#i mean wonderful whims
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froggyfanboy · 4 months ago
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can't wait to download the new sims pack and delete like half of my romance related mods
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ceryulean · 8 months ago
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Day 6: Family A little somethings about Kagi's cousins
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ghostbustermelanieking · 1 year ago
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mr. "talk it through as a crew" is the most hypocritical about his own rule, and i think it's hilarious, HOWEVER i can completely see where that comes from -- a lifetime of being shut down for talking too much could definitely leave you with a tendency to bottle up your own feelings, even as you preach the opposite. to me, it seems like, with this mantra, stede was trying to create the environment he's always craved: a place where you can talk about your feelings and seek support. but he still doesn't see himself as someone who should be sharing... season 3, please let this man talk about his feelings!!!
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spacecoffeeandcartoons · 1 year ago
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oop its uni ranking time again
the time of the year when I remember that since age 14 ive basically spent my life in educational institutions that have been at some point ranked #1 on some of these lists. ugh. bleh. nothing intelligent to say just now, I just always need to remember the ways this limits or biases my experience in addition to the ways it broadens it. someday I will finally write the big article that's been brewing in my brain about the meritocracy fallacy.
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souplovingwerewolf · 2 years ago
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Nothing, and I mean nothing, will replace the sheer amount of unchecked power I felt whenever little elementary school me would log into KidPix.
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franeridan · 1 year ago
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rereading wholecake really is making me wish we'll get to see sanji at least once seriously in love with someone, he's so fucking weird tbh. he'll be infatuated to the point of incapacitation for the first ten minutes of constant exposure to a pretty girl and then he'll mostly start acting normally once he's gotten used to her presence, but then what does actual love look like on him? reading this arc makes me so curious
#pudding falling for him went hand in hand with him becoming sanji-normal about her#she's one of the very few sanji ships i like but truth be told he doesn't act too differently with her and say nami or robin#he's just sanji#i think the closest thing to actual love you see on him is what he feels for luffy in the sense that that's the devotion he's usually#lacking with girls#but then i think someone like sanji would be so singlemindedly devoted to the person he's in love with it'd be way more than what he#feels for his captain#and considering we're talking about sanji the whole being incapacitated by his feelings alone would also keep on happening#but would love make him faithful I wonder#it's so weird he's so weird#odas no good at writing romances and he said so himself but if you think about the people you know are in love in op#they're all so singlemindedly focused on their love they're ready to betray anything and everyone for it#not necessarily in a bad way but take hancock ie#aside from the whole thing with the marines she went against decades of tradition to let luffy on kuja island#she's put her crew and hometown in danger for him without a second thought#and they're all strong and they all like luffy but would she really have cared either way?#all big mom's daughters married to someone are devoted to their husbands more than their family too#baby5 is a particular case but she too betrayed dof for sai on a whim#bege spent the whole post tea party talking about escaping but he went back immediately for chiffon#i mean to say that if oda ever wrote sanji really in love given the other romantic relationships he's written#AND how extreme sanji already is about love#i don't think he'd half-ass it? but then again all mugiwara put the crew above everything and everyone else#it's so interesting to me seriously#how would sanji deal with it? how would he act? what would his priorities be?#everything about that scenario is a question mark to me i want to know so bad
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andersdotters · 1 year ago
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Ayato really liking dogs and the connection between Thoma and dogs really kind of just... portray their relationship in a bad light, but in the kind of way that I can't say it's incorrect either.
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t-u-i-t-c · 1 year ago
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chapter xlii
#kr saber lb#kr lb#umbrella.posts#umbrella.thoughts#i feel like storious was always a little off like he has always been planning things and sneaking around#it feels like as soon as they found wonder world he was ready to go after the power but even before that he didn't have the best intentions#so when tassel says that things wouldn't have ended up this way if ww wasn't found in some respects he's right#if storious hadn't has access to power than he may not have become a megid but that doesn't mean he'd be a good person#it feels like he doesn't ever think anybody is really genuine and if they don't hold personal value to him they don't matter but even#if they do they could easily become disposable under the right circumstances#idk i just feel that he somewhat cares about others in a way but he also cares more about what he wants#the parallels between desast and ren are really nice#i like the black and white visual of desast coming apart like a ribbon being pulled#it's the idea of not having meaning that gets me#ren doesn't have a prominent place amongst the swordsmen and feels like an outcast as he cannot seem to get as strong as them#but he also can't understand how they got so strong even when it's explained#as long as he keeps doubting himself and pitying himself he won't be able to reach the strength he longs for#but when he does he has a group waiting for him and people who believe in him#with desast he was made on a whim and serves no real purpose nor does he feel he has friends#in a way ren believes he is alone but desast is truly alone#if they can remedy desast's loneliness that would be great
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fissions-chips · 1 year ago
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Jon and Butler love the way dogs do but in like. Slightly different ways.
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jackett-slut · 1 year ago
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ok sorry if this sounds fucking insane. i need to write something out.
#vent. sort of.#okay. why do i have absolutely no clue what i want or like. like in life. career/job/college/life etc wise. no interests beyond casual.#and amateur level interests. which is fine but i don’t think i want them to go higher and therefore aren’t careers you know. i like them#for fun. but like all my friends have interests and things they’re studying or doing that i hear it and i’m like oh my god yeah that’s them#that’s perfect. that’s so them. of course. makes perfect sense. and they have the history of hobbies and interest in the topic to back that#choice up. but me? man i have fucking nothing. i feel like i have been in survival mode forever and i literally have not had the opportunit#or ability to develop myself and my interests or even my fucking STYLE or ANYTHING!!! it seems worthless FOR ME. WHY????????#that’s the survival mode talking. but like what am i supposed to do now. i feel like a fucking shell of a person. like the only thing that#passes through this brain is whatever my current hyperfixation is and whatever new hell/trauma/issue i’m dealing with in my life. that’s it#man i remember being a kid and having vibrancy and passion and interests. and it just left. maybe it left when my brother was born when i#was 10. maybe it left during any one of the traumautic experiences or abuse during my teenage years.#but then i wonder what my friends see. like do i have interests and likes in their eyes? i mean space has been My Thing to my friends for#years now but even my interest and love for that was a coping mechanism (escapism) and i’m not interested in the science beyond what i can#use to cope and mentally escape or use in my head as hope for escape.#MAN i feel like i’m so fucked. like i don’t know what the fuck to do. i don’t want to do anything. maybe i’m depressed?#i mean i know i do and have dealt with depression but i mean maybe that’s what this is from.#maybe i’m autistic? maybe adhd and maybe that’s why i have whims and phases that never stick? i don’t know.#maybe it’s from the dysphoria? maybe it’s like bc i can’t picture a future for myself bc of that? probably not cuz i have trans friends who#do indeed have solid interests and senses of self.#so. i don’t fucking know.#i don’t fucking know. i don’t know what to do. i feel like i’m falling behind and like i’ll never get out and i’ll never get my head into#my own real life and the present in order to figure out who i am and what i like and want. i’ve got NOTHING. HEAD. EMPTY. WHAT THE FUCK.#what the fuck. what do people do when they run up against this problem. i don’t know.#maybe this rn is just because i’m on my period. i don’t know. fuck.#maybe it’s dissociation. or like FROM my lifelong dissociation issues. hmm.#okay but THEN i’m like okay this is a really privileged problem to have like. i have a choice in what i want to do. which is nice. and i am#not even being rushed by my family. so like. then i feel even worse for feeling this way. fuck. maybe it’s fine maybe it’s all fine.#maybe this just happens sometimes and a person has no interests and it’s fine. i don’t fucking know. doesn’t seem to be that way for most#people but maybe. who knows#vent
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haljathefangirlcat · 1 year ago
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#writing fic isn't a job and comments aren't a salary #and if it starts to feel that way then you might be experiencing burnout #and it could be time for a rest - or to think about one anyway #I obviously don't know your situation #but that's what it was for me
I'm going to start this post off by saying that I write fic, and I know the pain of putting something out there and not getting a response. It sucks and it hurts and it puts a dent in my self-confidence. If I have the choice between posting a work on AO3 and getting only comments or posting a work on AO3 and getting only kudos, I'll probably choose comments let's say 8 times out of 10.
But with that in mind, posts that attempt to shame or guilt readers into commenting don't actually work.
Negative reinforcement (in the form of shame, guilt, or other worse emotions) doesn't make anyone want to do the thing. It just makes them want to avoid the guilt, etc. Rather than encouraging someone to talk to you about your writing, you're making that person want to avoid you so that they don't have to feel bad. That's just human nature.
I've said before that I think a lot of writers are looking for community rather than comments, and I still think that's true. The reason I love both writing and receiving comments is because it makes me feel like I've made a connection with someone. I may never know their real name or what they look like or where they live or anything else but what fandom we have in common, but we've reached out to each other in this text-based medium and we've shared words that made each other feel something.
I know that these posts are written out of frustration or loneliness or needing support or a hundred other reasons I could list off the top of my head. But when I read "you should be grateful for the things I give you and show me proper appreciation" it just reminds me of my parents telling me to clean my room or to follow the rules while I live under their roof.
It's so much more vulnerable to admit, "I don't know if this story is any good and I really wish someone would reassure me right now."
It's much harder to say, "I feel so alone in this fandom, and I want to make friends with someone."
It's difficult to admit, "I worked so hard on this for so long and I'm so tired, but if someone out there likes it then all of that effort will be worthwhile - and if no one says anything, then I'll feel like my effort was wasted."
I'm not trying to shame the people who made those posts, and if that's how this comes across then I'm sorry. I'm just trying to explain why I think those posts will harm more than they help.
I also hope that any readers who see this post will understand that those writers are just people who are feeling a lot of different ways, and they're venting their frustrations. I've been there. I've reblogged those posts before when I was feeling frustrated like that too.
If you're able to comment, those comments are appreciated. If you're not able to comment (for whatever reason), that's okay too. ❤️
#fandom#fanfiction#copying op's tags because they're as on point as the rest of the post which is pretty damn great itself#and i say that as both#someone who sometimes still catches herself obsessively checking her ao3 inbox#and someone who sometimes still feels guilty about not having enough energy/motivation/things to say to comment on fics she likes#comments are wonderful! but they're also not something you can always just whip up on a whim#nor should they be someone's main motivation to write or main criteria to judge their own work or even themselves by#and yeah i just hate the idea that they are a writer's 'payment'#i'm not writing fic to be paid! i'm not writing fic for anyone else but me unless they're explicitly labeled as gifts!#i just have brain gremlins about weird subjects!#and if someone else has brain gremlins about the same things#i'll be happy and maybe even a little giddy to discuss them with them#hell just yesterday i was rereading this beautiful lovely amazing comment from a while back#by someone on anon who told me they'd been thinking about my fic for like two years before finding the will to write a comment#when i replied to that comment i didn't give a damn about the fact they could have commented right away#instead of leaving that fic commentless for two years#i only cared about screaming 'YES! YES! YOU UNDERSTAND EXACTLY WHAT I MEAN ABOUT BLORBO FROM MY RARE FANDOM!' at them#and the conversation that got started with that reply will probably always be one of my fave interactions with someone on ao3#... also i ALSO managed to comment on like. one of my fave fics EVER only after rereading it endlessly#leaving kudos on it both logged-in and on anon#and bookmarking it and finding any excuse to spam it to other readers lol#you can't force stuff like that
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mythvoiced · 1 year ago
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@jeoseungsaja | the GBEP
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Among the many animals to hop and hunt and run about forest floors, foxes aren't exactly the strongest on the list. Take a red fox, it usually shares its habitat with bears and wolves, or even elks and deer not small enough to be prey, large enough to not be competition but certainly threat.
That's perhaps where the legend of the 'cunning fox' had come from, who knows. A small predator who knows its way around quick, small feet, who slinks and rests its chances of survival on agility, and on needing less to survive than other predators in its area much better at killing, much better at eating.
But, being so small, being so nimble, being up against competitors with larger jaws, larger paws... foxes are easily frightened, too.
At least in Yuri's case.
At least in Rang's case.
A fox' cry has been compared to the pained, terrified screeching of a female voice for good reason.
Yuri is looking at Yeo with the large eyes of a cornered animal, not of a predator who thinks itself at an advantage in a fight. Yuri doesn't believe in her prowess to fight against Yeo because she's arrogant, misguided, but because she needs to win against the bigger threat, because her survival depends on it.
Yuri doesn't stare Yeo down because she wants to take him down but because she has to get him to understand, as subconscious as the urge may be, that she will die in an attempt to remove him, if he threatens what little she has:
Rang.
Rang and her, two foxes, sœur et frère, bones exposed, hinds lame, in the woods somewhere.
She doesn't like his attitude at all. He stinks. Stinks of inhuman blood, of healing wounds, of age and expertise, he looks arrogant in her eyes, threatening for the position in Rang's life he occupies, the spot she doesn't understand. Why care about him at all? He looks like he's just waiting for the right opportunity to die.
Good.
Die.
One less thing to worry about, she thinks, with all the malice of a child who doesn't understand what death is.
I hope you die, the child says, thinking death means nothing at all, only understanding 'oh, how quickly adults pale at the word'.
Her gaze flickers between the door and him repeatedly, chewing his words over. She's not particularly witty, words mean little when she has claws and teeth, she's never used them to fight. She doesn't have a good retort, even if her eyes narrow in understanding that she's being target of mockery.
All the more reason to shoulder past him into his den.
She explores his place with her nose first, two steps in - flowery - before turning to stare at him again.
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"I'm not scared. Or concerned. I'm bothered. By you. You sound like far more trouble than you're worth."
#jeoseungsaja#the half fox;guest muse#the half fox;yuri#BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH YA GIRL GOSH I COULDA SWORN I REPLIED TO THIS? 🥺 booboothefooling again 🥺#sneaks in a Hozier lyric HEHEHEHEHEHEHE (not me adding french to make it rhyme with 'somewhere'- get a load of THIS hozier-)#THANK YOU SO SO SO SOS O MUCH FOR ENJOYING THIS LIL WHIM OF MINE AND PLEASE KNOW THAT#I STRUGGLE TO READ THROUGH YOUR REPLY WITHOUT TRANSCENDING A LITTLE YES INDEED YES INDEED#READING ON ONLY TO FIND OUT SO MUCH OF YEO'S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE#IS DEDICATED TO BEING GLAD BECAUSE HE'S FINDING OUT RANG ISN'T ALONE??????#ALEX????? THOSE HAPPY TEAR SWEATERS NOW INCLUDE ACTUAL TEARS???? OF ME?????? WRITING WITH YOU??????????#THANK YOU MOST MAGNIFICENT WONDERFUL ALEX FOR WRITING THESE THINGS WITH ME DANGNABBIT DANGNABBIT#DON'T WORRY DON'T WORRY I GUARANTEE YOU YURI WILL BE PART OF THE WANG YEO HYPE SQUAD SOON ENOUGH#i'm actually PRETTY serious about this tbh because??? I MEAN??? SHE'S PRETTY RECKLESS TOO YKNOW#if she finds out Yeo is out there going 'i'm solving a few problems by fighting them to death' she'll 'WAIT CAN I COME TOO'#she'll reverse adopt him too i am so sorry he'll be the oldest sibling with two completely unhinged youngsters#she'll be the absolutely deranged youngest child there's no saving there's no escaping#I MEAN OBVIOUSLY WE DON'T HAVE TO GO DOWN THAT ROUTE IT'S JUST TO UNDERLINE HOW#SHE'S BEING FEISTY AND CRANKY BC SHE'S PROTECTIVE SHE'LL DIG HIM SUPERS FAST#BECAUSE HE'S WANG YEO AND NONE OF US ARE IMMUNE TO YOUR WRITING HIM#;queue
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luveline · 10 months ago
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𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here
cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar. 
You see both sides of him now. 
“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince. 
“Hello,” you call back. 
The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?” 
“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!” 
“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step. 
“Shit, you wanna see?” 
You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.
He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin. 
“Another bat?” you ask. 
“Not cool?” 
“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?” 
“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?” 
You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre. 
The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him. 
“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes. 
“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands. 
“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically. 
You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch. 
“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says. 
“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways. 
“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”
“You don’t wanna line up?” 
“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that. 
“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.” 
“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.” 
You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained. 
Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms. 
“You okay?” he asks. 
You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move. 
“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?” 
“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.” 
“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.
He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long. 
“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.” 
You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.” 
You pull your head up slowly. 
He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours. 
Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter. 
You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his. 
With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.
You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation. 
Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath. 
“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable. 
You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth. 
“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?” 
“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.” 
This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers. 
His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop. 
“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.” 
“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.” 
He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”
You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips. 
“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.” 
He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour. 
You breathe out happily. “Thank you.” 
“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.” 
You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it. 
“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.” 
You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D 
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diltonsstrangescience · 2 months ago
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It gets META???
It’s so frustrating that so many people don’t know or realise that Jughead Jones is actually weird, he is a weirdo, and it’s not just because of that stupid hat - it’s because of the way he mines the real life tragedies of his friends and loved ones for his own personal gain, the fact that he’s died at least 4 times, that there is at minimum 3 of him and you could make an argument for there being 6, that only like 4 of the people he’s ever met have liked him and those 4 people do not include his parents, that he trapped his friends in a perpetual cycle of being 17 because he can’t move on or get over anything, that he was asked to film his high school’s production of Carrie and ended up filming a true crime documentary and that isn’t even half of the weird but true facts about my friend Jughead
#I loooove that actually#‘we’re all characters in a story. we don’t have the ability to make our own decisions.’#that is existentially TERRIFYING#and it’s even worse if he’s the only one aware of this because he’s alone in that understanding#I can’t believe it gets meta that’s amazing#I guess once you’ve had enough weird experiences on the regular that meeting a Rat King seems like par for the course#you have to wonder why your life is Like This#archie comics#riverdale#jughead jones#meta#this makes another interesting contrast to the comics#his hat has always represented how *free* he is. how he doesn’t constrain himself to society’s norms.#he’s weird because he chooses to be. he wears that hat because he likes it and he doesn’t care what other people think of him.#on the show however the hat represents a LACK of autonomy#he calls it ‘stupid.’ he doesn’t want to wear it. but he has no choice because he has no agency in any aspect of his existence.#as in everything the showverse corrupts the hat’s meaning into a twisted dark reflection of itself (truly the darkest timeline)#rather than a symbol of individuality the hat has become a symbol of conformity#no matter how much tv jug wants to be a rebel or unique or anti-authority or whatever#he has no choice but to bend to the whims of his universe because he’s a character and he KNOWS it#both free will and predeterminism can exist at once but not for the same person. understanding of one view means you lose the other#OG jug has free will because he doesn’t *know* he’s a fictional character. all his actions are still his own. he’s weird on his own merits.#because TV jug understands himself to be a character. he no longer has free will. his weirdness is dictated by someone else and he knows it#even this is taken away from him#darkest timeline
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victorluvsalice · 1 year ago
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As the morning wore on and the holiday officially started, the chores around the farm continued --
-->Alice, upon waking up from her wolf nap, hit the easel to make a sad painting -- I'd noticed some sad specters in the greenhouse earlier, and thought maybe they'd appreciate a painting that matched their emotional state. By the time she finished, though, the little blobs had vanished, so I just had her keep it in her inventory for later. Never know when you might need a specter gift! I then sent her to give the chickens a bit of feed before she ended up having a bad conversation with Guidry (not pictured, but trust me, he was at the grill again making herbal stuff) and needed to head upstairs for a bit to clear her sadness with a bit of under-covers crying and a comforting hug from Kelly. :( Once that was done, though, she was in the right headspace to submit her latest completed book, "Puns Of The Gnat," to the literary digest! So that's nice for her. :)
-->Smiler, for their part, changed back into their normal form, started the laundry (throwing a daisy into the new additive tray to help freshen things up further), then got sent back to the robotics bench to continue making mechanisms until they got shocked again. XD It was then THEIR turn to take care of the chickens, spreading around more feed and playing with one of the new chicks to make sure everyone had enough attention. :) Honestly rather cute, isn't it?
-->Victor, of course, ended up in the greenhouse in his pajamas, teaming up with Elmer to tend to the various plants. . .well, in theory. In practice he kept trying to wander off and eat fruit pie and stuff. Victor, I know you have robotic help now, but you need to do SOMETHING to help keep your plants alive! Though, admittedly, I ALSO got distracted around this point by noticing all the bugs around Alice at the mailbox after she submitted her book, and remembering "oh, hey, All Bugged Out comes with a custom 'Likes/Hates Bugs' preference -- I need to set Victor and Smiler as liking bugs!" So I hopped into CAS and did just that. :p Nice to have it official after forgetting for so long!
-->Oh, and Kelly chased her tail on the counter by the grill. This is very important information. :p
Anyway, after setting the "Likes Bugs" preference for Victor and Smiler, Alice and Smiler insisted on joining Victor in the greenhouse to share a bit of the Party Spirit of the holiday. I allowed this because, yeah, they did need to fulfill that tradition -- and after the Victor/Smiler kisses earlier, I needed my Victor/Alice kisses too. :) However, there was still plenty to do before they could celebrate the holiday, so I sent them off to finish the chores while Victor finished up in the greenhouse (though, uh, as it turns out there was nothing to harvest -- for whatever reason, none of the plants fruited except for the glow orb) and TRIED to tend to his bees. You, uh, you can see how that went. XD Don't worry, Victor, just apply some mite treatment and they'll be right as rain!
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lisired · 2 months ago
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DREAM BOYS: slut me out
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pairing: shy!jisung x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (before you tap it make sure you wrap it), oral (m) receiving, switch!jisung, switch!reader (at least i think so… i wanna say there’s not really strong dom/sub dynamics here)
summary: The Dream Boys are notorious for banging everything on campus with a pulse and breaking hearts, but every time you see Jisung, you can’t help but think he’s nothing like them; he can barely even look into your eyes.
word count: 5.3k
a/n: i wrote this on a whim lol. as always, feedback is appreciated!
If I was a bad bitch,
I’d wanna fuck me too
There was something about Park Jisung that confused you to no end. 
For one, you wondered how a boy could be so awkward. You weren’t even this bad at your peak of social ineptitude, but he somehow seemed to always be shy and blushing. 
The most baffling thing about him, however, wasn’t just his timid personality and lack of confidence around the opposite sex. It was his ability to get along so well with people who were the complete opposite of him. 
Everybody at your school knew him and his friends collectively as the Dream Boys and they were notorious on campus for allegedly fucking every girl they set their sights on. You had no way of knowing how true that was, but based on nothing but vibes alone, most of them you didn’t doubt one bit. 
Mark, the sweet boy who posted bible quotes on his story every morning. Jeno, the intelligent one who obviously didn’t buy his way into college. Jaemin, the campus heartthrob everyone wanted to bring home to Mama. And Haechan, the party boy who was never not hungover. 
But Jisung was something different entirely. You had no idea why he hung out with them at all. Your interactions with him had been limited thus far, but he stammered out every sentence he spoke and could hardly maintain eye contact. 
There was no way in hell he was a whore. 
The school library had unfortunately become your second home over the past few weeks and you were lounging at a table with your friends when Ryujin whispered, “Looks like the Dream Boys are throwing another Halloween party this year. I hope there’s no more cum punch rumors. I almost threw up because of that shit.”
Yuna winced. Those rumors had positively ruined the drinking last year for everybody. “Dream Boys? More like fuckboys.”
You snickered. You didn’t have a clue where the name came from, but you couldn’t resist quipping, “And what did you think they dreamed about?”
“Pussy,” she answered without hesitation.
You laughed again. The boys were handsome, you would give them that, but they also gave the impression that they were carrying sexually transmitted infections yet to be unearthed by health authorities. 
Ryujin seemed like she was reading from her phone, probably gathering more information about the aforementioned party, and soon enough she chirped, “No worries, guys. Haechan just posted that there will not be any cum punch, but everyone should watch their drink.”
“I won’t be attending,” you replied with total disinterest. “Have fun potentially drinking some random dude’s kids.”
Ryujin groaned, but she had been expecting that response. It was no secret you had something against those boys because of their fuckboy reputation and while she didn’t blame you for that, she didn’t see it as an excuse to skip out on harmless fun. “You’re so boring.”
You shrugged, indifferent. “If boring means spending my free time watching Shemar Moore chase bad guys in two different universes, both of which he’s incredibly sexy in, instead of risking my tongue falling off, then I’ll be that.”
“You both are disgusting,” Yuna said in disapproval. “You want to fuck someone’s bald dad and Ryujin wants to fuck Haechan.”
Ryujin gawked. “That’s a lie!”
Yuna wasn’t convinced. “Admit it. The only reason you want to go to this party after last year’s fiasco is because you know Haechan will be there and you want to suck his dick until the foreskin dries up like a raisin.”
You made a face. The graphic description was putting unholy pictures in your mind that you would rather not see. “Yeah, I’m gonna go. You girls got that,” you told them as you rose from the table, tossing your bag over your shoulder. “I will see you guys when I emerge from my Netflix binging.”
Meanwhile, Jisung was by himself in the break room of the local cafe he worked at trying desperately to think of something that would undo the boner in his pants before his co-workers saw him and teased him to hell and back. It wasn’t even because of a pretty customer this time. He was just daydreaming. 
Was it a smart thing to do while he was at work? No, maybe not. But he couldn’t help it. His mind had been filled with perverted thoughts lately. It was the second week of October and Jisung was attempting to get all of the sexual frustration out of his system before the start of No Nut November.
He had been the first one to lose last year. And the year before that. And the year before that. This year, he needed a turnaround. 
When his boner wouldn’t go down as soon as he’d hoped, Jisung ultimately decided to go wank it in the bathroom as quietly as possible and got back to work. And to his luck, you were standing right there at the counter waiting for someone to take your order. 
Jisung swallowed when he saw you. He had always found you gorgeous and seeing you after orgasming made his brain short-circuit. With a little plan to increase his body count another digit, he went up to the counter and put on his shyest performance. “Hello. What can I get for you today?”
Your brows furrowed. He didn’t sound as bashful as he looked. That said, he sounded like he was donning his customer service voice, and everybody knew that the person you were at work didn’t reflect your true self. “Hi, can I get the Jasmine green tea, please?”
Jisung kept his eyes trained to the screen the entire time, even though he wanted nothing more than to look at you. “Sure thing. Would you like any add-ons?”
“Tapioca pearls. Extra, please.”
God, the way you kept saying, “Please,” was driving him crazy. He knew you were simply being polite, which was more than he could say about some customers he got, but it was making him picture other situations where he could have you begging for him. 
“Will that be everything?” Jisung asked as if his thoughts hadn’t wandered somewhere dangerous.
You nodded your head, taking out your card. “That’s it.”
While you were temporarily distracted by having to pay, Jisung took the opportunity to get a better look at you. His eyes flitted to your lips that were coated in a clear gloss which made them look plumper. It was all he could do not to think about how perfect they would look wrapped around his cock.
“I heard you and your friends are throwing a party tonight,” you mentioned, waiting for your order to be processed. Not that you gave a damn. You just wanted something to talk about. 
Jisung was pleased you didn’t seem to notice his less than clean thoughts, but when you mentioned the party, he stifled a groan. “Yeah, I can’t go. I have a closing shift.”
“Damn, that must suck,” you replied, watching the hint of annoyance spread across his face. “When do you guys close, by the way? I was thinking about getting some work done.”
“We close at nine,” Jisung told you matter-of-factly. “Don’t you usually work in the library?”
You lifted a brow, smiling softly. “Are you keeping tabs?”
Jisung glanced away. Make no mistake, he wasn’t stalking you or anything, but he did happen to see you in the library whenever he popped inside. You were there more often than not. “I see you around every now and then.”
You hummed. “To answer your question, I do usually work in the library, but my friends are being insufferable today and I knew I wasn’t gonna get any work done around them, so I hopped ship.”
Jisung nodded his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get it. My friends are pretty annoying at times too.”
You had an obvious disdain for boys in his group, but for some reason, you were always so nice to him. It was almost as if you had some kind of soft spot. Jisung wondered if he could manipulate that kindness. He figured you must have assumed he wasn’t as bad as the men he surrounded himself with, which couldn’t have been more wrong, but you didn’t need to know that. 
There was no opportunity for you to give him a response, because his co-worker placed your drink in front of you, saying, “Here you go, one Jasmine green tea, extra tapioca pearls.”
You thanked them and glanced back at Jisung, telling him, “I’m gonna go find a seat,” and walked away. 
Jisung was disappointed, but it was better than you leaving. And in truth, it wasn’t so bad, because it gave him a little more time to think of a way of getting you to go home with him. He didn’t want to lose for the fourth year in a row since he started college, and you were a beautiful girl that thought highly of him for whatever reason. 
You were still lingering in the cafe a few hours later and it was that time of night where Jisung had to start excessively wiping counters to appear busy, because he didn’t expect many more customers. 
But you were the only customer in sight and he was the only employee at this hour, so he approached your table and inhaled a deep breath. “Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?”
You glanced up at him, wanting to giggle at how nervous he seemed for whatever reason, but resisting. “Sure.”
Jisung started fidgeting with the rings on his long fingers, which drew your attention to his hands, specifically how big they were. “Can I sit down?”
You wordlessly nodded over at the seat in front of you. 
With one more small glance in the direction of the door, which didn’t appear to be welcoming more customers any time soon, Jisung slid into the booth. You both sat there in silence until he finally willed himself to speak. “So, I was wondering… can I ask you a favor?”
You were tempted to respond with, I wasn’t aware I owed you any. But you were very curious to know where this was going, so you decided to let him get straight to the point. “Depends. What’s the favor?”
“Promise not to tell anyone?” he asked. 
“Sure, I’ll promise,” you replied, nodding. “As long as you’re not about to ask me to hide a body.”
That threw Jisung off guard and he quickly shook his head. “What? No, of course not. Look, uh, I need a favor from you, but it’s something kinda…”
Pushing down the top of your laptop, you held your face in your hands and gave Jisung your undivided attention. You were beginning to suspect that it was a favor of a sexual nature. 
When you looked at him like that, Jisung glanced away. “It’s kinda embarrassing to say, but I was wondering… if I could come to your house.”
Now that was definitely a surprise. “My house?”
Jisung nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Yeah, that’s what I was wondering. I’m sorry, I know it’s weird. I just…”
Your brows furrowed. Jisung had been to your apartment before. Once. Twice, if you counted him having to come back because he forgot his notebook. Either way, you weren’t necessarily friends and it only happened because of an assignment, the fact that the library had been completely packed, and your apartment was nearby. 
“Why?”
“Well… I wanted to know if you could help me with something.”
“You’re so vague,” you teased. “What do you need?”
Jisung exhaled a breath and decided he was just going to come out and say what he meant. “Listen, this is gonna be kinda weird, and if you say no I completely understand and will leave you alone for the rest of my life. But me and my friends are preparing for No Nut November and…”
“And you want to get all of the horny juice out of your system so you don’t nut on the first day like a loser,” you finished for him. It wasn’t that hard to guess, all things considered. “You know it doesn’t work like that, right?”
“It does,” he insisted. He said nothing else, waiting for you to either agree to blessing his cock tonight or let him suffer, and hoping you chose the former. 
You had already made your mind up, but you pretended to be uncertain, shrugging your shoulders. “Why me?”
Much to your surprise, Jisung didn’t skip a beat. “You’re the only girl I didn’t think would judge me.”
And that was exactly how he won you over, because you hurriedly began packing up your things to go home and get a shower before Jisung could get there. Maybe shave too. You didn’t go bald, but a little trim had never hurt anybody. 
Almost the very second his shift ended, Jisung was in his car growing increasingly more frustrated at every encountered red light as he drove as fast as he possibly could without going over the speed limit. 
When he rang the doorbell, you almost immediately answered the door, wearing nothing but a shirt that looked far too big for someone of your stature. “What took you so long?” you asked, widening the door so he could enter. 
“Lots of traffic tonight,” Jisung replied, waltzing inside your house as if his heart wasn’t thumping in his chest at the idea of getting fucked. 
You closed the door and led him to the bedroom. The soft, feminine smell of your body wash clung to you and the scent was already driving him crazy with lust. 
Jisung glanced around your bedroom, happy to be back here again. The last time he was inside your bedroom, he’d seen your panties spilling out of their drawer and it had taken everything in him to focus on the assignment at hand. 
His eyes fell to your delicious legs which were smooth and shiny. No doubt you had just gotten out of the shower. You got ready for him, which had to count for something. You had consented to fucking him, after all, so your interest in him couldn’t have been any more blatant. 
You plopped on your bed, noticing the way he was drinking in the sight of you. “Don’t just stand there,” you said, stifling a giggle. 
Jisung swallowed the unignorable lump in his throat. “What do you want me to do?”
You hummed, pretending to think about it. “Come here.”
He took tentative steps towards your bed. It was adorably pink and fluffy, and he almost felt bad for knowing it was going to be ruined by the time he returned home. Then, he started thinking about what else was pink, and from that point on his mind began reeling with lewd thoughts. 
You had to pull Jisung onto the bed, shoving him onto his back. The gasp he made was cut off by your lips smashing against his as you kissed him like your life depended on it, gently tugging on his black hair. You didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, that was exactly what you wanted. 
It pleasantly surprised you that Jisung was a decent kisser. You could tell he had some kind of experience, which was fair since he was a grown man with very obvious needs, and your panties were pooling with arousal when his hands drifted to your waist as you straddled him, pulling you flush against his rapidly hardening cock. 
As if he wasn’t already struggling to breathe enough, you broke the kiss and began trailing your lips faintly over his jaw. Then his neck. Then his collarbone. He figured you would go down again to his chest, but you went back to his throat and started sucking and nibbling at the flesh. 
“Fuck,” Jisung panted, already worked up and you had barely done anything together so far. He was sure you could feel how hard he was, given that he was pressed right against you, but you went about kissing him as if you had no clue. 
His reactions did make you giggle smugly though, quite proud of yourself. The marks you were leaving at the base of his neck were going to be there for days. Maybe weeks. The room felt hotter now that you were making such a mess of him. He brought his hands up from your perfect waist to your under your shirt, his fingers ghosting over your breasts. 
It was your turn to gasp out. The soft sounds you made did wonders to turn him on. He cupped your chest in his big palms and let his thumb work over the stiffened nipple. All the while, you were beginning to grind against his bulge as your lips wandered here and there, drawing a guttural groan from Jisung’s throat. 
“Oh my god,” he said, stilling your hips with his strong hands. Something your body liked more than you cared to admit.
You met his eyes. They were filled with lust and desire and impatience. “Are you okay?”
Jisung nodded his head, glancing at your body. He was hoping you would get out of that shirt sooner than later. He wanted to see you. “It’s just…,” he trailed, his voice faint. “I’ve never done this before.”
You didn’t gawk. You didn’t laugh. There was no amusement nor was there any surprise. “That’s okay. We can take things slow, if you want.”
“I’d rather not. I like things fast,” Jisung insisted. 
You laughed. “Well, that can be arranged too. Have you ever had a blowjob?”
The thought of you sucking his cock alone nearly made a cold shudder wreck through Jisung’s body. “Once,” he said, trying to keep his composure. “It was a long time ago.”
“Now, we can’t have that,” you replied, crawling off of him to bring your attention to the very prominent bulge in his pants. You could tell he was big and that thought had you salivating. 
Jisung undid his pants hurriedly and tossed them to the ground like they meant nothing, giving you plenty enough time to ruffle through your drawer for something to tie your hair back with. 
With your hair out of the way, you patiently sat on your knees as he got just naked enough that you would be able to suck him off. Maybe deep down you had always wanted to. Jisung was exactly the type of guy you were into - the ones that looked away when a pretty girl complimented them and had a beautiful, shy smile. 
It didn’t surprise you that his cock was just as veiny as his hands were, but it did make your mouth run dry. 
“Sweet Jesus,” you mumbled underneath your breath, knowing that you were in for a treat. 
Jisung resisted a smirk. He knew he had a brag-worthy cock that was enough to make any woman lose her everlasting mind, whether she was going down on him or he was going inside her. You were no exception. Matter of fact, all it took was one look before you got a hold of his cock and spat on his pretty tip. 
He swore quietly, watching you attentively. There wasn’t even a need to get him hard because he had already stiffened from the way you were kissing him and grinding against his dick, so you got straight to work. 
You skipped the slow parts - the teasing bits with your tongue at the tip and base of his cock, and immediately went to the action. Jisung said he liked things fast and so that was exactly what you would give him. And he was going to take it like he’d asked.
“Shit. Shit. Fuck,” he cursed, clutching the sheets. You weren’t wasting any time and he almost couldn’t believe it. 
You hadn’t even waited before taking as much of him into your mouth as you could and that made Jisung’s head spin like he was about to explode. And in a way, that wasn’t necessarily untrue. He already knew this was going to be one of his shorter experiences, but definitely one of his better orgasms. 
Jisung groaned loudly. It was a shock, because he was one of the quietest boys you’d ever met, so it wasn’t too hard for you to guess that he was currently enjoying himself. The sound of his euphoric noises were making you horny and you could feel your panties getting even wetter. 
You wanted to fuck him so bad. It was killing you right now. He was just so perfect; so handsome and cute and easy to provoke. You wanted to draw the most sexy, uncontrollable reactions from him and watch what it did to his little male brain. 
Jisung could tell how much you wanted him and it only aroused him more. You were so fucking eager. You were going to town, sucking him off like you were in love with him, like you were worshiping him, and it got him off to an inexplicable extent. He couldn’t even begin to describe how your mouth felt sealed around him like you wanted to suck him completely dry. 
You ran your hands up his stomach, up his thighs. He was sensitive in more places than one, your touches making his breath hitch in his throat. 
“I’m gonna come,” he warned, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. Not with all the stunts you were pulling.
Damn, already, you thought to yourself, wanting to chuckle. Not that you were actually even remotely surprised. You knew what you were doing; you were ruining him and taking a little piece of him to serve as a reminder of your victory. 
You didn’t slow down. If anything, you went even faster, your head bobbing up and down his shaft like you wanted to eat him for every meal of every goddamn day. Jisung winced his eyes clothed and accepted his fate, knowing he was merely seconds away from the heat in his stomach unfurling. 
With the last piece of his self-control officially waning now that you were sucking his dick like you had something to prove, Jisung involuntarily began thrusting into your mouth, messily fucking your throat with every intention of getting himself off. You let him. At the moment, you were just pleased you’d driven him mad. 
And that you knew for sure, because the buildup of ecstasy at short last began to overflow and Jisung couldn’t take it anymore. He gave one final long, deep moan as he released down your throat and clasped your sheets for purchase, convulsing with the effort. 
Jisung was shaking. When his eyes finally opened, all he saw was you swallowing his load even though he hadn’t asked you to, and it made him burn from the inside out. 
You grinned when he withdrew from your mouth and glanced up to meet his eyes, watching him struggle to find words. “You good?” you asked, shifting on your knees. 
Jisung nodded, but that word didn’t even begin to capture the feeling he had inside right now. That was a revolutionary nut. “I… yeah. I’m good.”
Getting up from your knees, you ignored the faint ache in them and asked, “Do you wanna fuck now?”
“God, yes,” Jisung replied in a heartbeat, stroking himself back rigid. It would happen in no time. 
When he was hard, he gathered you in his arms and tossed you unceremoniously onto the bed, a gasp escaping your mouth as your back met the mattress. Jisung ordered you to raise your hips, which you did on command, and he slipped your panties from underneath you to throw them wherever his pants were. Still unsatisfied, he tugged at your shirt too until you were completely naked.
The sight of you made him hold his breath. Your smooth skin and supple breasts and kissable tummy. He slipped a hand between your legs, wondering if he should return the favor before he fucked you, but he was surprised by how wet you had gotten from giving him pleasure. 
“You really are something else,” he mumbled, running his arousal-slicked fingers over his throbbing dick. 
You laughed, debating what to do with your legs, and ultimately deciding on draping them over his broad shoulders. Jisung groaned, having imagined one too many times how your cunt would feel as he pushed in and out of it silkily, and concluding that there was no point in drawing things out, he slipped between your slick folds. 
He growled in pleasure immediately, because both the way your pussy welcomed him in with ease and the way it invitingly throbbed around him was making him unravel. It was completely insane. The power you had over him right now was lethal and he couldn’t believe how wet and snug you were just for him. 
“Oh, god,” you moaned out, because suddenly your legs on him weren’t enough and you detangled them from his shoulders to wrap around his slim waist instead so that it would be easier to lock your arms around him as well. 
It took a long moment for Jisung to will himself to open his eyes, because they had been winced closed since the moment he felt you tightening around him. He looked you in the eyes. “Is this okay?” he asked softly. 
You nodded your head. His cock was long and thick and veiny and everything in between. You were in a world between heaven and earth, elevating to the gods and struggling to stay grounded. “It’s perfect, baby. Fuck me just like that.”
Jisung felt dizzy. He knew he had been right in choosing you. It wasn’t every girl that could leave him on the cusp of insanity with both her throat and her pussy, and he was still reeling from the head you’d given him. His whole body was scalding with lust and passion as he reaped pleasure from your body with every labored thrust. 
You couldn’t get enough how he felt stroking against your walls and it showed in the way you were kneading and gushing around his cock. The tension in the air was exhilarating, throttling. You grappled his forearms to keep him close, not wanting to be separated when he was fucking you this good. 
“Can you say my name?” Jisung asked, his voice thick with desire. 
“Jisung,” you called out softly, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts in a perfect sync. You simply couldn’t help yourself. This would be your undoing. 
Jisung swore underneath his breath, unable to control the way his stammering hips reacted to the hint of breathlessness in your voice, and smoothed his palms over your beautiful, bare body. He ran his fingers over your cheek, your neck, your chest and your thighs. 
He knew he needed to make you come if he cared about not absolutely humiliating himself, because he was going to unravel in a matter of minutes. With that thought, he stuck his hand between your legs and thumbed your clit, asking, “How does that feel?”
You cried out his name again, shuddering with sensitivity. Your heart was hammering in your chest and pounding in your ears and the throbbing between your legs was brutal. If he was trying to finish you, it was working. You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer. 
Jisung took that as a sign that you liked it and he continued rubbing the sensitive nub, all the while giving you those long, deep strokes you seemed to be enjoying. You couldn’t breathe through the ecstasy. The way he was stretching you out and bringing you high made you feel as if you could choke. 
You trembled beneath him, torn between taking his cock and arching away from the pleasure. “Oh my god. Fuck. I’m gonna come,” you said, feeling the sweat clinging to your skin. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was lying about being a virgin. 
That drew a grunt out of Jisung in anticipation. He didn’t stop touching your clit, didn’t stop stroking your sweet spot. “You gonna come for me?”
You nodded your head vigorously. The rhythm of his thrusts and the relentlessness of his hand between your legs was going to make you see stars. Of that you were certain. Your mouth hung open, gasping for breath, struggling to breathe in the stuffy air. 
Then it finally rammed into you like a freight train and you let out a mangled cry of Jisung’s name as you reached your peak. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. You begged for mercy, overcome. Undone. Your face tensed and you throbbed around his cock over and over, your entire body unstill. 
When you tried to squirm away from it, Jisung held you securely in his arms so that you had no option but to take the pleasure he was giving you, and everything about it made you feel faint. 
He only released you when you went slack against the sheets, the most empty look in your stare as if your soul had been completely snatched from your body, and he couldn’t but moan. God fucking damn. 
Jisung kept fucking you through your orgasm, knowing that his was right around the corner, especially with how you had clamped around him like a noose as you came and the soft moans you were making as he tried to get himself off. It was classic mutually assured destruction. 
You were hyper aware of the wet sound of his hips smacking into yours echoing out on the walls, even wetter now that you had orgasmed on his cock. Knowing the effect he had on you somehow turned you on. You were still trying to collect yourself after having one hell of an orgasm, throwing your arms around his body again. 
“Mm. Jisung, come. I want you to come,” you purred, rubbing your hands down his back. 
Jisung was losing his mind. He knew he was a goner the second you said that and thus he begrudgingly withdrew from your soaked pussy, flipped you onto your stomach, and started to stroke himself the rest of the way with his fist. 
In a matter of seconds, he was groaning so close to and simultaneously too far from your ear, landing a stripe of his cum on your ass as he winced his eyes closed for the nth time. You looked behind you in time to see his face tensing and his lips parted in a perfect deep moan that had you clenching around nothing.
Jisung dropped beside you like a deadweight and tried to gather his breath. His mind was staggering from the orgasm and the tight feel of your cunt around his cock and he wasn’t going to be capable of thinking straight for the next hour or so. 
When you at last willed yourself to move, you brushed the hair out of his face and asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Jisung replied, nodding. “Are you?”
“I’m good,” you told him, grinning from ear to ear. You were hoping he wouldn’t leave without your number. The sex was a little too good not to happen again. 
Jisung bobbed his head again. He slowly sat up, knowing his head would spin if he got up too fast, and said, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”
You hummed in response, watching his back as he grabbed his pants and stepped out of the room. 
When he was in the bathroom, Jisung whipped out his phone from the pocket of his pants and texted his group chat. 
jisung: just lost my virginity for the 28th time not that i’m counting
mark: lmfaooo how long are these girls gon fall for that shit 
jeno: for real, he lies more than jaemin
jaemin: ntm on me. but i’m impressed he’s kept it up for this long 
haechan: come on. all he has to do is stutter and they’re like aweeee jisungie wungie is your cock heavy? here let me hold that for you
Jisung rolled his eyes and put his phone away. All he knew was the sex was amazing and he was coming back for seconds; you would be the perfect place to dump his cum before the start of November. 
And he wasn’t losing.
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