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frostimochi · 15 days ago

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resolutions

(logan howlett x reader)

summary: You and Logan attend a New Years party hosted by Wade. With the countdown to midnight, you both get caught up in the moment and share an intimate moment with each other.

word count: 2.4k

author's note: i unironically had a dream about this the other night, so of course i had to share with the class, days earlier than planned. this takes place a year after deadpool & wolverine. enjoy! :>

find it on ao3 here

. . .

New Years was awfully unpredictable for you. Every year seemed to bring a different mix of highs and lows, leaving you wondering whether the holiday was even worth celebrating. This year, you didn’t even plan to—until Wade showed up with an invitation to his apartment against your will, promising the "social event of the decade." Against your better judgment, you agreed, dragging Logan along as your buffer for whatever insanity awaited. After all, how bad could it be?

It turned out, predictably, to be very bad.

The party was chaotic, as expected when Wade was involved. Streamers hung haphazardly from the ceiling, balloons were scattered across the floor, and someone had already popped open a bottle of champagne—two hours early. The stereo blasted a mix of '80s rock and whatever Wade had decided was "party music," which helped to create an unforgettable experience. And not in a good way.

Surrounding the room, couples were unable to keep their hands to themselves, unflatteringly in your direction. One group of friends were drunkenly laughing as they took selfies under a sagging strand of broken lights, while others swayed together to the mismatched beat of Wade’s horrendous playlist. You watched everything unfold, while Dogpool sat on your lap, constantly begging you for more cuddles.

Logan sat on the couch beside you, opening a bottle of beer, his expression a mix of irritation and mild amusement. He never wanted to come, but you’d convinced him. And of course, how could he say no? The promise of decent company and free booze was enough to get him to tag along. And though he wouldn't say it out loud, he also secretly loved spending time with you.

As Wade danced dramatically in the corner among the rest, Logan shot you a look that said, "This is your fault."

You laughed at his expression, your hands still on Dogpool as you nudged his arm.

"Come on, admit it. You’re having a little fun."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Watching Wade do... whatever the hell that is? Sure, a riot."

"It’s interpretive dance," Wade called out, spinning in a circle before collapsing dramatically onto the floor. "I’m expressing the tragedy of running out of nachos."

Logan rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a barely there smile. You caught it and grinned.

“Come here, Mary Puppins! Daddy has a surprise for you!” Wade shouted, diving toward you and grabbing Dogpool out of your lap before you could protest.

You blinked, hands still frozen in mid-air. "What the hell, Wade? She’s comfortable!"

Wade cradled Dogpool dramatically, making kissy faces at her. "Oh, but I have something better," he said in a sing-song voice. "A little treat she’ll never forget."

Logan raised an eyebrow from where he sat, grasping onto his beer bottle while watching the scene unfold. "Oh boy.”

You sighed, already knowing this wouldn’t end well. "I swear, if you try to feed her something weird—"

"Don’t worry," Wade interrupted with a grin. “I made her something special, to dedicate my first year with Puppins here, of course.”

"Let me guess," you said, crossing your arms. "You’re feeding her leftover pizza crusts and ranch dressing?"

Wade’s face lit up. "Are you shitting me? I’ve got something way better than that!" With that, he dug into the pocket of his absurdly tight pants and pulled out a tiny, half-melted sandwich. You swore that you could see a tiny bit of mold in it.

"Behold, a hot dog sandwich! You know, for dogs, because they deserve the best."

Logan stared at the sad creation in disbelief. "That’s just a hot dog in a bun. For you."

"Fuck no!" Wade grinned, holding the sandwich up like it was the Holy Grail. "This is an exclusive Dogpool meal—made with delicate care!"

Logan let out a low chuckle as Dogpool tried to squirm free from Wade’s arms, clearly more interested in anything but what her own owner had in store for her.

You grinned at Logan. "It’s a shame. This could have been a bonding moment for the two of them.”

Wade, completely unfazed by Dogpool's lack of enthusiasm, tried to coax her into taking a bite, which ended up with him chasing her around the apartment.

"Come on, sweetie! You can’t say no to this!”

"Guess Dogpool's smarter than all of us," Logan muttered, taking a swig of his beer as Wade continued his one-dog food fight.

You chuckled to yourself as you watched Wade flailing around the place, bumping into others without a care in the world. Logan’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile, something that only appeared when he knew you were genuinely amused.

"Well, looks like I haven’t completely ruined your night," Logan remarked dryly, leaning back into the couch and taking another sip of his beer. His eyes stayed on you, still holding the faint smile on his face.

You nudged him gently with your elbow. "You’re enjoying this more than you thought you would."

His gaze flickered away for a moment before he gave a small nod, the corner of his mouth twitching again. "Maybe a little," he muttered, clearly not wanting to give you the satisfaction of admitting it outright.

. . .

As the night rolled on, a few more guests trickled in, and the energy of the room continued ebbing and flowing. Wade was missing for a bit, which kept things steady for a while. Logan stayed close to you, content to observe rather than participate. You didn’t mind; his dry commentary on the festivities kept you entertained.

You checked your watch for a moment. It was 11:48 pm. Leaning back in your seat, your eyes drifted back to Logan, wanting to start a conversation amidst the awkward silence.

"So, what’s your resolution?" you asked him as the clock neared midnight.

Logan’s gaze flicked to you. "Don’t do resolutions."

"Why not?"

"What’s the point? People make ‘em and break ‘em in the same week."

"Not everyone," you said. "Some people actually stick to them."

"You?" he asked, tilting his head. "What’s yours?"

You went into thought for a moment. You? A new year's resolution? Every time you’ve attempted to stick with one, it always ended up blowing up in your face. If there was anything you wanted more than anything to succeed in, it would probably be to get with Logan. Of course, the concept of it was foreign, but you fell for him the minute you met him. You knew that under the circumstances of what the two of you have been through, there was no chance you could tell him how you felt, or know if he reciprocated the same way.

But maybe it was time to put that all behind. A new year was approaching after all.

There was a long pause before you responded.

"To... take more risks, I guess."

Logan’s lips quirked. "Risks, huh? Like coming to a party with this crowd?"

"Sure," you said with a laugh. "Your turn."

He shook his head jokingly. “Same as you.”

Before you could press him further, Wade appeared, clapping his hands loudly. "Alright, people! Ten minutes to midnight! Time to get your New Year’s smooch plans in order. No shame in making deals, folks."

Everyone around the room had somebody close to them for the big countdown. It made you glance back at Logan. "You got a lucky someone?"

He gave you a look that made your stomach flip, but he said nothing. Instead, he took another sip of his beer, shaking his head.

A heavy sigh escaped you as you stood up, glancing around one last time. It seemed like nothing was going to change tonight. You made your way towards the kitchen, grabbing a drink to settle the quiet disappointment that had settled in your chest.

. . .

As the countdown began, the room filled with excitement. People paired off, others grabbed sparklers from a box Wade had inexplicably found, and you felt a small pang of awkwardness as you realized you didn’t have a plan for the midnight kiss. You hadn’t thought much of it; you’d figured it wasn’t a big deal.

"Ten!" Wade’s voice boomed over the music, causing the entire room to erupt into excitement.

People cheered and clinked glasses as the countdown began in full force. You could hear the muffled echo of it coming from every direction, but your focus remained on the drink in your hand, the sudden unease gnawing at you.

"Nine!" Wade continued, getting even louder. You shifted uncomfortably, your eyes darting to the couples already pairing up, lips ready for the tradition. It was just a kiss, right? A simple tradition, nothing more. But why did it pang your heart this much?

"Eight!"

The countdown sped on, the crowd growing louder, more energized. Your heart rate picked up in a way you couldn’t explain.

"Seven!"

You turned your head, glancing over your shoulder to the bar, then to the group by the windows, still holding your drink. But your mind was far from the surroundings. You hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t thought much about it until now. The idea of a midnight kiss had always felt trivial before, but tonight it seemed to matter for some reason you couldn’t grasp.

"Six!"

You looked around for something to distract you, anything to break the tension building in your chest. But as your gaze shifted around the room, you realized that Logan had somehow made his way closer to you, inching his way through the crowd, his quiet presence unnoticed by you as you remained lost in your own swirling thoughts.

"Five!"

The countdown ticked on, but your awareness narrowed to just the space between you and Logan. You felt a presence beside you, and for a moment, you didn’t even realize it was him until you looked up—his steady, unreadable eyes meeting yours. The air felt different, and you couldn’t tell if it was just the alcohol or something else entirely.

"Four!"

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver. You felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach, but there was a softness in his eyes that made everything else fade. The crowd continued to cheer, to count down, but all you could hear was the steady beat of your own heart, drowning out the noise.

"Three!"

Logan's hand brushed against yours. Deliberate, yet gentle, and the contact sent a small spark racing up your arm. You couldn’t help but look at him, a question in your eyes. Was this... real?

"Two!"

Logan’s face was in front of you, his hand reaching up to your face, his touch warm and steady against your skin. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, your heart racing at a pace you hadn’t expected. His thumb gently brushed over your cheekbone, a tender gesture that only made everything feel more overwhelming.

The countdown faded into the background as his face inched closer. Your thoughts scrambled, but there was only one certainty you understood. The way Logan was looking at you, the way everything seemed to quiet around you.

You didn’t pull away. You didn’t need to. For the first time that night, you felt grounded.

“One!”

The room erupted in cheers, but all you felt was Logan’s lips on yours. Warm, firm, and completely unexpected. The kiss was brief, but it lingered, a moment suspended in time.

When you pulled back, his eyes searched yours, an expression of quiet uncertainty mingled with something more. His lips were slightly parted, as if he was trying to process the same rush of emotions you were. Neither of you spoke. You simply stood there, close enough to feel each other’s breath, the world around you seeming to slow down even further. His gaze softened, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. But he didn’t say anything—not yet.

The noise of the room swirled back into focus, but it felt distant, like a muffled backdrop to what you both were experiencing in that exact moment. Logan’s hand was still resting against your cheek. Warm, like it had always belonged there.

"Didn’t think I’d be here, doing this," Logan muttered under his breath, his eyes still locked onto yours. There was something vulnerable in his voice, and it made your heart beat faster.

Before you could respond, he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as though trying to dismiss the weight of the moment. "Wade’s probably gonna never let us live this down," he added, the ghost of a grin curling his lips.

You couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. "You don’t have to worry about him. I’ll take the blame," you said, the tension between you easing slightly.

Logan looked at you, his gaze more serious now, though there was still a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes. "I’m not so sure I mind…”

There was a pause of silence, but neither of you moved.

“Guess this is what happens when I let you talk me into things,” he said, his voice teasing but warm.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “I’m not complaining.”

He gave you a half-shrug, a small, hesitant smile pulling at the corner of his lips. " I’ve been thinking about this. Longer than I should’ve."

A mixture of surprise and warmth flooded through you. You could feel your cheeks flush, but the sudden honesty in his words was enough to settle the fluttering nerves in your chest.

"I’ve been thinking about it too," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, the truth coming out more easily than you'd expected. "Longer than I realized.”

His thumb gently traced the edge of your jaw, a gesture both comforting and intimate, as he let out a smirk.

"Guess we’ve been a little slow on the uptake, huh?"

“Let’s leave that for last year.”

You smiled, a soft, genuine thing, and his gaze softened in return. Neither of you needed to say more. You were here now, standing close, hearts open in a way they hadn’t been before. And maybe that was enough.

As the noise from the crowd picked up again, people shouting and celebrating the turn of the new year, Logan leaned in a little closer, his voice just for you.

“Happy New Year,” he murmured.

"Happy New Year," you replied softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. The rest of the world seemed to fade away again, the cheers and music just background noise.

And you were right where you needed to be.

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #x men #x men imagine #logan howlett imagine #wolverine imagine #reader insert #marvel #marvel imagine #logan x reader #fic #ao3 #new year #holiday season #festive #fluff

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bella-goths-wife · 10 months ago

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I really enjoy your work with the Vees and Sound manipulation Reader, I’m curious about how Alastor would react to the fact the Vees having a ‘pet’ with that power?

Alastors reaction to the Vs pet

Warnings: alastor, violence, terrible foreshadowing, poor reader is uncomfortable

Alastor had actually met you before you became the Vs pet, just before his 7 year disappearance

You were a fresh soul in hell and just figuring out how to survive and use your ability to your advantage

It was quite similar to how you met vox, you were unaware of how powerful alastor was and you tried to surprise attack him with your ability so you could rob him

You used your sound manipulation to create a loud noise in his ears to try and shock him but a shadowed hand grabbed you before you could do anything more

“Afraid that won’t work on me, my dear” he said with an irritated grin as he turned to you “now, why don’t you tell me your name and what you think your doing”

His shadows had tightened around you as you hurriedly explained your situation and begged for mercy

There was something so familiar about you to alastor, your eyes almost looked identical to someone he once knew

He examined you carefully and took in your appearance as you begged and couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity that seemed to come from looking at your eyes

“Well my dear, considering your also a fellow lover of music I’ll forgive you for your ignorance” alastor had said with a grin as his shadow let go of you and you fell to the ground “come along darling, I wish to discuss many things with you”

He bought you dinner and watched as you ate it with gusto, realising how hungry you must have been

He had you explain your ability to him in great detail with the promise of more food if you did so

He noted that it was unusually generous of him, but he just couldn’t shake his curiosity

After you explained everything to him, he simply nodded and with a click of his fingers he gave you more appropriate clothes to keep you warm

He gave you the simple advice of learning who to charm and who to steal from, promising you that he believed you had the ability to charm the entire pentagram of you used your abilities correctly

After that he disappeared and a few years later you worked for vox

Upon alastors return, you crossed his mind a few times a week as he wondered what happened to you

It wasn’t until he saw you on angel dusts cellphone and questioned him about it

He said that what alastor saw was a post on velvette’s social media, and the post featured a picture of you dressed in lavish clothes that matched velvettes

Velvette had her hand resting on your shoulder as she commanded you to pose, and alastor couldn’t help the look of disgust that crossed his face

In truth, after hearing of Charlie’s hotel he had hoped to find you and enlist your help for his own entertainment

But to see you with the Vs, who exploited your ability in all the wrong ways, he felt nothing but more disgust and resentment towards them

When he said you should charm people so you could survive, he meant people who were worth more than those tacky Vs

And the worst part of it was that he still felt some type of familiarity from you, and his intrigue wouldn’t let him just let him let it go

So don’t worry darling, alastor will find a way to speak to you somehow

He has to, he needs to figure out what connection you have to him to make you so intriguing

And to find out why only you and him shared music based abilities

#hazbin hotel vox #hazbin velvette #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin valentino #hazbin vox #hazbin spoilers #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #yandere vox x reader #vox x reader #velvette x reader #yandere velvette x reader #yandere valentino #valentino x reader #alastor x reader #yandere alastor x reader

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fyodior · 7 months ago

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FUCK YOU, FUCK ME!

pairing: toji fushiguro x gn!reader (no anatomy described)

cw: pegging toji !!!! reader uses a strap, toji is hesitant but goes along with it and ends up LOVING it. anal (m!receiving), missionary and doggy, minor orgasm control, etc. kind of glorified anal so keep that in mind. MINORS DONT INTERACT ILL BITE

notes: this is a sponsored fic for @ficsforgaza, and im so so excited to finally be posting it!! (other wips available for sponsor here) go check out some other great creators on the blog too!! and this is my first time back writing in a bit so pls be kind :") divider by @/cafekitsune!

wc: 2.8k

“Toji, sweetheart, you need to relax.”

“Fuck- I’m fuckin’ trying,” your lover grunts, wincing and sucking in a sharp breath. “I’m not fuckin’ used to things inside’a me like you are.” You choose to ignore that last quip.

Only half a very well lubed finger deep into his tight ass, you figure this is going to be a long night, but you know it’ll be so, so, worth it - for both you and him.

The day you first proposed trying anal to Toji, he was all for it - excited even. Until he found out that you meant he’d be the one receiving, and his face immediately fell.

“No. Nope. Nothin’s goin’ up my shitter,” he had responded, making you roll your eyes and groan. You swore up and down that a prostate orgasm could be life changing for males, but he flat out refused for months. It wasn’t until your birthday when you promised him he didn’t have to buy you a gift if he agreed to try anal just once - and then he was all for it.

He was hesitant as the two of you scrolled through sex toy websites to search for the best possible strap and dildo for him. Pointing out ones you thought he might like only made his face contort in discomfort, haunted by the thought of something going inside his asshole. The list of “hard no’s” grew and grew the longer you searched: nothing longer than 6 inches, nothing girthier than a circumference of 5 inches, no skin colors because that felt too real, and no balls. Toji Fushiguro was a hard man to please.

Finally, finally, after months of convincing, hours of online shopping, and a few more days following the arrival of the package, did you have your lover laid out in front of you, legs spread and hole awaiting. It was the sweetest fucking sight in the world, and you were so grateful you maintained enough patience to get to this moment. Good things really do come to those who wait.

The harness was already strapped around your waist, painfully eager to attach the dildo and get to it, but of course there was ample prep required, especially for someone completely new to anal. Per your request, he had showered prior to you getting home from work and had tried to clean himself out a little bit, which you were very grateful for. Now you were tasked with stretching and prepping his hole. Your mouth watered at the thought of it.

Instructing him to lay on his back, for no other reason than you wanted to see his face, you press his thick, sinewy thighs apart and settle between them. You had done your best to create a gentle, relaxing environment in your shared bedroom, with the lights dimmed low, a few candles flickering on the shelf, and soft music playing from the TV. Yet still, the man was as tense as a clenched fist.

The goal was to get him a little worked up and wanting it, so you start with a little foreplay. Kissing him softly, you jerk him off slowly, getting him hard enough that he wants to cum. His hard cock lays neglected on his belly as he rests on his back, propped up against a horde of pillows, and you could honestly cum just at the sight of him. Toji is fucking beautiful.

But now it was finally time. After dousing your fingers in a thick, goopy layer of lube, you press the tip of your ring finger against his puckered hole, and he immediately flinches.

“Baby, I promise I won’t make this hurt, you have to breathe, though,” you plead, using your other hand to massage his thigh. “Here - take a deep breath with me.”

Motioning for him to follow, you suck in air, watching him closely. After rolling his eyes and deciding he’ll finally play along, he mimics you. The second he releases the breath he was holding, his body deflating, you take the chance and slip in your finger down to just the first knuckle.

He immediately gasps, furrowing his brows and grunting. “Hey! You fuckin’ tricked me!” he accuses, indignant as a little kid.

You chuckle in response. “It got it in, didn’t it?”

You stay like that for a bit, wriggling the tip of your finger purely just to start getting him used to the feeling of something inside him, watching his expressions closely.

“Does it feel good at all, babe?”

It takes Toji a moment to respond, clearly chewing on the idea in his brain. “It… it’s weird,” he finally says, pursing his lips. “It just feels strange - not… bad, though. Yet.”

“Good,” you nod. “Good. Just hang in there, and you’ll feel good soon, okay? Promise.”

He just grumbles before gripping his cock, fisting it a few times before you smack his hand away.

“Hey!” he gasps, jaw wide open. “It’s my dick!”

“No. I said no touching yourself yet,” you bite back. When he looks like he’s about to pitch a fit, you decide to throw in a “please, baby? For me?” and he backs down. Toji is nothing if not a sucker for you.

After warning him, you push your finger in to the second knuckle. He sucks in a sharp breath, but makes no protest - a good sign. Soon, you have your whole finger inside him, and he’s panting a bit.

“See, baby? I knew you could take it,” you smile softly.

“Whatever,” Toji grumbles, avoiding your gaze. He can deny it all he wants, but he can’t hide the fact that his dick twitched every time you pushed your finger in a little further. “Let’s hurry this up and get it over with.”

Your eyes go wide at that, but you nod. “Your wish is my command, sir,” you smirk.

And just like that, your whole pointer finger has bullied its way inside him.

“Fuck!” Toji coughs, lurching forward. “You can’t do that!”

“Oh, but I can,” you grin impishly. “Just lay back and let me work you open, okay?”

Now that you have two fingers inside him, you can actually make some headway. Squirting some more lube around his entrance, you start to very slowly fuck him with your fingers, pumping them in and out at a snail’s pace. Toji stays silent, still refusing to meet your gaze, but his cheeks are cherry red and he’s gripping the sheets with a tight fist.

The quiet music coming from the TV hums softly in the background, and you hope it’s relaxing him at least a little as you slowly spread your fingers apart, trying to scissor them open to loosen the muscles and stretch him out. Toji’s breath hitches when you spread them even past when his hole starts to resist, and you smirk. You guess he likes the feeling of being full just as much as you do.

Time passes painfully slowly while you work him open with your fingers, aching to finally get inside him. To finally fuck Toji in the way he deserves. Finally, you feel like he’s prepped enough to adequately take the strap. It might hurt a tiny bit, but what’s the harm in that?

“Okay, sweetheart,” you start as you fit the jet black dildo into the O-ring connected to the strap. “You okay on your back like this, or do you wanna take it from the back?”

His face burns bright red at the thought of you fucking him in doggy, so he just shakes his head. “ ‘m fine like this,” he mumbles, and you nod.

Once again settling between his thighs, you wrap a hand around his cock and pump it lazily, offering him a small smile.

“You look so pretty laid out like this for me, legs spread and ass spread so wide, ready to take my cock,” you muse, mind in overdrive.

“S-st-stop,” Toji squeaks out, biting his fist. He won’t admit it, he can’t admit it, he’ll die before admitting how much that turns him on. He can’t admit how his ass has started to ache for something to fill it back up again, even though you’re more than willing to oblige.

“Can’t, baby boy,” you frown, leaning in for a kiss. “Not when I finally have you like this.”

The brief kisses seem to relax the tense man just a bit, melting against your lips and kissing back hungrily. You could’ve sworn you caught a just fuck me already under his breath, but he’ll refuse it until his deathbed.

When you make eye contact with him and he nods, you press the well-lubed tip of the strap against his hole, watching with stars in your eyes as it resists, but still tries to spread open. A cough can be heard from near the headboard, but no protests so far. Soft whines fight to escape Toji’s throat as you push in each centimeter of the silicone cock, face burning hot and red. About halfway in, you pause, giving the man a moment to breathe and acclimatize to the intrusion inside him. He’s grateful for it too, huffing and groaning and squirming as he tries to find a more comfortable position, but there is none. Not when there’s something hard shoved up his ass. You just stay as patient as a saint, massaging his muscly thighs and running your hands up his torso, trying your best not to lean too far forward and inch any more of the cock inside him. As a treat, you give his throbbing, aching cock a few tugs with your spit coated palm, and he lets out a sigh.

One more moment of eye contact, and more nod, and you push your hips a little farther forward. Suddenly, Toji lurches forward again.

“Gah!!” he cries out, eyes wide and heaving. “What- what was that? What did you do?” The accusatory questions only make you laugh, leaning in to kiss him sweetly.

“Must be your sweet spot - your prostate,” you chuckle. “Here - let’s try again.”

Pulling out a few inches and thrusting in again has Toji sputtering and groaning all over again. You can’t help but break out into a wild smirk. This is exactly what you wanted. Not only for yourself, as a perfect view to marvel at and take in, but for him - Toji deserves this, deserves to feel good.

Leaning forward, hands braced on either side of his chest, you muster up all your strength and thrust hard. This time his head is falling back against the pillow as he cries out with a call of your name, too.

“It’s all the way inside, sweetheart,” you smile, marveling at how the silicone balls are pressed firm against his ass. “How do you feel?”

“G-good,” he nods, gulping. “Just- let’s just do this- please,” Toji chokes out.

This version of Toji, one so vulnerable and desperate, is one you’ve never seen before. Not even when he’s fucking you - he’ll get desperate to get his dick wet, sure, but this is… different. Sweeter. His dark, unruly hair is matted to his forehead with sweat, and his chest is heaving in anticipation. You simply have no choice than to give him exactly what he wants.

Inching your strap out to where the tip is almost dangling out of his hole, you thrust all the way back in, relishing in the way he once again moans. His reaction is so much sweeter than you could’ve imagined, and you simply can’t help the way you go fucking crazy. Your thrusts pick up speed, anchoring yourself by gripping the sheets hard as you erratically fuck your lover’s ass. The both of you are complete messes, groaning and whining and gasping almost theatrically, chasing a beautiful high.

“Harder,” Toji grunts, pulling you in by your cheeks for a messy kiss as his thick legs circle your waist. “Fuck! Fe-feels so fucking good, fuck, fuck fuck…” he blabbers, your face still in his tight grip. You couldn’t give less of a shit, just want to see him falling apart even more, so you give him exactly what he asks for.

Wet sounds of lube and skin on skin echo throughout the bedroom, mixed with the tunes of both your moaning and groaning. An ache is blossoming in your thigh muscles and you can feel yourself losing stamina but you refuse to give in just yet, using every ounce of your strength to piston your hips in and out of him. Toji can’t help but clench tight around your cock, you can feel it by the increased resistance, and you truly think you must have died and gone to heaven.

“Toji, sweetheart,” you call, trying to grab the man’s attention. “Get on your hands and knees for me, okay?”

For the first time likely ever, the man does as he’s asked with no protest. He hisses a bit as you slip all the way out of his tight heat, but scrambles to flip over and present his ass for you. There’s no way this is your Toji, not when he’s acting like this - but you decide you’ll allow yourself to indulge in this doppelganger, just for tonight.

Some adjustments to his stance are required, as he is taller than you, but you soon find a comfortable position so that your hips can be flush against his ass. His throbbing cock and balls hang heavy at this angle, dangling between his thighs, but he doesn’t seem to mind. At this angle, you have a much better view of his beautiful ass, using two hands to spread his cheeks apart and stare with a slack jaw at his abused hole, puffy and throbbing. It’s mind boggling that you were inside him. And will be again. With one languid thrust, you’re bottoming out again and pressing his face into the pillow, making him cry out.

This angle, while depriving you of your lover’s beautiful face, is much easier for your task. Having his ass presented for you like this makes fucking him a breeze - so you take, and take, and take, and take. Pump in and out of his tight, wet hole, both of your bodies trembling as you’re overcome with so much emotion and overstimulation. You feel like a bitch in heat with the way you’re rutting into him, bottoming out with almost every thrust.

“Fuck,” Toji spits. “I’m gonna fucking cum.”

Your eyes go wide at the realization. He’s going to cum? Just from getting fucked? Holy shit.

“Yeah, baby? Wanna cum? Feels so good getting fucked, huh?” you tease, continuing to fuck him hard and deep. “Want me to help you out, or so how long it takes for you to cum just from getting your ass fucked? Hm?” Your own words are lost on you, seemingly coming from a place of pure lust and not from your rational mind.

“Please help,” Toji chokes out. And he’s been so good, not touching his cock this entire time, taking your cock so well, that you decide to do as he asks.

Your pace slows down some as you wrap a hand around his aching, angry red cock, thumbing at the tip and using his tacky precum to lube up your hand some. It only takes one, two, three strokes before he’s gasping and spurting thick, hot ropes of cum onto the bed, whole body tensing as he cries out louder than you’ve ever heard before. He collapses onto the bed, and you take the message, pulling your strap out from his abused hole. No words come from his mouth, only heaves and gasps for air as he tries to come to terms with what just occurred. You don’t nag him at all, just flop down next to him and push his sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes.

“Did that feel good, baby? Hm?” you ask, smiling softly at him. That’s truly all you ever wanted. You truly couldn’t give much of a shit about your own desires and lust - all you ever, ever wanted in this world was for your lover to feel good.

Toji gulps. “....Yeah. Felt real good.” It’s obvious he’s exhausted, only moments from passing out. You can’t blame him.

“Did so, so good for me, sweetheart,” you coo, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Now get some rest. It’s hard getting fucked, isn’t it?” That makes him chuckle weakly.

“Fuck you,” he rasps, but he has a lopsided smile on his face. “Love you. Really. Thank you.”

Your heart soars and you smile widely. “Of course, sweetheart. Always. I love you. Now please get some rest so we can go for a second round.”

#toji x reader #toji smut #jjk smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji imagine #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #toji x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader

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sushiyuzu · 3 months ago

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mr. sneaky pants

warning: fluff — you find soft!sylus in the kitchen, trying to stealthily eat your last cookie 🍪

dragon's heart (sylus fanfic book)

- backup acc: @blushpawss

“i’m telling you, sylus, there’s no way you can sneak that cookie without me noticing.” you say, watching him try to tiptoe past you in the kitchen.

sylus turns, his silver hair catching the light, and he smirks, crimson eyes sparkling with mischief. “you underestimate my stealth skills. i’m basically a ninja,” he says, attempting to look serious.

you raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “a ninja who can’t even grab a cookie without being caught?”

he rolls his eyes playfully. “okay, fine. but the cookie is worth it.”

just as he reaches for the cookie jar, you take a step forward, blocking his path. “not so fast, mr. sneaky-pants.”

sylus stops mid-reach, raising an eyebrow at you. “mr. sneaky-pants? really?” he repeats, clearly amused by the nickname.

“yep!” you say, grinning. “it fits, don’t you think? you’re always sneaking around trying to grab snacks or protect me from imaginary cookie thieves.”

with a mock sigh, he glances dramatically at the ceiling. “why must you make this so difficult? you’re ruining my midnight snack plans.”

you huff—almost laughing, unable to keep a straight face. “and you’re ruining my diet! what makes you think you can just waltz in here and take MY cookies?”

he raises his hands in mock surrender. “fine, fine. how about we share it? teamwork makes the dream work, right?”

“teamwork? more like you’ll eat all of it,” you tease, but the thought of sharing the cookie makes your heart flutter.

sylus steps closer, his expression suddenly serious. “i promise, i won’t eat it all. besides, i’ll need your help to fight off any cookie thieves.”

you roll your eyes.

cookie thieves. seriously? again?

you giggle, your heart racing a little as he moves even closer, the playful banter creating a warm atmosphere between you. “okay, fine. but only if you let me have the first bite.”

“deal,” he replies, grinning, and together, you both reach for the cookie jar.

as you pull it down, it slips from your hands and tumbles to the floor, the sound echoing in the quiet kitchen. the two of you freeze for a moment, then burst into laughter as you both scramble to grab the cookie pieces.

“well, this is one way to start a midnight snack,” you chuckle, trying to catch your breath.

sylus shakes his head, still laughing. “next time, i’m bringing the cookies to you. no more sneaking around.”

you smile at him, your heart feeling light. “sounds good to me. but you’re still going to have to train your stealth skills.”

“i’ll practice,” he promises, a soft look in his eyes. “for you, anything.”

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pascaloverx · 1 month ago

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HAUNTED

Summary: You awaken from a two-year coma to find that Detective Lois has been eagerly awaiting your recovery, believing you might have witnessed something crucial to catching a serial killer. What you didn’t expect is to learn that she suspects your doctor of being the murderer—and even more shockingly, it appears that you are married to him. Now, you must uncover your lost memories and find out who Charlie Mayhew truly is to you.

Author's Note: Yes, I'm writing another fanfic featuring Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s character from Grotesquerie. The characters belong to the universe created by Ryan Murphy in the series Grotesquerie (2024). This fanfic will include violence, strong language, and adult content. It will portray the character Charlie Mayhew as a doctor. I hope you enjoy the fanfic, but there's nothing certain about its future. If you like this fanfic, please interact, leave comments. This author will be grateful for any interaction.

TWO FOUR

THREE

After a long bath, during which you took your time exploring every detail of the lavish bathroom, you found yourself standing before your wardrobe. It was massive, with mirrored doors that reflected your every movement. The clothes inside were mostly high-end—elegant dresses, tailored blazers, and pieces that leaned toward the extravagant. After some deliberation, you chose a red dress that bordered on being too seductive, with a daring slit that revealed your legs up to your thighs.

Tonight, you wanted to capture your husband’s attention even more. Once dressed, you carefully applied perfume and styled your hair, slipping into a pair of high heels that, while uncomfortable, perfectly complemented the dress. As you stood before the full-length mirror, you questioned whether the effort was worth it. You weren’t entirely sure if you remembered how to do makeup, but you made an attempt—enhancing your lashes with mascara and applying a bold red lipstick to match the dress.

When you finally left the master bedroom on the second floor, a nagging curiosity tugged at your thoughts. What was inside Charlie’s office that he was so intent on keeping locked? But your husband would be home soon, and the anticipation of dinner with him distracted you as you descended the stairs, feeling a flutter of excitement. Mary, the housekeeper, greeted you warmly and kindly offered to give you a tour of the house. She was an older woman with a sprightly demeanor and an air of maternal care. She walked you through each room, explaining their purposes and sharing small anecdotes about the home. Her warmth was comforting, and she mentioned that dinner would be ready in just a few minutes.

However, as the minutes stretched into an hour and then two, your excitement turned to unease. Charlie still hadn’t arrived. Mary, noticing your disappointment, eventually joined you for dinner, doing her best to fill the silence with polite conversation. Her sympathetic gaze was hard to ignore—it was clear she felt sorry for you.

"Mary, could you tell me where to find the key to my husband's office?" you ask, interrupting the conversation you had both been carrying on. Mary’s gaze shifts to the window, her eyes fixed on the emptiness outside, as though weighing her response.

"I really shouldn't meddle in the personal affairs of my employers," she says hesitantly, her voice soft but tinged with unease. "Just point me in the right direction, and I promise no one will ever hear a word about it," you reply, your tone gentle, almost coaxing, as you offer her a small, reassuring smile.

"Mrs. Mayhew, please don't put me in a difficult position," Mary says, her voice wavering as if she were truly torn. "I don’t remember anything, Mary. I have no awareness of my life beyond what surrounds me now. Please, help me. I beg of you," you implore, leaning forward and clasping her hand in yours. Your earnest gaze meets hers, and for a moment, she looks conflicted.

Finally, Mary sighs, her shoulders slumping as if weighed down by the burden of her decision. "There’s a drawer," she begins hesitantly, "in the last cabinet of the kitchen. It has a hidden compartment." Her words hang in the air, charged with secrecy and a hint of guilt, as she glances away, clearly regretting having spoken.

As if bound by an unspoken pact, you give Mary’s hand a gentle squeeze before leaving her seated, silently affirming her trust. You make your way to the kitchen, heart pounding in your chest as you search for the hidden compartment she described. Your fingers tremble as you fumble with the drawer, the anticipation almost unbearable. Then, with a soft click, you find it—the key.

The house is eerily quiet, save for the sound of your hurried footsteps as you ascend to the second floor. Clutching the key tightly, you waste no time unlocking the door to Charlie’s office. The moment it creaks open, you are greeted with a scene that steals the air from your lungs.

The room is a macabre gallery of horrors. A large bulletin board dominates one wall, adorned with photographs of mutilated bodies—cadavers sliced apart, their lifeless forms frozen in grotesque poses. One image depicts a body cleaved in two, while another shows a woman with her abdomen grotesquely opened; her distended belly suggests she was pregnant. Your breath catches as your eyes fall upon a photo of yourself, pinned among the others. Beneath it, in bold writing, is your name with the word "Suspect" scrawled beneath it. Not far from it is an image of Charlie, labeled "Primary Suspect."

The walls bear even more—a chilling collection of painted recreations of the crime scenes. The artistry is disturbingly exquisite, each brushstroke capturing the raw, visceral nature of the acts committed. The paintings are hauntingly lifelike, as though frozen moments from a nightmare. On the desk, amidst scattered papers, rests a dossier with your name emblazoned on the cover. It’s thick, filled with notes, photos, and what appears to be an exhaustive investigation into your life.

You carefully scrutinize every detail in the office, even though parts of your dossier have been redacted. Ensuring everything else remains undisturbed, you lock the office door behind you and descend the stairs with a fury that feels volcanic, ready to erupt. Your steps are hurried, each one fueled by the tempest of questions swirling in your mind. You want answers from Charlie—immediately. Not only about the grotesque contents of his office but also about what could have possibly been more important than dining with you tonight.

Reaching the base of the stairs, you place the key firmly into Mary’s hands. She looks at you without a word, her expression a mixture of understanding and quiet resignation.

"Mary, return this key to its proper place, and afterward, pack some of my clothing and essentials into the guest room. Once that is done, you’re dismissed for the evening," you say, your voice taut with suppressed rage. It takes all your composure to keep from snapping, your anger simmering beneath the surface—anger at your husband’s deceit, at that ghastly mural, at those haunting paintings, and most of all, at the invasion of your privacy. Mary nods silently and turns to summon Ed, who arrives shortly, adjusting his jacket as he steps into the house.

"Ed, I believe Mrs. Mayhew would like to see her husband," Mary says, her voice calm and matter-of-fact. Ed hesitates, glancing at you as though questioning whether this is wise, but your determined stride leaves no room for debate. Without waiting for further discussion, you step out of the house, your heels clicking sharply against the stone as you head toward the car. Settling into the back seat, you fasten your seatbelt.

"To the hospital," you command, your tone brooking no argument. Ed nods and starts the car, and the journey begins, the air in the vehicle heavy with your unresolved fury and the weight of the revelations awaiting confrontation.

You don’t take long to arrive at the hospital. At the reception desk, you’re informed that Dr. Mayhew is currently attending to a particular patient. Frustration wells up within you as you rack your mind for a plausible excuse to gain quicker access to Charlie. Fate, however, seems to be on your side. From across the hall, you spot your husband emerging with his patient, their conversation light and pleasant as they approach the hospital’s entrance. The moment Charlie's eyes meet yours, it’s as if he instantly senses that something is amiss. Yet, it’s not just his presence that catches your attention—it’s hers.

The woman with him feels unsettlingly familiar. You quickly piece it together: she was on the mural in Charlie’s office. If your memory serves you correctly, her photo was captioned with Detective Megan Duval alongside the words romantic past. Like a puzzle clicking into place, the realization stings.

"Darling, what are you doing here?" Charlie asks, his voice calm yet edged with unease. He steps away from Megan and approaches you, placing his hands gently on your arms as if to comfort you. But you brush him off with a sharp movement, your temper barely restrained.

"I came to confirm that Detective Lois might have been right after all. But aren’t you going to introduce us, dear husband?" you ask, your tone laced with biting sarcasm. Your eyes bore into him before flicking to Megan, whose expression hardens alongside Charlie's.

"I can introduce myself," Megan interjects, stepping forward with a measured tone. "I’m Detective Duval. I assure you, you’re jumping to conclusions. I’m here as a patient, and your husband is my doctor." She extends a hand toward you in a gesture of civility.

You glance at her outstretched hand, but the sight only fuels the jealousy roiling inside you. "Save your platitudes for someone gullible enough to believe them, Detective Duval. I won’t keep interrupting whatever this is. Have a good evening," you retort, your voice dripping with venom as you turn sharply on your heel.

Your emotions are a whirlwind—jealousy, betrayal, and anger all threatening to consume you. You think fleetingly about causing a scene but find yourself too overwhelmed to do so. You just want to leave. You make your way toward the car where Ed stands, waiting patiently. But before you can reach him, something stops you. Or rather, someone. Charlie strides past you, moving with alarming determination. Before you can react, he hoists you off the ground and unceremoniously throws you over his shoulder, completely ignoring your protests.

"What do you think you’re doing, Charlie Mayhew?" you demand, your voice seething with indignation as you struggle against his grip. He doesn’t respond immediately, his steps firm as he carries you away from the hospital doors, leaving both Megan and Ed in stunned silence.

He carries you with unwavering determination to what you assume is his car in the hospital parking lot. Despite your protests and the sharp slaps you land on his well-toned back, he doesn’t release you until he places you firmly in the back seat of the vehicle.

"If you wish to keep protesting, then fasten your seatbelt and save your anger for when we’re home," Charlie says, his voice steady yet laced with a quiet authority. He adjusts your position as best he can, ensuring you’re seated properly before closing the door with a firm click. Without another word, he circles to the driver’s side, the tension between you hanging heavy in the confined space of the car.

Without exchanging another word, Charlie drives you both home, his knuckles tight on the steering wheel and his demeanor tense. You notice his stress as he occasionally picks up his phone, typing out terse messages to someone. You make a pointed effort to ignore him, directing your focus instead to the passing scenery outside the window. It doesn’t take long before the car pulls into your driveway. The house looms ahead, quiet and still. Mary has likely already left for the evening, and Ed is nowhere to be seen, leaving no trace of having followed behind.

When Charlie parks the car, he steps out briskly and moves to your door. Without hesitation, he leans in, releasing your seatbelt with deliberate care. His face is close to yours, and the air feels charged, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you both. "I’ll be waiting for you inside," he says in a low voice, his gaze steady as it locks with yours for a lingering moment before he straightens and walks toward the house.

You take a deep breath before stepping out of the car and heading toward the house. Once inside, everything appears meticulously arranged. On the dining table sits a prepared plate of food, likely Mary’s thoughtful gesture for Charlie. However, he stands in the middle of the living room, tension radiating from him as he nervously removes his tie and lab coat.

"I’ll be sleeping in the guest room," you state firmly, your tone brooking no argument. You turn on your heel to make your way to the guest room, but Charlie��s hand shoots out, gripping yours and halting your retreat.

"While I do regret leaving you waiting tonight," he begins, his voice steady but undercut with frustration, "that does not excuse your behavior. You have crossed a line." His eyes bore into yours, the weight of his words settling heavily in the space between you.

"I crossed a line?" you counter, your voice rising with incredulity. "And where exactly is this so-called line when you're the one keeping secrets from me? Or are you really going to stand there and tell me that you and Detective Duval share nothing more than a professional relationship? That there wasn’t a single other doctor in this city she could consult? Spare me, Charlie."

Your words are sharp, cutting through the tension as you step closer, your movements circling him like a predator confronting its prey. Despite the fury simmering between you, he seems unfazed—or perhaps too confident. He takes a deliberate step toward you, his hands moving to unbutton his dress shirt, the faint rustle of fabric punctuating the charged silence. A sly, almost teasing smile tugs at the corners of his lips, breaking through the serious expression he had worn moments before. His eyebrows lift slightly, a mischievous glint lighting up his eyes as if daring you to push further.

"Are we done with the accusations, or would you like to continue?" he finally asks, his tone low and edged with amusement, even as your frustration mounts.

"I fail to see the necessity of you removing your clothing while we’re in the middle of an argument," you say, your resolve wavering slightly as your focus slips from the reason for your confrontation. "But let me make one thing clear—you will not distract me. I won’t let you deceive me, Dr. Mayhew," you add, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as you can muster, though your words carry a partial untruth. You could reveal what you found in his office, expose the secrets he's so carefully hidden. Yet you don’t. Perhaps because you’re unsure of your next move, or perhaps because a part of you is, indeed, distracted. Your eyes betray you, drawn to the sharp lines of his well-defined chest as his shirt slides from his shoulders. A twinge of frustration flares within you—not just at him, but at yourself for letting him affect you this way.

"My beloved wife, if I were having an affair with Detective Duval, I’d be far more discreet than to let the entire hospital catch wind of it. But you are correct—Megan and I do not share a purely professional relationship. She was my girlfriend before I fell in love with you," Charlie says, his tone calm yet deliberate as he shrugs off the last of his shirt and tosses it onto the sofa. "In fact, our relationship ended because I chose you. What you perceive as a sign of infidelity is nothing more than two former lovers finally reconciling after years of bitterness. Does that satisfy you?" You study him carefully, your mistrust lingering despite the ring of truth in his words. There’s a certain earnestness in his voice, one that’s difficult to ignore, but the revelation stirs unease within you.

"If that is all you have to say, I shall take my leave," you declare, turning on your heel to retreat to the guest room. Yet your attempt is futile. Charlie’s arms encircle your waist, pulling you firmly against him. His lips graze the back of your neck, planting a soft kiss before trailing down to your collarbone. His warm breath fans against your skin, unraveling any coherent thoughts from your mind.

"I would never betray you, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice low and full of conviction. "For two years, all I ever wanted was to hold you in my arms; I would never risk losing you. You and I are more than husband and wife—we are partners." His face buries itself in the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent before pressing more kisses along your skin, his path leading to your ear. You say nothing, unable to form a response, and instead turn to face him. The tension between you is palpable, burning you from within. Your fingers graze his lips, as though committing their softness to memory. His arms tighten around you, drawing you closer with unrelenting need.

You cup his face in both hands, pulling him toward you. Your lips meet his with a hunger that surprises even you, as though only he could quell the yearning deep inside. His lips are impossibly soft against yours, and you hardly register when the kiss deepens. Your tongues dance together, a gentle yet fervent battle for dominance, while his hands roam your body—caressing your waist, gripping your hips, exploring the curve of your back. He begins to tug at your dress, lifting it as if desperate to rid you of it, guiding you toward the sofa. But before he can take control entirely, you pull him down first, making him sit as you take charge.

You settle onto his lap, feeling the undeniable evidence of his desire for you grow beneath you. Your nails trace over the expanse of his chest, leaving faint red marks as you savor the warmth of his skin under your fingertips. Charlie captures your lips again with fervor, his hands firmly gripping your waist, guiding your movements against him as if ensuring you stay anchored in his embrace. The heat between you is all-consuming, maddeningly intense.

Yet, the image of him with Megan flashes in your mind—a thorn of doubt piercing through your desire. The uncertainty gnaws at you, twisting your emotions. Without thinking, you bite down on his lower lip with more force than intended. Charlie pulls back sharply, a pained groan escaping his lips as the faint taste of his blood lingers on yours. "What the hell, Y/N!" he exclaims, his voice tinged with irritation, his gaze locking onto yours with a mix of confusion and frustration.

"That, Doctor Mayhew, is what you get for testing your wife’s patience," you retort, steadying yourself as you rise from his lap, your tone cool yet charged. "Goodnight, Charlie," you add with finality, stepping away from him and heading toward the guest room, your mind a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, anger, and something you can’t quite name. Charlie calls your name a few times, his voice softer now, almost pleading, but he ultimately lets you go, leaving you to your thoughts.

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minhosbitterriver · 5 months ago

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🌧️ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍-𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ( stray kids )

❛ On a rainy evening, a deepening connection unfolds between you and Hyunjin as you explore your newfound intimacy in the cozy sanctuary of your studio apartment. Amidst clumsy yet heartfelt moments, your bond blossoms into a magical dance of tenderness and desire, celebrated under the gentle rhythm of the falling rain.

𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 18 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This piece was requested a little bit ago by my lovely 🌪️ Anon! I genuinely loved working on this purely for the awkwardness between Y/N and Hyunjin. I just feel like this is something that is not talked about enough, especially within the writing community. It's completely normal to be a bit clumsy and/or awkward the first time you have sex with someone — it doesn't mean that you or your partner is a virgin or is bad at it! Everyone's tastes when it comes to this is different so it might take a second to figure your partner out! And that's totally okay! Alright, anyway, requests are currently open! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, established relationship, it's first time Hyunjin fingers you, neither of you are virgins, it's awkward and a little clumsy at the beginning, very fluffy, please let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

It had been a Saturday to remember, one that etched itself into the tapestry of your memories, marked by the presence of Hyunjin. His charismatic charm had woven itself through your days for the past month, casting a spell of enchantment that lingered in the air. Though the span of time you had spent together might appear fleeting in the grand scheme of things, it felt as if you had experienced an entire lifetime’s worth of moments within those precious weeks.

Each shared glance carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words, creating a silent dialogue that only the two of you understood. Every burst of laughter echoed like a melody, resonating with joy and warmth that filled the spaces between you. The conversations you shared, whether deep and contemplative or light and whimsical, wove a rich tapestry of connection that seemed to transcend the mere passage of days.

It was as though time itself had bent and stretched to accommodate the depth of your interactions. The moments you spent together, whether walking hand in hand through sun-dappled streets or sharing quiet, emotionally intimate evenings under a canopy of stars, left you with the impression that you had journeyed through countless experiences together in just a short while. The intensity of your bond created a sense of timelessness, making each day feel like a chapter in a beautifully unfolding story.

The day dawned under the crisp, invigorating light of morning, painting the world in hues of possibility. Hyunjin stood eagerly by your front door, his eyes sparkling with anticipation and a smile that promised adventure. The air was charged with the excitement of a day uncharted, a journey waiting to unfold as you both boarded the train bound for the newly opened museum.

As the train carried you toward your destination, a sense of exhilaration grew, mingling with the rhythmic clatter of the tracks. The cityscape blurred past, a fleeting backdrop to the conversation and laughter that filled the space between you. Upon arrival, the museum revealed itself as a grand sanctuary of artistry and history, its towering facade inviting you into a world where time seemed to stand still.

Stepping inside, you were enveloped by the cool, hushed atmosphere of the museum, a place where every corner promised discovery. The labyrinthine halls stretched out before you, each exhibit unfolding like a new chapter in your shared journey. Vibrant paintings, intricate sculptures, and ancient artifacts beckoned you closer, igniting lively discussions and thoughtful reflections. With every step, you meandered through galleries side by side, your connection deepening as you shared insights and marvels.

The experience felt timeless, an effortless immersion into a realm of creativity and wonder. You lost yourselves in the stories etched into each piece, the artistry that transcended the mundane and spoke directly to your souls. The hours slipped by unnoticed, each moment adding a brushstroke to the canvas of your day, painting a picture of shared exploration and discovery. In that museum, amidst the echoes of history and the whispers of creativity, you found not only a deeper understanding of the world but also of each other.

After immersing yourselves in the museum's artistic treasures, you both boarded the train once more, the thrill of the day still crackling in the air between you. The rhythmic clatter of the tracks beneath you seemed to echo the excitement of the adventure that awaited. Your destination was your favorite restaurant, a cherished haven where comfort and familiarity wove seamlessly into the fabric of its ambiance.

Upon arrival, the restaurant greeted you with its warm, inviting glow. Soft light spilled from hanging fixtures, casting a gentle radiance over the rustic wooden tables and cushioned chairs. The scent of savory dishes wafted through the air, mingling with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked bread. As you settled into your seats, the meal became more than just sustenance; it transformed into a canvas for laughter and playful banter.

Each dish that arrived at your table seemed to serve as a catalyst for shared stories and inside jokes. The vibrant colors of the food mirrored the lively exchange between you, as conversations flowed effortlessly alongside bites of deliciously crafted dishes. The restaurant’s lively bustle provided a vibrant backdrop, its hum of chatter and clinking of cutlery blending into the symphony of your shared experience.

The meal, rich with flavor and affection, was more than a mere dining experience; it was an extension of the day's joy and companionship. With each course, you both found yourselves drawn closer, the savory dishes a tangible reflection of the deepening bond between you. As you enjoyed each bite, the connection you had forged earlier in the museum seemed to be solidified, the warmth of the food and the ambiance merging to create a perfect continuation of the day's adventures.

Adjacent to the restaurant stood a quaint psychic shop, its sign casting a gentle, ethereal glow that beckoned with an almost magnetic allure. The delicate, swirling script on the sign seemed to whisper promises of mysteries and hidden truths, igniting a spark of curiosity within both of you. Driven by a shared sense of adventure and intrigue, you decided to venture inside, stepping into a world that seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.

The interior of the shop was a treasure trove of curiosities. Dimly lit by the soft flicker of candlelight, the space was adorned with richly embroidered tapestries and shelves brimming with intriguing artifacts. The air was tinged with the heady fragrance of incense, mingling with the faint aroma of old parchment and aromatic herbs. In the center of this enigmatic realm sat the psychic, her presence as compelling as the surroundings.

Her gaze was shrouded in an enigmatic aura as she performed the reading, her eyes glimmering with an inscrutable wisdom. As she declared with a knowing smile that you and Hyunjin were soulmates, her words seemed to reverberate with an almost palpable magic. The statement hung in the air like a delicate thread, weaving itself into the fabric of your shared experience.

The psychic’s cryptic smile was met with a blend of surprise and shyness on your faces. A soft blush crept across both your cheeks, accentuating the nervous laughter that bubbled up between you. Each of you cast furtive glances away, caught between a fluttering sense of embarrassment and an exhilarating hint of delight. The moment felt like a secret dance, a playful intimacy that hung between you, adding a layer of enchantment to the day. The encounter at the psychic shop became a cherished memory, a touch of magic that lingered like a sweet aftertaste, enriching the tapestry of your shared adventure.

As the evening unfurled, you both returned to the serene sanctuary of your cozy studio apartment. The tranquility of the space embraced you like a warm hug, with the soft, rhythmic purring of your cat—curled contentedly on the nightstand—embodying the essence of home’s simple pleasures. The room was gently illuminated by the soft, golden glow of the lamp, casting a soothing radiance that seemed to enhance the peaceful ambiance.

In this haven of calm, you set about preparing warm tea for both of you. The aroma of the brewing tea leaves mingled with the subtle scent of the evening, creating an olfactory embrace that complemented the warmth of the space. As you poured the steaming liquid into delicate cups, the gentle clinking of porcelain was a soft, melodious counterpoint to the quietude surrounding you.

The conversation that followed was a tender and intimate exchange, your voices barely rising above hushed whispers as you both savored the serene atmosphere of the moment. Each word shared was like a caress, adding to the richness of your connection. Cradling your tea cups in your hands, you both reveled in a profound sense of contentment, the day’s adventures seamlessly blending into the gentle comfort of your shared refuge.

The evening unfolded as a quiet yet significant culmination of laughter, connection, and deepening bonds. The day’s escapades, full of vivid experiences and cherished moments, seemed to melt into the soft, welcoming embrace of your studio. This tranquil conclusion transformed the day into a cherished memory, a treasured chapter that would linger tenderly in your hearts.

As the night wore on, the rain began to fall in a steady, soothing rhythm, each droplet creating a symphony of tranquility against the windows. The gentle patter of the rain became a serene backdrop to the evening's unfolding events, wrapping your world in a cocoon of calm. Within the comforting familiarity of your bedroom, the atmosphere was imbued with a sense of warmth and intimacy.

You extended an invitation to Hyunjin, offering him a place beside you on the bed, a gesture that had become second nature over the short time you’ve been together. Yet tonight carried a different energy, a palpable shift that neither of you could ignore—evident in the way Hyunjin’s heavy eyes followed your every move. The ambiance was charged with an emerging affection, an electric undercurrent that seemed to hum softly in the space between you.

Each fleeting glance you shared was laden with unspoken emotions, eyes conveying what words could not. The subtle brush of skin against skin felt like sparks igniting a fire, each touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. Your quiet conversations, spoken in hushed tones, wove a delicate tapestry of words and sentiments, each one deepening the connection you felt.

In the stillness of your home, every moment seemed to heighten the sense of anticipation. The rain's gentle cadence matched the rhythm of your hearts, beating in sync as if to the same unspoken melody. The space between you felt charged, a magnetic pull drawing you closer to a deeper intimacy that was steadily approaching, its arrival inevitable and eagerly awaited.

The night continued to unfold in this gentle yet intense dance of emotions, the rain outside acting as a serenade to your evolving bond while you prepared your bed for the night. Each moment spent together was a testament to the growing affection that had blossomed between you, transforming the ordinary into something exquisitely profound. In that cozy sanctuary, under the spell of the night and the rain, you both felt the irresistible pull toward a connection that promised to be as enduring as the rhythmic rain itself.

The tension between you both thickened as you handed him a t-shirt he had intentionally left behind during a previous visit. The fabric of the shirt, worn soft and familiar, passed from your hands to his with a weight that seemed to carry unspoken significance. As soon as he grasped the shirt, a spark of unspoken urgency ignited between you. His lips met yours with a fervor that had been quietly simmering throughout the day, an electric connection that surged with the intensity of all the emotions you had harbored.

The kiss was a profound mingling of longing and desire, a tangible culmination of the feelings that had been building in the quiet spaces between you. It was as if the very essence of the day’s shared moments converged in this single, impassioned exchange.

Even amidst this deep connection, an endearing awkwardness lingered in the air. As you both clumsily undressed each other, your movements were hesitant and unpracticed, yet brimming with sincerity. Nervous laughter bubbled up between you, a symphony of shared amusement that softened the intensity of the moment. Your hands fumbled gently, each touch a mix of tender care and uncoordinated eagerness, creating a dance of intimacy that was both innocent and heartfelt.

Your gaze remained locked on his dazed eyes, the unspoken emotions between you speaking volumes. Every brush of your fingers, every accidental graze, was charged with a sense of wonder and discovery. The garments fell away piece by piece, leaving you both in only your underwear, vulnerable and exposed yet completely at ease in each other's presence.

The path to the bed was a journey marked by stumbles and shared glances. Each step was a testament to the raw and unrefined nature of your intimacy, a beautiful reminder of the genuine connection you were forging. The nervous energy between you added a layer of charm to the moment, making each interaction feel even more precious.

As you finally reached the bed, the clumsy yet heartfelt nature of your movements only served to deepen the bond you were creating. The tender moments of hesitation and the bursts of laughter wove together, forming a tapestry of intimacy that was uniquely your own. In the gentle embrace of the night, surrounded by the quiet rhythm of your shared breaths, you both discovered a profound sense of closeness that transcended the physical, creating a memory that would linger long after the night had ended.

This clumsy yet heartfelt interaction only added to the night's charm, weaving an intricate tapestry of shared experience. Every hesitant touch, each nervous laugh, became a delicate thread, binding you closer together. As he settled between your legs, the intimacy of the moment deepened, turning every interaction into a genuine and endearing part of your growing bond.

A breathy moan escapes your lips as Hyunjin's kisses trace a delicate path along your jaw, each touch igniting a spark of electricity. When he reaches the sensitive spot just below your ear, a shiver runs through you, heightening your senses. This reaction seemed to bolster his confidence, and with gentle yet assertive hands, he guided you to lay back on the bed.

As you sink into the soft embrace of the mattress, his mouth works its magic, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Each kiss, each caress is a jolt of pure electricity, making your heart race and your breath hitch. The intensity of his touch leaves you yearning for more, each moment an exquisite blend of anticipation and ecstasy.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, craving the warmth and intimacy of his presence. As he continues his descent, his mouth finds your hardened nipples, drawing a gasp from your lips. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect symphony of pleasure that leaves you arching your back, pressing yourself against him.

In this intimate dance, every movement feels deliberate and profound, each touch a testament to the deep connection you share. The room around you fades into obscurity, leaving only the two of you in a world of your own creation, where time stands still and nothing exists except the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies entwined.

His kisses, like whispers of fire, trail across your skin, igniting every nerve ending with a burning desire. The magic of his mouth, the gentle yet insistent way he explores your body, leaves you trembling with need. Every breathy moan, every gasp of pleasure, becomes a part of this beautiful symphony, resonating in the quiet sanctuary of your shared space.

Your hands find the courage to wander, fingers trembling with anticipation as they begin their exploration. Every touch is an act of reverence, a slow and deliberate journey to memorize the curves and contours of his lean body. The warmth of his skin under your fingertips sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you.

As your hands glide over his torso, you savor the feeling of his defined muscles, each movement a tactile symphony. Your fingertips dance over his chest, tracing the lines of his pecs before drifting down to his abs. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch is mesmerizing, drawing you deeper into the intimate connection you share.

When your hands finally reach his abs, you slow your pace, allowing yourself to fully appreciate the sculpted firmness beneath your palms. The tension in his muscles, the way they contract and relax with each breath, is a testament to his strength and beauty. Your touch becomes more deliberate, a silent communication of desire and admiration.

As you move lower, your fingers find his hardened core, and a breathy groan escapes his lips. The sound is intoxicating, a blend of need and pleasure that fuels your own arousal. He pushes his hips into your hand eagerly, a wordless plea for more, and you can't help but chuckle lightly at his neediness. There's something incredibly endearing about the way he responds to your touch, a vulnerability that makes him even more irresistible.

His groan resonates in the quiet room, mingling with the rhythm of your shared breaths. The intensity of his reaction sends a thrill through you, a heady mix of power and tenderness. As your hand continues to caress him, you revel in the connection between you, the unspoken language of touch and desire that binds you together.

The moment stretches into eternity, every touch, every sound, deepening the bond you share. The intimacy of your exploration, the way your hands map the landscape of his body, becomes a testament to the growing love between you. In this private sanctuary, you find a profound sense of fulfillment, a beautiful merging of souls that transcends the physical and touches the very essence of your being.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been waiting for so long to have this moment with you,” Hyunjin murmurs, his voice a soft whisper against the backdrop of your shared breath. His words hang in the air, delicate and poignant, carrying the weight of anticipation and longing. You can see the depth of his emotions reflected in his eyes, a swirling sea of vulnerability and desire that makes your heart ache with a tender ache. The sincerity in his voice, the quiet urgency, speaks volumes about the unspoken yearning that has built up between you.

His words touched you deeply, a wave of emotion washing over you as you absorbed the sincerity in his voice. With a soft, reassuring smile, your hands left his already leaking length, the warmth of his arousal lingering on your fingertips. You reached up, fingers threading through his long, silken hair, feeling its softness and reveling in the intimacy of the gesture.

"Don’t ever apologize, Hyune," you whispered, your voice filled with affection and reassurance. "You’re being wonderful."

Your fingers continued their gentle journey through his hair, each stroke a tender caress that seemed to convey all the emotions you felt. His hair, smooth and luxurious, slipped through your fingers like strands of midnight silk, and you marveled at the way it framed his face, accentuating the depth of his eyes and the curve of his lips.

The two of you lingered in a realm of shared kisses, each one deepening the connection that pulsed between you. What began as gentle explorations quickly evolved into a deliciously messy entanglement of lips and tongues, leaving both of you breathless. Droplets of shared saliva glistened on your mouths, a testament to the fervor with which you embraced each other. Every time your needy cores met, grinding against the thin barrier of fabric that still separated you, a gasp escaped your lips, mingling with his in a symphony of desire.

The friction, though clothed, was a tantalizing prelude to the ecstasy that awaited, a mere glimpse of the pleasure that loomed on the horizon. Each grind, each press of your bodies, sent waves of adrenaline coursing through your veins at an intoxicating speed. It was an addictive rush, leaving you craving more—more of him, more of the sensations that set your skin aflame and made your heart race.

Time seemed to blur, the minutes stretching into an eternity of heated kisses and desperate touches. Your hands roamed freely, memorizing the contours of his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, and committing every inch of him to memory. The room was filled with the sounds of your shared passion—breathy moans, whispered names, and the rhythmic beat of two hearts caught in the throes of desire.

It wasn't long before the intensity of your need became almost unbearable. A soft, desperate whine escaped your lips, a sound that conveyed your longing and frustration. You could feel the slickness between your thighs, a testament to how thoroughly he had aroused you. Your body ached with a deep, insistent need, practically begging him for more.

"Please," you whispered, your voice a soft plea as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. The word hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your desire, and you looked up at him with wide, imploring eyes.

Hyunjin's gaze darkened with a mixture of lust and affection, his breath hitching at the sight of you so vulnerable, so open. He leaned in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, his hands moving to cup your face with a tenderness that made your heart swell. The kiss was both a promise and a reassurance, a silent vow that he would give you everything you craved.

As he pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine. "Anything for you," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that resonated deep within your core.

With a slow, deliberate motion, his hands slid down your body, his touch igniting a trail of fire along your skin. The anticipation built with every second, your senses heightened to a fever pitch. Each brush of his fingers, each lingering touch, was a tantalizing prelude to the ecstasy that awaited. You arched into his touch, your body responding instinctively to the promise of pleasure.

His fingers danced tantalizingly close to your drenched core, skimming over the slick heat but avoiding the sensitive places where you needed him most. The tease was exquisite yet maddening, each near-touch sending shivers of both pleasure and frustration through your body. You could feel the dampness of sweat on your skin, mingling with the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

Mildly frustrated, a soft whimper escaped your lips as you reached down between your intertwined bodies. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, guiding his hand to where you craved his touch. The movement was driven by a mix of urgency and desperation, a silent plea for him to end the sweet torture.

He chuckled lightly at your eagerness, the sound a blend of amusement and affection that reverberated through your chest. The gentle tease in his voice only heightened your desire, making you acutely aware of how much you wanted—needed—him. Despite his amusement, he didn't leave you waiting for long.

His thumb found your clit, the touch electric and precise, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. A gasp left your lips, the sensation intense and immediate. Without warning, his index finger slipped inside you, filling you completely. The sudden intrusion made you yelp in surprise, your body arching into his touch as a wave of heat surged through you.

He quickly glanced up, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of concern and passion. The thrusts into your core halted, yet he kept his fingers buried deep inside, the sensation still pulsing through you. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice a husky whisper that mingled with the heavy breaths filling the room.

You licked your lips, a slow and deliberate motion, trying to gather your composure amidst the swirling intensity. Your chest rose and fell with each pant, the air thick with anticipation and desire. You nodded, the movement gentle but assured, your body trembling slightly as you held back the urge to grind into his hand. "Yes... just please go slow when you're down there," you whispered, your voice tinged with a blend of need and vulnerability.

His eyes softened at your words, a tender smile curling at the corners of his lips. The connection between you felt almost palpable, a silent understanding that spoke volumes. He nodded in response, his fingers beginning to move once more, but this time with a deliberate slowness that made every touch more intense.

Each movement was a study in restraint, his fingers exploring you with a gentleness that contrasted with the earlier urgency. The deliberate pace allowed you to savor every sensation, the pleasure building in slow, delicious waves. Your body responded instinctively, a soft moan escaping your lips as you felt him delve deeper.

He watched you closely, his gaze unwavering, the concern in his eyes gradually giving way to a renewed desire. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around you both, a cocoon of shared trust and passion. His other hand found its way to your hip, holding you steady as he continued his slow, measured rhythm.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, the earlier frenzy giving way to a tender, almost reverent exploration. Your breaths synchronize, each inhale and exhale a testament to the deep connection that had formed between you. His fingers curled inside you, finding that sweet spot that sent shivers down your spine, drawing out gasps and sighs of pleasure.

As he moved, his thumb brushed against your clit with a featherlight touch, sending sparks of electricity through your entire being. The slow pace allowed the pleasure to build gradually, each wave cresting higher than the last. Your hands reached out, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as you lost yourself in the sensations.

He responded to your touch, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both tender and intense. The world seemed to narrow down to the two of you, every sensation magnified in the cocoon of intimacy you had created. The taste of him, the feel of his fingers, the sound of your mingled breaths—it all wove together into a symphony of pleasure.

You could feel the tension building within you once more, a slow burn that promised an explosive release. The deliberate pace made every touch, every caress, more poignant, the anticipation heightening your arousal. Your body arched into his touch, a silent plea for more, for everything he could give.

His fingers moved with a steady, unerring rhythm, guiding you towards the edge with a skill that made your heart race. The slow, deliberate thrusts were interspersed with gentle caresses, the combination driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Your moans grew louder, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity.

And then, with a final, deliberate thrust, the tension within you snapped. Pleasure crashed over you in a tidal wave, your body trembling as the orgasm tore through you. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the small space, your vision blurring as the world dissolved into pure sensation.

He held you through it all, his fingers still moving gently, prolonging the waves of pleasure. The aftershocks rippled through you, leaving you breathless and sated. As the intensity faded, you clung to him, your body still humming with the remnants of ecstasy.

In the aftermath, the room was filled with a quiet, almost sacred, stillness. You looked up at him, your heart full of gratitude and love, knowing that this moment was one of many that you would cherish. The night was a tapestry of shared passion and deep connection, a journey that had only just begun.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

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rootedinrevisions · 3 months ago

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Kinktober 2024: Day 7 (late)

SUMMARY: Jake had always been confident, the calm in any storm, but lately, the weight of an upcoming mission had cast a shadow over him. No matter what you tried, his mind remained distant, locked on the challenges ahead. Desperate to help him unwind, you took a bold step, sinking to your knees before him, offering a moment of release from the pressures weighing him down. As his eyes finally met yours, dark with both surprise and need, you knew you had his full attention. In that moment, the tension between you shattered, and what followed was a much-needed escape for both of you.

PROMPT: "You look so pretty on your knees."

KINK: Face Fucking

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT. (Male Receiving Oral)

WORD COUNT: 768

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am aware that I am getting this posted very late. I am so sorry for that! There was a family emergency I was taking care of most of today which didn't leave me any time to write or get anything posted. Hopefully, it's worth the wait!

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 @saucy-sassy-sparkly I @alipap3 I @dudinhastuff I @lunatygerqueen I @hookslove1592 I @glenpowellluver

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! (I currently have one for Glen Powell & His Characters, One for Bradley/Rooster now, and then a third for WWE/Wrestling. I also can create one for Bucky & other MCU characters if there's interest for more of those characters!)

Jake had been distant for days, his usual lighthearted demeanor weighed down by the upcoming mission. You’d seen him stressed before, but this felt different. He was quieter, less playful, and constantly lost in thought. You hated seeing him like this—so consumed by his duty that it seemed to block out everything else.

Tonight, you were determined to change that, even if just for a few minutes. He was sitting on the edge of your shared bed, elbows resting on his knees, staring blankly at the floor. You came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.

“Jake,” you whispered softly, your lips brushing against his skin.

He hummed, acknowledging you but not fully engaged.

You tried again, this time letting your hands wander down his chest, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. “You need to take a break. You’ve been thinking about that mission all day.”

“I can’t,” he muttered, his voice tight, as if his thoughts were an anchor pulling him down. “There’s too much riding on this one.”

You understood. His job demanded perfection, and the stakes were always high. But you also knew he needed to get out of his own head for a bit—to relax, even if just for a moment.

You kissed him again, this time more insistently, running your fingers through his hair as you tried to coax him out of his trance.

But it wasn’t enough. His mind was miles away, focused on the mission that was still days off. You pulled back slightly, frustration and concern warring within you. You couldn’t stand to see him like this, so you decided to take a different approach.

Slowly, you sank to your knees in front of him, your hands moving to his belt. His eyes flicked to yours, momentarily surprised by your shift in position.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low, his brows furrowing in curiosity.

“Helping you relax,” you said simply, your voice soft but determined as you undid his belt and tugged it free.

You could feel his hesitation as he watched you work the button and zipper on his pants, but he didn’t stop you. Instead, he let out a shaky breath, his body already responding to the promise of your touch.

As you pulled his pants down just enough to free him, you glanced up, and his gaze was locked on you, desire flickering in his eyes.

“You look so pretty on your knees,” he murmured, the compliment causing a rush of heat to flood your cheeks.

You wrapped your hand around him, feeling his length pulse in your palm. Then you leaned in and took him into your mouth, Jake’s hand immediately finding your hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he exhaled a deep, shaky breath. His hips twitched slightly, and you could feel the tension in his body begin to ease.

It didn’t take long before his hand tightened its grip in your hair, holding you in place as his hips began to move on their own. His breath came in short, shallow gasps, the stress of the past few days melting away with each thrust. You could feel the weight of his worries lifting, even if only temporarily, as he lost himself in the sensation of your mouth.

“God,” he groaned, his voice rough, his body finally giving in to the release he so desperately needed. You could sense the shift in him, the way his focus turned completely to you, to the pleasure you were giving him, and it sent a rush of satisfaction through you.

Finally, his movements stilled, and he released a low, guttural groan as he came, his body shuddering as the tension drained from him. He stayed there for a moment, his hand still gently tangled in your hair, his breath uneven as he came down from the high.

When he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you, there was something softer in his expression—a quiet gratitude, perhaps, or a deep sense of relief. He gently pulled you back up to him, his lips pressing against yours in a slow, appreciative kiss.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice warm and genuine. He pulled you into his lap, cradling you close as if he didn’t want to let go. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

You smiled softly, resting your head against his chest. “You need to take care of yourself too, Jake. Not just the mission.”

He sighed, his arms tightening around you. “I know,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “And now it’s time to take care of you.”

#Top Gun Hangman #Top Gun Hangman Fanfiction #Top Gun Hangman Fanfic #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Jake Seresin Fanfic #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader #Jake Seresin Smut #Hangman Jake Seresin Smut

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tinytinyblogs · 3 months ago

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Darling, i'm sorry..

After a fight, they need to make things right with you.

Hyung line, Maknae line

💬 Life feels like a rollercoaster, and here I am, still pouring my thoughts onto the page, hoping this time it's something worth reading.

Stray kids masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Han

Sometimes, Han’s tendency to overthink would get the better of him, especially when it came to his emotions. He found himself tangled in his thoughts, turning minor issues into bigger problems. That's often where the arguments would start—over something small and insignificant. He’d begin to complain, nitpicking every detail, and before long, his voice would rise, frustration spilling over. The tension would build between you two, creating a moment of distance, even though the argument itself didn’t seem that important. After a while, though, you would both take time apart, letting things cool down. Han would often sit in silence, reflecting on his actions. His eyes would wander to the closed bedroom door where you were, and he’d start thinking about the argument again. Slowly, it would hit him how much his overreactions could cost him. The fear of losing you, the one person he loved most, would wash over him, stronger than any frustration he’d felt earlier. In those moments, he realized that his biggest fear wasn’t the fight itself but the thought of pushing you away.

He took a hesitant step closer to the bedroom door, feeling the weight of the moment settle heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, he stood in silence, contemplating everything that had transpired between you both. His heart raced as he reached out, his hand finally grasping the doorknob, and he turned it slowly, the soft creak of the door echoing in the stillness of the room. When he stepped inside and his eyes fell on you, he was struck by the sight of you silently crying, your shoulders trembling with the weight of your emotions. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he quietly closed the door behind him, wanting to create a barrier between the two of you and the outside world. He moved closer, his footsteps barely making a sound on the floor, as he settled down beside you on the bed. Without saying a word, he allowed his forehead to rest gently against your shoulder, seeking comfort in your presence. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with a mixture of remorse and vulnerability.

“It’s such a silly thing we fought about, and I never wanted to hurt you.” He lifted his head slightly, looking deep into your tear-filled eyes, and reached out to gently wipe the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. The tenderness of the gesture held a promise of understanding and love. “You know I love you, right? More than anything in this world,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “It hurts so much to even think about the possibility of you walking out of my life. I can’t imagine what that would be like.” His heart ached as he watched the pain in your eyes, and he knew that the love he felt for you was more profound than any argument they could ever have. He wanted nothing more than to bridge the gap that had formed between you, to reassure you that no disagreement could ever diminish the bond you shared. In that quiet moment, he hoped you could feel his sincerity, and he silently vowed to do whatever it took to make things right between you two, to ensure that the love you both cherished would always prevail.

Felix

He often gets so absorbed in his games that it feels like he’s in another world, completely disconnected from everything around him. His intense focus blocks out everything, including you. You’ve seen it happen before—he becomes so fixated on his game that it's as if you’re invisible, no matter what you say or do. He doesn’t mean to push you away, but in those moments, it’s hard not to feel ignored and unimportant. It’s like he’s locked inside his own bubble, and you’re left standing on the outside. You try to be patient, but after a while, it becomes too much. You grab your things, deciding to leave. As you walk toward the door, frustration bubbling inside, you hear a shift behind you. He’s realized what’s happening. His head snaps up from the game, the characters on his screen frozen, as he rises from his chair. Losing the game is the least of his worries now. All that matters is stopping you from walking out. Just as you’re about to open the apartment door, his hand catches yours, gently but firmly holding you back. His touch is a silent apology, a sign that he knows he’s hurt you.

He held your hand, his eyes meeting yours, searching for something—understanding, forgiveness. His expression alone spoke volumes, conveying the apology he couldn’t put into words. For a moment, he stood still, the silence between you filled with unspoken regret. Then, he took a few steps closer, the faint sound of his game still playing in the background, left running—something he almost never did. It was a small sign, but enough to show you just how much his focus had shifted to you, and how much he cared in this quiet, vulnerable moment. "Don’t go…" he whispered, his voice soft but filled with an urgency that cut through the silence. It was low, almost pleading, but you heard it clearly. "Please, don’t go. I don’t want you to." His hand tightened around yours, his desperation growing with each passing second. He repeated, "I’m sorry, please… don’t leave me." His breath was shaky as he struggled to find the right words, his emotions getting the better of him. "You’re more important than everything… more important than anything else," he said, his voice breaking slightly.

"I know I messed up, but I can’t lose you. I’ll do anything, just… stay." His eyes searched yours, filled with a mix of regret and fear, his vulnerability laid bare in those few words. His hand gently caressed your cheek, the warmth of his touch calming the tension between you. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering there for a brief moment as if to silently promise things would get better. "Let’s do something together," he said softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "I’ll turn off my computer." He stepped back slightly, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made you feel seen, as if all his attention was now on you. "It’s been a while since we did a cooking date, hasn’t it?" he asked, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. "Should we cook something special or maybe bake together?" There was a light in his eyes now, a spark of excitement as he tried to reconnect with you, eager to bring back the simple joys you once shared.

Seungmin

There are times when Seungmin’s words can be quite sharp. While you understand this side of him, knowing that he doesn't always mean to come across so harshly, it doesn’t change the fact that some of his remarks still hit you hard, especially when you’re feeling low yourself. In those moments, the weight of his words feels even heavier, like a blade slicing through an already fragile situation. The tension builds until both of you are trading hurtful words back and forth. Eventually, it escalates to the point where you and Seungmin decide to walk away, giving yourselves space to cool off. As you turn to leave, you catch a glimpse of Seungmin’s expression—his face is blank, almost emotionless, as if nothing you said got to him. But you know better. It’s just a mask he wears, hiding the fact that he’s upset, deeply wounded, especially when he watches you walk away. Seeing your back as you leave stings more than he’s willing to admit. His pride and ego hold him back from saying something right away, but after some time passes, you find him standing there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest, waiting for you.

The moment he spots you, he slowly drops his arms, his eyes locking on yours. For a few long, tense moments, neither of you says anything, both drawn into the silence that hangs between you, heavy with unspoken feelings. He lets you open the door first, quietly following you inside without saying a word. As the two of you sit down on the couch, the silence stretches between you, heavy and awkward. You sit side by side, close but somehow feeling distant. After what feels like an eternity, you notice him looking down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting nervously as he awkwardly caresses his own knee. There’s a tension in the air, thick with unsaid things. “I realized I was wrong,” he finally admits, his voice quiet but sincere. “I shouldn’t have said those things.” He pauses, his eyes still fixed on his hands as if he can’t bring himself to meet your gaze. “I didn’t mean it... you know me. I’m not good at expressing how I feel.” His voice trails off, and you can hear the struggle in his tone, the vulnerability that he so rarely shows. It’s not easy for him to admit his mistakes.

And the fact that he’s saying it now, in this moment, speaks volumes about how much he regrets what happened. He glances at you, noticing how you seem lost in your thoughts, your eyes fixed on the floor. For a moment, he hesitates, unsure of how to reach you. Slowly, he extends his hand and gently takes yours, his thumb brushing softly over the back of your hand in a comforting gesture. The warmth of his touch pulls you out of your thoughts, though you still don’t meet his gaze. “I made reservations,” he says quietly, breaking the silence. You look at him, a little confused at first. “At that restaurant you mentioned—the one you said you wanted to try.” His voice is soft but carries a hopeful tone, as if he’s trying to rebuild a bridge between you. Your eyes finally meet his, and you see the sincerity in them, the way he’s trying to make things right, to reconnect. “Let’s... go on a date,” he suggests, his voice a little more sure now. “I miss us. I miss our time together.” The words are simple but carry a weight of longing, and in that moment, you feel the gap between you starting to close, if only a little.

Jeongin

Jeongin's clumsiness had always been a part of him, something almost endearing in most situations, but this time it came at the worst possible moment. The argument had started over something small, but it quickly spiraled into something bigger—something that meant a lot to him. It was about one of those things he'd worked so hard for, something that he held close to his heart. Yet, in the heat of the moment, his words came out wrong. He felt cornered and defensive, and that only led to more hurt. Instead of fixing things, his attempts to explain himself only worsened the situation, breaking what he had worked so hard to build. The argument turned into a full-blown fight, and before he knew it, both of you were deeply upset. Jeongin hated it. He never wanted to be in this kind of conflict, especially not with the person he loved most in the world. But there he was, standing in the middle of it, and though he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t stop. His pride had taken over, and his ego spoke for him instead of his heart.

He wanted you to understand his side too, but it seemed impossible to get his point across without sounding cold or distant. After the fight, Jeongin was left with a gnawing feeling of regret. He thought about it over and over, replaying the conversation in his head, wishing he'd said things differently. He wanted to apologize so badly, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too shy, too proud, too unsure of how you'd react. Several times, he picked up his phone, thinking about texting you, typing out the words he wanted to say. But each time, his fingers hovered over the send button before he ultimately deleted the message. He would stare at the empty screen, sighing in frustration, wishing he could express how he really felt without the fear of making things worse. Days passed, and with each one, Jeongin found it harder to think about what to say. The more time went by, the more he realized it wasn’t about finding the perfect words. He didn't need a carefully crafted apology or a long explanation. What he really wanted was to fix things, to go back to how they were before the fight.

So, without thinking about it too much, his feet led him to your place. There was no grand plan, no rehearsed speech. When he saw you, all the hesitation, the worry, the uncertainty melted away. Without saying a word, he walked straight up to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a sudden, unexpected hug. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent—the one he loved more than anything. His embrace was warm, a comfort you hadn’t realized you missed after days of distance between you. "I’m stupid," he whispered, his voice soft and regretful. "The fight was stupid." His arms tightened around you as if he was afraid to let go. "I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to break it, and I didn’t mean to scream at you." After a moment, he pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours with a sincerity that made your heart ache. "I’ll buy a new one," he promised softly, his voice laced with remorse. "And I’ll make it up to you, to us. I’m sorry… I love you." His words hung in the air, filled with a quiet desperation to fix what had been broken, to start again.

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loaisacult · 2 months ago

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LOA IS A CULT. Everyone Including myself and those who are familiar with it, know it’s a cult! I know everyone lies for attention or to live in the end because I used to be a big blogger myself. I won't reveal who I was, but I saw firsthand how these bloggers, claiming to be friends in real life, are actually deceiving everyone—they're all liars. Behind the scenes, they're working regular jobs while curating content from friends and family to share as their own as proof. Many of them have multiple accounts and blogs to give the illusion of authenticity. If you don't believe me, create a fake account and replicate the process—fabricate a success story, and watch as bloggers emerge from the shadows seeking help. Most of them have disappeared now... I wonder why that is, lol. It's time to open your eyes to the reality behind these façades and question the true motives driving this deceitful tumblr .

Despite the presence of manifestors, witches, and astrologists manifesting against Donald Trump in the world it's amusing to see that he still emerged victorious and by a whole lot!!!

It's worth noting that among the founders of the law of assumption and the void state on platforms like Tumblr, inconsistencies and inaccuracies have surfaced in their stories over time – there seems to be a trend of untruthfulness, among them (it might be interesting for you to verify this observation by checking out posts from your favorite bloggers, especially the newer ones; I've taken a look and it appears they're all just making their posts using GPT !

"Persist with belief"; A call to continue holding onto faith and dedication similar, to how spiritual groups encourage their followers to stay steadfast in their beliefs.

“Embrace the mysterious without needing evidence." This mindset echoes the inclination towards accepting the unknown and intangible elements of existence often upheld by certain groups that prioritize faith in the unseen, over concrete proof.

Echoing the cults claims of enlightenment or salvation, without tangible evidence but guaranteeing miraculous transformations assures me of its validity.

Despite the uncovering of deceit and dishonesty by individuals within a system built on mistruth; trust and belief persist unshaken. Mirroring the resilience shown by groups, in the face of revealed falsehood.

"When someone blindly follows something or someone else – it's, like trusting without proof of why or how things work out in the end."

“Discover the truth within yourself”. Encouraging the exploration of truths and insights through belief in something greater; a familiar motif, in spiritual practices.

Encouraging connection, with the energy of the universe is a spiritual idea that highlights the importance of harmonizing with greater forces beyond our sight.

"Fulfill your destiny"; The concept of shaping your own future through faith alone is frequently referenced in spiritual communities as a means to claim authority, over your own life path.

“Rise above the boundaries of the realm " suggesting the possibility of surpassing earthly restrictions through belief in something greater; mirroring stories of spiritual groups seeking elevated levels of existence.

Calling upon the power of the Encouraging believers to tap into mystical powers is a common theme, in teachings of spiritual groups that offer promises of special intervention or extraordinary abilities.

These instances provide insight into the use of language, with spiritual cult like tendencies that focus on faith and commitments that extend beyond tangible proof.

Please, there are bloggers out there sharing and telling us to save Palestine, claiming you can manifest a trillion dollars out of thin air, yet they can't manifest an end to war or even a simple solution. They say you can't control other people, yet they talk about manifesting specific people,, changing your family completely, or even your own race. You all were claiming you were manifesting Harris. I thought manifestation never fails, loool. "Oh, just persist, it will reflect like Neville leaving the war," they say, but all Neville managed could very well fall under the coincidence category, just like healing a burned hand, hahahahah. It's baffling that people are wasting their lives on something they know deep down is false. For the children in this community, just stick to a routine, focus on school and work, and foster your own life. While doing so, perhaps listen to subliminals, but don't rely on these vicious lies. Your time and energy are too precious to be spent on such unfounded claims.

Before you start getting defensive in my comments, take a moment to think and tell me how long you've been manifesting. How long have you been persisting in this process? Share in the comments first, and reflect on how little has actually changed. When you ask questions of these bloggers, why do they always seem to victim blame you instead of providing real answers? They claim to love and care about you so much, yet they charge for subliminals and can't manifest even simple things like you entering the void state. They won't manifest for your mental health desires, despite all the supposedly enlightening infographics they share. They talk about being able to shift reality and consciousness, yet they can't offer real help. Isn't this just typical cult behavior? It's time to question the authenticity of these practices and recognize the inconsistencies.

Some of these bloggers are in their 20s and live on disability, which gives them both the time and money to spread misinformation and false hopes. If you're young and still have potential, please make wise choices. Some aspects of spirituality are indeed real, and manifesting can be a genuine practice, but remember there's a reason why 99% of these bloggers are deceitful. They all eventually leave before their lies catch up with them. It's a disgrace that they pretend to help you in their DMs while knowing you're struggling with issues like poverty and abuse. I truly hope things improve for you, but don't rely on this cult-like mentality.

Critics might come into the comments and claim you just have doubts, but that's not the case. Once I left the Law of Assumption and started genuinely working, studying, and ensuring my grades were satisfactory, my life changed. I got a boyfriend, landed my dream job, and even took steps towards my desired appearance with a nose job. These achievements didn’t just materialize from thin air; they came from hard work. I accomplished more in three months after leaving the cult than some do in five years. I know people who've been in this community for a decade—when will they wake up to reality? That nagging feeling of doubt is actually common sense trying to prevent you from ruining your life.

How many times are you going to think, "I can't tolerate my life; I'm just going to shift," before it becomes unbearable and you realize you're stuck? How many liars need to be exposed? How many times do people have to be scammed before they see the truth? The so-called void masters aren’t helping; if they could truly access the void, they'd expose the liars. But then they’d have to admit they're lying too, and that no one has achieved these creative writing promises. It's all for attention and affirming to manifest is not a magic solution.

Let's be real here—your favorite bloggers allowed the Turing administration to achieve a landslide victory, with the court gone, the Senate gone, the House gone, and the residence done. Project 2025 is in motion, but sure, everyone’s supposed to be GOD, right? You people are worse than religious fanatics. I secured my visa because I knew otherwise, I'd be stuck here; you can't rely on the fake law of assumption. Go ask your bloggers why Trump won, and they'll just tell you to persist or claim it's all an illusion. Seriously? We'll see how much of an illusion it is once Palestine is wiped off the map, and all these so-called void masters can do is make a note to ignore the 3D world, loool. It's absurd that they think such real-world issues can simply be brushed aside with wishful thinking. Time to question these beliefs and face reality.

This message isn't directed at the older members of this cult because, at this point, only you can wake yourself up. But to the younger ones, please focus on building your life in the actual world. It's very real, and your suffering will only worsen if you keep clinging to false hopes.

To all the bloggers who know they're spreading lies, go ahead and manifest that my post gets deleted. I apologize for even considering that some of you revise events where people have literally died. Try revising this post or imagine me apologizing. It's time to stop spreading deceit and start facing the truth. Your actions have consequences, and it's crucial to start acknowledging the reality of the world we live in.

Even those who claim to manifest outside of time are no different—they're all selling courses for hundreds of dollars each month, with packages reaching into the thousands. It's ironic, isn't it? They preach about manifesting abundance yet charge exorbitant fees for their wisdom. Just think about it for a moment: if they could truly manifest unlimited wealth and success, why would they need to profit off of your hard-earned money? The truth is, their business model depends on your belief in their promises, and they capitalize on that by offering overpriced courses that are often filled with recycled content. This practice raises questions about the authenticity of their teachings and whether they genuinely have your best interests at heart.

The feeling you’re having is your body and mind trying to tell you there's truth in what I'm saying. It's like they're working to save you from falling into the trap of delusions. You are caught up in loa and you’re actually caught up in their own illusions. Many of these successful loa folks outside of tumblr grew up in wealthy families, living good lives, and got richer with a mix of luck and hard work. That's why so much of this community feels ridiculous; it's mostly made up of kids chasing dreams and adults spinning lies or looking for attention because they have too much free time.

Society keeps these cycles going, making it easy to fool ourselves. The temptation of quick success and promises of an easy life are hard to resist, especially for those always surrounded by comfort and now searching for something deeper than just money. For some, the LOA community seems like a beacon of hope and purpose. But it's important to see that while some find value, others get caught in a loop of broken promises, clinging to the idea that just thinking positively will bring success without real effort.

This way of thinking can will you ppl away from reality, you’re following and worshipping people seeking likes and attention takes the place of real achievements. LOA IS A CULT. Please wake up

#loaisacult #cult #law of assumption #manifesting #tumblr is fake #neville goddard #law of attraction

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kalki-tarot · 11 months ago

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A Past Life's promise ✧˖°.

Pick only one picture from above.

This tarot reading will include :

A significant past life love story of you and your lover in this lifetime

Any events / promises / situations that took place in that lifetime

Anything which is affecting your current life

Disclaimer : kalki tarot is not responsible for any decisions you make on behalf of this reading. tarot is not 100% accurate all the times. this reading is only for entertainment purposes.

PILE 01.

who were you ?

You guys were rich and wealthy people, both you and your lover, in this past life. Or you guys belonged to super powerful families and you kind of knew each other through professional means. But you guys had a mutual attraction towards eachother. But maybe you did not turn it into a relationship because of societal norms or restrictions.

what happened in this significant past life ?

The feminine in this connection (most probably the one who's reading this can be the feminine but does not matter) had to go through a contract marriage in return of money or because of some political benefits with someone else whom your family selected for you. This felt very shocking and unexpected to both of you. But with the queen of cups, you had to accept this unwanted marriage because you couldn't deny your family and you had to act like a good and faithful daughter. Even though your heart still belonged to the person you loved. Although, this contract marriage was not that special and it didn't have any love.

Later on, after this heartbreaking situation, your lover went through a very tough time accepting the reality, that you are now married to someone else. You guys never communicated to each other about this love that you shared. But you guys knew it that you both love each other intuitively.

After some time passed your lover started traveling through different countries and states to distract himself. Later on, he moved to a total different place to forget all the silent memories he created with you.

In this lifetime

The same situation of restrictions or societal norms will be created in this life time maybe due to cultural differences, or different religions etc. And you guys will have to break these restrictions for each other's love in this life. You guys promised this to each other and yourselves.

This lifetime will test your love for each other but once you guys are ready to fight for eachother, crossing all boundaries, things will fall into place and you both will get to live a very happy and sweet family life together. ♥️

PILE 02.

who were you ?

Hmm, this lifetime feels like the medieval times. Someone was a very rich and well established business man here. Most probably your lover. You loved them very much, like very much. But maybe you thought that you will get rejected by them, or you did not have guts to tell them about this. I'm seeing you being a normal person unlike their high social status, you were someone very ordinary. And due to this difference you faced disappointment in yourself and in your in love. I'm not seeing a relationship here at this point. I guess you assumed that you are in unrequited or one sided love. I can see your lover being very famous and popular, like a war hero or smth. And they too felt trapped whether to move forward woth you or not as their social image would get affected by getting involved with someone of a low class.

what happened in this past life?

You were someone who had a lot of fears and issues with your self worth, maybe in this lifetime too. Your mind would overthink of stressing situations. It's like you had a fear of getting rejected by this love of yours cuz you thought you were nothing for them. You felt like walking away.

While on the other hand, your lover too had many options in love. Many people proposed marriage to them but they too did not move forward with any of these people.

Wow, okay, this is interesting. Something shocking or unexpected took place and your feelings of love were exposed to them. Maybe your friends told them or they just somehow got to know. And you felt very scared but somehow you managed hope and strength and you confessed to them directly.

But you won't believe what happened next. They reciprocated your feelings. They too loved you. They started a relationship with you and people started making rumors about you guys. This news spread like a wild fire and their status was taken away. They hit the rock bottom. They were left with no money or home in return of loving you. But they did not give up. You guys moved to a new place with the world card here. You guys then got married and lived your life happily earning a small but decent amount of money.

You guys can be soulmates.

In this lifetime

You will struggle with self worth and uncertainty in this lifetime too. And you will have to fight it for your own betterment before meeting this person. This is a fated situation.

You'll first have to complete this cycle of not loving or believing in yourself enough only then you will be able to meet your soulmate.

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chichiscloset · 2 years ago

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Soft Life 101: 3 Steps to Escape Your 9-5 Job If You Don’t Want to Work

Before we start, I want to clarify what I mean by “Not wanting to work.”

It means, that I don’t want to exhaust myself. I want to roll out of bed at 8 am then go to a workout class at 9 am. I want to spend my time as I please while keeping my workload to a minimum.

Working consistently, burns me out. I have no desire to prove my worth through productivity, nor do I have any desire to engage in hustle culture. I’m sure many of us can relate to feeling like the pressure to perform is exhausting. This is likely why, “soft life” is the latest trend on social media and has taken the girlies on Tiktok by storm.

In this new soft life era apparently, no one has a job and everyone is a "sahm" or "sahgf". While I understand the desire to escape the matrix and have a man you can fully depend on. Creating a more balanced and fulfilling life does not have to solely depend on your partner (though it helps!).

At the end of the day we still all want money! So how can we create an abundant life while still having a work-life balance?

Step 1: Be willing to make sacrifices

There is no such thing as something for nothing. Get that out of your head! I know we sometimes want to be saved, but unfortunately, life isn’t always a fairytale. Everything that we desire in life requires us to give up something else.

Do you want a better body? Give up junk food and exercise more. Do you want a better man? Give up your dust! To bring in the new we have to get rid of the old. If you want a soft life you’re going to have to strategize and be willing to give up what is no longer serving you.

Step 2: Find a passion you can monetize

*major key*

As the saying goes, “If you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life”. Find something you enjoy doing, then figure out how you, can earn money from it. Are you good at doing hair? Become a hairdresser. Are you the best dressed in your circle? Become a virtual stylist. I promise you, for whatever talent you have there are people willing to pay you for it!

For myself, I love teaching and writing! Blogging is a great way to share my expertise, create passive income, and create the life of my dreams that don’t necessarily depend on me going into a job. Also, you can make money blogging with a relatively small audience.

Check out my blog post "Make Money When your Young, Pretty & Ambitious." For more on this topic.

Step 3: Invest, invest, invest

*Another major key*

We all need money to survive. There’s no way around it! Ideally, we would live a life where money isn’t an issue and if that is your goal you have to start investing ASAP! By investing in assets eventually, those assets will make you money.

For example, invest in stocks like the S&P 500 (which is an index fund that is essentially many companies in one stock). Invest in stocks that will grow over time and make you more money than you bought them for. There are tons of ways to start investing: choose one!

A few types of investments

Real estate

Stocks

Businesses

If living a soft life is a priority to you start today with these steps that will eventually allow you to either fully retire or work minimally. If you don’t, you’ll just be stuck doing something you don’t enjoy or waiting for prince charming to come and save you.

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abbysimsfun · 1 month ago

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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 96 (Making Amends For Past Mistakes)

Conrad arrived in Henford after dark and walked right inside the Nesbitt home. Henford was the kind of place where no one locked their doors, which was a large reason why he'd wanted Heather and Lavender to spend an extra night in town.

He found his daughter cuddling with River's wife in one of the bedrooms. "Oh you're here!" said Cass warmly. Lavender smiled up at him, and he was happy to stumble on the two of them first. "Heather's still over at the Finchwick Winter Fair, but she should be back soon."

He took Lavender from her arms, sitting with her on Heather's childhood bunk bed until she fell asleep. He chuckled at a goofy selfie of Heather as a child hanging on the wall nearby. She was missing her front tooth, grinning wide in front of the statue of Sophie the Snail.

He smiled at their sleeping daughter, cuddled against his chest. No matter what Heather had to say to him when she got back from the fair, their love was strong enough to create someone perfect, and he held on to that belief as fear gripped him.

River and her parents had seemingly made themselves scarce - perhaps they were enjoying the fair, or maybe they were avoiding him. Whatever the reason, he cherished the quiet with his daughter. The calm before a possible storm.

At the Finchwick Winter Fair, Heather entered some of her homegrown dragonfruit into the produce competition, winning a first-place ribbon! She posed for a photo for the town's community notice board to celebrate her win, met her sister Hazel's boss, Mayor Varner, and even ran into her old acquaintance, Lucas Munch, who she'd failed to flirt with back in her teens.

"Lucas, hi! Did you and your girlfriend, Gabi, live happily ever after?"

He smiled. "We got married after she graduated and I moved to the Bramblewood with her and her parents. I love it here, and it's a great place to raise our son, Luka."

(The game decided the son of Lucas Munch and grandson of Paolo Rocca would be named Luka and I was all for it.)

"Luka's a nice name," said Heather kindly, but she was distracted thinking about home. She thought she'd seen Conrad's cruiser pull in behind her parents' place, but she stayed until the fair wound down, going for a spin on the ice rink for old time's sake. Open despite Henford's notoriously mild winters, Brindleton Bay never put up a rink, though she often wished for such a place to take her kids in their own hometown.

When she returned to her parents' home across the emptying village green, she found Conrad in the bedroom. Without a word, he put Lavender in the crib where Heather had slept as an infant and glanced hopefully in her direction.

"Let's go for a walk," she said. He followed easily. They made their way to a bench in a small park lined with stones and short greenery, and she was the first to start talking. "Your past doesn't upset me, Conrad. That you thought you couldn't share it with me is what made me so upset."

"I'm so sorry I lied to you. I was always just trying not to hurt you."

"I never thought I'd be the girl who broke her own promise to herself after my last relationships - if he ever lies, he's just not worth it - but I can forgive you. If you promise that nothing is too dark for us. I can handle anything, but we have to keep the kids safe together."

"I promise nothing is too dark or us. I know how strong you are, and I'm sorry."

"What do I need to know about the investigation?"

He took a deep breath. "George Brindleton's involved. He pulled security from the pier to show off and then a body turned up, so we're going to have to bring in some of his guy's for questioning."

"Did he try to show off because he was angry at us?"

Conrad shrugged. "It's the least of my concerns for now... Ximena's missing. She's the prime suspect, but they're going to put a police detail outside our house and the clinic until we find her, so there's no way she'll come around you or the kids."

"What about the school?"

"No one gets out to Deadgrass Isle without a boat, and every boat gets logged at every dock."

"John Brindleton made it to the island without being noticed."

"Heather, they check everyone who walks into the school."

"I can't believe this woman is making me fear for the lives of my kids. Who the hell does she think she is?"

"Right now she's desperate. If our suspicions are right she doesn't have anyone. Her one ally in the world is missing."

"And now no one's looking for him..."

He looked anxiously at his feet. "Actually...the captain put me on the case to look for Rafa. Officially."

She frowned. "I thought you were done with the case because it was too personal."

"I gave the captain a way to do this without opening an investigation into the cartel. He doesn't want me to lead but he wants me involved in case Ximena comes out of hiding and tries to find me."

"Conrad, what could she do to you?"

"She's not going to do anything to me, I swear to the Watcher. I promise you, Heather, we're going to find her and put her away where she belongs. And I'm going to find her brother. I need to."

Heather thought a moment, swallowing her anxiety in the face of his conviction. "The minute she reaches out to you, if she does, you have to tell me."

He stood from the bench, and she reached slowly for his outstretched hand. "I promise I will tell you."

They stayed outside for a while in the mild moonlit night, and Conrad finally had an opportunity to tell Heather about his wild night at Bella Goth's.

"I finally used her seance table to travel to the Realm of the Dead. I was hoping for guidance from the mentors but I relived my first year of college, instead. I didn't go to some new school, and Bella said this only happens when they want to send a warning."

Heather peeled back in fear, but he shook his head. "I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out what the mentors wanted to show me, but after everything that's happened this weekend, I think they were trying to warn me about the body that turned up at the pier. And the way I make amends is by finding Rafa and putting Ximena behind bars."

"Conrad, I know you," said Heather. "Now that you don't have to hide anything, you'll figure it all out. You'll find Rafa and you'll be able to help him. And I'll help keep us all safe."

They returned home after everyone but Neal had gone to bed. He followed them inside with a smile, but Conrad felt a chill in his future father-in-law's demeanor. As they laid together on the pull out couch upstairs, Conrad turned to talk about it. "I think your dad and your brother might have a harder time forgiving me for this than you did."

Heather nodded. "I haven't told them anything about it, but River knows that you lied to his face, and my Dad's afraid you can't keep us safe. I tried to cover for you this morning, but they want to hear it from you."

He was up most of the night thinking about how to defeat Ximena. His mind drifted to Rafa, and who he might find to give insight into where he could be, but he couldn't come up with anything resembling a solid theory.

As dawn broke, he got up when he heard Lavender babbling in her crib. She enjoyed riding around in a carrier, staring at the world with curious delight, and he strapped her to his back. He found River in pajamas and they shared knowing glances. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you what was really going on. I couldn't tell you before I told Heather, but you made me see that I wasn't managing it and I'm glad you did."

"Even though backing out of the case made your ex leave a dead body out front of the Salty Paw?"

He froze. "Did your father eavesdrop on me and Heather last night?"

A gruff voice called from the other side of the door. "I was looking out for my daughter."

Conrad looked back to River with a helpless expression and River shrugged. "Put your ex behind bars and he'll believe you're keeping Heather and the kids safe," he said. Oblivious to the conversation, Lavender cooed happily in her seat behind Conrad's broad shoulders.

"That's the plan," Conrad assured him.

"Good. I'm not even that mad you lied to me, dude. Lies are bad, and they always cause trouble, but I just want to be sure they're not about to get caught up in something that has nothing to do with them. Heather loves you, but she didn't sign up for a life running from cartels."

"When I said I'd do anything to keep them safe, you have to know I wasn't lying about that."

"I know that," River said. "That's why I left your house knowing you were lying to me about everything else."

"You have my word. I won't rest until Ximena's behind bars and I can put her entirely in the past."

"I believe you, man. But...why are you still in your work clothes?"

"I honestly haven't really slept much. I need a shower before I put on something clean."

(I told you, I like him in this outfit! Shameless.)

Having made amends with Heather and River, Conrad was determined to win back Neal's respect, and his own peace of mind, by ensuring Ximena got what she deserved. ->

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NOTE: Heather really did go to the fair, met the latest mayor, chatted with Lucas, and won first place for her fruit, but I was bad at taking photos and jumping between too many sims. When it was time to restage for better shots in the photo save they were too far away from another fair so I used TOOL to place a stand but couldn't feasibly restage everything and couldn't get the dragon fruit to place on the stand with TOOL and gave up.

TOWNIE TREE NOTE: Lucas Munch married Gabi Rocca-Chopra, daughter of Lavina Chopra and Paolo Rocca. She's a half-sister of Rahul, who's still living happily with Bella's onetime bartender boyfriend, Diego, after his wife Rashidah died of heatstroke and left him a widower. Rahul's daughter, Thomasine, married Heather's former, mediocre vet tech Marcus Flex, and they live somewhere.

Rahul and Gabi have another brother (also Lavina and Paolo's) named Rocco. Rocco married Rikissa, the third daughter of Bjorn and Clara Bjergsen (also born in game), and thus far they're the only sims to have triplets in this save. Glad I'm not playing them tbh. 😂

Lucas' brother Wolfgang is married to Everett Pancakes' younger brother Kash and they live together in Brindleton Bay with Wolfgang's elderly mother, Mila. Lucas and Wolfgang's eldest brother, Gunther, married Catarina Lynx and they have three redheaded daughters - Felina, Yasmine, and Lindsey.

WCIF Poses Used? @helgatisha's Model Poses 21 posepack (pose 15) next to the stand where the dragon fruit is supposed to be. It's fine that the dragonfruit defeated me, Heather looks ️‍🔥 in the shot, anyway. For the conversation on the bench I used @simmerianne93's Conversation posepack 5, and I think it looks fantastic! Really suits the mood of their conversation, for me. Thank you creators, for sharing your creations, as always! 🙏

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims in bloom #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #ts4 story #legacy challenge #sims legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #gen 2 #cassandra goth #lucas munch #henford on bagley

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pacifierbby · 3 months ago

Text

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝑩𝑹𝑶𝑲𝑬𝑵 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑬'𝑺

Summary, Heartbreaks happen all the time she just always thought he was the one when broken promises were the thing that hurt the most.

pairing,Lando Norris x reader

-𝑵𝑨𝑽𝑰-

You never expected it to end like this—how could someone you loved for four years throw it all away in a heartbeat? Lando had promised you so much: that he’d never find anyone better, that the F1 world wouldn’t come between you. Yet, those promises lay shattered around you, a painful reminder of the trust you’d given him.

You often wished you could go back to that day, change everything, maybe even fight harder for what you had. But deep down, you knew you couldn’t control the past; you could only shape your future. After all, you couldn’t keep sitting on the couch with ice cream and binge-watching murder documentaries forever.

Tonight, you’d made a special effort—his favourite dinner, a beautifully set table, a candle flickering in the middle. But as you looked at the clock, anticipation turned to disappointment. Lando was late once again.

When the keys finally jingled in the door, you rushed to greet him, heart racing. “How was today?” you asked, leaning against the doorway. But Lando just shrugged, his exhaustion evident.

“I’m going to sleep. I’m tired.”

Your heart sank. “But I made us dinner…”

He waved your words away. “You can eat. I’m still going to sleep.”

His dismissal felt like a knife. You forced back tears, turning away as he headed upstairs, oblivious to the hurt he was causing.

Walking back into the kitchen the candle still flickering that once gave you comfort only now just gives you dread shutting off the cooker not that hungry to even eat anymore sitting down at the table tears slowly leaving your eyes you know deep down that you cant live like this anymore you cant keep bringing something to the relationship that's already dead you tried so hard to save something that isn't worth fighting for anymore.

opening up your friend's messages

You knew she was right, but you were scared to face everything alone. When you and Lando were together, every weekend was filled with shared adventures—cuddling, watching your favourite TV shows, and simply being together.

As you walked into the bedroom, Lando lay softly snoring on his side of the bed. The room you had designed together now felt like his alone. You grabbed your suitcase from the wardrobe, careful not to wake him. You wanted this to be as pain-free as possible, avoiding any arguments.

Looking around one last time, your eyes landed on a photo frame on his bedside table. It held a picture of the two of you smiling and hugging on the boat—a day you remembered vividly. Now, it felt like just a distant memory, one that would linger in your heart forever.

Your phone pinged again, a message from your friend saying she was outside. You hesitated, not wanting to wake Lando, not wanting to utter those painful words of goodbye. You wished to hold onto the memories instead. But deep down, you longed for the old relationship back. A sigh escaped your lips as tears began to fall, and you quickly left the house for the last time.

This led to four months of silence—Lando never called or asked where you were. He didn’t even bother to text your friend. You found that a little easier, but deep down, it hurt knowing that he was done more than you had thought.

Determined to improve your life, you and your friend opened a cozy coffee shop in town. The past four months had been a whirlwind—from the grand opening to gaining popularity and creating your own signature drink, along with special hand-baked cookies. It helped divert your mind from him and made life feel exciting again.

The bell above the door rang, signaling another customer. “Hello! Welcome to Cosy Café. How can I help you?” you greeted with a smile.

“Hey, can I get the special, please, with the cookies?”

That voice. You knew it all too well, but you didn’t want to be rude; after all, he was now your customer. “Of course!” You quickly jotted down his order. “I’ll be over at the window seat.”

You often wondered how Lando was doing. You still watched his races when you could, pride swelling in your chest for the man you still loved.

Walking over to him, you placed the tray on the table. “Here’s your order. Hope you enjoy it.” As you turned to leave, he called your name, his cap resting on the table, his curly hair tousled in a way you always found cute.

“Y/N, can we please talk?”

“I'm working, Lando,” you replied, already knowing that the café would be fine for the next thirty minutes.

“Please, I need to speak to you.”

You nodded and sat down in front of him, trying to console yourself. “Why?” you asked, placing your hands on your lap.

“I don’t know what happened to us. Please don’t think I fell out of love; that’s far from the truth. I let the internet win the war in my head for a while, reading articles about how terrible I was as an F1 driver and as a boyfriend. It hurt.”

Lando covered his face, and your heart thumped in your chest. You hadn’t realized he was going through something so painful alone.

“Why didn’t you come to me? You know I’m always on your side. Who cares what articles say about our relationship? They weren’t with us 24/7,” you said.

He nodded. “I know. I guess because I was reading them, I didn’t understand how much it impacted you. I wish I could take back time and tell you how I truly feel, but here we are because of my stupid actions.”

“When I found out you left that day, it hurt. I knew I let the articles win. I lost you that very day. So when I woke up, I knew I had to change myself. That’s why I didn’t ring you or text your friends. I wanted to be a better boyfriend and husband. I heard from Max that you opened a café, and honestly, I was so proud. That’s why I’m here—not just to buy this, but to try to win back what I lost.”

Tears streamed down your face. You wished you had stayed and sorted things out instead of leaving, but now you could see he had changed for the better. You knew he was sincerely sorry.

“I just want to say thank you, Lando. I wish our story had a different ending, but I understand you needed to fix yourself before fixing us. Deep down, I still love you. I miss our memories together. But please, don’t hide everything from me,” you spoke softly, grabbing his hand and pulling him up.

In that moment, you connected your lips, feeling the warmth of a love you had forever missed.

Broken promise may sometimes be fixed relationships may be broken but through the darkness there's always a light under the dark tunnel

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