#muster layouts

[poeticore]

[jils-things]

whoahghmm..... home and im so tuckered out

[jmsmyn]

[certifiablyinsanez]

I am haunted by the detailed, completed map of Hell that Edwin took notes on. You don’t understand, it makes me sick. It’s one thing to have a basic layout, a vague idea, or a rudimentary map but it was meticulously detailed. Down to doors and what they do and where they go. Down to secret spaces in the walls. He even knew what ringing an innocuous bell would do. It can only mean one thing. We don’t know when Edwin began trying to escape, but assuming he started from the get go, it means that he spent all his decades in Hell trying to find a way out. He never stopped running. And that is assuming he never stopped. From his second trip, we could see he resorted to his old ways and ran. But he was eventually caught, reduced to pieces. Even when Charles showed up, he didn’t seem very optimistic about their chances. He could feel every second of those 70 years. There were likely many times he fell to hopelessness, trembling in the corner watching himself be desecrated knowing it was going to happen again and again. How long? How many times did he try to be so, so quiet, hoping he would have a few moments before the next round? How many times did he muster the ability to run, just one more time? How long did it take him to run, discovering the ends of each ring? How many times did he sprint up, down, north, south, east, west, trying to escape? And what happened when he finally escaped? How long did it take for him to be able to relax, even a little? Because he can never relax. He must always outrun Death and her constituents because he can’t count on them to be fair. How many times does he look over his shoulder, waiting for the monster to claim its eternal meal once again? His breath of fresh air, his first taste of companionship in ages not only keeps him company, but sticks by him. And then, in that blessing there comes a curse, because now you have something to lose. Because when you taste ambrosia how can you return to starvation? He feels safe with Charles. Happy and comfortable, but the threat always lingers. And he knows that Charles couldn’t fend off Death. He never considered he could fend off Hell beasts; after all, he’s just a ghost kid. He watches innocents be slaughtered on repeat, unphased by the level of violence but no less affected by it, because no one has even a clue what it takes to be this kind. Even at his most happy, he has so, so much to lose and he goes back to Hell when hope was dangled in his face like the fruit of Tantalus. When he returns, he’s subjected to Hell once again, sustaining through torture that obliterates souls, only to watch his best friend, his confidant, his platonic soulmate, die horrifically. This woman who gave him sea-glass courage, so powerful and yet so fragile. Allowed him to be himself, gave him permission to do so. Was the openness to his closed self, and now she is gone. And he retains his composure, his stiff, British posture because it is what has saved him from madness and Despair, protected him, and now the world is darker without Niko Sasaki in it. But surely he saw this coming. After all, humans are messy. And yet, he shows up for their souls, time and time again.

Edwin Payne is THE character.

[hypnagogics]

before you read ▪︎ loose continuation to THIS

ultra loser!ellie x teasing(slightly sadistic tbh)!reader. reads fine as a standalone!! no fr sex, but still nsfw!!! loads of teasing, ellie's shy and flustered (also gave her glasses and piercings muahahah AND HAPPY TRAIL MENTION YAYYY), reader's a little insistent (but it's ok), mentions of masturbation, discussion of sex, REALLY horny making out at the end lol, heavy petting, they almost do it, tiny abby cameo, buildup AS PER USUAL YALL KNOW THE DRILL, kinda cliffhanger ending (its on purpose HAHA), different layout bc i cheated n looked at the poll oops...NGL TS HAD ME SWEATINGGG WRITING IT LMFAO don't think i have ever written something more horny....ok enjoy! + 2.2k wc

apparently both of you missed the professor's class cancellation email on this fateful day… other students showed up too, but they left quickly after seeing it was empty. ellie stayed to catch up on some work, enjoying the silence and typing away on her laptop, which looked like one of those beefy gaming computers.

covered in stickers and the keys changing color, you thought it was interesting she'd lug that thing around campus with her, instead of opting for something light and sleek. and now that leaves you. you had no other plans for the day, and had already mentally prepared yourself for this class, totally unaware it was canceled.

you realized it wasn't a bad idea to copy ellie, and catch up on some of your own work. however you were more intrigued by her, to be totally honest with yourself.

watching her from a distance, she captivated you. she never seemed to notice your stares, too absorbed in her thoughts. you watched her type, efficiently and quickly, pausing only to push her glasses further up her nose with her slim fingers.

the truth is, she's hot. but no one was hearing you out on that, unfortunately. they'd say to you, “what a loser! i don't think i've ever heard her talk.”

you felt overwhelmed by the urge to strike up a real conversation with her—more that simple greetings or coursework questions— and it was the perfect opportunity to do just that. so you got up, sat yourself down in the empty spot right next to her, and put on the most charming grin you could muster up. she abruptly snapped out of her focus, almost flinching at your presence.

“hey! you're ellie, right? whatcha working on?” you got close to her to see, being met with a bunch of hieroglyphic-looking strings of symbols on the screen. woah, smarty-pants. “um, it's just…some project, i dunno. how d’you know my name?”

she finally looked at you, her eyes round, wider than the ufo saucer stickers on the back of her computer. they were so green, the hazel ring reminded you of a polished agate stone. the scattered freckles on her face were so pretty too, you'd never been close enough to her to really take notice. she nervously scanned your features, blotches of pink blush decorating the apples of her plump cheeks.

she was so cute, and noticing her evident shyness flipped a switch inside you, what if you messed with her a little?

you shrugged at her, “just seen you around. you're so mysterious.” you lilt, manipulating your tone to make it smoother on the ears, even containing hints of seduction if you dared.

she blushed a deeper raspberry shade and looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her rings. she was somehow getting more attractive by the second, your heart felt like it was about to burst.

“am i? never thought of it that way, you're funny.” she mumbles, her antsiness obvious. but you didn't wish to let up so soon, you were having a lot more fun flustering her than you'd ever care to admit, even wanting to see just how far you could push her.

“ooh, i love your rings. where did you get em?” “just…places. why are you asking me so many questions?” you sighed and rolled your eyes, “well, ellie. we both don't have anything else to do, gotta pass the time somehow. i wanna talk with you, is that okay?” she took a deep breath and nodded, visibly relaxing. she stretched out her arm to get rid of the tabs on her computer, close it, and put it in her bag, which is when you got a look at her forearm tattoo.

“also i'm obsessed with your tattoo, you have no idea how cool you are, how are girls not all over you?” you question, taking her wrist in your hands and examining the tattoo's intricate line work, tracing your fingertips over the pigment in her skin.

you heard her breathing change in tempo, quickening ever so slightly. but she didn't move her arm away, and let you continue. she took a second to respond. “um. thanks, i guess. i don't really know what you mean.” her voice cracked when she said the last part, igniting a flame inside you, one that you didn't know existed.

your mind wandered, you began wondering what she sounds like when she whimpers. was she really so starved of human contact you could mold her like putty, just with your fingers and tongue? you wanted to find out so badly, wanted to hear how she'd cry your name out if you fucked her into oblivion. was she a squirter or a creamer? you hoped to the heavens above you'd get to find out someday. maybe it was too much to fantasize like this, considering you formally met just now, but you weren't hurting anyone if it all never left the confines of your mind.

you were lucky you hid your own arousal well, nothing out of the ordinary showed on your face whatsoever. ellie wasn't so lucky—to her dismay, but to your delight—everything played out on her delicate features so clearly, it was nothing short of delectable. 

your eyes bore into hers, the intensity of the eye contact making her shiver, and attempt to break it. “ellie, ellie, ellie, may i call you els?” you didn't wait for an answer, and continued, “do you have a girlfriend?” you pouted your lips at her, feigning sadness as if her response was something you didn't already infer.

she was stuttering now, stumbling over her words, making less and less sense as the conversation went on. she was anxiously bouncing her leg, you could see her chest rising and falling, and her face had turned a lovely crimson color, it was so strong, the flush had spread down her neck and reached her ears, making her piercings stand out. good lord. 

“ahem- no, i don't have a girlfriend. actually never have, shocking i know.” she chuckles at her self-deprecating joke, and while her smile was enough to light up a room, you wanted to slap the doubt out of her. or rather, fuck it out of her. 

you exhaled loudly, “hahh, well isn't that a shame. you're so pretty, i'll just have to snatch you up for myself then.” she swallowed audibly, greatly taken aback. “sorry, what?” “oh, don't you know how much people love losers like you? tsk tsk tsk, you're so much hotter than you realize, i mean it, els. look at you! you've got these piercings, this tattoo, you're smarter than this whole class combined, seriously.” 

she just gaped at you, unable to process what she was hearing. no one had ever talked to her like this, it was only something she read about. and coming from you? this ethereal person who starred in all of her most intimate fantasies? she rubbed her eyes roughly, convinced she was hallucinating. her mouth opened and closed dumbly, her voice box failing to produce any sound. but you were affecting her so much, especially because she lusted after you to an extent she could only take to the grave.

flashes of her midnight escapades flickered in her mind, of her shoving her hand down her pants like an animal in heat, orgasming so intensely she'd black out, abusing her hole with nothing but images of you playing in her mind, and your name on her tongue. her cheeks burned with the embarrassment of her wild actions, and she shook her head to clear the thoughts away. 

you groaned and leaned back in your own seat, exclaiming, “god i'm so bored. and pent up, fuck. it's been so long since i had sex…” that was true. in any other situation you'd never say something like that aloud, but because you were alone with the clueless idiot you wanted so carnally, you let it slip. 

“...maybe you should take care of that.” you heard her cough out, her voice coming out strangled. “i could. but that's boring.” you opened your eyes again and smirked devilishly her way, poor girl looked like she was about to go on a trip with the ferryman. 

you grabbed her hand, examining it some more, commenting, “you play guitar, don't you? guitarists are very good with their hands, i will say.” you played with her hand, pressing it into a fist, then extending her middle and ring finger. gosh, what's gotten into you? “i bet you're sooo good.” 

you've never seen a person look more flustered than she did right now in this moment. her voice was impossibly quiet, barely above a whisper, “cut it out.” “okay, fine.”

some beats of silence passed, but a thought crossed your mind. if she really hated this interaction that much, she could have got up and left eons ago, yet she stayed here and endured it all. hmm. you blurted out, “els, have you kissed anyone before?” 

and again she stayed silent, even after you waited patiently for an answer. she kept looking away, her jaw tense. 

you decided to quit the teasing just for a moment, and speak to her gently, genuinely. you shifted to sit a little closer to her and asked, “do you want to?” her gaze locked onto your mouth, she licked her lips, then muttered, “if you're really offering and not just fucking with me, sure-” 

your patience broke and you didn't wait for her to finish her sentence before swiftly leaning forward and connecting your lips with hers, relishing the tiny gasp she made as soon as you did it. she tasted like a dream.

after a split second she kissed you back, it was inexperienced and clumsy, fueled by adrenaline, but she got into a rhythm soon enough. you took the lead and deepened the kiss, absent-mindedly tugging on her bottom lip with your teeth, coaxing eager whimpers out of her, pure music to your ears.

you succumbed to the sensations and increased the pace, your tongue dancing against hers. you felt her hands fumble by your waist, and she pulled you closer to her. your hands clawed at her chest, the beautiful symphony of panting, the wet smacking of your lips colliding, and her uncontrolled moans filled the empty room.

she gripped your waist so tightly, fingertips surely leaving small marks in their wake, you couldn't wait to find them later, and you shamelessly felt up her chest, your thumbs finding her nipples—perky, hard, and poking out through her thin shirt. you caressed and rubbed and squeezed, feeling her jolt under your magical touch.

she was fully whining now. spilling needy, high-pitched sounds, this was better than you could've ever imagined. neither one of you breaking the kiss for even a second, your hand trailed lower and landed on her stomach, slipping under the bottom of her shirt. you felt her defined abs tensing, and the whisper of a happy trail—now it was your turn to moan.

she got even louder and her kisses got sloppier, and you were about to venture inside her waistband before a sudden sound startled you both. 

your phone vibrated aggressively, and with great effort you separated yourself from ellie, long strings of spit connecting you to her still.

she whimpered from the loss of contact, chasing your lips, then huffing and quietly groaning while you took out your phone, her hands not letting go of your waist. when you checked it, it was a message from your friend, abby, just saying: URGENT. COME HERE NOW. ASAP.

fuck her. fuck her and her timing, was all you could think. really, now? you wanted to kill her.

trying to slow your breathing and racing heart, you explained apologetically, “ugh, it's urgent. im so, so sorry ellie, i gotta go.” she stared at you, speechless, but nodded meekly, reluctantly retracting her arms. you didn't want to leave, and stayed gazing at her for a little longer, and brushed a loose strand of soft hair out of her face. what a cutie, she looked all disheveled and dazed. you were about to look for a paper to scribble down your number to keep in touch, until your phone buzzed again, and started ringing with abby's repeated attempts to get ahold of you. couldn't she wait a minute?

you gave ellie one last devastated look, getting up and rushing out of the classroom before abby called you another seventeen times. 

ellie was left in the classroom, reeling from the encounter and what it had turned into. she was utterly bewildered at the events that transpired, her blood rushing in her ears, mind spinning, lips still puffy, glasses fogged over, hands trembling, and of course a sticky, uncomfortable damp spot in her boxers. she leaned forward to rest her head on the desk in front of her on top of crossed arms, to take a moment to cool down before escaping back to her place. 

“holy shit.” 

im horny🧍‍♂️just like ellie after that. as soon as she got home, u best believe she came so hard she saw literal angels and deities LMFAOO (this is my favorite thing ive ever written gawdDAYUM)

yall who wanted more, hope this suffices as a continuation! @stonerzdaze420692 @womenlvrrr

[welty4ng]

TEAR MY WORLD APART!

call transcript; “adapting is never easy. jiaoqiu supposes he only tolerates it because you’re with him”

cw; spoilers for the current quest !!! f!reader, NSFW (mdni) !! hurt/comfort, fingering (soft sex tbh), not proofread, ugh jiaoqiu i love you so much, fic below the cut, 4.7k words

When Jiaoqiu first returns home, there’s a heavy weight in his chest.

It felt horribly uncomfortable, having Moze walk him all the way from the docks to his house. It felt even worse to have his companion fish his keys from his pockets.

In his mind’s eye, he knows where everything is. He knows where you keep your plants and how to avoid running into them; still, he tips one over, the crunch of dirt beneath his feet ringing sickeningly in his ears. He knows where every corner of his house is; yet, he hits his shoulder when he rounds a corner a little too soon.

Shamefully, it takes him longer than he’d like to find someplace to sit. He’d never thought it to be so humiliating, to realize he spent so many years seeing the layout to his own home without memorizing it.

He’s unsure for how long he sits, the silence deafening and the darkness blinding. There’s a gnawing, ever-growing pit in his stomach at the realization that this might very well be the rest of his life. A shiver runs down his spine. He doesn’t think he’ll enjoy having his senses heightened any more than they already were.

Jiaoqiu jolts when he hears the front door open, his ears perking up. The sound of your footsteps reaches his ears before you call out his name, your voice gentler than he’s ever heard it.

“Hey,” you say, hushed. Jiaoqiu shudders when your hand finds his knee, trying to soothe him. His hands ball into fists on his lap.

“Hey,” he echoes, slightly strained. The weight in his chest grows heavier when you thumb at his knee. It’s horrifying, how he can practically picture the pity on your face — he’d never thought he’d be at the receiving end of it.

“General Feixaio told me what happened,” you whisper. Jiaoqiu’s ears twitch when you cup his face and he immediately nestles into your palm. Your thumb is gentle against his skin, caressing his cheek with the utmost of care. “I’m so sorry, love.”

There’s a lump in his throat, a million words on the tip of his tongue — ‘I’m okay. I’ll be fine. It’s nothing serious. I just need to adapt.’

All that he musters is a quiet, shaky, “I want to see you.”

Jiaoqiu wonders if you look as broken as he sounds.

Being molded into a homebody is not unideal, but Jiaoqiu has far too much to do.

He wonders if that’s why Feixiao sent Moze to inform him of the leave of absence he’d been granted.

It should be welcome. It is, to an extent, when guilt doesn’t chip away at his conscience; when he doesn’t feel like he’s a burden—

The clatter of pots makes him jump, his tail puffing up before matting back down. He exhales, low and unsteady as you call out a sheepish, “Sorry.”

Jiaoqiu doesn’t think he can complain. Not when you’ve carved out time from your schedule to look after him — to help him adjust, or whatever bullshit Moze claimed Feixiao had said. So he’ll endure the ringing in his ears when something is just a little too loud, endure the tangy, bitter smell of something burning, and offer a patient smile, followed by a soft, “It’s okay.”

Because he knows you’re trying.

Cooking was never your thing. He’d never let it be, because, why would he ever let you dirty your hands when he could do it instead?

Part of himself feels guilty that you’ve been forced into a myriad of things that fell under his attention. It’s an ever-growing sense of uselessness that weighs on his chest, burrowing deeper with every ‘tap’ of the knife on the cutting board.

He presses his back against the wall, trying to suppress the familiar urge to take over the cooking for you. A knot forms in his throat when he hears you softly hiss, his eyes yearning to open and treat whatever wound you must’ve gotten.

When a soft rush of water reaches his ears, he inches off the wall just enough, taking a step toward the noise. It feels slightly disorienting, trying to guide himself simply through hearing. Still, he tries, awkwardly stumbling in your direction with an outstretched hand.

A shaky exhale leaves his lips when he touches your shoulder, his tail awkwardly flicking to the side when you jolt at the contact.

“Let me help,” he whispers, his fingers instinctively squeezing your shoulder. There’s something so horrid about being able to hear your breaths before you even speak. He loathes how clear he can hear your breath falter as you hesitate.

“Jiaoqiu, you—”

“Please.” He’s tired of feeling useless. He has enough to deal with, now that his eyesight is gone indefinitely. He wants to help — to be of use, even if it’s just a little.

The weight in his stomach sinks deeper when you gingerly clutch his wrist. For a moment, he expects you to drop his hand and lead him back to the spot on the wall he’s claimed as his own. Instead, you bring his hand up to your face, letting his knuckles brush against your skin.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” you murmur, gentle as you press a kiss to the back of his hand. Jiaoqiu wonders what expression you’re making; wonders if it’s pity or sympathy.

He takes a step closer, his front bumping against yours before his free hand shoots out to hold onto the edge of the counter for balance. “Let me do something, at least,” he pleads, a vague hint of desperation lacing his words.

Your breaths fan his face, tickling his skin in a way that has his tail swaying.

“Please,” he whispers, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

There’s a brief moment of hesitance before you ask, “What do you want to do?”

Jiaoqiu’s heart hammers in his chest, a ticklish sort of hope flooding his being. His hand trembles against your face, softly squeezing your own when you grasp it.

“Anything,” he breathes out. “It doesn’t have to be cooking or cleaning or — just let me do anything.”

When your grip on his hand falters, he grasps it tighter, resting them on your cheek. The smell of something burnt fills his senses, but he can’t find it in himself to care; not when he can feel the faint warmth of your skin. “I want to be of use to you.”

His ears twitch when you sigh, his hand trembling lightly against your face. He can imagine the expression you’re making — pursed lips and furrowed brows, deep in thought. Still, he yearns to see it.

“You can help me stir the pot,” you offer, a hint of hesitance to your voice.

The weight in his chest lightens just a little, his fingers tightening around your own in a light squeeze. “Alright.”

It’s a shred of normalcy, he supposes; even if he’s just swirling a ladle. For a moment, it reminds him of a simpler time, back when he was younger and still learning to fend for himself. The soft ‘tap’ of the knife against the cutting board fills his ears, accompanied by your faint humming.

Will you let him keep helping you? Jiaoqiu can’t help but wonder. Would you let him stop being a burden? Do you even think of him as a burden? He hopes — prays — you don’t. He hopes you let him stay by your side, even if all he can do is rot.

It’s all he wants.

So, when you lead him to your dining table, trying to distract him from the scent of burnt meat, he’ll entertain you. He’ll keep his complaints to himself, even if the soup is far too salty; the noodles are a little too undercooked; and the cubed beef is a bit too charred.

You’re both trying, he reminds himself. Perhaps that’s why he can’t find it in himself to care much when he can hear the ‘snap’ of a noodle between his molars. There’s a slight tingle in his tongue by the time he’s done eating.

Still, Jiaoqiu doesn’t complain. Instead, he smiles, softening when your hand grasps his own beneath the table, squeezing twice in a comforting gesture.

“Thank you,” he whispers, hushed. When your breath hitches, a lump forms in his chest. Quickly, he adds, “For everything.”

For a moment, he supposes the only good thing about being blind is that he doesn’t have to see you cry. Though, he supposes it’s worse, hearing you hold back from it — hearing you struggle to remain composed.

When he opens his arms, you rush into him, leaving your chair behind and opting to perch in his lap — just like you’d always done. He holds you closer, instinctively; though, he rubs at your back with hesitance, almost trying to map out the length of your back.

He shudders when you wet the side of his neck. It feels more present, now that his world is shrouded in pitch black. Your cries sound louder, even when quiet and muffled by his skin.

“I’m sorry.” Jiaoqiu’s unsure if the apology is his or yours, the weight growing tenfold in his chest and ringing in his ears.

He can’t tell if the sobs are still yours, either.

Jiaoqiu learns to rise when you do. His routine morphs into your own, despite your insistence that he rest longer.

Staying in bed doesn’t feel the same without you, he’d argued. You were quick to relent after that.

His feet drag on the floor behind yours, his grip tight around the back of your nightshirt. There’s a dull ache in his head. He bumps into you when you stop, a quick apology tumbling from his lips before he can stop it.

When the sound of rushing water reaches his ears, they twitch, recognizing the familiarity. His hands perch on the edge of the counter, letting go of your clothes. It never takes long for him to hear the soft rustle of fabric falling onto the floor. It never takes long for him to fumble with his buttons, either, before you come to his aid.

“Will you help me wash my hair again?” he asks, quiet as you ease the fabric off his shoulders.

“If you want me to,” you reply, gentle as you help him out of his pants. When your fingers brush against his lower abdomen, he shivers, his tail puffing up as he sucks in a sharp inhale.

Jiaoqiu’s hand leaves the counter, moving to cup your cheek in a practiced (albeit clumsy) movement. Part of himself still feels like a fumbling fool when you move his hand just a little lower, correcting the placement. Still, you never mention it.

A voice in the back of his head tells him he should reject your offer for help — tells him he’s been more than enough of a burden by making you spend more time ensuring he’s clean than you do yourself. Then, a gentler, kinder voice reminds him you’d expressed your satisfaction at being able to aid him. Pride never stands a chance, when it comes to your delight; he realized this soon after meeting you.

So, he lets his finger brush against the apple of your cheek, his voice softening as he says, “I do.”

It’s become almost instinctive, following you. There’s always a certain gentleness with which you hold his hands, guiding him forward as you step into the shower. He hears the quiet scuff of a stool (your insistence, not his) being dragged across the tiles. Your hands remain gentle as you guide him to sit.

“Tell me if I scrub too hard, okay?” The statement is almost unnecessary, truly. You’ve never once treated him with something other than overwhelming delicateness — like he’s made of porcelain. Jiaoqiu considered himself tough, before losing his eyesight. He thinks that shell was stripped from him alongside his vision. He wonders if you know it, too — wonders if that’s why you touch him like he’s seconds away from breaking beneath your touch.

Still, all he says is, “Okay.” Then, after a moment, “Thank you.”

A lump forms in his throat at the beat of silence, his heart hammering in his chest. Aeons, he wants to see your expression — he needs it so desperately. It’s become hard to tell whether he says the right thing or not. Sometimes, he wonders if he oversteps. There are a million words at the tip of his tongue, all of them longing to spill out.

Something soft presses against his forehead, gentle and so, so soft. Two hands cup his jaw, holding him in place before drawing him in. His arms wrap around your middle almost instinctively, his face burrowing into your chest.

“I want to see you,” he whispers, his words muffled by your skin.

Your lips press against the top of his head, tender. Jiaoqiu melts when you cup the back of his head, holding him in place. He wonders if you realize how soothing your heartbeat is to him, currently. Your fingers weave through peachy strands, washing out the shampoo suds from his hair.

“I know,” you reply, your voice barely audible. “We’ll figure it out, love.”

A soft noise rumbles in the back of his throat, his ears twitching and tickling your skin. “Promise?”

“Promise,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head one last time.

For a moment, something akin to hope blossoms in his chest. It’s the first time he’s felt it, since losing his vision, Jiaoqiu notes.

Normal still feels out of place, though not as much anymore. It’s become a faint, lingering feeling in the back of his mind.

There’s still a vague sense of discomfort at being surrounded by darkness constantly. Jiaoqiu supposes it’s only through the habit of touching that he reminds himself he’s not alone.

He’s only grateful you indulge him, even if it must be a bother to have him hovering and pestering just to stick to you.

The streets of the Yaoqing — have they ever been this noisy? Jiaoqiu can’t tell. It’s uncomfortable, how loudly everything rings in his ears. He thinks he would rather trade the boisterous noise for the bright, vivid colors he used to complain about.

“We’ll head home soon,” you reassure, squeezing his hand as tight as you can. For a moment, he wonders if his distress is palpable (he concludes that, for you, it must be).

“You shouldn’t rush,” he replies, his words trailing off into a quick apology when someone bumps into his shoulder. His hand squeezes yours — the mere thought of separating from you makes his heartbeat spike in anxiety. Jiaoqiu softly clears his throat, quickly adding, “I’m fine, really.”

Neither of you seem to believe it, though you don’t call him out on the lie. Instead, you slow your pace even more to loop your arm with his.

“I was thinking,” you start, pulling him just a little closer to you as you walk, “We could get the ingredients for those noodles you like.”

Jiaoqiu hums, trying to ignore the way the corners of his lips curl up. “That would be nice,” he says, trying to keep his steps matched to yours.

“You could help me make them,” you offer, gently tugging him closer before someone brushes against his arm.

His steps falter for a moment. When he takes a second too long to reply, you rush to add, “Only if you want to.”

A lump forms in his throat, agreement sitting on the tip of his tongue. All he does is exhale. His heart hammers in his chest, thundering loud in his ears. You’re looking at him — he doesn’t need his vision to tell. A hushed, barely audible whisper leaves his lips when you call his name.

“Is it still too soon?” you ask, a hint of worry in your voice. Your hold on him tightens just a little. “I-I figured, maybe it had been long enough to try and ease you back into things you used to do. We can just pretend I didn’t say any—”

“I want to,” Jiaoqiu says, his voice wavering. He isn’t sure when his breath picked up, but he can feel his chest heaving. His tail lightly sways when you place your hand above his own, thumbing at his knuckles.

“Okay.” Your voice feels as soft as your touch. It tickles his nerves, sending a flutter through the pit of his stomach and down to his core.

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours (a jolt of satisfaction in his chest at the lack of clumsiness). His ears twitch when the pad of your thumb lightly presses into his knuckle. 

“Okay,” he echoes, trying to match your tone. Jiaoqiu softens, gently rubbing his forehead against your own.

Warmth blooms in his chest when you whisper. The market’s ruckus feels like white noise as your words ring in his ears. Like instinct, his lips part before replying in earnest. “I love you, too.”

He wonders if it’s your face that’s burning up, or if it’s his.

It pains him a little, just how long it’s taken him to ask this of you.

Jiaoqiu feels you shift beneath him, adjusting your position before wrapping your legs around his waist again. He softly exhales, tracing the slope of your cheek with the utmost of care. His heart hammers away in his chest, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Don’t move,” he whispers, breathless as he pokes at the fat of your cheek. When you sigh, he lets himself cup your face, the pad of his thumb lightly pressing into the hollow beneath your eye.

“How much longer are you going to do this for?” you ask, curiosity lacing your voice. Jiaoqiu softens, his tail swaying when you lean into his touch.

“Until I’m sure I’ve memorized everything.”

“I thought you already knew my face by heart?” you reply. The corners of his lips curl up into a smile when he hears yours. He gently pinches your cheek, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips.

“I do,” he says, loud enough so it’s meant for your ears only. “I just want to make sure I know it, deep in my soul.”

A soft hum leaves his lips when you squeeze his waist. His hand moves, his thumb tracing the shell of your ear.

“How smooth,” you mumble, brushing a few peachy strands away from his face.

“I want to make sure it’s all like I remember,” he murmurs, complying when you pull him up with your legs. Jiaoqiu’s ears twitch when his nose bumps against yours, a breathless chuckle slipping past his lips.

His hand trails down, his thumb brushing your lower lip. When you gently kiss the digit, his breath hitches. He cups your jaw, trying to find an angle. You simply follow his lead, letting him lead.

He thumbs at the corner of your lips, your breath fanning against his skin. His mouth presses against yours in the softest — faintest — of kisses. When you sigh, he lets himself mold against you. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, his tail swaying when you grant him access.

There’s a hint of desperation behind his actions. Jiaoqiu wonders if you can tell, by the way his tongue licks at your mouth — almost like he’s trying to memorize the way you taste.

He barely gives you any reprieve, breaking the kiss to catch the slightest of breaths before he’s attached to your lips once more. When his name leaves your lips between kisses, heat pools in his stomach. It’s a feeling he’d thought dormant since he’d lost his sight.

Jiaoqiu doesn’t think he’d mind its resurgence — not after the way you part with a whined gasp, struggling to catch your breath. His lips press against the corner of your mouth, then lower, until he’s kissing a trail down to the spot beneath your jaw.

When you struggle to hold back a moan, heat shoots through his veins. Your hands find the back of his head, your fingers tangling in peachy strands. He complies when you help him up, cupping his face before capturing his lips with your own.

For a moment, Jiaoqiu wonders if you taste sweeter than he remembers.

“Guide me.”

“Hm?”

A soft, huffed chuckle escapes Jiaoqiu’s lips. His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb applying a delicate pressure beneath your eye. He feels you shift on the bed, your legs tangling with his own.

“Guide me,” he repeats, his ears twitching when you yawn. A gentle noise rumbles in his chest, his body pressing closer to yours and his hand moving lower to let his thumb press against the corner of your mouth. Then, he leans down, his lips replacing the digit.

Heat pools in his stomach at the sigh you let out. His tail lightly sways, the ends puffing out when he nips at your lower lip. “You’ve been patient for long enough,” he murmurs, gently ghosting a kiss over your lips.

“Jiaoqiu—”

“No excuses,” he says, “Please.”

After a light kiss, he adds, “Let me do this for you.”

For a moment, he wonders if it’s your heartbeat he hears, instead of his own. He lets his hand leave your face to rest on the underside of your breast, relishing how your breaths stutter.

“You’ve done more than enough for me,” Jiaoqiu reasons, his voice tender as he moves his face closer to the crook of your neck. “I ought to express my gratitude,” he whispers, noting how you shudder as his breath tickles your skin. He presses his lips against the underside of your jaw — right at the spot he knows makes your breath hitch and your thighs clench. “Shouldn’t I?”

“I didn’t do anything with the intention of getting something in return,” you say. He catches on to the quiver to your tone when his ears twitch. His teeth graze your jaw, soft and experimental as he thumbs at the lower part of your breast.

“Isn’t that reason enough to accept my gratitude with open arms, then?”

You shudder, your hand moving to perch on his shoulder when he trails kisses down to your collarbone. “We both know what your gratitude entails, Jiaoqiu.”

He softly clicks his tongue, letting his canines graze against your skin. The hand on your chest inches upward, moving until his thumb reaches your pert nipple. “Even more reason for you to accept, hm?”

His touch softens when you sigh.

“Isn’t it a little too soon—?”

“I think I should be the one to decide that,” Jiaoqiu mumbles. He presses a soft kiss to your collarbone. 

There’s a slight hesitance to your actions — how you seem to mull over his words. His tail sways, lightly rubbing against the bedsheets as your fingers run through his locks.

“Still, I—” your breath catches, your words interrupted by a wanton whine when delicately rolls your nipple between his fingers. 

Heat shoots through his nerves, fueling the fire in his stomach as he pictures your expression — your face all scrunched up, but your lips parted as you pant. Jiaoqiu slows the barrage of kisses on your skin, softy exhaling.

He wants to see it, so, so desperately.

He wants to feel and touch and see. His ears twitch when you sigh his name, breathless. A soft growl rumbles in his chest in response before he presses an open-mouthed kiss on your collarbone.

“Let me take care of you,” he quietly pleads. “You shouldn’t have to suppress your own needs for my own.”

“I’m not—”

Jiaoqiu nips at your collarbone to cut off your words, his tongue gently soothing the spot. “Don’t lie to me,” he murmurs, his words slightly muffled by your skin. “Not when I hear clearer than I ever could.”

Your grip on his hair falters, your breath hitching. He wonders what expression you wear — are you flustered or taken aback? Or is it something entirely different? 

“Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean I can’t touch you like I used to,” he breathes out, gently rolling your nipple between his fingers. You tug on his hair, your breaths uneven. His lips trail kisses along the expanse of your collarbone. “You just need to guide me.”

His fingers leave your nipple, drawing a soft whine from your lips as he trails them down to your hip.

“It’s about time you replace your fingers with my own, after all,” he rasps, kissing a path back up to your jaw, “Isn’t it?”

His ears twitch when a strained whimper slips past your lips. He nips at your skin before pressing a feather-light kiss on the spot. Heat floods the pit of his stomach when you nod against his head, your hand resting atop the one on your hip.

“You’ve been more than patient, love,” Jiaoqiu whispers, his tail twitching against the sheets as you help his hand down between your thighs. He shudders an exhale, his fingers inquisitive as they search for your clit. His breaths become heavy, fanning against your jaw in a way so ticklish that your thighs instinctively press together.

A choked whine leaves your lips, your fingers curling in his hair. “‘s n-nothing,” you murmur, your voice trembling.

He gently clicks his tongue, his thumb pressing against you once he finds your bud. “It’s not ‘nothing,’” he replies, rubbing his nose along your jaw as he begins to circle your clit. “It’s never easy to care for a patient.”

You mewl, lightly jolting when his index finger prods around in search of your entrance. “W-wait,” you stammer, your hand moving to aid his own. His tail thumps faintly against the bed when his fingertips ghost above your folds.

“Here we go,” he whispers, unable to keep the elation from his voice. For a moment, he wonders if you’ve realized the selfish intentions behind his idea to thank you.

Though, he’s sure that even if you have, you probably don’t mind. Jiaoqiu knows how tired you must be from fingering yourself in his stead. Your fingers were never as good as his at bringing you pleasure, after all.

The corners of his lips curl up into a small smirk, his finger pumping in and out of you with practiced ease. “That’s nice, isn’t it, love?” he asks, his voice a soft coo.

“M-mhm,” you shakily hum, slowly rocking your hips against his digit to match his pace.

“Your sweet cunt just needed my fingers, didn’t it?”

He can’t hold back the purr in the back of his throat when you nod, your fingers fisting his peachy strands when he pushes a second finger into your folds.

“N-needed them s-so bad—!” you cry, your voice cracking. Your free hand grasps at his forearm, your breath quick and uneven pants. “‘s never the same when t-they’re mine…”

Jiaoqiu gently shushes you, peppering kisses against the underside of your jaw. “I know, love,” he coos, his voice full of sympathy. “I’ll take care of it for you.”

You moan, your breath hitching as your walls flutter around his fingers. When they curl, you cry, your hips desperately rocking against his hand. “J-Jiaoqiu—”

“Close already?” he asks, though he fails to hide the smile from his voice. You huff and he chuckles, a sense of satisfaction settling in his gut. How long has it been since he’s felt that — felt anything other than a weight in his chest?

Jiaoqiu can’t be bothered to wonder. Not when your cunt spasms around his fingers, your broken cries and moans rising in volume the more he curls his digits against the spongy spot in your folds.

“That’s it, love,” he breathes out, his voice a heavy rasp. “Let go for me.”

When you cry, he can only picture the expression on your face — can only imagine you look just like you’ve always done when you cum. His chest aches for just a moment, then lightens when you mewl his name.

“T-thank you,” you whisper, your words slightly slurred. Jiaoqiu softens when you kiss the top of his head. 

“I should be the one thanking you,” he replies, hushed. He nuzzles into you, slowly pulling his fingers out of your cunt. His chest rises and falls, weightless for the first time in weeks. “For everything.”

[lov3rmir]

LOVE SIGN !

CONTENT INVOLVE

✦ — summary: domestic moment with genshin men. al-haitham / kinich / neuvillette. ✦ — cw: mention of injuries (kinich) ⁞ suggestive (neuvillette) ⁞ ajaw being an opp ⁞ mentions of intimacy but nothing nsfw (neuvillette) ⁞ 1.3k wc ⁞ just testing some layouts ⁞ not proof read we die like tingyun ⁞ a ref to a manhwa (neuvillette).

AL-HAITHAM — SLEEPING IN.

The morning’s sunlight peeked through the drawn curtains. Two sleeping figures were tangled in a mess of blankets. 

Al-haitham’s arms encircled around your waist, pressing your back further in his chest. Soft snores coming off you as he sleepily admires you. Your eyelashes resting on your cheeks, fluttering just the slightest as you begin to awake. 

He only continues to stare, his eyes often glancing down at your lips. He leans in closer, until your lips ghostly touch his. He presses a kiss in the corner of your lips, moving up to your cheeks. All while you stir and struggle to wake up. 

“G’morning love”, he whispers against your skin. His hands kneading at your hips, drawing odd shapes and pinching you when you start to fall back asleep. 

You groan, shifting to face him. He lets you, loosening his grips until you comfortably hide yourself in the crook of his collarbone. “Mornin’...” you groggily greet. Your own hands pushing him back into you. He was comfortable.

Al-haitham chuckles, adoring you even more. “You’re adorable.” 

You enjoy these moments. 

Moments where you get to experience the softer side of Al-haitham. The side which only you are privileged to see. Contrary to the usual snarky remarks his mouth breathes, soft words laced with un-denying love and affections spill out whenever you are in the privacy of your home.

You hum, almost melting into him. 

Until he ruined the moment, “You need to get up, you have work, remember?”

“Al-haitham!! Who cares, I’ll call in sick and spend the day with you in bed.”

“Seems like a good plan.”

Even though he will never admit it, Al-haitham loves moments like these. Maybe skipping work is worth it if it means he gets to hold you more.

KINICH — COOKING TOGETHER.

“Ingredients?” hands on your hips, you smiled at Kinich. 

“There.” He jabbed his thumb towards the row of ingredients.  “Did you go blind when you woke up?” Always the extra comment with Ajaw.

“Aprons?” Ignoring the flying pixels, you continued on with your checklist. Kinich looked you up and down, eyes lingering on the ‘Kiss the cook’ apron you were currently wearing. “Check.” 

“No it’s not! You aren’t wearing yours!” turning around you reached for the bright pink apron resting on the counter. And just as you walked closer to Kinich, the latter took a step back. This continued on until he was back to back with the wall. 

An obvious displeased expression could be seen. He eyed the apron as though it just killed his family. “No.” 

“Come on, it'll be funny! ” you pushed the apron on his face. Giving him your best convincing smile. “Pretty please?” batting your eyelashes at him, trying to muster up a kicked-puppy look that will push him to wear the apron. 

Kinich groaned as he took the apron from your hands, looking between it and your pleading eyes. And with a defeated sigh, he put it on. 

You had to admit it clashed on him. Suppressing your laugh, you regretted not bringing a kamera to capture the moment. 

“Simp!” Ajaw wheezed at the sight of Kinich's serious face clashing with the bright pink apron. His pixelated body was twirling as he couldn't stop the laughs from escaping him. “You look so dumb! Maybe you should add a frilly hat and say in a cutesy tone ‘of course master!’ C’mon say it with me! Of course mas—” Ajaw didn’t have the time to finish his sentence before he was shoved into the oven, Kinich turning on the heat.

“Hey wait, you aren’t actually going to cook him?”

Kinich only stared dead in the eye, “I always wanted to taste dragon's meat. Do you think it will have a trash type of taste? Considering this dragon I won’t be surprised.” 

With no hesitation, Kinich slowly turned up the heat in the oven. “You ungrateful scum! How dare you do this to your almighty dragon! Hey– Kinich! Let me out, it’s getting hotter!” 

The distress calls were muffled, but you could hear Ajaw clearly. (with his normal volume, you bet you could still hear him even from miles away.) Exasperated, you sighed. Placing your hands on Kinich’s shoulder, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Come on, let him out, I’m sure he learned his lesson.” 

“Another.” he muttered, “Huh?” What did he want? More of what?. “Another kiss and I’ll let him out.” blinking twice, a giggle erupted. You held his face in your hands, bringing him closer to you. Your lips finally on his. Kinich savored the moment. Ignoring the distant cries of the annoying pixel.

He already turned off the oven, it’s fine if you stayed like this for a while. No?

NEUVILLETTE — BATHING & GOSSIP.

The Ludex has many duties. Some leave him with a heavy burden to carry. Many times has the Ludex questioned the very foundation of justice. Many times Neuvillette wished the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale would deliver a different judgment. 

Neuvillette was convinced if he didn’t have you by his side, archons knew how crazy he would have turned. 

But he had you. He had you to sooth his cries in the midst of the night, he had your sweet voice whispering words of love— lulling him back to sleep. Neuvillette had you to anchor him. And he will forever be grateful to have met you.

Another way you used to relax him, was coaxing him into taking a bath together. 

He had been intimate with you many times. But somehow, taking a bath with you felt more. . .emotional. 

Not the sexual intimacy you often experienced whenever the mood was right, no. This was more.

And his belief was reinforced as your fingers combs through his hair. Shampoo being gently massaged on his scalp. The Hydro dragon caught himself falling asleep too much he had lost count. 

But could anyone blame him? Neuvillette was smitten by you.

“Enjoying yourself, handsome?” Has he mentioned how sweet your voice was? Neuvillette feels as though he mentioned it too little. Leaning into your touch, the man hummed, “I would die before I ever not enjoy your touch my love.” 

“Ever the charmer, maybe you could give a few tips to Maxwell.” you giggled, recounting about Maxwell who sucked at flirting with his crush. Neuvillette could recite every rumor that circled around in society in the past months. 

You always kept him updated, sometimes barging in his office during working hours (he never minds. He actually thanked you for giving him a breathing moment to forget about all the paperwork and trials.) retelling how you overheard a couple recently broke up due to one of the partners cheating and taking all the money their partner gained through hard labor.

(“You might want to expect a case about this! And promise me when you do, give me ALL the details!”) 

Neuvillette finds himself indulging your little hobby. Giving you small details from cases and moments during trials. 

(“About the cheating scandal from last week, apparently the one he cheated on with was the step-sister of his girlfriend. And what more, the step-mother was the one behind the money stealing.”

“No way!! Poor girl, I hope she is better now..”

“Oh she is. I checked up on her earlier this week and she had found a better man. Black hair and red eyes. As for her family and partner, the step-sister is currently working as a maid and the step-mother was charged with murder of her deceased husband and attempted murder of her step-daughter. ”

“Gasp! Oh you have to tell me everything that went down!”)

Neuvillette was content with indulging you, but he was happier to listen to your sweet voice. 

“Love, could you tell me more about your day? Or just anything will do. I would like to hear your voice more.” you chuckled quickly agreeing and going on a tangent. 

The Ludex was lucky to have you. 

©— lov3rmir. 2024

[trulyumai]

Sweet Taste of Nectar

Pairing: Messmer the Impaler / Wife! Reader

Warnings: Rough Smut

Synopsis: he liked to be rough with his wife, sure, but she adored it.

A/N: I’m trying a new layout to my writing, let me know if it’s any better!

Listen and read with a Messmer playlist I designed for the stories!

messmer could die a happy man, with such a sight to gaze upon.

his victories held no contest against such a feat displayed before him.

the man watched her bounce languidly upon his lap; hands upon his shoulders with a tight grip.

up and down his wife went, grinding against his hips with fervor, moans escaping her with each push and shove made inside her warm mound.

“please,” she had begged out, voice easing over the squelches echoing inside the chamber.

“so pretty,” he whispered. his eyes— never once straying from her moving breasts, catching them ever so often with his heat induced hands.

He knew she had to be close, the way her orbs glossed over with a light sheen, sweat dabbed across her brow and her legs stiffened with a tight pressure around the man’s hips.

she puffed out air as her neck leaned back tiredly. a simmering burn made its way across her stomach, to the middle of her core and she wanted it out— craved the much needed release just as much as he did.

messmer could no longer wait, for his patience had run thin. his torso sat up, pushing the girl to be underneath his lanky form.

her head dangled off the bed, sweat stuck to her skin like a cheap perfume.

“it— hah, you promised I could lead,” the girls shoulders shook with wanted need, and the man scoffed while looping her leg around his waist. his toned arms held up her legs easily, and it would have been impressive if she wasn’t numbed from the many hours of love making.

“pretty wife,” he was smiling now. it was small, didn’t reach his lust filled eyes.

his hips pulled back before he slammed roughly into her.

her head reeled back with a snap, a groan overtook her as the man slapped against her lower half with more speed than she could ever muster.

one hand free, he reached out to find the slim neck it craved to hold— to squeeze until she begged him to utterly destroy her, to fill her with as much seed as he possible could.

his fingers wrapped around the delicate skin as he picked up a steady pace. hitting her favorite spot over, over and over again.

“—nnngh,” the girls eyes rolled back uncontrollably, wet tears grazed her lashes, and fell down in waves upon her cheeks from the drawn on pleasure the man fed her.

he needed to hear it. taste the much desired words across his tongue.

pumping harder, faster, the bed piece creaked out in response. The wood squealed with every increase of the man’s pace.

“say it,” the knight demanded.

“say it, pretty wife,”

everything felt so numb. over and over he hit against her lower lips— and she could once more feel the fire in her belly build up.

messmer tightened his hold upon her throat, a low whine escaped her lips.

“say it!”

“I—,” the pace was perfect; the roughness the girl had needed and desired all day was finally here. her fingers swiped away at the tears that fell, mouth falling agape in the process. drool leaked out instantly, the man lapped it up, his pink tongue dragged across her chin slowly.

“—fill me. I—I’m all yours, my hus-husband!” the man shuddered, his form sagged against hers with his hips giving one final slam, letting both their juices run freely down his pale thighs.

looking down at the messy haired girl, he let out a laugh.

hair poked in each direction and sweat and spit swept over her body.

not caring for the sticky feeling across her thighs she groaned out, reaching to put her hands around the back of Messmer’s neck.

“bath?” he questioned; knowing that his wife must feel dirty

“bath,” she agreed. her eyes closed instantly while the flame picked up her sagging body, leading her to the tub just across the hall.

she did nothing but lean against him, as he washed and kissed every inch of her body.

it wasn’t until they returned back to their newly sheeted bed, that they exchanged pleasantries.

“i love you, dear wife,” lips molded against her forehead, down to her temple and cheek.

she hummed.

“and i you, my husband.”

[trivia-yandere]

with love... k.nj

your valentine's date with namjoon was a success - to bad you don't know who he truly is.

@sweetempathprunetree @momnomnom @darkuni63 @minshookie29 @whipwhoops

word count: 3.944

warning: stalking, yandere themes, dark themes, non-con, unsolicited touching/groping/kissing, somnophilia, public indecency, masturbation, non-con oral, alcohol intake, nipple sucking, cumshot,

valentines day masterlist

“Nam…joon...” his name sounds so sweet coming from your lips, Namjoon thinks. It’s slurred only a bit due to the alcohol in your system. 

“Yes?” Namjoon smiles down at you, a dimpled smile that has your heart racing because of how handsome he looks now. “Let’s get you home, Y/N.”

“Home…” you murmur.

Namjoon has a protective arm around you to keep you in place. You were heavily intoxicated and he was a bit tipsy, but he understood that in order to get you home safe he couldn’t drink as much as you. 

The moon shines bright above the two of you as you both walk down the quiet road. It’s a bit chilly and Namjoon is thankful that he brought an extra scarf so that you'll remain warm in this weather. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Namjoon asks rhetorically. He knows you did - you were nothing but fits of laughter all throughout the night. You danced and swayed your hips to the music, drank with no worries in the world and smiled so sweetly at him that it caused his heart to swell.

“Yes.” you murmur, your eyelids began to feel heavy and you wanted nothing more than to be greeted with your bed soon. “The date was nice. T-Thank you.”

Namjoon hums in satisfaction.

It was your first date with Namjoon - conveniently on Valentine’s day. He had mustered up the courage to speak to you after a few months of quietly gaining up the confidence to do so - his eyes setting on you each morning as the pair of you left for work. You lived directly across from him in an apartment you shared with your mother -  a sweet lady.

Namjoon’s mind begins to recall the events of the date - it wasn’t typical as most Valentine’s dates are. Restaurants were booked to full capacity and even cafe’s appeared to be busy. You insisted karaoke was okay when he mentioned it, and thus started the date - you and him drinking while belting out lyrics like your lives depended on it. 

The karaoke bar was nearly empty and that meant that it was something special for just the two of you - just you and Namjoon. You danced and swayed your hips as the alcohol ran through your system, a wide smile on your lips. 

You were teasing him, Namjoon thinks. Teasing him with the dress you wore - a white dress that hugs you perfectly and left little to the imagination. He likes to think that you wore it specifically for him - wanting him to see just how amazing you looked in it; how perfect your ass sat in it.

Yes - Namjoon knows you teased him nonstop. In the karaoke bar when you chose that song - a song where you had to sway your hips and give him such sensual eyes. Tease him with how close you’d sit to him when the pair of you ate, how you’d touch him when he’d say a joke and you’d laugh heartily.

Even now, you continued to tease him. You leaned against his arm and held onto him so tightly that Namjoon knows you don’t want him to go. 

The apartment building was now in sight and Namjoon knows that you don’t want him to go - you seem to clench on his arm even tighter at just the thought. “You should drink some water, Y/N. It would be good for you.”

You nod in agreement, the pair of you now strolling down the hall to your apartment. You and him are in front of your door and it doesn’t strike you as odd when Namjoon already knows the code to get inside. 

Your apartment is similar to his as far as layout. He knows where the kitchen is and it's where he goes to get you some water. Again, it doesn’t strike you as odd as it should; how comfortable Namjoon is in your home. 

Namjoon hears you shuffling down the hallway, no doubt to your bedroom. He rummages through your cabinets to find a cup - and when he does he fills it with ice and pours the water inside.

“Y/N-”

Namjoon sighs when he enters your bedroom - the door cracked slightly. There's little light, only from the moon shining slightly through your window.

You were asleep already, soft snores could be heard. Namjoon thinks you look cute - you didn’t even manage to get out of your clothes yet. 

Namjoon shuts the door behind him with a huff, coming around the corner to your bed. He places the cup of water down on your bedside table. “You still have the flowers I sent you.”

You had them all, Namjoon notes, even the ones from when he first started to send them to you. They’re on both sides of your bedside table and even some on the floor by them - Namjoon couldn’t help but smile.

‘These are for you.’ your mother signs, pointing to the large bouquet of flowers in her hand. She had just walked through the door as you were finishing up washing the dishes. 

You tilt your head, eyes scanning the large bouquet - it’s sunflowers wrapped neatly in pink wrapping. ‘Does it say who it's from?’ you signed back, taking a few steps forward to grab the bouquet. ‘There’s a note.’ you sign, grabbing the bouquet of flowers.

‘You never told me you had an admirer.’ your mother signs back, a smirk forming on her lips.

‘I don’t.’ you snicker to yourself, placing the bouquet of flowers upon your kitchen table and grabbing the note. It comes in a pink envelope sealed tightly.

“I repeatedly dream of you when my eyes are laid to sleep.

Often, I think of your golden hue whenever my mind plunges deep”

You re-read the words a few times before shaking your head. The bottom is signed - k.nj.

You don’t know anyone with those initials - but you don’t allow yourself to dwell. You’re sure that the flowers probably weren’t even for you and instead, were for someone else. Maybe it was delivered to the wrong house. Such sweet words can not be addressed to you when you are single.

However, you kept the flowers - what were you suspected to do? Throw them away? They were pretty and even if the card wasn’t addressed to you, you’d pretend they were.

“I know you enjoyed my little gifts, Y/N. I’d see the smile on your lips when you got them.” Namjoon murmurs to you, a hand gently stroking your cheek. “So beautiful, Y/N. Teasing me right now…”

There’s a whine that releases from Namjoon’s throat as his hand trails down your cheek to your jaw then your exposed neck. You had teased him relentlessly the entire night with this dress - the same dress that was now rising up your thighs to expose your smooth skin. 

“You are such a little tease, baby. Wearing this dress knowing it would drive me crazy.” Namjoon shakes his head, his pants tightening with excitement. “You shouldn’t be sleeping in this. You’ll be uncomfortable.”

Namjoon was going to take off your dress and assure you were tucked in for bed like you should be. Your snores get softer as he hoists you up, his fingers grasping the small zipper behind your back. He slowly pulls it down, a hand rubbing along your bare back and he shudders.

“So beautiful.” Namjoon murmurs when your dress is off of you. Your breast naturally falls as he lays you back onto the bed, your nipples erect due to the cool air of your bedroom. 

Namjoon gently folds your dress and places it aside. His eyes glance your way just as you shuffled. He begins to think you’re waking up, but you only move to get more comfortable - widening your legs slightly.

Namjoon hums. “You want me to look at you?” he asks, in a voice so soft that even he couldn’t believe he said it. 

Namjoon swallows, his mouth beginning to salivate at the view of you. Your panties were what was drawing him in - simply because he was the one that got them for you. “Did you know it was me, Y/N?” Namjoon murmurs, his eyes zoning in on the lacy material that leaves little to the imagination. 

Your pace begins to slow just as you reach your floor. On the floor right outside your door was yet another bouquet of flowers, this time an array of different types of flowers instead of the sunflowers of before. Right beside it is a gift bag with gift paper inside. “This can’t be for me…” you mumble to yourself aloud. 

Nonetheless, you squat down to grasp the flowers and the gift bag, curiosity winning the game. You open the door to your home and go inside.

You place the bouquet on your kitchen table and go to open the gift bag. There’s a card inside the bag that you open.

“My devotion for you is not for any other

For some might say it is overdone

Together we have one another

So you shall not need anyone…

With love, k.nj…”

You blink at the card. Yet another poem-like note was left. You dig deeper through the gift bag and your hands touch a material. You lift it out and your eyes widen slightly. Heat rushes through you as you realize they’re panties - all different kinds. Seamless, lace, cotton and silk. 

You inhale, throwing the panties back inside the gift bag and make your way towards your front door. There’s shuffling outside in the hallway and you slam your door open.

“I…”

You startled your neighbor with your actions. He flinches, dropping the plant he had in his hand with the loud slamming of your door opening. He turns towards you with wide eyes.

“Is everything okay…?” the man asks.

You nod your head frantically. “Y-Yes. Sorry about that.” you rush across towards your neighbor. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The man smiles a dimpled smile that causes heat to rush through you - similar to before. “It’s alright.” he assures, kneeling down to pick up the plant. “Was I making too much noise? Sometimes I get locked out of my apartment…” he trails off, glancing away with tinted cheeks. 

“No, not at all. Just thought you were someone else…” you murmur. “I’m Y/N.”

The man nods his head, offering you the same polite smile. “Namjoon.” he replies.

“You had to have known it was me, baby. That’s why you kept all my gifts.” Namjoon was only torturing himself being around you for this long - but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. You were utterly beautiful; perfect. You didn’t throw away the gift like he initially thought you would have and now you were wearing it. “Yes…that’s why you agreed to go on a date with me, baby. You knew it was me…”

This had to be why you were teasing him. You knew he’d want you to be comfortable while you slept - that’s why you wore a dress. That’s why you fell asleep; so he’d be the gentleman that he was and remove it - so he could see that you were wearing his gift.

Namjoon’s fingers hook between the lacy material of the panties. “You’d want me to have a look, right?” he asks, eyes flickering up to your peaceful face. “That’s why you opened your legs for me, baby. You want me to see you like this.”

Namjoon begins to pull your panties down your legs, eyes widening at your bare pussy for his eyes to see. So perfect, he thinks. His mouth salivates at the thought of tasting you - to dip his face deep into your pussy and feast upon your essence.

“So perfect, baby. You don’t even realize how perfect you are.” Namjoon pushes your thighs apart to get a closer look at your pussy. “I can’t believe I’m seeing your pussy closer than before. Remember that time you touched yourself right in front of the window? It was like you knew I was watching you, baby.”

Namjoon understands that this was going overboard. It was different from him to catch sight of you as you both went to work in the mornings. He’d greet you and you’d greet him back with that soft, sweet smile. Now, however, he was watching you through your bedroom window - just out of sight. It’s a moonless night and you’ve just gotten out of the shower. Your bedroom lights are dimmed and you don’t notice that your window is cracked open when you left it closed prior to bathing. 

Namjoon understands that this was going overboard - but he couldn’t help himself. You dropped the towel on the floor and began to lotion your skin - how he longs to touch it. How he longs to feel your soft skin beneath his hand, to smell your scent fresh from the shower.

You had to know he was here watching you - the way you touch your body as you lotion it. The way your hands grip your breast and bend down right in his view to massage your legs tells him that you were putting on a show for his very eyes.

Especially when you lay down on your bed and open your legs. Your hands dip between your thighs and your fingers would soon be playing with your clit. At this, Namjoon cannot help but do the same as you - right outside your window for anyone passing by to see. But it’s night time and dark, he’s completely in the shadows. 

Namjoon wraps a needy hand around his cock, fully exposing himself. He doesn’t waste any time - he has to do this now. Your left hand grips your breast - he wish it was his. How erect your nipples were right now, so much so that he wants to wrap his tongue around them and suck until they’re numb.

Your moans are what’s driving him crazy and causing him to pump his cock harder. He spits into his hand for lubrication, his mind pretending that it’s your sweet essence. You sound so sweet and full of lust; fully stuck in the moment. 

Namjoon’s eyes widen as your fingers dip inside of you and your moans grow even louder. You begin to pump your fingers in and out, your chest heaving with pleasure-filled moans. Your breast begins to bounce as you pump faster, looking for an orgasm that he wishes he was there to give. 

It’s embarrassing knowing that Namjoon cums right in the palm of his hand right as you do around your fingers. You don’t know he’s there, he tells himself, but there’s a sick part of him that tells him that you did.

“You wanted me to do this, baby. That’s why you wore that dress and these panties.” Namjoon is holding one of the flowers he’s gotten you recently. “I’ll try to make it special, baby. It is Valentine’s Day.”

If Namjoon would have known that this is what you wanted, he would have planned something a bit more romantic. However, this wasn’t going to stop him. He removes the petals from the flowers and begins to place them around your bed. “Next time, I’ll make sure I have candles. That it’s more romantic for us.” he assures, murmuring to you as if you could hear him. 

Namjoon undoes his pants and allows them to fall to the ground. He does the same to his underwear, getting out of them entirely. He dips onto the bed as gently as he could to not disturb you.

Your pussy is on full display for Namjoon, so much so that he shudders once more. He licks his lips, breathing increasing as he lowers between your legs. His tongue pokes out of his mouth and gently, he licks a stripe up your pussy to your clit. “Fuck.” he says against your pussy. 

Namjoon couldn’t hold himself back anymore - not when you tasted this good. He dives deep into your pussy, ravishing you. His head bobs from side to side, his hands hooking beneath your thighs to keep you in place.

Namjoon can hear your sleepy moans and wonder if you’re dreaming of him at this moment - of him pleasuring you like he was doing now. Your thighs slightly twitch and you begin to shuffle in his grasp, but that doesn’t stop Namjoon. No, he only leans back to spit onto your already wet clit, then continues to ravish you like he was.

Namjoon just knows you’re loving what he’s doing to you. There’s soft pants releasing from your lips, even as you remain in a peaceful slumber. He’s positive that if you were awake for him, that you’d be moaning even louder than you were when you were pleasuring yourself - he just knows you would be.

Namjoon leans back to admire his work - your glistening pussy. He licks his lips as he gets on his knees, hovering slightly above you. “So, so beautiful.” he says with a bit of a whine in his voice. 

Namjoon gives his cock a hard squeeze after he wraps his hand around it. “So perfect in every way possible. I knew this pussy would be the best ever since that day I watched you in your window.” Namjoon glances up at your window - the outside is just as dark as it was that day. For an odd reason, there’s a rush that goes through him thinking about someone walking by and seeing him and you like this.

“I could eat your pussy all night.” Namjoon continues to tug at his cock, his eyes zoning in at your wet pussy, arousal dripping from it. “You’d let me, too, won’t you baby?” he whimpers. “My perfect little Y/N…all mine.”

There’s a wave of pleasure flowing through Namjoon right now. It’s blissful to be with you like this - so close to you. The act is intimate - something he’d cherish for the rest of his life. 

Kim Namjoon loves you with every fiber of his being. You were an angel in his eyes - ever since he first laid eyes on you months prior when you and your mother first moved in.

Namjoon isn’t sure what it was about you that drove him towards you. You were pretty, yes. You were quiet and polite, sending quick grins his way as he passed you in the hallway. He learned that you and your mother move directly across from him - a woman he’d soon realize was deaf when he saw you signing to her one day on his way out of his apartment.

Namjoon isn’t sure what it was about you that drove him to follow you like he did. You went to work and then home - and when you weren’t home, you were at cafe’s. It didn’t look like you had many friends; if any. You spent most of your time alone when you were at cafe’s, drinking latte’s and reading books.

Maybe it was your beauty that drew you to Namjoon. Effortlessly beautiful and you never had to try too hard. 

Maybe it was your innocence - purely oblivious to your surroundings. Namjoon followed you constantly when he wasn’t busy - he knew the route you took home from work and the exact time you’d get home each day. He remembered your favorite drink at the cafe and just how long you’d stay there - no longer than two hours.

Namjoon isn’t sure what it is about you that draws so much of his attention towards you - but you’re undoubtedly you. You were a kind daughter who lived a simple life. You held no fear in your heart for the outside world or danger; luckily there was no threat wandering around you. He’d know if there was.

“It isn’t enough, baby.” Namjoon sighs with a shake of his head. “Your pussy’s so wet that I know it’d feel better than my hand.”

Namjoon grumbles when your thighs twitch. “Ah, you agree, right?” he questions, squeezing his cock tighter. “You’d let me, baby? You want me to feel how wet your pussy is for me…”

Namjoon inches closer to you, the tip of his cock already leaking pre-cum with just the thought of having a piece of you. 

Namjoons brows furrow. He can feel his body flush with heat, especially his cheeks. He bites his bottom lip when his tip brushes against your clit. He groans, goosebumps erupting onto his arms. “Such a pretty pussy…” he rubs his cock along your wet folds, unable to take his eyes off of it. 

Deep in Namjoon’s gut there’s pleasure building up, but he doesn’t want to cum so soon. No, he wants to feel your juices mixed with his precum, feel it drip down the shaft of his cock and - 

“Shit, baby.” Namjoon moans aloud. He lets go of his cock to hold onto your hips, his hips thrusting so that his cock was rubbing directly against your clit. “You’re getting wetter by the second, baby. I know it feels good for you.”

Namjoon’s eyes, hooded eyes full of lust, flicker to your now bouncing breast. With the way he’s thrusting against you, it bounces beautifully. 

“Wearing the panties I got you…” Namjoon grumbles, leaning down so his lips are right next to your nipples. “...not wearing a bra under this dress. You wanted me, my love.”

Namjoon wraps his mouth around your nipple, sucking on the sensitive bud like his life depended on it. He’s full on panting now, his breathing increasing erratically at how good you’re being for him.

Namjoon pops your nipple from his mouth to twirl his tongue on it, licking as though it’s a lollipop. There’s sweat lining his forehead and he never wanted this special moment between the two of you to end - not ever. 

Namjoon couldn’t wait for this moment to happen again - to see you on his cock and your face contorting with different waves of pleasure.He wants to hear those same moans he heard while he stood outside your window - witness the same waves of pleasure go through you. Next time, he’d want to look into your eyes as he has you dive through your orgasm.

Namjoon’s teeth slightly bite down on your nipple, grazing it slightly. It doesn’t take a genius to know that he’s going to be cumming soon. “I’m gonna cum right on your pussy, baby. You’d let me, right? You’d want me to cum on your pussy?”

Namjoon grunts loudly at just the thought of doing so - his mind flashing with his seed dripping all over your clit and coating your inner thighs entirely. It’s the least you could allow him to do - after all, he has admired you for so long.

“So beautiful, baby,” Namjoon grumbles, his cock twitching for a release. “So beautiful and all mine.

Namjoon detached himself from your breast to lock his eyes with your pussy once more. It’s glistening with your own arousal - he knew you’d enjoy this.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Namjoon whimpers out, your warm heat allowing him the release he wants. “Such a pretty pussy, my love. So pretty and all mine.” he grunts, thick robes of his cum shooting all over your clit, seeping down across your ass.

Namjoon doesn’t stop. No, not until your pussy is fully coated with his love for you, sticky and white and warm. And even then, Namjoon cannot bring himself to want to stop. “I could do this with you all night, baby. You’d want that, wouldn’t you?”

Namjoon leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, whimpering right into it. “My pretty, Y/N.” he murmurs between kisses. “All mine.”

[fairygodsystem]

Do you have any system names for just the grouping that aren't system or collective?

We are really wanting a one worded collective name

♡ Alternatives to "system" or "collective" Master-list ♡

Association　　Assembly　　Aggregation　　Assemblage　　Assortment　　Array　　Alliance

Band　　Body　　Batch　　Battery　　Bunch　　Bundle　　Battalion　　Bracket　　Brigade

Class　　Club　　Chain　　Circle　　Crew　　Collection　　Cluster　　Clutch　　Clique　　Clump　　Clot　　Combine　　Conglomerate　　Congregation　　Crew　　Crowd　　Company　　Collaborative　　Communal　　Cooperative　　Common　　Corporation　　Compilation　　Collation　　Caboodle　　Convocation　　Cumulation　　Constellation　　Clan　　Consort　　Crop　　Coalition　　Classification　　Conspiracy　　Cabal　　Coven　　Corps

Division

Establishment　　Enterprise

Faction　　Function　　Formation　　Foundation　　Fellows　　Fellowship　　Family　　Force

Group　　Gathering　　Grade　　Gaggle　　Grouping　　Gild　　Guild　　Genus　　Generation

Herd　　Horde　　Hoard　　Heap　　Huddle　　Hodgepodge

Institute　　Institution

Lot　　League　　Legion　　Layout　　Lads

Mass　　Medley　　Mess　　Miscellany　　Mobilization　　Muster　　Mess　　Melt　　Mutual　　Mob

Number　　Network

Operation　　Outfit　　Order

Platoon　　Party　　Parcel　　Posse　　Phalanx　　Pack　　Personnel　　Pile

Round　　Ring

School　　Squad　　Squadron　　Set　　Species　　Syndicate　　Staff　　Stack　　Stock　　Suite

Team　　Troop　　Trust

Union

Variety

[authorhjk1]

Possible prequel to the yuju bronze?

https://youtu.be/u1mBqgU8q4g

Grey

(Yuju X Male Reader)

Your watch says 4 am. It's way too late to be working. Why does your current client have to be in a different timezone? You just finished your video call and are about to head out.

The first hint of the morning light starts to appear on the horizon. You haven't slept since last night. On one hand, you just want to fall asleep, right where you stand. On the other hand...

Your client looked way too good. The young woman had an almost see through white blouse on and a black lace bra. Throughout the entirety of the last two hours, you involuntarily got hornier and hornier.

But who would still be up at this time? Or who has just woken up? Probably no one.

As you walk to your car, you remember that you have more than enough videos on your computer. But why look at videos, when you can feel the real thing? You think it over for a moment. Your need for pleasure finally outweighs your sense for empathy.

After a twenty minute drive, you pull into an underground parking lot. It's not the building you're living in and you're not used to the layout of the structure. You get lost once, before you finally find the elevator. Sixth floor, here we go.

Once you're there, you type in the code for her door lock. You close the door behind you and walk through her living room. Another door leads to her bedroom. This one is cracked open. You push it open all the way, revealing the sleeping idol.

Yuju is sprawled out on the large bed. She must've kicked the covers off herself throughout the night. You can see she is wearing a night gown. A grey one. The flower patterns on it and her messed up hair makes her look cute. You lean down to cup her cheek.

Yuju moves a little. Your hand moves from her cheek to one of her breasts, squeezing it. It makes Yuju flinch.

"Wake up."

You whisper into her ear with the softest voice you can muster.

"Hmm?"

Yuju's eyelids flutter open and she looks up at you.

"W-What time is it?"

Her sleepy voice sounds as adorable as she looks. You would've loved to cuddle with her at any other moment. But now, her cuteness only enhances your desire to use her for your own good.

"4:30."

"Mmm!"

Yuju groans in disappointment.

"Be quick."

You see her eyes close again and you slowly roll her over so she lies on her back.

"You're an angel, Yuju."

You kiss her lips as they form into a smile.

"Thank you."

She sighs, still not fully awake.

You quickly rid yourself off your pants, before reaching for the lube inside her nightstand. You usually don't need it. But this isn't the first time you've woken up Yuju in the middle of the night. She made sure she is always ready, in case you have midnight cravings.

Your cock is quickly covered in lube, already hard because of the woman lying in front of you. Quickly pushing her gown up, you reveal Yuju's cleanly shaven pussy.

You hear her whimper as you push inside of her. She is only half awake and yet you are already inside of her. She slowly rubs her eyes as you start thrusting.

"What a way to wake up."

She moans as you hold onto her thighs, driving yourself deeper.

"Good girl."

You praise her as you bottom out inside of her.

"Taking my cock first thing in the morning."

"Morn-Morning?"

Yuju sighs as you slowly fuck her. Your thrusts aren't hard or fast. You're tired too.

"It's the middle of the night."

"But your pussy feels as good as always."

"Oh gosh."

Yuju's weak and sleepy sigh makes you shiver. It turns you on to know, that she loves you so much, she takes your cock at any time, without you having to even ask for it.

"Damn, Yuju."

Your forehead has sunk down on hers. The two of you have your eyes closed as you enjoy the first rays of the sun.

The lube only helped you to start fucking her. By now, her juices take over. You feel her getting wetter, how your strokes become more smooth. There is less friction now.

Your thrusts automatically become faster.

"P-Please. A little slower."

You reduce your speed, willingly acknowledging her state. Yuju is not there yet to take your full pounding. But she is more than able to take your shallow thrusts.

Her pussy squeezes and hugs your cock. You feel yourself growing tired. Even more than you already are.

"I'm never leaving your pussy ever again."

A promise that makes Yuju smile. A promise you'd love to keep. A promise you made too often already.

With a low grunt, you finally finish inside of her. Yuju moans into your ear since your head has sunk next to hers, onto the mattress. You fill her up to the brim. Your seed painting her walls.

You feel yourself drifting off. Yuju closes her eyes too. You're still deep inside of her, her pussy keeping you warm. She rests a hand on the back of your head, slightly stroking you to sleep.

[poeticore]

headers by me. don't repost.

[astralnymphh]

what if u get a scratch and vampire ellie smells u from a mile away and she’s so desperate to have your blood that she lures you into her house and begs you for just a little taste. she whines and apologizes over and over again for being so needy while drinking your blood.

no smut. but suggestive! doc version included

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ oohhhh.. literally loser!vampire!ellie. the layout would be reader who's ultimate best friends with her; long time childhood friends potentially? and, let's also exercise the chance that ellie was fortunate enough to keep her vampirism veiled from your knowledge all this time. (if edward cullen could, she can too.) so, on one superficially mundane day near the woods where you happen to break skin by means i will leave up to individual imagination, ellie just so happens to be a mile away - returning home after a hunt proved to be in vain (girl had to feed bad but was way too delirious to concentrate.) - so, what transpires when she picks up the familiar scent of her beloved friends blood, an aroma commonly encountered, but always ignored despite her bloodstained appetite? yield.

"hey, my cars' just by the curb there. can give you a ride back to my place, patch that scratch up. 'ts not a big deal."

strange for her to utter that - it's not a big deal, when your puny little scratch is incapable of even irritating you that bad, but ellie insists, softly. what she omitted, is exactly what will happen between plopping on her bed and actually plastering a band-aid on that scratch. blood was drawn, crimson had dripped, and nothing goes off without a hitch when a voracious vamp meets the nectar of life, nothing. "you don't have to look— just, let me, please? again, i'm so sorry for asking." her voice withered and apologetic, a breathy and sedated mess with her fingers twiddling and twining with yours, sat adjacent to you just looking so so guilty for even bringing the topic up; vex with herself that she couldn't ignore it, like all the other past instances. "ellie, i— ugh, okay. if it's only a little.." and— that reply of sanction should excite her, god forbid she doesn't have the biggest crush on you, and now she's doing this thing viewed as intimate by some of her peers? but she can't help but feel.. sorrowfully faulted at first.

she drags her lips over the nub of your wrist before she separates them and bares her pretty teeth, poking your skin in little dints. vampiric foreplay. "you do this with every girl?" and you say it earnestly, yet with a light heart. no ill will bending in your tone nor intention. yet vulnerability casts a pall over ellie right now, taking blood from the one she can't keep her damn desires off, "i don't— i don't, no, fuck.. never, you're the only one so far." she mumbles, withdrawing her teeth a moment to spew that recital of apologies "so fuckin' sorry, please don't watch me. i just need.. just need—" she's literally so ashamed of her vehement needs for your taste, she can't even complete her sentences, unsheathing her teeth once more and burying them into the flesh by your wrist bone, grunting simultaneously with your pretty little wince.

although it is strange— on the edge of daunting, you managed to muster a fondness for it after a minute or so; the adrenaline rush at first bite, the excess of blood smearing her pale rose lips in a blotchy pattern, sometimes trickling the rise of her chin, those cursedly cute noises she makes during the feed, the fumble of her fingers trying to pull your arm deeper into her mouth like your wrist alone wasn't suitable of quenching, suspending her sucks with a spluttered or breathless, "damn it, sorry, just a little longer." whispered unto the delicate massacre painting your lower forearm— you love it. too much, you love her sudden jump in energy, pinning you on the mattress with her whole body and lodging her knee between your thighs, all while pleasuring you with pain, you fucking adore it. she has to know.

"take all you need, ellie. i don't mind, you can have me all you want, hmm?"

who knows where her mouth ended up next.

MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICK . IMPORTANT TLOU POST . PALESTINE INFO . BIG TEXT VER

ignore why i wrote sm i did not plan to yap this much apologies if its rushed i am quite tired.

[probablyasocialecologist]

A system of ancient ceramic water pipes, the oldest ever unearthed in China, shows that neolithic people were capable of complex engineering feats without the need for a centralized state authority, finds a new study by University College London researchers. In a study published in Nature Water, the archaeological team describe a network of ceramic water pipes and drainage ditches at the Chinese walled site of Pingliangtai dating back 4,000 years to a time known as the Longshan period. The network shows cooperation among the community to build and maintain the drainage system, though no evidence of a centralized power or authority. Dr. Yijie Zhuang (UCL Institute of Archaeology), senior and corresponding author on the paper, said, "The discovery of this ceramic water pipe network is remarkable because the people of Pingliangtai were able to build and maintain this advanced water management system with stone age tools and without the organization of a central power structure. This system would have required a significant level of community-wide planning and coordination, and it was all done communally." The ceramic water pipes make up a drainage system which is the oldest complete system ever discovered in China. Made by interconnecting individual segments, the water pipes run along roads and walls to divert rainwater and show an advanced level of central planning at the neolithic site. What's surprising to researchers is that the settlement of Pingliangtai shows little evidence of social hierarchy. Its houses were uniformly small and show no signs of social stratification or significant inequality among the population. Excavations at the town's cemetery likewise found no evidence of a social hierarchy in burials, a marked difference from excavations at other nearby towns of the same era. But, despite the apparent lack of a centralized authority, the town's population came together and undertook the careful coordination needed to produce the ceramic pipes, plan their layout, install and maintain them, a project which likely took a great deal of effort from much of the community. The level of complexity associated with these pipes refutes an earlier understanding in archaeological fields that holds that only a centralized state power with governing elites would be able to muster the organization and resources to build a complex water management system. While other ancient societies with advanced water systems tended to have a stronger, more centralized governance, or even despotism, Pingliangtai demonstrates that was not always needed, and more egalitarian and communal societies were capable of these kinds of engineering feats as well.

[irisintheafterglow]

to tell you is too scary (so I'll just say something else)

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: lizzy mcalpine - "pancakes for dinner"

summary: nightmares don't usually translate to reality, but you call sakusa for the first time in years. just to be safe.

wc: 1k

cw/tags: gn!reader and post-timeskip!sakusa, nightmare about a plane crash but nothing descriptive, angst/comfort with happy ending, childhood friends to lovers (??), dialogue-driven, he hates everyone but you

note: yayy first @ficsforgaza gift post for @froggiewonder17 !! i tried out a different layout for the top section of this post, lmk if y'all like it! thank you again for donating to help palestinian families, i hope you like this :)) my f4g masterpost can be found here!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

Your thumb trembles over the call button next to his contact, hovering and waiting for some unseen force to make you stop. Your hand keeps shaking, no matter how hard you try to stop it; the ravaged skin of your cuticles is stained with dried blood from your constant picking and scratching. Dread crashes again in a wave and you find yourself trapped under the water, gasping for air that wasn’t being inhaled. With a knot in your lungs, instinct takes over and taps your phone. 

The three ascending notes of the phone dialing his number sound far away and you unexpectedly heave out a choked sob. He’d probably changed his number or deleted yours. Maybe he would simply glance at the unknown caller ID and ignore it entirely, returning to his drink with all his teammates at the bar. You didn’t know him anymore. 

You didn’t know him anymore. 

Your palm slams onto the red circle and you curl into as tight of a ball as you can muster, disappearing into the corner of your bedroom. It’s stupid, calling him because of the first night terror you’d had in a decade. When you were kids, he was always your first call when your eyes flew open. I’m with you, I’ve got you, he said. He guided you when adrenaline turned into anxiety, when the void outside your window was unfathomably dark. He’d stay until your breathing evened into a sleeping rhythm and wouldn’t hang up until your phone died or you woke up the next morning. He was there every time you were drowning, and your soul didn’t know what to do without its safety ring except sink, 

and sink, 

and sink…

INCOMING CALL. 

CALLER ID: Kiyoomi💛💚

You stare at your phone screen illuminating the blankets like a beacon. Blinking once, then twice, you wait for it to disappear like a hallucination or a trick of your psyche. It doesn’t, and when you have half the mind to reach for your phone, the screen disappears. You’d missed the call. Maybe it was a trick of the mind? 

(1) MISSED CALL - Kiyoomi💛💚

INCOMING CALL.

CALLER ID: Kiyoomi💛💚

You’re faster this time, snatching your phone from the covers and swiping the “answer call” button to the side. It’s quiet on the other end of the line for a moment, but he’s there. He always was, wasn’t he?

“...Omi?”

“Hey,” he says gently. There’s faint noise in the background of where he is, sounds of conversations and telecom announcements. Even with the sound of rolling wheels, he’s still clear. “You called.” Fifty minutes away, Kiyoomi imagines you nodding in the silence, maybe wiping a stray tear with the corner of your fitted sheet. “You’re safe?” You hum a shaky mhmm, still unable to force out any words. He murmurs your name, coaxing you out of your tight ball. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I’m safe,” you reply after a breath. Based on your voice alone, he could tell the night terror happened no more than five minutes before you called. “I just–I’m sorry if I–”

“I’m here if you want to talk about it,” he reassures you, immediately shooting Atsumu a withering glare when he tries to dance up to Kiyoomi’s less busy part of the airport. The MSBY team’s international flight was canceled an hour ago, but he was still trying to figure out if he wanted to stay with his teammates at a closer hotel. The present situation felt, literally and metaphorically, like you were calling him home. 

“There was a plane,” you say in a broken whisper. He strains to hear your crackling voice and shakes his head adamantly when Bokuto and Hinata try to join Atsumu’s antics. Now was not the time to fuck around with him. “You were on it, and something went wrong, and it–There was an accident and…I just had to watch it happen. I had to watch it happen and I couldn’t do anything.” Your voice cracks and trails off, making Kiyoomi’s chest twist like a wrung towel. Your friendship was strained after Kiyoomi’s second Nationals, fading completely until there was nothing left when you graduated except photobooth strips from third grade. He kept your number, though, in case something like this ever happened. In case you needed him again or he needed you, he never decided.

“Are you–are you home right now?” Another broken mhmm. “Can I see you?”

“You’re not overseas?”

“I was supposed to be, as of an hour ago,” he admits, running an exasperated hand through his curls and straightening his track jacket collar. A flash of light catches the corner of his eye. Cameras, cameras, cameras, always. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, continuing, “But, the flight got delayed and ultimately canceled because of maintenance issues. We’re probably gonna have to postpone the game.”

“I’m sorry, Omi.” You hear him shrug in that indifferent manner that always seemed to come down when he was with you. All his walls, actually, came down when he was with you. 

“I don’t care, honestly. My question still stands.” He swallows thickly, begging you to say yes for both of your sakes. When his phone showed your contact photo for the seven seconds you called, it awakened grief in him he thought he’d buried years ago. By all accounts, Sakusa Kiyoomi desperately missed you. “I can be there in an hour. I’ll take a car, I don’t care how much it costs.” 

“It’s–it’s fine, you really should stay with your team and rest,” you mutter, always the selfless one worrying about his well-being. You were too good to him, letting him cancel plans for training camps and tournaments, always letting him go. “I don’t want you missing another flight if it comes up.” 

Too bad that, when it came to you, Kiyoomi had decided long ago he’d always be selfish. 

“Say you need me and I will be there.” You don’t hesitate. 

“I need you here, Omi,” you murmur. He’s gone in seconds–mind, body, and soul. His body acted instinctually, running on nothing else but the sole purpose of getting home to you. With a wad of cash and an Olympic athlete’s intellect calculating the fastest way to reach you, he vows that you would never need to say you needed him again.

Because he’d say he needed you instead.

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[jesterthestar]

☆ | author's note : I KNOW THIS WAS WIRTTEN LIKE A MILLION TIMES , but in my opinion shinobu is the most interesting to look over and i think she has alot of options and opinions soo. Anw im getting bored of my current layout , so maybe remake to another character ?? The poll will be after the said hc's. I hope you enjoy this piece !! <33

. . warnings ★ : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT nsfw under the cut ; two versions : for male and female readers ; oral sex ( both reader and char receiving ) ; anal sex ; masturbation ; somnophilia ; drugging ; fingering ; not proofread.

𔓕   ..     ┊    Afab reader !

When with a female reader she is probably a switch with a lean towards a dom. Sometimes she wants to watch your frame shaking from the overstimulation shes given you and sometimes she wants to a strap deep inside of her pussy.

Shinobu has a fair share of knowledge on how to pleasure a body of a female first of all because of her medical expiriance and second of all actually trying masturbation on herself in many different ways.

Shower heads , pillow humping , edging and much more and she is going to use it on your mercilessly when you have sex.

But it will be pretty hard to get.

Shinobu sees sex as something to show emotions and love for their partner so doesn't do it from just lust , in fact it's hard to turn her on in ordinary life so you'll have to beg and basically degrade yourself in front of her , so she'll finally understand that you can't deal with the ache. Which leads up to one of her kinks !

She like watching you trying to even muster a word as you're on the floor by her while she's doing anything , legs spread , arms tied behind your back and you're on the verge of tears. You're absolutely exposed and shinobu is not willing to cooperate.

BEST SCENARIO OUT OF EVERYTHING SHE MIGHT DO TBH.

Something i think she'd practice is drugging , though only if you give her permission. She finds something attractive in you waking up because of the immense pleasure that she is serving you, watching your cunt spasm around her fingers while you're sleepish face frowns snd whines from her , slowly but surely waking up.

I feel like she isn't really into anal if her partner is a woman, she might do it if you insist or really want to try if you like it or not. To her it's unsafe and unlike males you have a hole made for it.

But if you do she is really gentle and careful.

As mentioned previously you two rarely have sex, but if you do , oh boy , you'll be fucked or fucking her hours on end.

She likes eating you out. Softly massaging your clit , her tongue gliding against your folds. She holds one of your hands to give you some sort of support.

Would do again. 10/10

𔓕   ..     ┊    Amab reader !

I feel like she'd be a power bottom or a dom.

Something about her being so small and yet making you wonce and tremble makes her even more turned on.

Doesn't like 69 , so ya'll give oral tp each other seperatly.

Shinobu doesn't suck you off much , because again she is small and has a gag reflex, so she likes giving you small kitten licks more than actually taking your whole dick into her mouth. Likes tasting the salty beads of precum on your cockhead.

Probably edges you before plopping herself onto your dick and fucking borh you and herself until her brain is numb and dead.

( im sorry i didn't have much ideas for this . )

@P1ERROST4R ON TUMBLR. Do not repost / translate / copy my work.