving), pet names, creampie, this is absolute filth

a/n: tysm anon for requesting !! not only am i comfortable, but i lowkey love this trope and can feel a series blossoming… chalk dust jk™ has a nice ring to it no?

╋━

professor jeon was a poised man.  he was intricate, careful, took pride in his control and restraint.  he was a man who showed no weakness — and you were a girl who had nothing to lose.

it was your first semester at your new college prior to transferring, due to let’s say… academic differences.  you were never the perfect student, far from it.  you skipped class, kicked cigarette butts out your dormitory window, and scrawled half-assed answers on nearly all your assignments.  all but your english assignments at least.  

english was always different to you though, more specifically; poetry.  you didn’t always try, but the moment your pen hit the paper, you found yourself peeling open like an onion, exposing sides to yourself you never even knew were there.  and the topics that fell from your ink were never those that were comfortable for a casual reader — they were deep, intimate, and often times inappropriate for even a college school setting… especially when you wrote about him.

you had never been attracted to a teacher before, so it caught you off guard the way you would purposefully linger after class was over just to breathe in his air a little longer.  but something about him was so compelling to you, especially the thought of making him lose control, break the rules just for once, just long enough for him to take you on his desk and leave ink stains on your skirt.

“what did you think, miss y/l/n?” his words cut you out of your daydream that isn’t entirely innocent as you realize you had been drifting longer than anticipated.  he looked too good today… too good for you to stay focused.

“i’m sorry?” you blink up at him slowly.  you should feel embarrassed that you were caught red handed, anyone else would’ve been, but not you.

“what do you think wilde meant when he wrote, ‘the only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.’” his calloused hands with traces of chalk etch the sides of the book as his eyes thin out in front of you.  he was the greatest test of all, a test of how far you could truly go to get something you want.

“are you asking for a literary analysis, sir?” the way you speak isn’t particularly respectful, but it’s laced with something else, something only professor jeon is able to catch on to, as most of the other students in your incredibly small class were paying attention elsewhere.

“that is the expectation, yes.”

“expectation… right.” you huff as you lean back in your chair, your voice coming out in a way that’s confident… too knowing.  “well it’s just an excuse, isn’t it?  wilde isn’t talking about temptation as a fleeting thing, he’s saying that once the thought exists, once you’ve imagined it… you’re already lost.  the real choice left is whether you act on it or let it fester.”

the class is still, no one seeming to notice the change in atmosphere, the subtle weight of your words, except professor jeon.  his jaw tenses slightly as his eyes narrow in your direction, reading between the lines of your words, the distinct way you looked at him while speaking, the smirk threatening to tug at your lips.

“that’s quite the interpretation.”

“maybe, but it’s the truth.  wilde knew that resisting something only gives it more power.  because the moment you tell yourself you shouldn’t think about something… it’s already all you can think about.” your head subconsciously cocks to the side as your smirk now turns into a devious smile.  your eyes rake his body language carefully as you admire the way he lets out a slow exhale at your words, his eyes never leaving yours.  he should move on, call on someone else, change the topic at least, but for a fraction of a second, he forgets how to breathe.

“moving on.” he turns away from you, his voice sharp as his attention falls onto the chalk board behind him, outlining a different subject that he deems more pressing than entertaining your obviously suspicious behavior.

but you, your work here is done, as you’ve already planted the seed.  in fact, you had been planting seeds for quite some time now, and the biggest one was going to come to fruition in about 21 minutes.  your eyes flick over to the clock on the wall, the smallest hand ticking painfully slow as you recall the previous night.  your hands fighting for breath as you wrote vigorously in your 3-ring notebook.  you purposely bought a red one so it would easier garner his attention, but what would really catch his eye were the words written throughout the pages.

because see, it wasn’t just a normal red notebook, it was a confession — of boredom, of frustration, of a sharp, all-consuming fascination with him.  your words were far from innocent, phrases and long run-on sentences describing the way he runs a finger over his mouth when he’s thinking, or the way his voice shifts when he’s discussing mature themes.  you wonder, in writing, what it would take to make him snap.  and you’re ready to plant it right where he can see, where his all too curious mind will force him to keep reading, even when he knows it’s wrong.

you feel your breath hitch in your throat as the bell rings abruptly, ripping you from your devious daydream of what only felt like a couple minutes.  you struggle to hide the growing smirk on your face as you hurriedly throw everything in your bag, everything except one simple red notebook, and quickly rush out the door.

normally you’d take your time, enjoy the scenery and take one final smell of the chalk infested air before retreating his classroom for the day, but not this time.  you couldn’t risk premature exposure, everything had to go according to plan, and you had a slight feeling it already was.

professor jeon’s eyes flick across the room before realizing how quickly it had emptied.  normally there were a few stragglers, at least just you, but today there was nothing.

he lets out a long sigh as he turns back to the chalkboard, bringing an eraser up to his already forgotten lecture and wiping it clean, ready for whatever tomorrow may bring.  his mind danced between a new topic within wilde’s book, and something slightly more intense — you.

you were always a question mark in his mind, a level of confusion he never quite knew how to decipher.  you were incredibly smart, and anyone with a brain could see that, but you weren’t nearly as dedicated as you could be.  you didn’t participate in any extracurricular activities that would distract you from your school work, nor did you get involved in any on-campus drama.  yet you were still completely, and purposefully disobedient.  it was almost as if you couldn’t care less about your education, nevermind the topics you always found a way to bring up in class.  it was almost as if you were trying to crawl under his skin, infest his mind with your out of control behavior.  it was nearly intolerable.

he turned away from the board and his eyes quickly fell on a notebook, a red one.  he felt a brow quirk on his face subconsciously and before he knew it he was already taking leaping strides towards your desk.

you always submitted such incredible work.  whether it could be considered inappropriate, or slightly out of range of what you had been discussing in class, it always found a way to linger in his mind, leave him questioning even his own class regimen.

before he was able to decide whether or not reading what could’ve been your personal work was an appropriate thing to do, he was already turning the pages to reveal your most intense inner thoughts.

his eyes widen as he finally realizes — the true extent to all your subtle innuendos, every time your eyes lingered on his longer during class, the way you would let out a gentle exhale of relief as he would call your name… it was all starting to make sense.

and not only that, but they were dated.  they weren’t simple mindless phrases or sexual references sprawled across the paper with no direction.  they were organized, almost like a collection of memories, of fleeting thoughts that you wanted to last longer.

september 14

Maybe he thinks restraint is noble. That if he denies it long enough, it will dissolve into nothing. But that’s the thing about hunger, isn’t it? It doesn’t go away. It just waits.

september 29

I started a new habit today—writing things just for him. Slipping them between the lines of my essays, curling them into the margins of books I know he’ll flip through. I wonder if, when he reads them, he feels it. That sharp, electric jolt of knowing something he shouldn’t.

October 25th

Tonight, I had a thought I shouldn’t have.

I imagined the moment—the exact moment—when he gives in. The silence before it. The way his breath would hitch, the way he’d close his eyes just for a second too long. The way his hands, always so careful, would finally stop hesitating.

he feels his blood thicken as he continues to read, the words rambling through his mind anxiously as if they’d have no ending.  his heart rate quickens, his hands gripping the notebook tighter as he flips through the pages at lightening speed, barely slow enough to properly digest the gravity of your writing — until he lands on the final page.

his mind stutters as he arrives at the final entry, your handwriting much clearer now and he can almost hear your voice speaking it with perfect confidence and dictation.

October 31st

I wasn’t going to write this down. I wasn’t going to let it exist anywhere but inside my head, but I need to let it out.

I want him.  Not in a way I should.

I want him in a way that sits heavy in my chest, in a way that makes it hard to breathe when he’s too close. In a way that keeps me up at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering what it would take to make him finally snap.

And I wonder—if I stepped too close, if I said something I shouldn’t, if I asked—would he?

I think I want to find out.

he feels a lump crawl at his throat as his eyes fall to the bottom of the page, meeting your perfect handwriting in a lighter, much smaller format.

If you’re reading this, then I already won.

after a few painfully long moments, he finally lets out the gasp of air he had been holding in the moment his finger tips met the notebook.  and for a second, just a second, he imagines it too — the feeling of losing control.  it’s just enough to scare him into putting your notebook back down, but not enough to shake away the tugging in his loins and the burning in his chest.

he finds himself pacing, more than he’s probably ever done before.  his feet driving him in circles with his hands in his air as he realizes what he’s done, the situation he’s put himself in.  someone who’s normally so controlled, prepared for nearly any situation, is suddenly doubting his lack of weakness.  and for just a moment, he’s afraid.

he needs to put an end to this.

—

you’re unable to hide your smile of premature victory knowing there’s no way he was able to keep his curious paws off your notebook.  your feet confidently carry you through the hallways, your mind littered with thoughts of how he’d try to tell you it’s wrong, try to deny how your words made him feel, maybe he’d even threaten to turn you in, but it was all apart of your plan.

see, confidence is key here.  whether or not he ever had any feelings for you, or any sexual desires towards you didn’t matter, because you had already planted the seeds.  so even if he felt like all your comments were merely innocent flirtations in the past, they gave him brief visions of what could be, maybe even more, and that guilt alone is enough to drive him to think about you further, especially after reading your notebook.

you feel your stomach tense as you approach his door, it wasn’t time for class yet and you knew he had a free period, so you timed your walk across campus to perfectly align so he’d be reminded of your presence again today, even though you knew he couldn’t think of anything else.

your breath hitches momentarily as he emerges from his door, nearly cutting you off in your tracks.  his eyes narrow in on yours as he signals for you to enter his classroom.

you hide your victory smile quickly before following him into his classroom, watching as he approaches his desk, the red notebook sitting perfectly centered between his ungraded papers, almost as if you were his first priority.

the air was thick with tension, and you were loving every second of it.

“close the door.” his voice is rough, almost sleepless but you don’t question it, only following his orders and taking deliberate steps forward until there’s only the desk between you.

“tell me what this is.” he wraps a cold calloused hand around the rings of the notebook, his eyes narrowing in on yours.

“you already know.” his jaw tenses at your words, and his eyes flicker down to the notebook, memories flashing through his mind of your sinful words.

“you think this is a game?”

“isn’t it?” his gaze lands back on yours, sharp, unreadable — but there’s something lying beneath the surface, almost close enough for you to touch.

“you don’t understand what you’re doing.”

“that’s a lie.”

“enough.” he warns, his grip on the notebook tightening.

“why?  are you afraid?” the question lands like a blow.  he inhales sharply, but he doesn’t answer, and that’s all the confirmation you need.  you take a slow step forward, your hands falling onto the desk as you tilt your head down at him.

“you read every word, didn’t you?”

“you crossed a line.” his voice is strained, almost as if he’s holding back.

“did i?  or did i just say what you wouldn’t?” your voice drops down softly, just above a whisper as you’re unable to hide the smirk tugging at your lips, but his expression quickly changes, something in him snaps.  

“this ends now.” his voice is firm as his grip tightens further on the notebook, his other hand pointing directly at you.

“sounds like you’re convincing yourself more than you’re convincing me.” your smirk turns into a smile as you watch his knuckles turn white, his silence deafening as he stares up at you coldly.

you lean off the desk carefully before turning back towards the door, walking away without any permission to leave.  your hand curls around the doorknob as you turn your head to catch his final reaction, one of confusion and a breaking resolve.

“you can keep the notebook, professor jeon.  i’ll just start a new one.” you smile at him before turning away completely, your feet carrying you to your next class in strides instead of steps.

this was going to be easier than you thought.

but for him, it was the most difficult.

his eyes stare at the door, wide and in shock as he feels the heavy air, still full of your presence glide over his skin, leaving goosebumps in its place.

he exhales sharply, his hand releasing the notebook like it’s something filthy, but he doesn’t walk away, he can’t.  his hands move before he can stop them, the notebook falling open and mindlessly flipping to the page he already knows is there — your confession.

“I want him.”

his breath catches in his throat as the words stare back at him, bold and unforgiving.

“Not in a way I should.”

“In a way that keeps me up at night, staring at the ceiling.”

“Wondering what it would take to make him finally snap.”

“And I wonder—if I stepped too close, if I said something I shouldn’t, if I asked—would he?”

“I think I want to find out.”

he quickly slams the notebook shut, his heart drumming restlessly against his chest as his jaw locks so tightly into place that it nearly aches.  he feels something strange brew inside him, the unbearable pull of something he refuses to name.

he should go to the principal, he should call your parents, he should put an end to this.  but instead, he presses his hands against the desk as he leans forward, his breathing unsteady as he allows his eyes to close.  and for one brief, damning second — he imagines it.  the moment you wrote about.  the moment you break.

he sees it too clearly, feels the heat of it curling in his stomach, the inevitability of it tightening within his throat.  but it isn’t disgust that makes his breath hitch, nor guilt that makes his fingers tremble, but the fleeting image in his mind of his hand wrapped gracefully around your throat as you breathlessly moan out his name.

he swears under his breath, low and sharp before shoving the notebook into a drawer and slamming it into the desk.

but it’s too late now, he can’t unread your words, and he can’t stop the temptation now that it’s started.

—

the night was colder than normal, the gentle sound of rain pattering against your window as your eyes mindlessly scan the pages of the book you thought you were once reading.  your mind stutters in its daydream at the sound of a knock at your door.  

you freeze for a moment.  no one comes here this late.

you feel your feet carry you out of bed as you slowly approach the door, the hardwood floors cold against your bare feet as your fingers curl around the doorknob, your mind going blank as you see him there.

his tie is gone, his shirt which is usually pristine is now rumpled like he’s been running his hands through his hair, through the fabric, like he’s spent hours fighting himself before landing here.

and now he’s standing at your door.  soaking wet.

you lean against the doorframe, allowing your head to tilt to the side just enough to tease him.

“you shouldn’t be here, professor jeon.”

he swallows, his hands curling into tight fists at his sides.

“i know.”

you consider teasing him further, maybe even making him feel a little guilty knowing it’ll only intensify his feelings further, but you decide not to, knowing it’ll only driving him crazier, only stepping back just enough to allow the door to swing open further — an invitation.

his eyes flicker across yours for a moment as he hesitates.  every expression questioning whether or not he should, or if he even dares.  but he finally let’s go, taking a step inside as the door closes behind him, almost like a surrender.

the air is thick, nearly electric as he stands still, something predatory in your gaze as your eyes drag over his wet figure, something about it almost made you feel sorry for him.

“you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” his voice is hoarse as his tongue darts over his lips quickly, his eyes barely meeting yours as he desperately tries to keep his distance.

“i think i do.” you take a step closer.

“no you don’t.” he takes a step back.  “i shouldn’t be here.”

“but you are.” your voice is calm and controlled as you do your best to talk him down from his inner turmoil.

“but you don’t understand this is wrong.  it’s… it’s dangerous.” you watch as he takes another step back from you, his hands tightening by his sides as his knuckles turn white.

“i’m your teacher.  i have responsibilities.  i’m supposed to protect you, not let… this happen.”  his voice cracks as he speaks and you can almost feel a trace of guilt within your chest knowing he really does care about his students.  but you simply couldn’t take it any longer, you were both consenting adults, it shouldn’t matter, and you were determined to show him that.

you take a step forward and slowly bring a hand up to his arm, the feeling of the wet fabric against your fingertips sparks something inside of you, a heat blooming within your stomach.

“let… this happen?” you feel him flinch slightly under your touch, his eyes landing on yours, a warning sign flickering between them.

“y/n, stop.” you hear a tinge of desperation behind his voice despite his warning tone.

you take a step closer to him, a dark smile on your face as your hand draws up his arm, your finger tips set ablaze above his body heat, your stomach twisting at the thought of him finally giving in.

“i said stop.” your shocked at his sudden movement, his hands going up to grab your wrist, holding it in place in a way that’s firm but not rough.  

“i’m not a boy you can tease until i break.  i’m a man, and if i break — i won’t be gentle.” you nearly have to hold yourself up, your knees becoming weak from his words alone.  you take a breath, stabilizing yourself before taking another step closer, your faces merely inches apart as you breathe in his air, his closeness becoming intoxicating, like a high you can’t get enough of.

“i don’t want gentle.” your voice is soft, but his features are furthest from that, his eyes holding every last bit of restraint he has as you watch them darken by the second.

silence closes the gap between your bodies as you watch his control slowly slip away.  every thought, every image that ever crossed his mind, all playing at full speed, and it’s completely overwhelming.

he lets out a slow, shaky exhale.  his eyes shutting carefully, almost like he’s preparing himself, before he tightens his grip on your wrist, the feeling of your pulse quickening under his touch only fueling him further as he pulls you into him, closing the gap between your bodies completely.

“god can you shut that pretty mouth for once?” you feel your heart skip a beat at his words, his demeanor quickly changing at he looks down at you, his eyes half lidded and full of lusted, sinful thoughts.

“what—“

“you wanted me to lose control?  fine.  but don’t say i didn’t warn you.” his voice is deep as it reverberates through your chest, your mouth slowly opening to make a response until he quickly cuts you off with his lips fully encasing yours.

you tense into his mouth, your eyes widening until you’re finally able to melt into his touch.  his hands lowering to your waist to pull you taught against his abdomen, his belt rubbing roughly against your stomach, nearly hard enough to leave marks even through your shirt.

you moan into the kiss, your hands falling to the back of his neck at your fingers quickly find his hair, tugging it in multiple directions as your mouths fight for dominance.

you feel his grip on your waist tighten, his knuckles white as he uses your shirt to pull you closer, his feet frantically walking you backwards as you feel your back collapse against your bed, breaking the kiss just long enough to see his perfectly swollen lips and broad shoulders cradling above you.

“this is what you’ve been begging for, huh?” he shoots you a sly smirk before bringing his body to hover over you completely, his knees settling between yours as he uses them to guide your legs apart.

you subtly swallow a gulp, feeling more intimidated than you originally anticipated.

his smirk deepens at your silence, his head dipping down to your ear carefully as he brings his hands up to the hem of your shirt, his cold fingertips slowly running up the skin of your lower abdomen.

“what’s wrong, sweetheart?  thought you could handle it?” you can nearly hear his smile through his voice, his large stature on top of yours making you feel almost completely helpless.

“i can.” you internally curse yourself for sounding so meek, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by professor jeon as a deep, low chuckle emits from his throat and directly into your ear, his hands slowly dragging up further as he begins to lift up your shirt.

“tsk, don’t lie to me baby, you’re already in enough trouble.” his voice is dark and hoarse, his fingers cold from rain as his movements pause just below your breasts, your cheeks heating up softly as you realize you weren’t wearing a bra.

he leans further into the crook of your neck, placing a gentle kiss on your supple skin, your back unconsciously arching into him as you let out a breathless moan.

“is this okay?” his fingers carefully tracing just below your mounds.

you quickly nod, your eyes rolling back as you relish in the feeling of his body against yours.

“words, sweetheart.”

“yes.  this is more than okay.” you say softly, earning a small smile from him as his hands slowly run up your shirt before cupping your breasts fully, his large hands encasing them like they’re his own.

“so perfect.  all for me.” he mutters before diving back into the crook of your neck, his lips dancing along your skin, carefully tracing every patch your body had to offer, the speed and neediness from before being replaced with something more tender and sweet.

you can’t help the moans that leave your mouth as his fingers begin to trace your nipples, examining them with the pads of his fingers as he drags his tongue to the base of your collarbone.

he pulls away from you momentarily to fully lift your shirt off, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to the cold.

“so beautiful.” his hushed praises go straight to your core, your body responding to his every calculated praise.

he leans down, his face eye level with your chest as he takes each nipple in his mouth one at a time, taking care of them with ease, lapping over the buds and leaving you feeling desperate for more.

you feel worn, your breath quickening as you press your legs together in an attempt to relieve some of the heat bubbling within your core, only to quickly be denied by the strength of his knees keeping you pried open for him.

after feeling satisfied with his ministrations, he pulls away, his eyes landing on yours — dark and lustful.

“do you know what you are?” he husks, bringing a hand down to your sides to soothe them gently.

you tilt your head to the side, leaning it against your pillow softly, a small smile creeping onto your face, your eyes hooded, nearly enough to look high.

“what am i?”

“you’re my biggest lesson.”

you quirk a brow at his response, feeling slightly confused and he notices your change in demeanor, his touch becoming slightly more rough as he grips at your sides, pulling you down so your closer to his pelvis.

“i stand in front of that classroom every day, teaching restraint, structure, rules.  but you — you’re pure temptation written between the lines.  you’re like the forbidden fruit.  i should’ve closed the book long ago, but instead, i’m here, crumbling before you.”

his hands grip your sides tighter, his eyes traveling down your body as he speaks, taking a momentary pause to relish in your beauty, everything laid out so perfectly for him.

“you’re the forbidden fruit i can’t put down.  the bad thought i can’t shake from my head.  the red notebook i should’ve never picked up.  and now I want to ruin every page.”

you can almost hear your heart rate increase at his words, every breath more tempting than the last, threatening to leave you laying beneath him for an eternity.

he brings a hand down to the band of your sweatpants, his fingers ducking beneath them just enough to tease you beyond repair.

“let me ruin you.” you nearly let out a moan from his words, only able to respond with the slight shake of a head before he starts undressing you like his favorite book — the cover, the sleeves, tracing each page along the way.

you feel like his muse, a piece of artwork laying beneath him, his eyes scanning you ravenously, taking in every curve and dimple on your body, his hands following suit, you almost didn’t notice when he had undressed as well, too distracted at his hushed praises as he hovers over you on the bed, a hand cupping your hair gently as his eyes gaze into yours.

“i need to hear you say yes, sweetheart.” his voice is a hushed whisper, his hair messily hanging over his forehead as he brings a hand beneath your bodies, his cock nudging at your entrance slowly.

“yes… i want this.” your voice is soft as it fills the air, a small smirk appearing on his lips as he brings a hand up to your mouth, cupping it gently, his head ducking into the crook of your neck.

you close your eyes tightly as he slowly pushes forward, his cock nearly splitting you in two as you let out a sharp gasp into his hand.

“shhh.  good girl.  that’s it.” you can nearly hear the smirk in his voice knowing you would struggle with his size, but his hushed praises are appreciated nonetheless.

his girth was unexplainable, spreading you apart in ways you never knew were possible.  you certainly weren’t inexperienced, but it somehow didn’t matter.  it felt like an eternity before he bottomed out in you, his hips stalling to give you time to adjust, but you’re nearly shaking when you finally come to, the sound of his breathless panting in your ear bringing you back to reality, his hand slipping away from your mouth and down to your hip.

“jungkook?” you whimper, not even realizing that you’ve never called him by his first name before.

“you feel… heavenly.” he groans, his hips stuttering forward sending shockwaves through your core, a small moan slipping past your lips at the sudden jerk.

“so goddamn tight.” he rolls his hips forward slowly, his cock grinding against your walls with ease.

“ahh — jungkook.  please.” you didn’t mean to beg, but his teasing was making it nearly impossible for you to control yourself.

“fuck, you have to be quiet for me, sweetheart.  can you do that?” he continued to slowly roll his hips forward, your body shuddering with every small movement.  you’re only able to nod at him, gentle whimpers falling past your lips as you bite them tightly in an attempt to stay quiet.

he shoots you a glare, but decides not to tease you too much before he sets in on a quicker pace, his cock driving into you with intensity, but not too fast where you’re fighting for your life.

every stretch of his cock was delicious, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you down to meet his thrusts, occasional groans leaving his mouth and falling into the air as you stifle back desperate screams.

“fuck.  you’re perfect.” he grumbles, his voice low with need as he dives back into the crook of your neck, licking it ravenously and you’re unable to suppress a moan, coming out much louder than you had intended.

jungkook slowly pulls away, his eyes meeting yours with a glare as he quirks a brow at you, watching as your face contorts with both pleasure, and discomfort at his size and the inability to be heard.

“sweet girl, you can be quiet, right?” he smirks, his voice teasing as he brings a hand up to grab yours at the wrist, pinning them above your head gently, as if he thought you would break from any more force.

you whimper again, your voice shaky as you let out a meek, “y-yes.”

he tsks at your response, unbelieving as he dives back down into the crook of your neck, his hips picking up their pace as he places gentle kisses on your skin, a deep contrast to the way he was fucking you now, pinned up like a doll.

“wouldn’t want anyone to catch us now would we?  a cute little girl and her teacher, that wouldn’t blow over well i’m sure.” you can nearly hear the smirk in his voice as he speaks in between kisses, trailing them down to your collarbone as your fingers wiggle under his hold.

“n-no.  i’ll be quiet.”

he chuckles lowly, pulling away from you momentarily to appreciate your fucked out state — your forehead slick with sweat, lips puffy and swollen and eyes bloodshot.

“good.  because i have ways to keep you quiet if you’re not sure how.” he drives into you forcefully, a squeal leaving your lips at the sudden intrusion, your stomach feeling like it’s being prodded with every thrust.

he quirks a brow at your noise, his demeanor changing to one slightly stricter as his eyes zero in on yours, almost like a warning.

you bite your lip, shutting your eyes as you feel his thrusts quicken once more, the feeling of his cock driving into you was almost too much, and you couldn’t help the whimpers that left you with every movement of his hips.

he lets go of your wrists gently, his hands going down to your hips as he quickly flips you onto your stomach, a loud gasp from you easily being muffled as he places a hand on the back of your head, pressing it deeper into the confines of your pillow.  you let out a moan of relief knowing you can at least make some time of noise now.

his thrusts quicken now, his other hand going under your stomach to angle your ass up for him, giving him the perfect view as he smirks to himself at how easily you respond to him.

“that’s a girl.  feel better?” his cock prods your g-spot with every flick of his hips, pushing you closer and closer to the edge till it was nearly unbearable.

you shove your head further into the pillow as you moan loudly, your impending orgasm sneaking up on you quickly with the change of positions, making it nearly impossible for you to respond to him.

he feels the way you’re tightening around him, and he can’t help but throw his head back at the sensation of your walls closing in — it was heavenly.

“f-fuck why are you so tight?” his voice gets huskier with every word, his grip on your side tightening as his thrusts become messy, the feeling of your cunt wrapped so deliciously around him driving him to insanity.

you felt euphoric, teetering on the edge of your orgasm and every stroke of his cock only pushed you closer to the brink, it was almost enough to make you dizzy.

“p-please.” you moan, muffled into your pillow but you can tell he can hear you by the way his hand snakes in between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit with perfect accuracy.

you’re barely able to comprehend what’s happening before you’re sent spiraling over the edge, your legs shaking aggressively as you feel a wave of warmth run over your body.

“holy shit.” jungkook curses as he feels you cream over his cock, your cunt tightening so hard it makes it difficult for him to move, his hips stuttering as he does his best to continue his pace.

you’re a moaning mess, your head shoved deep into the pillow by his hand as you feel his cock continue to plow into you, your mind going blank as your body recovers from your orgasm.

“that’s it, baby.  good girl.  shh, i’m right here.” he mumbles barely understandable praises as he messily drives his dick into you, the tension on your g-spot quickly becoming all you can think about as your pleasure suddenly turns into overstimulation.

you’re writhing, unable to respond properly or tell him it’s too much due to his hold on the back of your head, your legs trembling harshly as you feel his hand settle back on your hip, his fingers digging into you hard enough to leave bruises.

“so perfect, fuck.” he breathes out before bottoming out into you, his cock twitching as he spills his seed deep into your cunt, your walls drinking up every last ounce he has to offer, not letting even a drop go to waste.

he lets out a deep moan, his head collapsing against your chest, his breathing unsteady as he rolls into you one last time, your walls milking him for every thing he has left to give.

you bring a hand up to the back of his head, the feeling of his hair between your fingers as you settle into his locks soothing you in ways you didn’t know were possible.

he slowly pulls away from you, your eyes meeting as he smiles at you softly, a hand going down to your hair as he tucks a strand behind your ear peacefully.

“you’re a lot to handle, you know that right?” he chuckles looking down at you.

“i think you did a pretty good job.” 

he smiles softly, “now i just have to learn how to handle you in class.”

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hi nalyra!

Regarding your latest post about going into the tags, I've been having a similar experience to be honest, especially lately. Definitive factors are the lack of news and s01 and s02 leaving us for 4+ years with this "tale". So much so that I've been actually starting to take it as face value too. Because really what does one have to say otherwise? Hints? Hints are not canon yet so they can't count as proof -also we don't know how they are going to be used.

Promised revisits? Yeah we saw those in season 2 and they definitely did not help change the tale. Contradicting promises and half truths from cast? It's not enough to rely on. The responses are often more about how the actors interpret their characters motivations not what the writers actually write and how they see the characters.

I really don't wish to be negative but I think it's equally possible that season 3 will infact not turn everything onto its head and this is largely based on the creative decisions taken so far. So many relationship dynamics were changed to their core eg. Armand-Louis.Core events altered completely, murder scene, trial scene etc.

And may I just add here a comment about rolin and not everyone has to agree this is just my impression, but listen to the way he talks.

Nickistat is a "super emo relationship", lestat is always described with epithets like "messy" "volatile", the world "sexy" was used a lot. Emphasis is given on how this is the Monster Vampire Show where everyone is equal in monstrosity because that's how monsters monster.

I really don't mean to dump all over anyone's dreams here but when people speak they show you who they are and what their intentions are. How hannah reacted to the 1x5? That's who she is and what she believes and what she writes stems from this.

When they spoke of the 1x5 revisit they were speaking like they somehow altered the whole series and its trajectory when infact no? The scene interpretation and its fall out stays exactly the same. Has stayed the same for the audience!

In no interview did they mention about setting up how lestat functions as the hero in the VC universe, not because to use a quote "this guy is a mess" but of how horrible things keep happening to him (some based on his bad decisions but others not) and he keeps going some times with existential angst others with a joie de vivre.

They did not mention or give emphasis on how the core of iwtv was parental grief, and how it WAS supposed to be about claudia.

We cannot expect season 3 to magically alter all of That. The edited tale very likely will never change but instead "added upon" let's say with some revisits and clarifications.

As of right now 90% of the Fandom is confused and to that i say it's not because all the pieces are missing its because the pieces don't match.

The writers intentions vs the actual book arcs and characters don't match right now there is a dissonance.

I apologize for the offensively long post, of course anyone can feel free to disagree I love hearing how other iwtv fans are experiencing the series and fandom and their thoughts on the future season(s).

And massive thanks to you Nalyra for providing this space that is much needed!!

You're welcome.

I mean... I do think the revisits helped to change the tale? And massively so, because the "sales man" comment alone made it clear that there had been whole memories implanted.

Should have made it clear, I need to say though I guess, because that for example is what I meant.

People... don't take the mental step back to evaluate the tale they were told. They "waited" for the big revisits to change everything they had been shown.

And what the show did instead - was change key scenes... and it expected everyone to be able to follow.

To re-evaluate why Lestat in 1x05 did not have blood on his face outside or in the sky... but was shown in the revisit to have had blood all over - for example. Because it's an implanted memory!!! The hair styles also indicate that, I have talked about that at length before.

What really happened out there is up to interpretation right now, and I do think it has to do with the arc they try to do that Sam hinted at.

But this way of revealing things... and expecting people to have the mental capacity to reevaluate the whole show after the fact... THAT is what did not work.

At least for some.

Because I have seen enough fan reactions to know that it did NOT in fact stay the same for the whole audience.

I do not expect s3 to give us many more explicit revisits. I do expect a revisit to "murder night" because the words in Claudia's diary do not match and the revisit was hinted at before.

But Lestat did not go and contradict everything Louis said in his book - some, yes, but not everything?? - so why would s3 do that.

No the show is not the books, and yet it is.

It is an adaptation.

I do not like all of the choices... but what I do get is what they intended with the revisits and how these few key scenes do, in fact, actually do change the whole tale.

Go on, nonny, do a rewatch.

Look at Lestat's hair in Louis' memory, and notice the hair in what turned out to be a wrong memory... notice what Louis could not have known, but told of, and then... re-evaluate.

Because that is what this show wanted us to do with the revisits :)

Because it's all in there already... and THAT - as much as it frustrates me, given parts of the fandom not understanding it 😅 - is quite ingenious.

[zipyolip]

Why Do We Consider the 4th Dimension Both Time and Imagination?

This is mainly for people who want to dive into the science behind reality shifting and manifesting. We can also refer to reality shifting as making a quantum jump or quantum leap.

Maybe it’s not exactly Imagination in the way we think, but rather, everything that can happen, already is. We’re not building new worlds from scratch; we’re simply picking a point in time—a reality—where certain conditions are already true.

This is just a thought experiment, so take everything I say with a grain of salt. Pick apart what sounds right and leave the rest. I do agree with those who believe that we are the creators, the ones who make things happen. But for the sake of this theory, let’s stretch what reality-shifters generally accept and think beyond the usual boundaries. I’ve always loved thinking about this kind of stuff because, as a kid, I would ask myself questions like:

Why Do I Have the Ability to Smell, Breathe, Walk, and Talk?

The answer I got was always something like, “It’s your physiology.”

But that never really satisfied me. I wanted something more—something deeper, a purpose, a reason for being. I wanted to understand why I was born into this world.

We often say that because we are always shifting, we don’t have an original reality, and I agree with that. But I also can’t help but wonder: What was there before this reality? Did I shift here and decide not to remember anything from my past life? Why did my soul choose this world, out of all the possibilities? Why wasn’t I born a Martian on Mars, for example? In the end, I have no clue if it’s fate, karma, or luck. Maybe I needed to learn something important before reaching my full potential. The point is, there’s a reality where all of these things are true, and they only impact me if I let them. Who knows unless they know?

It’s a bit strange though, isn’t it? You can’t prove you weren’t Superman in your past life, but you can decide you were—and just like that, you are.

The Real Subject: The 4th Dimension

But, anyway, let’s get back on track. The real topic here is the 4th Dimension. I’ve always known we live in the 4th dimension, even though I couldn’t explain it properly for the longest time. It’s not some abstract concept to me—it’s always been a part of how I see reality. I recently stumbled upon ultrasound images and it inspired me to make this post. I never really paid much attention to pregnancy, and at this stage in life, I’m more about partying than raising kids (which definitely doesn’t fit with today’s economy). So, I had never seen a 4D ultrasound before.

What really caught my attention was that with a 4D ultrasound, you can see the baby moving over time. I looked into 4D printing and found that it's becoming common to create models that show how things will evolve. At first, I was just surprised, but then I started to realize something even bigger.

What This Means: The 4th Dimension

These 4D models are kind of like any other simulation. The difference? You can see movement. Physicists agree that we live in and perceive at least 3 dimensions. Some even argue that we’ll never fully experience the 4th dimension because our brains can’t process it, and we wouldn’t know how to interpret it. But we call time the 4th Dimension, which is the dimension of experience (our temporal dimension)—while the first three are spatial dimensions (length, width, height). The spatial dimensions give us direction (up, down, left, right), and the time dimension helps us understand things like rust and mold, which build up over time.

Why Time and Imagination Are Connected to the 4th Dimension

So why do we refer to the 4th dimension as both Time and Imagination?

When it comes to reality shifting, we’re talking about a dimension that shapes both our experience of time (the sequence of events) and how we perceive possibilities, choices, and realities. This is often tied to Imagination.

In technical terms, Time is called the 4th Dimension because it’s how we experience the world as something that progresses. It’s a constant flow of change—events, growth, decay, and everything that happens in our 3D reality. Time is what gives meaning to the 3 dimensions of space and what makes our experiences happen. Without time, nothing would move forward—it’d just be one static moment.

Now, Imagination is our ability to picture things that aren’t immediately in front of us. The 4th Dimension can be seen as the space where all possible events or realities already exist—not as creations, but as pre-existing outcomes. When we shift realities, we’re not creating new worlds; we’re simply choosing from the potential possibilities that are already there. So, shifting feels connected to Imagination because we visualize the experiences we want, but they’re already rooted in the time-space continuum.

In short, the 4th Dimension as Time and Imagination shows that our experience of time also involves selecting among potential timelines. And our ability to imagine helps us move through all the endless possibilities in the 4D fabric of reality.

Why We All See Time Differently

One of the coolest things about the 4th Dimension is how each person experiences time in a unique way.

We don’t all experience time the same. Time isn’t just something that moves in a straight line. It’s also influenced by how we feel, think, and live. For some people, time flies by, while for others, it feels like it drags. Things like age, stress, happiness, and culture all play a role in how time feels. When we ask people how long a month feels, it’s not just about a number—it’s about their personal experience of time.

This shows that time is super flexible in our minds. If you're having fun or really focused on something, time might feel like it zooms by. But if you’re stuck waiting or feeling bored, an hour can feel like forever. We also relate to the past and future in different ways. Some people are always thinking about the past, while others are focused on the future. Some live in the present, feeling like time is irrelevant.

How People Map Time: Perception and Life Journey

The way people draw time can also be a reflection of how they see their life journey. How long does a month feel in the context of your entire life? Does it stretch on endlessly, or does it fly by because it’s packed with stuff?

The following image is a drawing of how someone could perceive a year (I recall these types of drawings gained virality on TikTok and thought it'd be fitting to add. Try making your own, how do you perceive a year?):

In reality shifting, this idea of time feeling different for everyone fits perfectly. If time is subjective, then shifting to new realities could feel different for each person. For example, someone might feel like a shift happens instantly, while another person might feel like it takes forever, all depending on how they experience time in that moment.

The Subjectivity of Time: A Personal Experience

Finally, the way we personally experience time shows how powerful our mind and consciousness are. What we focus on, our mood, and how we think all affect how we feel time passing. Time isn’t just an outside force—it’s something we experience inside ourselves.

Let me know what you think about this. Before writing this, I believed that we created reality, but now I’m led to believe that the only thing we’re really doing is choosing where we go. Rather than actively creating, I’ve shifted towards selecting.

Now, I feel like a navigator exploring the infinite space-time. It’s a more peaceful, freeing perspective, in my opinion.

[jalluzas-ferney]

So I already seen some people talk about how Ras teachings about pushing against the universe and taking what you want is actually good as opposed to how the teachings of Lloyd/ the ninjas side where it’s more….. about going with the flow of the universe is bad.

And I GET where they’re coming from. I really do! I understand that these ideas are/could be read as “it’s better to just let everyone walk all over you and let destiny do its thing and you have no control over anything and you just gotta let stuff happen. No you cannot fight for what you want and go against “the flow of the universe” or whatever” but it really is a matter of how you read it because the way I see it:

Let’s look at it this way. You cannot force people to do things they want just because you want them to. You cannot force yourself to love someone just like you can’t force someone to love you as much as you want it. You cannot forcefully change someone’s identity or personality just because you don’t like how they are and you cannot forcefully change yourself to be someone you really aren’t just to appease others. You cannot force and entire population to bow down to you because you simply find it fun. You cannot force everyone to agree with you and unleash anger upon them when they don’t. You cannot change nor rewrite the past and you cannot puppeteer others peoples lives because it would be more beneficial to you. You cannot bring someone back from the dead and you cannot create the perfect person. This is why, Rass ideas, about, taking things by force, bending the universe to your will to get the stuff you want, is bad. It’s selfish. It’s harmful. Hell it can even be harmful to oneself.

I don’t think that the ninjas teachings/ideas supposed in any way signify that ni matter how unfair something is you just have to let it happen or some shit like that because we know that’s not true, considering how the ninja are constantly fighting villians who do unfair shit. I mean this is pretty obvious but still.

Not everything’s gonna go your way and not everything is in your control and that’s ok. Once one learns to accept change, or how life doesn’t always go as planned, that some things that you don’t like might occur, they’ll be able to live at peace. As much as you wish for something there’s also things you have to respect. From boundaries to nature. From someone you love not loving you the way you wish they did to having to move away to somewhere new, being able to adapt and grow is something essential in life and essential towards being at peace.

Again, I understand why people would interpret the two sides of these ideas in dragons rising in such a way where both are right and wrong. And tbh I also agree and like seeing it that way, in the way that there should be a balance between both. Especially with all the themes about balance in Ninjago, but I still wanted to drop my interpretation of these ideas here and why I can also see how ras teachings can be wrong while Lloyd/the ninjas right. But again? The world isn’t black and white.

[windydrawallday]

⬆️ The MAIN REASON why I watched the show ⬆️

And I personally feel like something similar happened here to what happened with TFA and TFP Ratchet? Ya know the quote "This version walked so this other version could run"? Because I respect and enjoy TFA Swindle a lot but this one forged enough charm and even surpassed it in his own way? Idk Idk pretty pretty con man bot and super entertaining to watch! Luv him to bits 💜

[citrusai]

weekes saying all that mythal shit is up to interpretation is so weird to me because instead of worrying about leaving all of solas' past up to vague interpretation to (new) players because you're too chickenshit to stand by your established lore you could've focused on ghilan'nain and elgar'nan and who they were and what they became. elgar'nan literally let the other evanuris slay his wife and he watched on, and then he rotted in a prison made by what he referred to as his wife's "lapdog" and second in command general. and what of ghilan'nain? what is their relationship? why is it just the two of them in that prison when there were more evanuris trapped in there? why are they simultaneously this omnipotent threat capable of spawning blight at will but also two dimensional villains chasing their own tails half the game while solas just poses and speaks in his riddles in the fade. also a fragment of mythal is inside of morrigan, does no part of her gaf that her husband is literally terrorizing the world she loves? hello??

[lesbiangiratina]

Testament’s conversion is so funny why the hell did the pwab put gear cells in a corpse. Like to what end. Why would you do that

[icewindandboringhorror]

examining a seemingly normal image only to slowly realize the clear signs of AI generated art.... i know what you are... you cannot hide your true nature from me... go back where you came from... out of my sight with haste, wretched and vile husk

[thatswhatsushesaid]

I am routinely baffled by any criticism of jgy fans' interpretation and defence of his character that can be boiled down to "but genre conventions!!!!" as if defying genre conventions isn't how newer, cooler, more interesting stories end up being told.

[shyfurby]

I have not posted any of my analysis to reddit yet and I think I might just post it and ghost it. I've already spent too much time looking at other people's threads on there to feel any way good about interacting with folks.

I already went in an added the "I know you're going to bring this up let me save you the time" section which is exclusively touching on the frequent topics of:

"well what about the fingerprint nostrum and finger mimics? He is clearly just a crackpot"

And

"it's definitely some weird elaborate sacrifice to Metyr thing"

[katimanki]

An AU where they grew up as upper class rich kids going to fancy charity events and banquets every weekend.

Mike hates them and is dragged to them against his will, but at least Max is also forced to attend with her family, so they don't have to suffer at these stuck up formal parties alone. The Byers-Hoppers are new in town and are attending their first charity event as members of the rich people community of Hawkins and Mike has a bi panic moment when he spots the family's twins in the crowd. (at first his silly ass almost mistakes them for a couple until Max corrects him)

The Wonder Twins(as Max calls them) seem like an intimidating pair, they are in their element at the fancy events, and Mike is very much not. But when he catches the twins pulling pranks on the sidelines of the events, he gets the courage to try and befriend them.

(this had a companion piece of Mike and Max, but anything I made would just not look even close to what the sketch did, so I just put the sketch under the cut)

[inkykeiji]

I have a question about something I’ve kinda noticed on tumblr. When you write fics about a character like Dabi and then give him multiple different story lines and personalities and stuff, why don’t you just make an original character? I’ve kinda noticed that a lot of writers on here will write about a character but then make them pretty different from what they’re really like in the show/book and change some stuff about them, and it just makes me think if it would be easier to make up a new character at that point so that the writer could make them exactly what they want 🤔 idk if that makes sense I have trouble explaining myself sometimes lol

well i can’t speak for other writers, but for me personally (and i’ve said this before) i enjoy taking a character, breaking them down analytically to their core personality traits, characteristics, values and beliefs, and then throwing them (the character) in a new situation and exploring how i personally believe they’d act/behave/respond to that situation IF they were hypothetically in it. so touya-nii, for example, is how i personally interpret todoroki touya the character would be if he were a big step-brother in our universe (aka not in the my hero universe with all the quirks etc) within the specific narrative i’ve created for him. he retains all of dabi’s core traits and characteristics, and they manifest within how he behaves and interacts with the narrative. bmb dabi, for example, is how i personally believe dabi would act if he fell into true love with someone, etc etc etc.

i really enjoy doing this, because i love analyzing and interpreting my favourite characters in such a way and getting to throw them into situation after situation and explore how i believe they’d react, so that’s why i write so many AUs! it’s a lot of fun and a great creative exercise, and i think a lot of us enjoy getting to examine our favourite characters in this way/context/entirely without constraints and expressing our own unique interpretations of them! i hope this helps anon c: AUs definitely aren’t everyone’s cup of tea and that’s totally okay, but all fan fiction written follows the idea of the author expressing themselves and their thoughts and interpretations surrounding a character and/or an event, whether that’s within canon or not! <3

[dekusleftsock]

your blog is feeding my togachako hyperfixtation rn

AS I SHOULD BE IM AN INSATIABLE MONSTER OF TOGACHAKO, CHAOS, AND YOUR MOMS PU33Y

Join me in my crusade of feral frothing at mouths and staying up all night thinking about them

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 331

Adjective: Old-Fashioned

Noun: Posy

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Old-Fashioned: in or according to styles or types no longer current or common, or not modern; (of a person or their views) favoring traditional and usually restrictive styles, ideas, or customs

Posy: a small bunch of flowers; (archaic) a short motto or line of verse inscribed inside a ring

[omanu]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

[peachylynnie]

what jewelry they like on you

word count: ~300-400 per lead contains: lads men x non!mc reader, established relationship, they all adore you, jewelry descriptions, fluff, suggestive themes (sylus, rafayel, and caleb), and did i mention fluff? make it toothrotting. a/n: it's midterm season so headcanons it is. again, these are headcanons so i'm not saying i'm right. just my silly little interpretations. inspired by my impulsive buy of a bracelet the other day. no, my wallet hasn't recovered. reblogs and comments are always appreciated! tagged: @vvintqz (a little headcanon for xavier, lmk if u want me to stop tagging) lads masterlist

sylus

necklaces all the way

has a preference for silver chains with red or black charms

it's his signature colors on your pretty neck

loves it even more when the charm rests between your collarbones

if you want his nose to bleed, wear a long necklace

yes, the one that goes all the way down to your chest

but if you really want to get him going

wear a choker

doesn't even have to be a chain type or have charms

if it's a choker, he'll fold, like dogs to a bone

you can't blame him

it enticingly accentuates the rest of your neck and collarbones, the two places he likes to leave marks on

don't worry if you're hypoallergenic (like me)

he only ever gets you the finest of materials, even if you point out the cost

not that you mind or anything

"sylus," you whine.

you're going to be late. again. all because of this silver-haired man who's refusing to leave your neck alone.

"sylus!" you gasp when he tugs down the choker, his dewy lips taking advantage of the newly exposed spot.

you're starting to regret wearing a choker (not really). you thought it went well with your outfit. and it did! it added a little pop to your look, and you were excited to wear it for the first time in a while.

"hey!" you squirm in his embrace when you feel the poke of his teeth. "no marks!"

"does it really matter, sweetie?" he asks nonchalantly before continuing his assault on your neck. he loves how his tongue occasionally meets with the smooth fabric of your choker. "this," he tugs on it some more, eliciting a soft whimper from you. "will cover them."

sighing, you make a mental note to apologize to your friends for being late when you meet them.

xavier

earrings

especially studs or the mini drop ones that come in cute graphic designs.

there's just something about the way the adorable little charms hang from your ears

really, he thinks they complement your face shape

and he loves to cup your face whenever

but when you wear the ones that are star-themed

he's looking at you as if you're the one who hung them up in the night sky

seriously, he's never seen anything more beautiful

it also strokes his jealousy (?) in a way (cuz yk he's all abt the stars)

but that's worth like...less than 1% of the experience

he just really loves seeing you wear them

don't worry if your ears aren't pierced

clip-ons are a thing, and he'll make sure to get that ones that are both high quality and comfortable

he also loves watching you put them on

his cheeks hurt from smiling too much. he tries to cover his rosy face when you lean towards the mirror.

you're adjusting the backing of your new star stud. furrowing your brows, you tilt your head to the side for a better look.

xavier swears he's never seen anything more beautiful in his life. here you are, making something so simple as adjusting an earring look so skillful and charming.

"done!" you secure the backing and spin around to show your boyfriend. "what do you think?"

"yeah," he nods softly. "i think you're glowing."

you giggle and embrace him tightly.

"thanks for surprising me with them," you chirp, peering up at him.

the stars on your ears shine. no different from your eyes.

"anything for you, starlight," he whispers, stroking your cheek with a thumb. "anything for you."

rafayel

bracelets

listen

we all know this man is a FIEND for our hands

i may not have all of his five-star cards

but tell me why it is that in all the ones i have, he's YEARNING for our hands at some point

jumps at every chance to help you put one on

has a thing for cuff bracelets

like the metal swirly ones that hold a jewel in the middle

they exude the sense of royalty in a way (he's a god so)

most definitely has designed some for you too

and by some, i mean numerous

what's really heartwarming about that though is that he collects the materials himself

the amount of seashells he has preserved for you

but back to him being down bad for our hands

there's something about the way cuff accompanies the bare skin of your wrist and gently presses against your pulse

he's in heaven whenever he nuzzles against your wrist and feels the cool metal graze his heated skin.

"wait," you squint at the bracelet rafayel just secured around your wrist. "did you design this?"

"yup," he answers with a puffed chest. "good eye, cutie. how'd you know?"

you roll your eyes lovingly.

"first of all, i'm your partner, raf." turning your wrist, you admire the intricate swirls of the cuff. "second of all, your works normally have a trademark."

"oh?" he grabs your wrist and pulls you to him, his lips already tracing your wrist. "and what would that be?"

you try not to shudder when his siren eyes meet yours.

"isn't this from one of your lemuria collections?" you shakily gesture towards the sapphire seashell crested on top. "you always reference lemuria in your works, right?"

"wrong," his tongue darts out, savoring your quickened pulse as punishment for your incorrect answer. "it's not just lemuria i always reference in my works."

he tightens the cuff.

"it's you, cutie."

zayne

rings

he loves the subtlety of them

especially the ones made out of thinner bands

they bring out the beauty of your fingers

he loves the way they shine whenever you move your hands too

let's say the two of you are at a cafe

sitting across from each other and reading novels

except he gets distracted (in a good way) whenever your flip a page

your ring glimmers in the sunlight that's peeking through the window

oh wow, not only is there a halo over your head, there's a halo around your finger too

he can't help but reach out at some point

and trace your left ring finger

imagining what it would be like to gift you one

a simple one that conveys an impactful message

one he hopes you'll say yes to

and bound not only both his and your left ring fingers

but also your souls to each other

"zayne? are you alright?"

he snaps out of his thoughts, lifting his chin from his palm.

"sorry," he apologizes as smoothly as he can. "could you repeat that?"

you smile endearingly. his heart beats rapidly.

"i asked if you were alright."

"yes," he answers before clearing his throat. "yes, of course. why?"

"oh, it's just," you giggle. "you're still tracing my finger."

zayne immediately retracts his hand.

"sorry," he apologizes again. this time profusely. "did i make you uncomfortable?"

"no, no," you immediately reassure. "i liked it. it's just you were doing it for a while..." you pause before continuing. "i thought you were checking for dead skin or something."

zayne blinks.

"you thought i was checking for dead skin?" he repeats incredulously.

you nod slowly. now it's your turn to be flustered.

at that, he chuckles with a shake of his head and returns to tracing your left finger, ignoring your amusing assurances about how you always wash your hands thoroughly.

yes, he's most definitely going to marry you.

caleb

anklets

this totally wasn't inspired by that one scene in the main story where he pins our leg down with his evol

nope not at all

i don't know what you're talking about

he likes the ones that come with dangly charms

this is because he can hear you whenever you move

interpret that however you want

but really, he loves how the sound gets louder and louder

because that means you're moving TOWARDS him

he wants to gift you a whole bunch of charms

specifically apple and sky themed

it's over for him if you wear it while your legs are exposed

that man is on the floor, his hands haphazardly roaming up and down your bare skin

and when he notices the anklet with the charms that he gifted?

it's over for you

his fingers are slipping underneath the anklet, wrapping around your ankle, and pulling you to him

where's his face at?

uhhhhh

you're trying to control your breathing. you really are. but it's hard to when there's a man, an incredibly gorgeous one with lavender eyes deep enough to engulf you whole, settled in front of you, specifically in between your legs.

thankfully (not really), he hasn't done anything yet. he's just kneeling there with his metal fingers snaked around your ankle and his eyes transfixed on the anklet you decided to wear.

"uhm," you start, nervously shifting on the couch. "is there something wrong with my ankle, caleb?"

he finally looks at you. you can't tell if he's angry. definitely not with your foot resting against his broad shoulder.

"nothing's wrong, pips." he speaks after an eternity.

you sigh in relief. eager to get out of this compromising position, you try to put your foot down. keyword: try.

"caleb, what-"

"when did you put the charm on?"

"oh, uh," you notice him looking at the anklet again, but more at the apple charm. it has a snake coiled around it. "a while ago? i think as soon as you gave it to me."

he breathes in sharply.

you think it's over when he releases you. you're proven wrong when he grabs both of your ankles and drags you to the end of the couch, his chin dangerously close to your core.

"you really don't make it easy for me, pips."