#no spice under the cut. just cut for length

[satoruhour]

toji’s reaction to seeing you in short shorts/booty shorts around the house 🏃‍♀️

PAYBACK

a/n: sorry anon i didnt exactly like how this turned out but i still hope u enjoy !!!

wc: 2.1k

warnings: sorta crack-ish in the beginning, pleasure dom toji, soft dom toji, praise, toji is obsessed w/ you, kitchen sex, clothed sex, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, pussy slaps! (both w/ his hand and d!ck), fingering, clit stimulation, tit + ass fondling, unprotected sex, p → v penetration, creampie / breeding kink, brief aftercare, n*sfw under the cut

there were things that toji was good at holding back on, like telling you that you might’ve added a bit more garlic than butter for a garlic spread. he doesn’t tell you how your body heat warms him up fast and he desperately wants to pull away from you, but your slumbering state is so peaceful he would rather burn. 

and then sometimes he wishes he would just bite the bullet (even if you were his baby), because you were currently getting back at him for giving you the silent treatment. if he could do it over a trivial thing, so could you. toji’s probably still mad about your guess in charades, where you couldn’t understand that he was telling you he was riding a tricycle and not a bicycle, that mere difference of wheels causing a major roadblock in your relationship.

it was by far the stupidest thing you’ve argued about (you assume he had a bad day, too), and you were willing to talk things out and tell him he could’ve just put up three fingers instead of pointing aggressively to an invisible tricycle, but he opts to glare at you and sigh instead. you can’t believe he’s getting this worked up over a game of charades too, so you tease him the only other way you know how to.

it hadn’t been that long since you talked, but you figured you’ll need to start on dinner soon, getting a sick idea in your head when you see the new booty shorts you had ordered laying on your bed. you definitely thought it would be better for another day, but life is short and toji is not, so you pull them on and they feel divine, remembering the content smile on your face when your boyfriend had offered to pay for them — a reward well received when you check out your ass in the full-length mirror and the way it shaped your lower half.

the evening carries on as usual, but you can feel his stare once you emerge from your room in one of his shirts and he thinks you aren’t wearing any pants until you’re pulling out saucepans and reaching for the spices in the top cupboard that his shirt rides up and he can see your plump fucking ass; he chokes on his water.

with your back turned, you stifle a little grin and continue with your chores as the shorts ride up with each walk from living room to kitchen, but it’s all under the guise of cleaning and setting the table, wiping aimlessly, too, at the coffee table in front of the TV where toji sat, even if you weren’t eating there. you feel eyes on you when you return to the kitchen and continue your torture, cooking up a storm and bending over while looking into the fridge, while pulling out the plates for dinner, while—

��those the shorts i bought you?” bingo. although you’re not quite ready to talk to him yet, you succumb with a curt nod. toji obviously isn’t satisfied with your answer, footsteps approaching to lean on the kitchen island as his eyes keep his gaze locked at your butt.

“gonna ignore me for the whole day, hm?” it seemed like toji had other plans, his larger hand trailing up your thighs to your ass before curling around your waist. he’s pressing his front against you, hips grinding slightly even though you know he wants to do anything but that. you’re not wearing underwear, either, so the sensation of his bulge against your cunt is a lovely feeling and it takes everything in you not to moan.

you have to bring yourself back to reality to turn off the stove that feels so far away, hands clutching onto the countertops as you chase the familiar drag of your sex against his but toji only tuts, landing a slap onto your ass. “dinner first, baby.”

bastard. you roll your eyes and groan, but you didn’t seem to catch his innuendo, so you’re yelping when he suddenly flips you around and tugs at your shorts, pulling it off of a leg so there’s space for him. while your hands are pushing at his shoulders, desperately wanting to uphold your pride of ignoring him, you know the cool air against your cunt and the sight of fushiguro toji on his knees is only making you wetter.

and toji just smirks, looking up at you like his revered deity and you jump again at his cold hands prying your thighs apart, bringing a leg to rest on his shoulder. toji looks in love with your pussy, seeing your hole clench around nothing as your eyes beg for him to do something, anything, but he only continues to tease, running his thumbs along your folds and just missing your clit.

“use your words, sweetheart.”

“need…” toji raises an eyebrow, cheek leaning casually against your thigh and he grins as he sees you fight your own pride like you don’t want his tongue and fingers on you. give it a little more and you’ll break, because through the silence of your shared home and your heavy breathing, the tension is so infuriating that you’re willing to push away that stupid game of charades to the back of your brain.

you hate how needy you sound, though. “i need your tongue… p-please, baby,” you plead and drag out the name, and in the stuffiness of the kitchen, you think toji, one of the strongest men you know, looks the fucking best when he’s smiling up at you with a wanton want behind his eyes. “wan’ you, toji, wan’ you to eat me out!”

“oh… of course, when you beg like that,” toji plants a kiss to your puffy clit and the simple gesture makes you whine, “how could i say no to my pretty baby?”

toji delves in like he’s never eaten before, licking a thick stripe up your pussy to collect your slick before lapping at your clit, garnering a loud moan that reverberates throughout the house. you wish you never called him out on his terrible acting skills from the start, one hand keeping your balance while the other tugs on his black hair. harder and harder.

toji groans at your impatience as he feels you spread your legs further, moans and whimpers filling his ears. one hand sneaks under his shirt and squeezes at your tits, the other hugging you closer to him, fondling your ass at the same time. your boyfriend takes in everything, from your pleasured expression to your contracting tummy and he can feel himself harden below him.

but you come first, you always come first and he makes it clear when he halts for a second and you whine at the lack of contact. “eyes here, baby.” toji calls out to you, slapping your cunt and you jolt at the feeling, although it’s not entirely unpleasant; your eyes flit down to him. the other grins again and slaps your pussy a few more times, the wetness of your sex making loud, obscene noises, “tell me how good i’m making you feel, yeah?”

you mewl as you nod as his fingers prod at your hole and you swear the sudden intrusion has your stomach turning. you’re clamping down on his fingers which sets a pace, buried right up to the ends of his fingers as his palm collects your slick. your lover continues to abuse your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking.

“o-ooh, shit! they’re so deep, tojiii!” the moans you let out were almost pornographic, breathless and needy with how good he was giving it to you, the familiar feeling of an orgasm creeping up on you. his fingers keep a constant pace, stretching you out so well and the roughness of them feel so contrasting on your body, but you love it. “toji, i— fuck, i’m c-close!”

“taste so good, doll. c’mon, cum on my tongue.” the older man is ruined too, the heat of the kitchen getting to him with how the strands of his hair stick to his forehead, but more than that, he’s grinding into thin air, wanting any sort of relief for his hardening cock. “you taste like heaven, oh shit...”

“t-toji— i’m! oh, fuck, fuck fuck—!” it’s not long before you’re unravelling in his hold, legs trembling and incoherent babbles spilling from your lips as toji licks up your release leaving from your dripping, tight hole, sure to lap up every last drop. his emerald eyes hold yours as he cleans you up, body still twitching and shivering from the mind-blowing orgasm before he stands and removes his fingers, holding it to your lips.

“suck.” and you do, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around him like you would to his cock, free hand already making pulling down his sweatpants that has a little pre-cum leaking through it.

“up you go, darling,” toji mumbles, plopping you onto the counter with ease, and because he’s so tall, his pelvis perfectly lines up with yours. it’s probably also because you envisioned this happening, though, that you made sure to pick out a kitchen countertop with the proper height. he slaps the tip of his cock on your glistening pussy, an angry red from being neglected, groaning as your arousal provides lube with no problem.

“just so you know, i’m buying you more of those stupid shorts,” toji confesses before he pushes past your entrance, tip already stretching you so well that you laugh and moan at the same time, arms flying to encircle his neck to feel him closer. “f-fuck, baby… so tight, just for me…”

“’s all yours, toji,” you whimper softly, an unspoken look in your eyes that just says that i’m yours for you to use, “this pussy’s all y-yours— mmf—”

by then, he’s bottomed out, taking his time in filling you up inch by inch and your submission is reason enough for him to start rocking into you, hips faltering just a little by how warm and snug you felt that it has toji catching his breath. but he doesn’t hold back once you’re comfortable, bullying his cock into you at a faster pace into your pussy that sucks him in so well with each thrust.

“your tight, little pussy’s g’na make me cum faster than usual, pretty,” toji says with a breathless laugh, mouth tasting the sweat that lines your body as he kisses your neck. 

“that’s— okay,” you choke out, pulling him away from the embrace and the sight that greets you takes your breath away. dark, lustful eyes trained on you and a stunning smile to match; you see your lover’s eyes soften ever so slightly when he hits that sweet spot in you, “i’ll take all— fuck- all of your cum, okay?”

and toji almost cums at that moment but he knows if he looks at you any longer and how your tongue lols out at how his cock fits so well in you, he just might; so he just settles for frantic nods, and nudges your head down to look at how his length moves in and out of you. your slick and his pre-cum is leaking all over the counter, squelching noises filling the kitchen. “look at how well you take me. good fuckin’ girl is what you are.”

you giggle at the praise because you know toji means every word, but your moans take over soon. there’s the twist of your core, that edging feeling that toji’s drawing out of you so well — it doesn’t help how he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing circles that you’re close, so close.

“toji, toji, toji—” chanting out his name is all you can do when you’re fucked silly, spilling over unexpectedly as you clamp down hard on his cock. toji groans when he feels you spasm over his length, hips not stopping even after you ride out your orgasm. you’re cumming so much that his stomach is wet, too, the pap! pap! pap! of his pelvis against your pussy sounding so filthy.

your babbles converge into three words, mumbling out i love yous to the older man and soon toji cums as well, swallowing your tearful confessions with a sloppy kiss and he’s releasing deep inside you. he can feel your mewls through the kiss, no doubt loving how his thick cum is spilling into you. his seed is hot, leaking from his tip in ropes and ropes until you’re filled to the brim and you sigh, content with how it feels in you.

your lazed hums make him chuckle, kissing you again and softer this time. “my baby, my sweet baby,” toji makes sure to wipe your eyes after, and mutters apologies against your forehead for the dinner turning cold, but when he sees you and your languid smile, he knows you don’t mind.

thirsts and drabble requests are open!

[xomakara]

It's You

SUMMARY |  You're a publicist secretly in love with your famous client, San, but his manager thinks you should cook up a story about him and his co-star to generate buzz for their upcoming movie. This involves arranging dates and photo ops for the two of them, but you can't help but notice he seems more interested in you.

PAIRINGS | San x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked

GENRE |  smut, actor!San, publicist!Reader, slight angst

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), handjob, oral sex (male giving/female receiving), slight dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, vaginal penetration, couch sex, office sex

LENGTH | 3,300 words

TAGLIST |  ---

NETWORKS |  @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @othersideoutlawsnetwork

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  I finally managed to finish this fic that has been sitting in my WIP folder for months. I feel like this one is a bit lackluster compared to my other stuff but I hope you all love and enjoy this. Love you ❤️

ATEEZ Main Masterlist

"Do you think this is a good idea?" San’s voice cuts through the sterile air of your office, low and gravelly. You glance up from the stack of papers on your desk, meeting his piercing gaze.

"It’s not just a good idea," you say, forcing yourself to sound confident, even though your heart is pounding. "It’s necessary."

San leans forward, resting his elbows on your desk, his face inches from yours. The faint scent of cedarwood and spice invades your senses, making it hard to focus. 

"Necessary?" he repeats, his mouth quirking into a half-smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. "For who? The movie? Or for you?"

You swallow hard, resisting the urge to look away. 

"For both," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "The studio wants buzz, San. They want people talking about you and Jiae. This is how we generate that."

"Buzz," he mutters, running a hand through his tousled hair. His smile fades, replaced by a tense line of frustration. "Yeah, because nothing says 'authentic' like fake dates and staged photo ops."

You bite your lip, glancing down at the script in front of you. The words blur together as your mind races. You know this is the right move. It’s your job, after all—to manage his public image, to protect his career. But when you look back up at him, his expression stops you cold. There’s something raw in his gaze, something that feels... personal.

"San," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know this isn’t ideal, but—"

"Ideal?" he interrupts, leaning closer. "Is it ideal for me to pretend I’m head over heels for someone I can’t stand just so people will buy tickets to a movie? Or is it ideal for you to sit here and tell me how to live my life?"

Your breath catches in your throat. You want to argue, to remind him that this is what fame entails, but the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only person in the room like you’re the one he’s really upset with—makes it impossible to form words.

"San," you start again, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

"Forget it," he says, standing abruptly. He runs a hand through his hair again, pacing across the small space of your office. "I don’t need this right now. I’ll do whatever you want, okay? Just... stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" you ask, unable to stop yourself. Your pulse quickens as you realize how close you still are and how vulnerable the moment feels.

San stops pacing, turning to face you. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he’s going to leave without another word. But then his eyes lock onto yours, and something shifts.

"Like you care," he murmurs, his voice so low you almost don’t hear him.

The room falls silent, the tension between you thickening like smoke. You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. Instead, you feel the heat creeping up your neck, your cheeks burning under his scrutiny.

San watches you, his expression unreadable. And then, just as suddenly as it began, he turns on his heel and walks out of the office, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

The truth is, you do care. More than you should, more than you ever intended to. 

Ever since San became your client, you’ve been fighting a losing battle against your feelings. His charm, his intensity, the way he somehow manages to balance chaos and control—it’s intoxicating. And every time he looks at you like that, like you’re more than just his publicist, it’s harder to remember why this is a terrible idea.

But it is a terrible idea. You know that better than anyone. Falling for your client? No. You can’t let that happen.

So instead, you throw yourself into planning the fake romance. Dates at trendy restaurants, walks through crowded parks, intimate interviews where he and Jiae can “accidentally” let slip details about their “relationship.” And yet, despite your best efforts, things keep slipping. Like the way San keeps finding excuses to touch you during meetings or the way his eyes linger on you a little too long when he thinks no one’s looking.

Jiae notices, of course. She’s sharp, and perceptive, and she doesn’t miss much. During one of your strategy sessions, she leans back in her chair, appraising you with a knowing smirk.

"This isn’t going to work," she says casually, flipping through your prepared itinerary.

You blink, momentarily thrown. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, please," she laughs, tossing the papers aside. "He’s not interested in me, and you know it."

Your stomach drops. "That’s not—"

"Save it," she interrupts, waving a hand dismissively. "Look, I get it, eonnie. You’re his publicist. You’re supposed to be impartial, professional, blah blah blah. But let’s be real here—the chemistry between us is about as convincing as a cardboard cutout."

You stare at her, unsure of how to respond. Part of you wants to deny it, to insist that everything will go according to plan. But deep down, you know she’s right. San’s energy shifts whenever you’re around, his focus zeroing in on you in a way that makes it impossible to ignore.

"So what do you suggest?" you ask, your voice tight.

Jiae grins, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "I suggest you stop pretending you don’t see it. Because trust me, eonnie, he’s into you."

Before you can muster a rebuttal, she stands, smoothing out her dress. "Have fun with that," she says with a wink, breezing out of the room before you can recover.

Alone again, you sink into your chair, letting her words sink in. He’s into you. Of course, he is. How could he not be? You’re the one who’s always there, the one who knows him better than anyone else. But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier. If anything, it makes it worse.

Because now you have to figure out how to handle this. Do you continue with the fake romance, pushing your feelings aside in the name of professionalism? Or do you confront San, and risk everything by admitting how you feel?

The thought of either option makes your head spin. But as you sit there, replaying the conversation with Jiae, something stirs in your chest. A flicker of defiance, maybe, or just plain curiosity. What would happen if you gave in? If you let yourself explore this connection, even just for a moment?

Just as you’re about to push yourself up from the chair, the door swings open again. San steps inside, his presence instantly filling the room. He closes the door behind him, his movements deliberate, almost predatory.

"We need to talk," he says simply, his voice steady but charged with something unspoken.

You nod, standing slowly. "About the—"

"Not about the movie," he interrupts, taking a step toward you. "About us."

"Us?" you echo faintly, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. Your breath hitches as he closes the distance between you, his eyes never leaving yours. San’s gaze softens, his expression shifting from intense to something almost tender. 

"Yeah," he murmurs, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger, grazing your skin in a way that sends shivers down your spine. "Us."

Your breath catches in your throat as San’s hand slides from your hair to your jaw, his touch warm and firm. The room seems to shrink around you, the world outside forgotten. All that exists is this moment—this man—and the undeniable pull between you.

“San…” you whisper, a plea and a question all at once. You don’t know what you’re asking for, but you feel it burning in your chest: permission, understanding, something more than just this fragile connection.

His eyes darken, and for a split second, you think he’ll step back, and put some distance between you. But then his other hand cups your face, tilting it up toward his. His thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone, and you can feel the tremor in his fingers, the same one reverberating through you.

“I’ve been trying not to do this,” he admits softly, his voice rough with emotion. “Trying to stay professional, to keep things… clean. But I can’t anymore.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding so loudly it feels like it might burst out of your chest. “San, we can’t… This isn’t—”

“I know,” he cuts you off, his voice low and urgent. “I know what we’re supposed to be doing. I know how this looks. But none of it matters when I’m standing here looking at you.”

He leans in closer, his breath fanning across your lips, and you wonder if you should pull away, remind him of the consequences, of the boundaries you’ve both spent years erecting. But then his lips brush against yours, gentle at first, testing, seeking permission.

And you give it.

The kiss starts slow, like two people afraid of breaking something too precious. But it doesn’t stay that way for long. San groans into your mouth, his hands tightening on your face as his tongue sweeps inside, claiming you. The sound vibrates through your body, setting every nerve on fire.

You grip his shirt, anchoring yourself as the world tilts dangerously. His taste floods your senses—warm, spicy, entirely intoxicating. You didn’t realize how much you needed this until now, until his lips were on yours, his body pressed against yours, solid and unyielding.

“Jesus, you feel so good,” San murmurs against your mouth, pulling back just enough to nuzzle your neck. He sucks a mark onto your collarbone, his teeth scraping lightly, and you gasp, arching into him.

“San…” you manage, your voice shaky. “We shouldn’t—”

“Screw shouldn’t,” he growls, punctuating the words with another bite. His hands slide down your sides, skimming over your waist before settling on your hips. He tugs you flush against him, and you feel the proof of his desire pressing into your stomach.

You shudder, your brain short-circuiting as heat pools between your thighs. God, he felt incredible even fully clothed. The thought of getting him out of those clothes sends a bolt of desire straight to your core.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasps, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes are wild, and desperate, like he’s daring you to put an end to this madness.

But you don’t. You can’t. Not when your body is screaming for more, not when your heart is already halfway to falling for him. Instead, you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your neck, silently begging him to keep going.

San takes the invitation, his lips trailing lower, down the slope of your neck, over your shoulder. He pushes your blazer off your shoulders, letting it pool at your elbows before continuing his assault on your skin. His teeth nip at the exposed flesh above your bra, his tongue soothing the sting with languid swipes.

“Fuck, you’re driving me insane,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust. He drags his lips back up to yours, kissing you with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. His hands roam under your blouse, his palms hot against your bare skin.

You suck in a sharp breath as his fingers find the clasp of your bra. With a practiced flick, it releases, and your breasts spill free. San groans, cupping them in his hands, his thumbs grazing your hardened nipples.

“So perfect,” he whispers, lowering his head to take one into his mouth. He alternates between sucking and nibbling, his tongue laving circles around your sensitive peak. You clutch at his shoulders, your legs threatening to give out under the onslaught of sensation.

“San… please…” you beg, your voice barely audible over the roaring in your ears. You don’t even know what you’re asking for, only that you need more.

He pulls back long enough to yank your blouse over your head, tossing it aside without a second glance. Then his lips are on yours again, devouring you as his hands explore your body with unrestrained hunger.

“Touch me,” he demands, grabbing your hand and guiding it to the button of his jeans. His eyes bore into yours, intense and pleading. “Don’t stop this time.”

A thrill shoots through you as you fumble with the button, your fingers clumsy with anticipation. When the zipper finally gives, you slip your hand inside, finding him hard and ready for you. He gasps, his hips jerking into your touch as you stroke him firmly.

“God, yes…” he groans, his head falling back as he struggles to maintain control. But you can see the strain in his expression, the way his jaw clenched as he fights to hold himself together.

You want to break him. You want to see him unravel completely, to watch the walls he’s built around himself crumble. So you tighten your grip, quickening the pace as your other hand teases the waistband of his boxers.

“Take them off,” you command, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you.

San complies immediately, kicking off his shoes and shimmying out of his jeans and boxers in one swift motion. He stands before you completely exposed, every inch of him breathtakingly gorgeous.

“Now you,” he says, his tone commanding yet laced with vulnerability. He drops to his knees in front of you, his hands sliding up the insides of your thighs. “Let me see all of you.”

You hesitate for a fraction of a second, but then his fingers hook into the waistband of your skirt, and you lift your hips to let him strip you bare. When you’re fully undressed, he drops to his knees and presses a reverent kiss to the inside of your thigh, his breath hot against your skin.

“San…” you groan, your legs trembling as his mouth moves closer to your aching core.

“Shh,” he soothes, his voice muffled against your damp curls. “Let me take care of you.”

And then his tongue is on you, parting your folds and delving deep. You cry out, your head falling back as waves of pleasure crash over you. He laps at you greedily, his fingers probing and teasing until you’re writhing beneath him, consumed by a blinding sensation.

“San, please…” you beg again, your voice raw with need. “I can’t… I can’t wait…”

He doesn’t make you. Instead, he rises to his feet, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you to the couch. He sets you down gently, positioning himself between your thighs. His eyes lock onto yours as he lines himself up, poised to enter you.

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice steady despite the tension coiled in his body. “Keep your eyes on me.”

And then he thrusts into you, filling you. You gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as your bodies connect for the first time. It’s overwhelming, all-consuming, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe.

“San…” you murmur, your voice breaking as the reality of the situation crashes down on you.

“Say my name again,” he demands, his hips snapping forward with purpose. “Tell me you want this as much as I do.”

You nod frantically, your thoughts fragmented, your body too far gone to form coherent words. “Yes… San… please…”

He smiles, a wicked glint in his eye. “That’s what I thought,” he says, and then he drives into you harder, faster, his movements confident and sure. His lips find yours again, urgent and demanding as if he’s trying to devour every ounce of hesitation you might still be holding onto.

You gasp into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. There’s no space between you now, no room for anything but the heat that’s been simmering between you for so long. This isn't your first time, but it feels different, important—not a quick and casual fuck, but something more, something special. This moment has been a long time coming; you both know it, feel it in the way your bodies seem made for each other, the way you slot together perfectly, as though every inch of you was designed with this connection in mind.

There will be time later for sweet nothings, gentle caresses, and murmured promises. Right now, neither of you has the patience for romance. 

"Fuck," you moan, tilting your head to let him better access, his lips a trail of fire across your skin. You don't have to pretend this is perfect, that this feeling between the two of you was always meant to be—instead, you hold on for dear life as he takes you higher than you've ever been, the coil of pressure building inside you hotter and tighter than before.

"I've got you, sweetheart," San murmurs against the curve of your throat, the tone in his voice low enough that your entire body quakes at the sound. "Let me take care of you like a good girl."

When his hand falls to where you are both joined, his touch against your already sensitive nerves makes you yelp, a sudden jolt of electricity surging through your spine. San chuckles at the reaction, a rich and dark sound that rumbles against your ear. "So beautiful like this, baby, such a mess for me."

"San..." you whine, his name like a prayer tumbling from your lips as you teeter on the precipice. "Please, please don't stop, don't fucking stop--"

And he doesn't. He's relentless as his thumb draws small, tight circles over your center, the sound of your whimpers urging him to go faster and harder, until you are crying out, shuddering with pleasure.

"That's it," he says, his voice ragged now, raw and honest. "Let me hear you."

His pace shifts again, this time erratic, desperate. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as he drives into you. “God, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he mutters, his voice muffled against your skin. “Wanted you… all this time.”

His admission sends a jolt of electricity through you, amplifying the already dizzying pleasure. You clutch at him, your body arching instinctively as you chase that elusive peak. “San… I—I think I’m going to—”

“Yes,” he growls, his thrusts becoming even more frantic. “Come for me. Right now.”

It’s too much, too fast, too good. Your vision blurs, your muscles tightening as you spiral over the edge, your release crashing over you in waves. You cry out his name, over and over, your body convulsing around him as you ride out the aftershocks.

He follows soon after, his movements faltering as he finds his release. For a moment, he’s still, his entire weight pressing you into the counter as he catches his breath. Then, slowly, he withdraws from you, leaving you feeling empty and spent.

In a matter of minutes, his world has been upended, and somehow, yours along with it. San runs his hand through his hair, his expression an intoxicating mix of awe and disbelief. 

"How did we get here?" he asks softly, almost as if he were talking to himself.

"I don't know," you answer truthfully, still a little breathless.

He nods, silent for a long moment, and you worry that the spell is broken, the real world threatening to intrude upon this fantasy you'd constructed for yourself. And then, slowly, a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he raises an eyebrow. "Want to do it again?"

You laugh, relief rushing through your veins like a drug. "Let's go home first," you suggest, trailing a hand down his chest. "Where we can be more... thorough."

"Fair point," San murmurs, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. "If I can only love one girl in this life, then it's you. It's you, baby."

[f4iryfever]

When He Gets Jealous (K.T.H)

pairings; kang taehyun x reader

warnings; nsfw minors dni!!, hair pulling, spanking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dom!taehyun, sub!reader, bondage, daddy kink, degradation kink, humiliation kink, fingering, use of a vibrator, cream pie, orgasm denial, swearing, pet names such as baby, whore and slut, pussy drunk taehyun, this is literally just porn with a little bit of plot 😭😭😭😭

extras; mention of beomgyu

wc; 2673

SMUT UNDER THE CUT, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!

Never in his life did Taehyun ever assume that you’d do this in front of his friends but you did.

You don’t know what came over you — maybe it was the boring atmosphere that you felt like you needed to spice it up or maybe it was the way your boyfriend looked so goddamn good in a slim fit suit. The first few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, giving you a peek of the chain that was sitting perfectly on his smooth tanned skin, and the fabric of the shirt was so tight around his muscles, it was almost as if it was begging for it to be let out.

You moved your hand to rest on his thigh causing him to raise an eyebrow but you returned it with an innocent smile before looking away but his gaze was still on you.

That’s when he felt it; your hand began to rub against the material of his pants and started to travel it up towards his covered private. His jaw ticked as he watched you laugh at a joke Beomgyu said while your hand continued to rest on his covered dick.

That was until you began to move your hand in circular motions was when he had to grab your wrist tightly; you looked at him through the corner of your eye as a sly grin overtook your face when he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “You’re playing a very dangerous game, sweetheart.”

-

The car ride home was filled with tension, the grip that he had on the steering wheel made you clench your thighs together, imagining yourself as the object.

When you finally made it to your shared home was when he broke the silence.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You stopped in your tracks, slowly turning around with your eyes on the floor not daring to look up at him.

“Look at me,” Taehyun ordered before scoffing when you didn’t obey, “I said look at me.” This time when he said it, it was sterner much more angrier. The order going straight down to your core as your eyes met his, trying not to rub your thighs together.

He beckoned you to come over with his hands — oh how you’d love them to be around your neck, choking you til all breath is out from your lungs. “Did you enjoy that?” He softly rubbed your cheek, to others this would be seen as a romantic act but you knew exactly what it meant.

“Hmm did you?” He asked again this time he used his thumb to play with your bottom lip, you nodded once, your eyes meeting the floor again. He tsked, forcefully grabbing your chin and making you look at him, “What did I say about keeping your eyes on me?” A gasp escaped you as you felt your wetness seep down your panties and down the length of your thighs.

He chuckled darkly at your silence, harshly letting go of your chin before whispering in your ear, “Get on the bed and wait for me.”

You hastily turned around and ran to your shared bedroom, throwing your heels off and placing your stomach down on the bed before hiking your ass up, feeling the silky material rise up your legs. Now all you have to do is wai-

“Well well well,” He’s here. “What a good little slut you are, all ready for daddy’s cock.” He slowly made his way towards you before stopping at the edge of the bed. You bucked your ass back when you felt a hand slide across your ass, slightly lifting up the fabric of your dress, exposing yourself to him.

You whined out, closing your eyes tightly when two of his nimble fingers slid up the slit of your covered pussy. He hissed at how soaked you are, his cold lustful eyes boring into your drenched cunt. You felt the bed dip down on both sides as a firm chest met your back, “Too bad you don’t get to cum,” He whispered in your ear, you can practically hear him smirk.

“T-Tyun p-pleaseeeee,” You whined out pushing yourself more onto his fingers. Taehyun clicked his tongue, tilting his head to the side as he watched the way you fucked yourself on his fingers, “Hmm? Please what, my slut?”

“P-please just fuck me alreadyyyy!” You sobbed out feeling humiliation creep in when a patronising laugh comes out of him. “Oh no no baby, brats don’t deserve to get what they want.” You opened your eyes, your tears blocking your view, making everything a blurry mess. You whined out kicking your feet impatiently before yelping in surprise when a harsh slap meets your asscheek, “You wouldn’t have been in this position if you hadn’t been an attention seeking whore at the restaurant.” The degradation going straight to your core as you clenched your thighs tighter, your wetness seeping between your thighs.

Taehyun mockingly pouted at the sight of your desperate hole, his ego boosting at the control he has over you. The sound of a belt unbuckling had you squirming in excitement, knowing that you’re finally getting what you wanted.

“Hands up.” What? You peaked behind and saw that he is now behind you looking down at you sternly, his belt in hand. You slowly raised your arms up, still maintaining eye contact as he tightened the belt around your wrists. Bounding you from touching him.

“There,” He whispered to himself, taking a few steps back as he admired the sight in front of him. His little whore all tied up for him to punish and handle. His sharp tongue swiped over his bottom lip as he came closer to your needy body, your eyes begging him to ruin you but oh no he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted.

The man behind you placed a cold hand on your ass, kneading it before landing a brutal slap on it making it jiggle slightly. You let out a yelp, your tied hands grabbing onto the bedsheets for dear life as Taehyun continued to spank you. “Count.”

You sniffled, feeling another slap land on your probably red ass cheek, “1,”

Another slap, “2”

Another slap, “3”

Another slap, “4”

He hummed, rubbing the skin, satisfied at his work before pushing your panties to the side. “You’re that soaked from just a couple of spanks?!” He exclaimed, letting out a cruel cackle.

You whined in humiliation, your eyes immediately closing as you pushed your face into the sheets from embarrassment. He was humiliating you but why is it turning you on so much?!

You heard footsteps move away from the bed, ‘Where is he going?!’ You thought as you impatiently tapped your toes on the bed. That was until you felt a buzzing sensation on your clothed clit, you gasped out loud. “W-whaa-” “Shut up.” He sternly ordered as a wanton moan left your lips when he moved your damped panties to the side and inserted the head of the vibrator in your heat.

He circled the head around, moving it to touch every single area of your heat. Your eyes rolled back into your head as your back arched deeper into the vibrator, “F-fuckkkkkkk” You moaned out, rolling your hips to match the movements.

You felt your release coming, the tightness in your core bundling up ready to release and Taehyun knew it as well by the way your toes were curling and the way you were moaning shamelessly. Just then when you were about to cum, the vibrator turned off.

Your eyes shot open as you got up on your knees to look at him, red painting your vision. “What the fuck!” You yelled out, he slowly got up from his seat, maintaining eye contact with you as he made his way towards you.

You yelped out when he used his strong palm to push you back down, “Yell at me again and you won’t get to cum at all,” You were about to complain again until you felt a sharp slap on your ass. Tears blurred your eyes again at the stinging pain, knowing damn well that his handprints will be painted on your asscheeks.

His hand ran over the skin, a hum vibrating in his chest, “So fucking pretty,” He whispered to himself as he played with the hem of your panties. “Need to see your pussy,”

He groaned at the way your liquids were stuck onto your panties, strings of it stuck onto the fabric when he pulled them down. Drool formed in his mouth when his lust filled eyes landed onto your weeping desperate hole, “Such a slutty pussy,” Taehyun mumbled to himself.

He used his nimble fingers to spread apart your pussy lips, the squelchy noises coming from your essence when he began rubbing tight circles on your puffy clit. He clicked his tongue, head tilting to the side as he stared at the way your hole clenching around nothing. “You that desperate, you’re clenching round nothin’?”

You whined in humiliation stuffing your head further into the sheets until a familiar harsh slap fell onto your ass, “Use your words.”

“Y-yes daddy! S-so so soooo desperate for youuuu,” You moaned out shamelessly, he hummed in satisfaction before finally plunging in his index and ring fingers. A cry escaped from your throat at the feeling of his calloused fingers hitting at all the right places where the vibrator couldn’t, you bucked your hips into his fingers only to receive a slap on your butt. “Don’t fucking move,” He gritted out, now fingering you at an insane pace that has your toes curling and your wrists tugging at his belt.

His skilled fingers curled inside you, making your jaw fall slack and your mouth agape. The tips of his nails scraped deliciously at your g-spot. You groaned loudly in the sheets, feeling the build up of hour orgasm. He knew that you were close with the way that your gummy walls were tightening each second his fingers pumped into you and the way your breath became shallow, so when you were just about to cum, he took his fingers out.

But this time you didn’t complain, you expected this to happen. This always happened when you tick him off but gosh you loved it even if your cunt was begging to cum.

Taehyun raised a brow at your silence, “Not whining like a baby, I see. Have you decided you want to be a good girl?” You nodded, not trusting your voice to speak.

He chuckled darkly before he roughly gripped your hair in a fist and lifted you up, “Be my good little whore and answer,”

“Y-yes! ‘M a good girl!” You stammered out, hot tears running down your cheeks from having your orgasm being denied twice. “Aww is my poor little baby crying?” He asked in a condescending tone, his voice laced with fake sympathy.

You sniffled, trying to use your tied hands to cover your face but he slapped them away. His boba eyes scanning over your ruined self, “Tell me what do you want baby,” He inquired in a softer tone. His fingers coming up to stroke your cheeks lovingly, pushing some of your hair back behind your ears.

“W-want you to f-fuck me…” You murmured, he hummed brushing a hand over your hair. “That’s all you had to tell me,”

Before you could even think twice, your head was thrown down and in one go, his dick filled up your cunt. “AAAAAAAAAAAA” you screamed out, the sudden stretch leaving a burning sensation in your tight core.

“Hmmph fuck, pussy so tight and wet, clenching so hard ‘round my cock,” His hands found purchase on the soft flesh of your hips as the lewd sounds of skin slapping on skin filled the room.

With each thrust, Taehyun picked the pace up, leaving you a drooling mess as he pumps deep into you. The hand that was gripping on the side of your face pushed you deeper into the mattress with every shove his dick made in your core.

“Such a fucking slut, teasing me back in the restaurant in front of all my friends,” He degraded you, his voice deeper and raspier than ever before. “Bet you wanted me to get angry just so I could fuck you like this, huh?” He angled his hips in such a way that was hitting deliciously at your most sensitive spot that had you screaming for more.

“Right there, baby?” He breathed out, already knowing the answer. He knew your body like the back of your hand, he knew exactly how to thrust to make you squirm, how to touch you to make you a whining mess, how to get you cumming in less than a second.

“Fuck yes daddy yes! M-more! Please I-i need more!!!” You whined out, feeling each and every single one of his veins rub against your folds. “More? You’re such a whore, aren’t you?” He cackled, landing a careless slap on your ass.

He gripped your hips tighter — his nails digging into your skin as he fucked you harder and faster. With each thrust he made, deep grunts came from his chests that had you addicted.

Drool streamed down your open mouth, your brain going foggy from the merciless pace he was fucking you at. His mushroom tip kissing deliciously against your cervix as the tight knot in your stomach coiled further.

“I-I’m gonna c-cum!! P-plea- OH FUCK!” In one swift movement, his cock left you and he positioned you on your back before stuffing your cunt with his length once again. “Gotta look at your face.” Taehyun moaned, his eyes scanning over your fucked out look; mascara mixed with your fresh tears was dripping down your face, your cheeks were flushed and drool marks were forming on lower portion of your face. A proud smirk tugged on his lips knowing he is the reason for this.

Your bound hands were tugging forcefully against the belt, trying to loosen it but it was no use; “Please oh please untie me!!! N-need to touch you!!” You begged him, your eyes teary from the amount of times he denied you of your orgasm.

He shook his head and gave you a stern look when whines and pleas left from your plush pink lips, “You wanna cum or nah?”

You nodded rapidly and eagerly, only boosting his ego more at how desperate you were for your release. “Yeah? Well then take what I fucking give you,” He shoved more of his cock inside of you if that was even possible.

His fiery eyes went down to look at where your two private’s connected, watching the way his dick disappeared into your cunt and with each time, a white creamy ring formed on the base of his cock.

“C-cum! N-need to cum!!! Pleaseeeeeee let me cu-”

“Cum”

You felt the wave of your orgasm crash into you so hard that you felt as though your soul left your body. Hot spurts of his seed filled your cunt up to the point where it was dripping from your hole. Your orgasm was everywhere, on his thighs, on your thighs, on the sheets, on your bunched up dress.

Your eyes were shut and your chest heaved up and down, the post orgasm feeling hitting you like a truck as you tried to catch your breath. You heard the rattle of his belt before feeling the rough material leave your wrists where a mark was most likely formed.

The bed dip down beside you, the warm breath of your lover hitting your earlobe. “You okay, baby?” You nodded your head, slowly opening your eyes to see him smiling sweetly at you.

Taehyun’s fingers brushed your wet sweaty hairs from your face as he cupped your cheek in a loving manner; he leaned in to place a soft kiss on your pouted lips before whispering ever so slightly, “Don’t ever test me again,”

tags; @coquettyun @simp4gyu @boba-beom @wand3rlustm3

AAAAA I HOPE YOU ENJOYEDDD!! sorry that this took so long 😭😭 schoolwork has been drowning me 😭💔 but omg i have other works in the making!!! maybe even a part 2 of the criminal beomgyu fic 🤭

[kcrossvine-art]

Hiiii friendssss! What the FUCK is up. What the fuck is up. What the Fuck is up. On todays cute little cookin excursion we are going to be deep frying things and using a wok. If you dont feel comfortable deep frying, and dont have a wok, im sure theres other ways to do it silly :DDD

I believe in you.

From LotR online we're gonna be making Fried Beetroot Sticks!! 

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into Fried Beetroot Sticks?” YOU MIGHT ASKSlices of sweet little beated root dipped into a batter with, watch out, special flavors too.

2 Beetroots

Corn flour

Salt 

Red Chilli Powder

Garlic Paste

Baking Soda

Water

Peanut oil

And we'll also be making some horseradish sour cream dip to go along with it;

Sour cream

Prepared horseradish

1 Green onion 

Few splashes of lemon juice

Salt to taste

Ground pepper to taste

"Cooked, tender beetroot sticks are dredged in a light batter and fried to give a crispy exterior and a soft, sweet interior. Served with a bracing horseradish sour cream, this snack is both filling and delicious."- LotRO Tooltip

AND, “what does Fried Beetroot Sticks taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKThis is like homemade fair-food and it sounds like a contradiction but its not

But maybe its just because its fried food? American brained, sorry.

Retains the inherit sweetness to beetroot

And similar to pickled beetroot the sweetness contrasts the spicey of the batter

(which i encourage you to amp up if youd like more spice)

The horseradish sourcream dip is to die for

Measure with your heart for that one, and save some green onion to top it with when you serve

This would pair very well with a lime italian soda or with shaved ice cones

Im always very anxious about deep-frying things, or working with oils at high temperatures, but i didnt run into any complications with this dish. Just make sure to keep best practices and safety precaution in mind, especially with a wok as it can tilt!

. If you dont have corn flour, you can substitute all-purpose flour . If you dont have peanut oil, look up oils with the same smokepoint to decide what else to use

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

The recipe stuck out to me, as i was assembling a list of foodstuffs from tolkiens work, for being such a "regular" named food. Also its worth 19 silver 69 copper in the LotR MMO and im immature.

I think the dip has the most room for improvement and tinkering. I've never made horseradish sourcream before, so more practiced tastebuds could perfect a simple thing like this. In the future id also like to try adding red pepper flakes along with the the powder and garlic paste, to give more visual variety and spice. I think cumin in the batter would be a nice midtone flavor too.

I give this recipe a solid 8/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) for its relative simplicity and modularity with things you could add.

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Beetroot Sticks Ingredients:

2 Beetroots

130 grams corn flour

1 tbsp salt 

1 tsp Red Chilli Powder

1 tsp Garlic Paste

1/4 tsp Baking Soda

178 grams Water

432 grams peanut oil

Horseradish Sour Cream Ingredients:

225 grams Sour cream

200 grams Prepared horseradish

1 whole green onion (green and white parts VERY finely chopped)

1 tspn lemon juice

Salt to taste

ground pepper to taste

Beetroot Method:

Peel all beetroots and cut them length-wise into  rectangles.

Combine flour, salt, chilli powder, garlic paste, baking soda, and water in a bowl.

Mix well into a smooth batter.

Heat peanut oil to medium in a wok and dip beet roots into batter. Deep fry until golden brown in color.

Stack beetroots on paper-towel lined plates to cool and dry as you go.

Serve with horseradish sour cream!

Dip Method:

Mix all ingredients

Cover and let stand at room temperature for 1 hour for the flavors to blend.

[luminouslywriting]

what do you think would be the reactions of the different men when they’re falling for a single mum? I think going with the time it’s more likely a young widow than a girl with a kid out of wedlock but who knows maybe John Brady just feels the desire to make an honest woman out of a poor girl at church who’s man ran off or Bucky takes to teaching his neighbors kid baseball because he sees their mom is stressed… just whatever guys you think would fit this

Nonny, this gave me actual brainrot so I hope you enjoy this so much 🥰🤍 as always, my requests are open and I don’t mind spam haha! More under the cut, cut for length, light spice sprinkled in:

Bucky Egan: (I had to run with the baseball idea haha)

-Absolutely the type of man who does not care about the past sexual history or life of a partner....and he's kinda looking for someone to date at the moment??

-But there's this kid on his block who's about six and he watches this kid attempt to throw a baseball every day and it just pains his soul because the form is awful and where is this kid's dad??

-So one day, he rolls on over to the yard of said kid and just starts offering pointers—he always wanted to be a baseball coach in his free-time and he just hasn't gotten around to it yet

-This sweet little boy makes him a deal that if Bucky comes over and teaches him how to throw a ball, lemonade will be made and given by you (his mom) and he will help Bucky paint his fence

-Bucky thinks it's a swell idea and it's at this surprising point to you that your son brings in the attractive war hero Bucky Egan straight to the kitchen and demands lemonade

-Well you and Bucky get to talking and you tell him that your husband died in the Pacific pretty early on in the war and your son has never really known a father

-That being said, it's a slow burn. He really enjoys getting to spend time with you and your son and he's afraid that he'll mess things up. But then your kid is inviting Bucky to dinner and you're telling him that it's no problem and you usually make too much food anyway.

-And somewhere along the way, he starts thinking of your house as more of a home to him than his own lonely home that he purchased. So naturally, this man panICS and has to call Gale and ask what he should do because he doesn't want to spook you or ruin the nice thing you've got going on.

-Gale definitely has to reassure him that if you both clearly want him there, then he should just go for it; Bucky deserves to be happy too.

-But he DRAGS his feet in the process....right up until your son accidentally calls him dad after hitting the ball with the baseball bat

-And then there's actual panic between you and Bucky and he's trying to apologize because clearly he's overstepped

-It would be at this point that you have to tell him that it's quite alright and you'd really like to get to know him more...because you like having him around and clearly your son adores him

-CUE THE FIRST KISS (first of many, might I add)

-It's the most darling domestic thing and he absolutely views your son as his son and he's never been so happy in his life

Gale Cleven:

-I think the most logical move here is that he finds you after Marge's passing. It was a short and love-filled marriage for them, but it was gone so quickly.

-He's devastated, naturally. And he doesn't really have anything left in Wyoming, so he sets out for Wisconsin.

-Now the thing about this is that John Egan has married Josephine Pitz—and Josephine Pitz's best friend is you. Your husband was a Marine during the war and died in action, leaving you with two little kids.

-You're doing your best but it's hard being a working single mom during the early 1950s.

-Cut to Josie and John setting this up just so

-Bucky makes the point that your car needs some work and you're a good friend of Josie's

-So this is how Gale Cleven is introduced to you—matchmaking via car-service haha

-Your two boys? Absolutely just wanna watch him work and wanna hear about everything that he's doing to the car

-But you're no fool and you know that Josie and Bucky are trying to set this up for the two of you

-So you just flat-out confront him about it and tell him that they're trying to be sneaky and that you're sorry he got caught up in their schemes

-But the thing is?? He's perfectly happy and used to their schemes. There's also the fact that this is the safest and calmest he's felt since Marge died.

-So he admits that he'd be willing to give this thing a chance if you are

-So it's a slow-burn for the two of you as you're trying to navigate around the fact that you've both already lost a partner and the fact that you have kids

-But he's so good with them and helps with the homework and genuinely just tries his best

-It's not a surprise to anyone when you're married a year later

Robert Rosenthal:

-On his way to the Nuremberg Trials, he meets you—a young lawyer who has recently just found out that you're pregnant (not that you're telling anyone that).

-You two become fast friends and he finds out that your husband was a British RAF Pilot who died. He's entirely sympathetic and sweet about the situation.

-The pair of you team up for the trials and it's amidst the preparations for the Trials that he finds you doubled over with morning sickness. This man assumes that it's the flu. Babe, it is not the flu.

-So a few weeks into you being sick and dealing with the trials, he's getting real concerned and you just have to spill the tea that you're pregnant.

-Not gonna lie, Rosie's heart shatters a little bit for you. It's not as if you want to leave the Trials to deal with pregnancy but you're also a whole ocean away and who do you have to rely on?

-Well he makes a promise that he's gonna help you through it

-And along the way, he's absolutely falling in love with you—with your dedication and kindness, the way that you're soft about the baby and continue to focus on work, and the way in which you're so determined to do everything entirely on your own

-He definitely very quickly makes you an offer that you're a little befuddled by

-The offer is marriage—and the thing is?? It's a damn good offer. You're a recent widow trying to do her job at the Nuremberg Trials, just found out you're pregnant, away from home, and have no support system

-So naturally you accept and this is a marriage born out of convenience and kindness to you....but there is so much affection and care.

-He's had feelings for you for a while and he's perfectly happy taking his time in the relationship and understands that you might not reciprocate the feelings in the same way.

-If nothing else, at least you'll be provided for, your child will have a father, and you'll always have a friend by your side

-It's at this point that your feelings start to develop because he's just such a good person and treats you so well and so clearly loves you

-The two of you are icons during the trials (Mr. and Mrs. Rosenthal), and he comes back from Europe with a wife and daughter on his arm....and no, he didn't tell anyone so it was quite a shock to everyone.

John Brady: (Also decided to run with it haha)

-Listen, this man has a picture perfect plan for what he wants to have happen when he gets home from the war and that's all fine and dandy, but this man was NOT planning on you haha

-You faithfully attend the same church as he does and it's pretty obvious that you're pregnant.....

-But man the gossip is bad. And he's not one to listen to idle gossip and just believe what people say. But evidently your fianceé had run off when he found out you were pregnant and had taken any chance of a reputable life. It's ROUGH, okay??

-And the thing is, John Brady is out here just trying to do his Christian duty by seeing if you need any help over at your house....because he also passes it on the way to Church and YIKES, your yard is going through it

-It's the first time that someone just offers to do something nice for you??? You're so thrilled about it

-So he comes over that summer and does your yard work for you and you make little sandwiches and he gets to have lunch with you

-The thing is, you two get to talking and he finds out that you weren't even planning on having kids for a while anyway and it was YOUR former man who wanted to do the deed and refused to help out in any way. This is entirely a man's folly and has ruined things for you.

-Now he feels bad, he does....

-But he's not trying to make a move or anything. At the moment anyway haha. Instead, he invites you to spend some time with his sisters because you need friends anyway and they all have kids so they can help you know what to expect for pregnancy.

-Well it's all going great and he's pretty happy with the fact that you now have a support system and he's starting to make some waves in work. And then the yard is done and finished.

-And for some reason he's offering to help with the plumbing and the inside work too? It's definitely not because he's worried about you and it's definitely not because he's very very attracted to you in any way shape or form lol.

-I don't think anything actually happens until you're right ready to pop....at which case YOU kiss HIM because you're just real impatient

-And he doesn't get to respond to anything because your water breaks and he's taking you to the hospital

-So while you're in labor, this man is processing the fact that he MAYBE really really likes you and has already planned out the rest of your lives together, but that's BESIDES the point

-He still feels like he's taking advantage here....right up until you have a son and you name him Johnny because Brady was the only person that was kind to you during pregnancy and this man just melts on the spot, professes love to you—and tells you that he wants to take care of you for the rest of your life.

-Chef's kiss tbh

[afreakingdork]

Writing Request: Reader x Donnie's V-Card 💜

Hey, guess what?! I do these anonymously too!

This one goes out to a lovely anon! Thank you for your support!

From now until the poll closes if you can prove to me that you voted hassan/mikey in this poll then I will write any short 100-400 word request like below or draw you a doodle of your chosing!

ᴰᶦˢᶜˡᵃᶦᵐᵉʳ: ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ ᵃˢˢᵒᶜᶦᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᵉⁿᵈᵒʳˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗᶦᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒʳ ᶦᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ.

Under the cut for spice, but it's not explicit!

Donnie had meant to do this so sweetly. He had a plan. He was going to do exactly what you were supposed to. Despite his proclivity otherwise, he was going to lay out rose petals. He was going to set the mood with lighting that made up for that garish red and avoided the danger and smell of scented candles. He had four different playlists prepared and an algorithm ready to switch based on what tempo best suited the night. He had a multitude of condoms in their different texture and make-ups because there should be a choice and he definitely didn't get overwhelmed looking at the yokai selection. he had lubes of the same, but that had thankfully been an easier choice.

So why were you sinking down his length in the bathroom while he sat on the toilet of all things?

Family.

He wasn't thinking of them.

Friends.

They were the furthest things on his mind.

What wasn't was the start of this intimacy. The romantic plan had gone as discussed. You were both ready to take the next step. You inaugurated the evening with a date. There was light dinner that was walked off in cozy arm and arm. There were the lights of the city and a few breath taking jumps to get your heart rate elevated. Though he had taken you to see the city from above, there was a new connotation as New York sparkled in your eyes.

The moment you turned to share the sight with him, you saw his vision and that was it.

You kissed.

It grew a little hotter.

You whispered against him to take you home.

it was another shot of adrenaline as he carried you straight down the closest underground entrance that led to the lair. You whimpered in his arms as he shot you amorous looks throughout. You mewling thing were all the more ready and he equally so even if there was a certain clamminess to his hands.

You got to his room.

He locked up the door tight.

The roses.

The light.

The playlist.

The assortment of choice.

You were thankful in your saunter and plied him with kisses. It made all the agonizing and embarrassing preparation worth it. Those cheek pecks once again drew heat from his core. His heart swelled. It was his turn for the flood of endorphins and you steering the pair of you to bed was your confirmation that you were game. You wanted him. You chose him.

What sweet validation.

As you teetered on the bed, it began. First Leo, who portalled straight in because only the lab had that kind of anti-mystic protection. You squeaked knowing your misdeed, but to the outsider, you looked like you were doing nothing more than making out. Donnie raged at the interruption, but Leo brushed him off saying he needed back-up in dinner choice. Donnie oh, so kindly reminded him that he had already ate and the date was long logged in the family calendar. Leo not so hopelessly stared at him and second guessed the decision before he was run out. Donnie was left fuming at the door as he added a 'DO NOT DISTURB' sign.

"It's alright."

Your voice was sweet nectar.

It beckoned and soothed.

He floated back to you and never reached your lips when the pounding came.

Michelangelo in a tizzy because he'd dropped his ant farm. His latest hobby and the colony has somehow unionized. He spoke of how they were taking over the room with domain expansion ready for the kitchen provision and Donnie screamed over his shoulder for Mikey's to just ready for once in his life. There was a popped syllable and bashful apology before the air hung heavy. The littlest made his review of the three words as loud as possible before he cited comparatively non-nonchalant apologies and annouced to Raph that they were going to war as peace talks fell through.

The oldest brother groaned somewhere not too far away.

A little close for comfort as you shudder where you were beneath your boyfriend.

"I'm starting to realize the others are... right there..."

The first signs of uncertainty flared in his mind, but he could fix this. He enacted sound proofing. He set his entire room to do not disturb. This measure was typically saved for crashing on particularly hard nights, but it was worth it. This was his fault for not remembering how tenacious his family was. He was the one making the best nest for you and his folly had been in placement. Once again secure, you reviewed his preparations with some meter of affection.

There was still a chance.

A kiss.

Shy and sweet that simmered as the burner was on. The heat percolated in bubbling pops of lips leaving for air and little soft moans. They lead further down with your hands shaping his plastron and his at your sensitive sides. Down until your back hit the bed and you pulled him with. His knee slotted between your legs and your heads dipped to share a little more than oxygen.

"PURPLE!"

Splinter's voice was a bucket of ice water in some old time challenge and Donnie could only turn his head before all his carefully constructed provisions were broken through in a second. Mystic prison hadn't been able to hold his father; the man was too powerful for his own lazy right. Especially when he demanded his remote be fixed after the ant army had taken its batteries to power their remote controlled tanks.

Donnie was starting to think he may have to help that endeavor as he marched over to get his dad two triple A's.

You.

You with your kindness.

You with your patience for him.

You talked to his father in the meantime.

Yes, the date was wonderful.

Me and Donnie were planning to spend more time together tonight.

No, we won't be eating dinner with you.

I hope you get the clam chowder you're craving.

When Donnie returned, you looked a little to comfortable on his bed. No longer were you ready to be splayed, but you were sat ready on the edge. A sight of someone in the midst of changed plans, Donnie relegated the union of your love to another night. You would go now and have at it on the battlefield before your war torn bodies enjoyed whatever dinner option Leo presumably wanted instead.

That would be nice.

Be it laying beside you with a sheen of sweat from coupling or conflict, you would look just as radiant.

You finally stood, your face determined, and took his hand to go.

He was putty in your fingertips and only sort of noticed your detour to his table of choice.

Then you were in the hallway where the distant sounds of the fray leaked out.

You didn't go that way.

You turned, presumably ready to get suited up in his lab.

You led him right into the bathroom.

He had been stunned, but you continued to move him.

The door locked.

You worked his fly.

He took a cold seat with a bare thighs on porcelain.

You stripped only the necessary bottom layers.

You prepared yourself.

You prepared him.

Back at where his mind had left him, you had descended upon him with little force. Only the angle was a tricky one, but you were certainly managing. A slow up and down that spread your love out from its fluttering wing beats in his heart to between his legs. The steadily increasing moisture of the right whipping filled the air before you caught him. You shared his distraction with a hopeless smile. You accepted him in all parts, family included and you were his beating heart. It was his pleasure to watch your reassurance slip into little breathy moans and he left behind his place as bystander. In one twitch of his thighs and his hands to your hips, his angle improved and you draped over him to share in the sweetness.

The story for old would include the bed.

it would include the petals.

The gorgeous lit neon.

Playlist number three.

You had full say in the memory he'd print, but this, you framed with the shower curtain in the background, working yourself as hard as you could for him, whispering his name like a plea and your salvation, that part he would leave in for your future generations and he leaned in to make sure you'd agree to it the same way.

[lightofdeceit]

An independent multiverse rp/ask blog for Shadow Milk Cookie from Cookie Run Kingdom! Will be slightly canon divergent! Will explore themes of betrayal, lies, and manipulation so be warned! 18+ only due to themes of manipulation. Sideblog to @inkyprince

Rules: Rule Page

- Mun is an adult (21+); however there isn't going to be anything explicit here. However there might be suggestive stuff, in which it be tagged with #suggestive. This is just text, nothing visual - I match roleplay lengths to the best of my ability. - I type in exclusively third person when roleplaying, this does not mean you have to, it is just how I write. - Most asks are allowed, purely explicit questions are not allowed. - You can ask the mun things as well! - I'm up for most types of roleplays! One offs, Collaborative stories, Au's, ect! - I adore writing with ocs, cross-fandoms, everything. - I am not mutual exclusive! Feel free to interact even if I'm not following you! -I will not poke people for responses unless it's requested (or listed in your rules page). I will assume you are no longer interested. You are free to poke me for responses! There is a chance I did not see it!

No DNI as I block freely (Typical DNI stuff, just don't be a dick) (Extra under the cut)

Affiliates: (none atm! Feel free to ask)

Beast Affiliates: Mystic Flour Cookie(s): Burning Spice Cookie(s): Silent Salt Cookie(s): Eternal Sugar Cookie(s): Shadow Milk Cookie(s):

Quick Pages: Wishlist | Headcanons | Verses | Promo Page

Reply Drafts: 8 Other Queue: 2

Credits: Dividers by @sisterlucifergraphics Layout by @murahaul Emoticons by myself. Original art is from Devsisters (Of which I'm not associated with)

DO NOT USE THE GRAPHICS I USE FOR MY BLOG THEY'RE NOT FREE TO USE!

[tkdb-hell]

First of all congrats for the 100 followers🎊🎊

For the spicy prompt I want leo×mc with number 35 phrase and 5 scenario with the shower sex

(Ngl picking a phrase was so hard cause for example phrases "why don't we film it" or "Oh.. you want me so bad" it's literally something that he would canonically say but then I was like let's find something him but also spice it up a bit anyway thanks so much for the special<3)

100 Follower Spicy Special • 7 of 7

100 Followers Post and Masterlist

♡ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ♡

Scenario #5 - shower sex • Phrase #35 - "be a good girl and spread your legs"

The shower was running, warm steam curling through the air and fogging up the glass. You stood under the stream of water, letting it cascade over your shoulders and wash away the stress of the day. It had been quiet for a moment, just the sound of water hitting tiles and the occasional drip echoing softly in the space.

Until Leo appeared.

"Hey, Honor Roll," his voice drawled from the other side of the glass, smug and teasing as always. "You're really gonna take a shower without inviting me? That's rude."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe I wanted some peace and quiet."

"Yeah, sure," he said, already stepping into the shower like he owned the place.

Completely unapologetic, his sharp yellow eyes gleamed with mischief. "But we both know peace and quiet isn't your thing when I'm around."

Before you could retort, Leo crowded into your space, the water running over both of you now. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as he smirked down at you.

His wet hair clung to his forehead, and the heat of the water wasn't nearly as distracting as the heat in his gaze.

"You look good like this," he murmured, his hands roaming up your sides, his touch slow and deliberate. "All soaked and flustered."

You swallowed hard, your resolve wavering under his attention. "Leo-"

"Shh," he cut you off, leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. His mouth was insistent, his hands tugging you closer until there wasn't an inch of space left between you. The combination of water and his touch sent shivers racing down your spine.

When he pulled back, his smirk was wider. "Thought you said you wanted quiet."

"Maybe I changed my mind," you shot back, your voice shaky but teasing.

His hands slid lower, gripping your hips as he leaned close to whisper in your ear, "Glad to hear it. Now, be a good girl and spread your legs."

The command sent a flush of heat through you that had nothing to do with the water. Your heart raced as you looked up at him, his features softened only slightly by the steam surrounding you both. He raised an eyebrow, his smirk daring you to disobey.

Slowly, you did as he asked, shifting your legs apart. His smirk deepened, approval flashing in his eyes as his hands slid lower, steadying you. The intimate touch made your breath hitch, your hands bracing against his shoulders as he leaned in closer.

"That's better," he murmured, his lips brushing over your jaw before trailing down to your neck. The combination of his mouth, the water, and his touch had you melting against him, all coherent thought slipping away.

You felt him shift, the heat of his body pressing closer, and then the head of his length brushing against you. Your breath hitched sharply as he guided himself forward, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you steady. Slowly, he pushed into you, filling you inch by inch, the stretch sending a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you.

"Leo..." you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the shower.

"Hmm?" he hummed, not stopping, his mouth now back at your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "Something you need, Honor Roll?"

You didn't answer, too caught up in the way he felt as he seated himself fully inside you. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your neck, his grip on your thighs tightening as he stilled, letting you adjust.

"Good girl," he murmured again, his tone low and full of promise as he pulled back slightly, only to thrust back in. "I knew you could listen."

The rest of the world faded away, leaving only the heat of the water, the intimacy of his movements, and the sound of his voice in your ear. Leo always knew how to command your attention-and in moments like this, you were more than willing to give it.

[joshfutturman]

the golden haired boy & the stars

oneshot - peeta comforts you during your final moments in the games (800 words) pairing - peeta mellark (the hunger games) + reader (gender neutral) warnings: blood, death

shit. night was closing in on the day that seemed to last a lifetime. as your eyes settled on the stars that you knew to be fake, you still found some comfort in that familiar sight. it reminded you of those nights in district twelve, under the constellation-riddled sky - with him.

but those memories were long buried, you couldn't afford to think of them now. those fuzzy warm feelings in your stomach, the way he'd point with that bright-eyed smile and ask questions about the sparkles in the night. because now, you were alone. now, only one of you would make it home. and it had to be him, because how could it ever be you?

when the games had started, you'd ensured that distance was put between the two of you. there was no situation you could be put in that could make you hurt him. it wasn't worth thinking about.

but, as the night closed in on the day that seemed to last a lifetime, your blood was the one soaking into the muddied grass. hand clenching wound, your fingers gripped at the flesh that had been torn at your left side. peeta mellark was nowhere to be seen.

vision growing weaker, your eyelids felt heavy, a warm array of colours dancing behind them. a voice whispered your name. it was quiet at first, gentle, like remembering an embrace. another, this time louder, this time it made you smile. with one more, you slowly let the night sky and those familiar constellations take you.

not yet. something pulled you from that journey, a soft hand on your cheek with the warmth to bring you back to the present. the touch felt desperate, pleading, a thumb brushed across your cheek in a rhythmic pattern. you heard him call out your name.

peeta.

your eyes opened to find him hovering above you, those hazel hues wide through tears. "hey, hey, it's alright." he speaks in a hushed tone as your vision comes back into focus, "you're gonna be alright." and you believe him because peeta mellark never told a lie.

a hand envelops yours over your wound and the coldness seeps from your skin into his. you could feel the slight tremor in his touch as he fought back the sobs that threatened to escape. but all you could do was smile, weakly but still, as you examined his features.

the golden-haired boy whispered, "please don't leave me. . .", with his grip on your wound tightening in a futile attempt to stop the blood. words ran through his mind, all the things he hadn't told you yet, all the things he'd planned to tell you, all the things he'd wished he'd told you before it came to this. how had it come to this?

how had the boy who had admired you from close and afar in district-twelve become the one at your side as you passed? the boy who had sheepishly asked to be your partner in class. the boy who had watched the stars with you after the world became too loud. the boy who had so much to give and now, the only one he wished to give it to - slipping through his fingers.

his eyes stare into yours, afraid to leave them - what if it was the last time? "i'm sorry." he finally muttered after what felt like a lifetime, "i should have stayed with you, tried to protect you. . . i should have told you that-" words cut off with a whimper, peeta rests his head on your chest. the warmth was welcomed. despite your damp surroundings and the length of time it had been since he had been at the bakery, he still held the scent of fresh baked goods, cinnamon and spice. it lingered in your nose and you could have sworn you were back there.

the bakery, where you'd travel every day just to see him. peeta would offer a shy smile through the glass window and you'd wave back. one day, you'd ask him on a date. one day.

the gentle sobs on your chest only served to lull you further, lids closing. you were safe now. it was going to be alright, because peeta was here - it was time to go.

with the rising and falling of your shallow breaths ceasing, his head springs up only to be greeted with your blank stare. ". . .no, nono." peeta mutters, sniffling. "no, please, please it's. . . you can't go. i wanted to. . ." his sentences fail him, over and over. brow furrowed, he lets out soft cries into the night, placing his lips on your forehead with a gentle kiss as he wraps his arms around you. the cannon sounded.

he wouldn't let go. not even when his eyes grew tired and the air grew colder. because how could the boy who had watched the stars with you after the world became too loud let you go? his distant eyes drew upwards towards the constellations. alone, with the world entirely too loud.

[ken-dom]

Need fluffy tummy lars fic 😭

I know this says fluff but we’ve discussed it since, and it’s got some spice too, so… under the cut 😈

NSFW, gn!reader, making out, mentions of panicked and overwhelmed Lars, touch therapy, very light themes of body worship

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

Lars flinched at the hand rucking up the front of his sweater, his three additional layers sliding up with it, leaving his lower belly exposed to the cool air.

He squeezed his eyes shut, worried what you’d think when you realised he didn’t have a six pack of rippling abs you could use as a washboard, but also bracing himself for the impending sensation of his trousers tightening around his waist as you unfastened the clip, and the sound of the zipper being lowered enough for you to free his length.

That’s what came next right — after a kiss like this one? Hungry and needy and desperate? When you’d been practising touch for so long and he’d practically begged you to take it up a notch?

But his trousers remained closed, too tight over his growing bulge, half relief and half disappointment settling uncomfortably in his gut, swirling with the butterflies he couldn’t control.

You moved so slowly, dragging your fingertips along his waistband, ghosting over his skin. He’d never been touched there by someone else. It felt surprisingly nice. Tingly. Warm. He waited for you to change your mind.

As you somehow deepened the kiss further, you eagerly grabbed a handful of his belly, the soft curve filling the hollow of your palm as your fingers tenderly kneaded his flesh.

He moaned, not expecting it to feel so good, but it was comforting as far as touch went, and it sent thrills shooting right to his throbbing core each time you squeezed. A strange combination, but one he felt he’d missed out on for far too long.

Was he supposed to enjoy it like that? Was it supposed to be… sexy as well as comforting? Was he supposed to enjoy that his lips felt swollen and his guts felt like they were churning? Was he supposed to want to c-

He startled as you pulled your lips away to trail hot, sloppy kisses over his stubbled jaw and down his neck, still grabbing at his stomach, and he breathed a choked out and incredulous, ‘Y-you like that?’

‘Mmhmm,’ you hummed against his throat, and he whimpered, swooning back against his pillow, thankful you’d laid down part way through the kiss or he might actually pass out.

‘Your body is incredible,’ you whispered, sliding your hand further up inside his sweater to explore his very grabbable pecs, too. ‘Strong. Soft. Safe. So sexy it’s unreal…’

‘My… body? You like my body?’ he whined, writhing under your touch now. Your arousal pressed against his thigh was doing nothing to steady him.

‘I would’ve thought it was obvious how handsome you are all round, Lars,’ you soothed, leaning down to gently press your lips to his once again.

Lars swallowed hard. Touch therapy was one thing, but boosting his confidence too? Worshipping his body? You were making him dizzy. His cheeks burned.

‘Now take this sweater off, hm?’

‘W-why?’

‘I wanna watch you chop wood with those deliciously strong arms of yours. Too many layers.’

‘Oh- uhm- oh-ok,’ he agreed, smiling, and you lifted yourself off him, stopping to leave a final, wet kiss on the happy trail of that gorgeously soft, exposed belly and a hint of a bite too; just a gentle scrape of your teeth and a light suck, feeling him shudder as your lips popped away before you stood from his bed.

‘I know you want more. One step at a time, though? Like we agreed?’

He nodded, furrowing his brow. You were right. He was so close to becoming overwhelmed and panicking, but he wasn’t sure if even wood chopping would burn off this feeling, or if he’d be able to calm his erection at all without… well…

You took his hand and led him to the door. There, you smoothed down his mussed hair and leaned in close. His breath caught in his chest.

‘When you’ve built us a fire, we can take the rest of your clothes off and try more touching if you want to, alright?’

Was it safe to chop wood when he thought he might pass out? He wasn’t sure he cared.

[acebytaemin]

[end of an era]: closing #analook

first of all, i want to say thank you times five billion to everyone who’s ever tagged me in a post. it goes without saying that i have enjoyed every single one of them and will treasure this entire experience and all the beautiful creations i’ve gotten to see (and discuss in great lengths in the tags of course 🤭). now, that’s partly the reason why i feel like i should wrap it up - you all create such wonderful things and they all deserve my full attention and all the yapping i can muster yet sadly just don’t have the time to type up. it’s silly how much it’s meant to me (i might be tearing up a little) and how much i’m going to miss it, but i really do think it’s for the best. of course, feel free to @ me or send me any post of yours in the future - you know i’ll respond with enthusiasm. though it won’t come close to a gif/edit/artwork, i’ve typed up little thank-you notes to the main contributors to #analook as a token of my gratitude under the cut. love & appreciate you all SO so so so much! 💖

@atlantis-area - my dearest alexa, the reason i even started a user tag and got to experience all this, thank you The most 💖 hopefully you already know how grateful i am for you, so i won’t make it too long. it’s been a pleasure (and will continue to be) to watch your giffing style evolve and to get to be a fan of taemin alongside you. love you! 🩵

@herewegobebe - oh my darling ru where do i start 🥹 i’m soooo so thankful for your wonderful presence and your gifs (as ive already told you numerous times). you’ve been a real highlight of my tag (it’s still a bit of a starstruck moment for me to be your mutual/get tagged in your gifs tbh!) and it’s going to make me really really sad to potentially miss some of your gifs now but best believe i’ll be checking ur blog whenever i can 🙂‍↕️💖

@minhosblr - MAJA my number one gorgeous wino gif source i literally can’t believe you even tagged me in them to begin with i feel like it’s all been such a successful fan moment 🥹🐰🫶🏻 thank you so so much & ofc expect me all up in your tags regardless 😽💓

@kimsuyeon - my lili the absolute master of gifs with gorgeous quality and beautiful coloring and stunning women like you can truly do no wrong in my books anytime i see a gif of yours i get giddy and feel like cracking my knuckles and going IN in the tags. thank you soooo much for gracing me (and everyone else) w your gorgeous gifs 💝

@pink-vacancy - the way im going to miss yuna & mina served on a beautiful platter cannot be overstated.. thank you so much for adding a beautiful touch of cherry red spice to my tag 🙂‍↕️🍒💋 (and kinda beside the point but also for always being SO incredibly sweet & nice to me)

@faunandfloraas - jess my third favorite australian 🤭💕 your creativity and collecting moments/pulling parallels + funny tags have brought me very many giggles, thank you saaaaur much 😽💕

@chanrizard - sa thank you soooo much for my chan gif fixes 💖 and SORRY for all the stuff you’ve had to read in your tags and still tagging me regardless lmfaojfkdjdk you best believe you’ll keep on reading them as i’ll be a frequent visitor of your blog from now on 🫡

@rainknow - your art has been one my favorite things to find in my tag, thank you so so so much for using it! most wonderful capturing of lino i’ve ever seen, no one does his eyes justice like you do 😽💖 (pls if you ever feel like it and i don’t see a post of ur art mention me or send it to me - it’d be highly appreciated!)

@linoyes - thank you SO much for amping up the amount of linos in my tag, it’s been such a delight to see your giffing evolve and im excited to keep yapping in your tags in the future 🤭💞💞💞

@jonghyunluvr - your jjong/taemin posts are always so enjoyable, i love your insights and how you notice the same things as me sometimes hehe 🩵🩵 please do keep sending them to me by all means 😌

@shorelinnes - raf pleaseeee if you want to still send me or tag me in your art.. i’d be so sad to miss it and your gorgeous gifs too! im so very happy to have you around and i appreciate all the posts you’ve tagged me in so so much 💞

@strayklds - em i remember being nervoussss to ask you to tag me hdksjdk i think your gifs are so good and want to thank you Very much for tagging me in them! it’s really been a pleasure 🫶🏻

@briankang - TAY my minchan friend and my bangchan gifs supplier you best believe i’ll be checking your blog 🤭 thank you SO much for all you’ve tagged me in so far 💖 (still thinking abt your minchan ate teasers edits.. changed my life now idk if for the better or worse but. lives have been changed for sure)

@taeiltual - bex your gorgeous edits truly make me think that most of these companies truly need to do better, thank you so much for making everyone look more beautiful and tagging me along (hehe) for the ride! 💖

@ashmp3 @kissoflifes - thank you two SO much for using my tag as intended and for the highest purpose of all - in your gorgeous selfies! (& thank you zaynab for your beautiful gifs too ofc ofc) for sure still send them to me if i happen to miss them we Do Nottt want a tragedy like that to ever strike. love u my beautiful friends 💞💞

@28reas0ns - not directly related to my tag (though you did tag me in a couple of beautiful sets!) but just wanted to once again thank you for my header gif(s) i’ll really treasure them for a long time 💝

and a shoutout to everyone who’s tagged me in a few of their posts, thank you thank you thank you from the bottom of my heart! it’s really felt special every single time and i can’t thank you all enough for thinking of me and inviting me to yap in your tags like one would a vampire into their home. MWAH appreciate you all soooo so much 💖💖💖:

@reiiofsunn 💖 @drzephyr 💖 @hyunjinsource 💖 @minho-knows 💖 @speakofcompersion 💖@linolinoing 💖 @sunugf 💖

[softshuji]

3:19AM | HANMA SHUJI

Title: sugar, spice, and all things nice.

Summary: It's your birthday and Hanma wants to make it special, in a way he knows matters to you most. Link to masterlist here!

cw: afab! reader, mild cursing, mild descriptions of canon typical violence, Shuji is so so soft, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, babe, princess, doll) some kissing, light making out, established relationship, mild suggestive content, overall cute. This is very self indulgent. Reblogs appreciated!

Hanma Shuji scratches his neck as he scours the baking aisle, a basket in one hand, a crumpled recipe torn from a cookbook in the other. It’s late, he knows that and the angry mutter of the late shift workers isn’t lost on him as he peers forward to read the instructions on a shoddily torn paper.

‘What the fuck is this stuff?’ he mutters and tosses another ingredient into the basket, now filled to the brim with the other miscellaneous items. Butter, sugar, vanilla extract (he still doesn’t quite understand how that works), four brands of flour.  His suit is still pressed into place, the creases sharp and clean, the hem tapered perfectly down to his waist from the broad swell of his shoulders. But his eyes are tired, half-closed as he squints at the list of ingredients on the paper. 

Yes he’s 6’4 and fit, but the hunch of his back, the tired slouch is all too noticeable, especially when his hands itch for a cigarette and shake against his volition. 

‘Can I help you sir?’ someone says, and in his sleepy daze he only just registers the voice as a retail service worker curiously eyeing him and the way he shifts on his feet as he looks to no avail for the baking chocolate. 

‘I’m looking for…’ His eyes flick to the recipe again. ‘Baking chocolate with um… 75% cocoa solids.’ He’s not sure what that means either but the recipe says he needs it.

‘Just here Sir.’ They reach towards the shelf at his eyeline and hand it to him and he frowns at himself for having missed it so completely. Gosh he really is tired. 

He feels the need to explain himself, as if this entire endeavour wasn’t out of character for him already. 

‘It’s for my girl,’ he says and drops the chocolate into the basket with a thunk. ‘It’s her birthday tomorrow. Wanted to make her something.’ 

They nod, pursing their lips, eyes cutting to the suit, the basket, the dark shadows on his face, the ink that slips from beneath his sleeve. They turn away and Shuji can see the question left unasked written on their face as they leave him in the baking aisle under the sickly artificial lights. 

It’s a tad excessive, over the top, exorbitant even, the lengths he’s going just to make the day special for you, as if the motorbike he bought isn’t still sitting under a plastic sheet in the garden waiting for you. Another indulgent gift. 

He rubs his eyes, pressing his palms to his temples as his vision swims for a beat before checking his items out at the self-service. He’s tripped over his feet a few times, dropped his card, cursed under his breath even as he fishes in his pockets for the keys to his car, and perhaps driving isn’t such a great idea in his state, but the need for sleep is weighing so heavily on him and he needs to be in your bed or he’ll die he thinks. Again, a tad excessive, but it’s all he knows. He’s contradictions and indulgence. 

The drive home is long and tedious, copper street lights flashing by, dragging across tinted windows and Shuji pressing a little harder on the gas, an unlit cigarette hanging languidly between his lips. More than once, the slope of his shoulders has softened, head drifting towards the wheel. And More than once, he has shaken it off with a shake of his head and a deep breath, the sting of exhaustion pulling at his eyes that are dimmed with sleeplessness.

He knows, realistically speaking, you don’t expect this of him, you never expect much, you never ask and it both pains him and not, that you’re used to the chaos of his lifestyle in a way that never has you demanding him of anything, even when you deserve to, even when he can admit he’s been subpar.

When he slips through the door, the house is quiet, still in that way it often is when he comes home in the weak hours of the night, the clouds pregnant with oncoming rain, the patter of it a clink against the windowsill, the drone of the TV left as background noise. You can never sleep in the silence, in the bareness of the world without him and yet he leaves you time and time again every night, to navigate your dreams alone. You never hold it against him and he wishes you would, wishes you were less forgiving sometimes, less able to hold him together and yourself, less like you love him and more like you don’t.

He pops his head in, and sees your hair spilling across the dove grey of the pillow, your hand cradling your cheek and the other reaching to his side where he should be, where he prefers to be. Maybe it’s because he’s tired and fatigued and the exhaustion seems like its withering in the marrow of his bones, but he loves you so much right then, peaceful, safe in the house you share and if he could keep you there, forever, for as long as he could, he would do it.

He’s silent as he pads back to the kitchen, flicking on the stove’s overhead light and fishing in the bags, frowning against the waxen yellow that fills his periphery. 

He reads the instructions and it’s jargon to him really, pulling open cupboards and drawers and cursing under his breath when the metal clinks in a way that has his teeth on edge.

More than once, he thinks he hears your footfall on the stairs and scrambles to hide the countertop with his frame, as if the flour on his cheeks isn’t evidence enough of his midnight endeavours. You don’t wake and he slips the haphazardly created…thing in the oven, tuning the dial and waiting with a patience he finds uncharacteristic of himself, chewing on the end of his unlit cigarette in his suit that feels almost too tight, too cold,  scratchy and rough against his skin. 

When he pulls it out of the oven, and peels the baking paper, exactly as the instructions said, he’s almost proud of himself. He knows he isn’t doing it for himself, he knows he has nothing material to gain from it, and maybe it’s an apology, far less than he believes you deserve but an apology nonetheless.

For staying.

For trusting him.

For being led by the hand into the debauchery and sin of his world and never making it seem like he’d forced you there, into a place where there is little certainty and even less love, for staying the same regardless of what you had seen with him.

He trips on the breakfast bar stool and his hands skim the hot metal of the tin and he curses, for the umpteenth time, at the crash of metal that clatters to the ground and resounding echo of it that’s swallowed by the house.

He hears you then, your resounding footsteps, sock-clad and light. ‘Shuji?’ you say from the bottom of the stairs, in his shirt that’s entirely too big and thin for the chill that still creeps in through the draughts. Your hair is bunched on the one side from where it’s been pressed into the pillow, the shirt crumpled in the corner from your weight, goosebumps licking at the exposed flesh of your arms. You have never been prettier than now, in his shirt, his house, and safe where he can see you, where there is nothing but you and him.

‘Sweetheart,’ he says and coughs into his hand, his throat heavy with sleep and nicotine and disuse, voice laced with the sluggishness of fatigue. ‘Why are you up?’

‘I- I heard sounds, I came to check just in case.’ You step into the light of the kitchen, the silhouette of him burned and spilling onto the marble countertop, the outline of him ringed in golden yellow, big and beautiful, as if he could swallow the world whole. 

‘You came to check? Could have been dangerous, Pretty Girl,’ he says, and attempts to manoeuvre himself enough to cover the fruits of his labour behind him, as if the crumpled paper, torn packets and chocolate on the countertop isn’t evidence enough.

‘Maybe, but are you dangerous?’ You eye the spatula thrown into the sink, the mixing bowl turned on its side with the leftover contents spilling out, the flour that marks a trail to the oven and the fridge and dusted on his sleeves.

‘I might be.’

‘You’re not,’ you say and you step in front of him, his shadow eating you whole, blocking the the fluorescent stove light, the golden hue of his irises now dimmed and flecked with a pale waxen yellow. ‘You’re my Shuji, you’re just perfect.’

It feels instinctual, inevitable when you touch him, with a softness he has grown to love and an honesty that he’s always found abundant in you and lacking in himself. You touch him like you could break him, like he could fall apart at your hands like clay left in the sun. He could and you know that, that it is the tenderest feeling he has ever felt, the warmth of your palms on his cheeks. He sinks, unwillingly, involuntarily, into your cupped hands, lashes kissing at his cheeks as he exhales, the cold drag of tiredness spilling from his bones. 

‘You’re tired.’ Your thumb finds the sharp angle of his cheekbones, his jaw, tracing over the fine details of him, as if you’re committing him to memory, as if you could forget him tomorrow and he could slip through your fingers just so, tumbling into the ether without you.

It’s never been a secret, and you’ve never shied away from the knowledge that on any day like today, where his collar is stained with blood, cologne and smoke and the metallic tang pressed into his shirt that you run your hands on every morning, he might not return. 

 He knows you know that, you’re smart, diligent enough to be aware of what you were getting into. But it never means he doesn’t worry, doesn’t hold you tighter to his chest when he’s reminded of the lingering fear that he’ll be your death one day. 

‘What were you doing?’ you say and attempt to peek behind him where his hands are haphazardly covering something from view. ‘You didn’t come to bed.’

‘I was…’ And he manoeuvres his body to cover his creation, sliding this way and that and all too suspicious to be believable. ‘Hey, why are you trying to look?!’ 

‘Why are you being so secretive all of a sudden?!

You lean to the side and the broad swell of his chest bumps your head. 

‘It’s a surprise!’

‘I want to see it! If you don’t let me, no kissing for a whole week.’

‘Oh yeah? I’d like to see you live up to that Princess.’

‘Do you think I can’t go without you for a week?’ 

‘Oh Pretty Girl,’ he says and his lips brush your ear, teeth nipping at the tantalising flesh of your neck that he licks in a long line in one go, your breath caught in your throat, dizzying and heady all at once. ‘I know you can’t go without me for a week, you’re a shameless little thing.’

You pull back, hoping the shadow of him swallows the light enough to hide the avid redness spreading along your cheeks, the crimson touch of embarrassment that kisses at your skin and he grins, victorious and giddy despite his fatigue and despite it all. It’s you, and you are worth trying for.

‘You really won’t let me see?’ you say and plant your hands on his sides, his waist where it dips along his hips. You have always marvelled at how real he feels in your hands, how marvellous and beautiful, how you could eat him, and he you, living in each other’s skin, swallowing each other like fruit, like there are no people as insatiable and in love as you. You know there aren’t, you’re convinced you made it up, this thing called love. That it exists for the two of you to feel alone, as if you invented it. All lovers think that.

‘You wanna see it that bad? It’s nothing special, and you had better not laugh or I’m taking it back.’ It’s laced with humour but you can tell by him scratching at his neck, that it’s the closest he comes to embarrassment, as much as he’s able to feel. An awkwardness in incapability, in lack of knowledge, in an inadequacy you know he feels but never expresses.

‘I would never.’ You hold up your hand, as if to swear by it and he steps to the side almost sheepishly, rubbing at his neck, lacking the tell-tale grin, his sleeves rolled to the elbows from where chocolate has stained his cuffs, smeared against silver cufflinks that you help him with in the morning, the fruit of your love.

You stare. 

And there is silence, loud enough to drown out the patter of rain slapping against the window.

You stare, and you admit, it is lopsided, a little messy, decorating the countertop with half of the batter. 

There’s a candle in the centre of his haphazardly baked chocolate cake, unlit and leaning to the side, smudged with a dash of chocolate. And you know, in the very depth of your heart, it is the greatest gift you could be given. It’s him, presenting his heart on a plate, with all that it comes with. The danger, fraught with violence, the chaos of him that’s hot to the touch and wrapped in thorns, that you’ve so effortlessly softened with your own hands. Messy and disordered and lacking in the etiquette of more refined gifts and so entirely yours that it aches inside you, to an extent that has you sniffling into the sleeve of your nightgown, the tears unbidden and unrelenting, disappearing into the soft cotton of your sleeves. 

You see panic in your periphery, his darting eyes that move from his haphazard creation to you and your lips wobbling, hunched in your kitchen crying into your sleeves, your breath short and weak. 

‘You’re crying, why are you crying?’ he says, and he feels it, the well and bubble of fear that eats at him, panic that’s always so foreign now scratching at his bones, at his head so heavy with the need for sleep. 

‘Is it bad? You don’t like it? I know it doesn’t look very good but it probably tastes better-’ and it’s painful to ramble when you’re falling apart at his hands and he wants to touch you, hold you, wrap you in the safe confines of him where he thinks he can fix it, put you together like you’ve done to him, coaxing him away from the shoreline again. You’re inadequate, you are a joke, you are good for nothing but pain. He feels the shoreline creep along the edge of his thoughts.

You hiccup and turn to him, the worry spilling across his face, so beautiful and full of life and lacking the grin that you love and have come to cherish. ‘Shuji, My Baby-’

‘I’m sorry Princess.’

‘Babe-’

‘I’ll get rid of it, you can go back to sleep, I’ll get you something better-’

You grab his collars and tug, with conviction and determination, till his lips all but crash against yours. He makes a sound of surprise in the back of his throat, his hands instinctively coming to wrap around your throat, holding you by the back of your neck and firm enough to keep you in place as his tongue slides against yours. You bite down hard, playfully tug at his lips and it’s all teeth and need and urgency and want, hands running down his chest till you feel the tension slip from the hard rigid muscle of him, till he softens against you in a way that you love him for. 

And you do, you do love him, enough to want to eat the sun, to rage, to whisper into his hair every night, to die and kill for him with conviction, as if it’s you that has sullied your hands to get to him. You would go to him crawling and blind if you had to, reach for him wherever, be the hero he has been so many times for you if it meant keeping him. You’ve never needed him to repeat it, to love you in the way others do, romantic and pristine and textbook. You would have him like this, bloodied and guns- blazing and grinning as if the world rested in his palms. It does.

He pulls back, holding your throat in one hand, stroking the column of it under his thumb, resting it in the dip. ‘What was that for Princess? Aren’t you upset?’

You shake your head and bring it to rest against his shoulder, your hands flat on the swell of his back, the muscles shifting and sliding underneath. ‘I’m happy dummy, so happy.’

‘What was all the crying for then Pretty Girl? You worried me.’

‘I really love you, you know that? I don’t say it enough.’

‘You don’t need to, you know how we are, we don’t need to say it.’

You lift your head, and your eyes meet his, glowing a faint amber beneath his lowered lashes, the shadows greying and darkened underneath, and it never takes away from him, never makes him lesser despite himself. You want him, with an unquenchable lust and love and respect and admiration that you have reserved just for him, an avid insatiable want that has you keening in withdrawal when he’s not around.

‘I just want you to know, you’re mine, and I like it, I like everything you give and do for me, you’re my hero remember?’

‘Mhm, sorry Doll.’ 

‘What for?’

‘Should’a got you something better, a ring maybe, nice pretty thing for a Pretty Girl like you.’ A whisper against the crown of your hair. It’s almost shameful, how easily you love him, how easy you make it seem, as if he doesn’t wash the blood from his hands every night when it’s caked into his nails, as if this life isn’t built on the bones of others that he’s gleefully stepped on, repeatedly, as if it has not meant anything.

‘Don’t.’ You hold his face and frown, your cheeks still wet with tears, your sniffles still drying against the shoulder of his shirt, a small puddle that you know he doesn’t mind. ‘Don’t ever apologise to me, you have nothing to ever be sorry for. I would kill for you, do you understand?’ 

‘Oh yeah?’ he says, chastised, albeit playfully, and like that, you know you’re fine, more than fine, and perhaps it’s just the fatigue of the day, emotions caught in the way they often are between you. Because he loves you in a way that devours him, fire swallowing up the earth. ‘You’d protect me huh Baby?’

‘You know I would, I’d fight anyone for you.’

He chuckles, breathy and soft, laced with a tiredness that his bones aching and it feels good, it feels right to be here, sleepy and vulnerable and with you. Where he belongs.

‘Yeah I know,’ he says and his lips brush your forehead with a tenderness that you know is yours entirely, another gift to you. 

‘Happy Birthday Princess.’

a/n: ah haha yeahh, I don't have any explanation for this, just that the 28th march is my birthday and this is a present to myself ('n' to my baby, who knows who they are ofc) I had this in my drafts since last year actually but I only just finished it. Anyway, thank you everyone, all the time, for everything. if you ever would like to donate to my ko-fi, and i'd love that, but thank you always.

taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies @mxnjiros @islascafe @swqllen @prettyiolanthe @sugusshi @wotakuhime @snakegentleman @severellamahottub @haitaniapologist @lonnie19 @nafarsiti @bejeweled-night-33 @ranscutedoll @the-travelling-witch @orchid3a @rottingreveries @qiiuusoup @hoetani @sinfulseashell @welcome-to-the-internet-it-sucks @obitohno @tetsutits @burnishedcrown @sweet-seishu @saintokkotsu @nikokopuffs (let me know if you'd like to be added)

[tinkerbelle05]

And that's what makes this so tragic

Characters: Gwen Stacy x fem!reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: Gwen left you, she just cuts you off so you were forced to moved on. But you saw her again, and now you’re going to confront her.

Warning: Angst, grief over a relationship, arguments, lying

It’s been a long year or so. You met a girl, fell in love with her, all for her to just leave you. With no warning, no phone number, or traces, she just leaves you.

It made you wonder if all those nights were fake and she was just saying words that she thought you‘ll like to hear.

“Your so pretty,” Gwen would compliment you. “You play your instruments so well. You are so talented.”

Were you so desperately lonely that you’ll clung to a beautiful stranger’s praises so easily? Is this all she took you for? A desperate lonely person?

When those thoughts had gotten so loud, when they have clearly overstayed their welcome, you’ll ground yourself with the little notes she’ll write for you.

The writing ultinsel of choice would change day to day. Sometimes a dull pen that's running out of ink, a pencil, or a bright orange sharpie. But her words were always the same. They were words of affirmation, comforting thoughts that showed you undeniable proof that she was there, that she existed.

That this love or attraction, or whatever people chose to label it existed too. It was present, real, and alive, if only for a fleeting moment.

It was also undeniable that she left as quickly as she came, however. And life would move on with or without you, so you had to move on too. It was the most heart-wrenching choice but the only option available. You tried to be content with her gorgeous smile and bright blue eyes existing only within the confines of your thoughts and music book. You will be content with it, eventually.

“It's good to see you out of the house, mija.” Ms. Morales greeted you with a kiss and a hug.

You smiled into her shoulder, “It’s good to be here, Mrs. Morales.” You look around, taking in the sights and sounds around you, someone was missing. “Hey, do you know where Miles is?”

Her soft smile melted into a straight line, “No, I haven’t but when I will….” The threat was obvious even though no words were said. “Let me know when you see him. For now, go eat something.”

Nodding your head, you made your way through the crowd of people and to where the food was. Hot steam flows from the abundance of vegetables and meat. You can smell the multiple seasonings and spices that must have been used in their creation.

You grabbed a paper plate and made sure to get one of each. You balanced that, with a can of soda, and your phone. You sat down and dug into the food, enjoying the atmosphere around you. You were enjoying yourself when you saw familiar blond hair. You heard that laughter, that voice.

Your heart stopped and you strained your ears to hear more. Maybe you were mistaken, maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. It’s been a while. But still you had to make sure.

Could that be Gwen?

You placed your plate and soda can down, and looked over. There were two people under the tower, you definitely heard Miles’ voice. You felt weird eavesdropping but you had to know if it was her.

And it was. It was her.

Her haircut was the same half-shaven length she had before. She claimed she did it spontaneously and she wanted a dramatic new look. She was wearing a familiar oversized sweater. You couldn't breath. It's like everything around you disappeared. All you saw was Gwen, the way she smiled, the way she laughed. You felt like a weight was lifted off of your chest and you wanted to run to her. To hug her, to tell her how much you missed her.

She left you.

And with that high came the low. You remember how you felt when you discovered that she left. You felt lost, confused, betrayed. You half thought that you imagined Gwen.

“Gwen!” You yelled for her and watched as she turned around in shock. She smiled at you but that changed when she saw how angry you were.

You didn't give her the chance to say anything, “Where the hell were you?!”

Miles looked between the two of you, “Uh how do y’all know each other?”

You glared at him but softened up a bit. You were not mad at him so it makes no sense to blow up at him. You take a deep breath, “Miles, I need to talk to Gwen right now. And afterward I'll explain, okay?”

Miles looked between the two of you again and nodded then left. Now it was just the two of you, the music faded into the background as tension took the forefront.

“I can explain,” Gwen said quickly. “I know that your angry at me, and you have every right to. But please let me explain to you.”

You stared at her. She looked sincere enough so you nod. As angry as you were, you were also wildly curious. The question kept you up at night, where did she go and why?

You two found a pair of steps that were secluded from the party, giving you two privacy. Both of you sat on the stoop with a generous amount of space between you. You wanted to be calm about this. You were beyond angry and hurt but maybe she had a half decent reason for leaving.

“Well, Gwen?” You prompted her.

You watch as she takes a deep breath, “I…I was in some trouble. Family issue and stuff. That’s why I left in a rush and didn’t talk to you.”

She was lying.

It wasn’t something you knew deep inside of you or whatever. She had a tell. She’s tapping her fingers on her knees. When you two were in the beginning of your relationship, whenever you told her you liked something she’ll say that she liked it too. The lies were convincing but she couldn’t elaborate on why she liked that tv show or book, and she would tap her knees. Like she’s doing right now.

Those were little white lies of a girl who was trying to be liked by someone so you didn’t really mind. But this. This was different. You took the time to hear her out and all she could do was lie to you. And to your face at that.

“Gwen,” you tried to keep your voice from breaking like your heart was doing right, you tried not to cry, knowing that you would not stop, “you are lying to me right now. Your tapping your knee, which means your lying.”

Silence engulfs the two of you as Gwen mulled on what are you had said to her. You were tired of this. So, so tired. You had imagined your reunion with Gwen multiples with multiple scenarios. None of them were about her lying to you, and none were about how heartbroken you were.

“Listen, I’m-“ Gwen starts but you put your hand to stop her. You didn’t want to hear anymore of her lies. You couldn’t stomach it. You just couldn’t.

You got up from the stoop and dusted yourself off. With your back turned to Gwen, you left her with these final words, “Gwen, I don’t know why you left or why you felt like you had to lie to me. But I…I feel like we should probably stop talking for right now.”

With some courage you turned your head to see that Gwen was crying with you. She attempts to get closer but you maintain your distance. “We had so many good memories, and I do not want them to be overshadowed by the lies and the secrets.”

Gwen shakes her head and doesn’t bother wiping the tears, “No, please. I messed up I know, I know. But please. I still like you, please.”

“And that's what makes this so tragic. Goodbye, Gwen.” Was all you could say to her and you walked back to the party putting on a fake smile.

Tags: @eight-cats-in-a-box, @itstooearly-its3am, @spider-bren, @dunghirse, @ellatienesuscosas, @justbeethings, @jam-skullz, @hoeboat101, @butterfi, @dreamxcollide, @sleepdeprivationis4coolkids, @itstooearly-its3am, @eight-cats-in-a-box, @maypersonne, @rosebunny, @midnight-the-shadow-wolf, @emgavi, @somberhhu, @sawi-06, @niktwazny303, @nagi3seastorm, @ghostsimp000, @vixqn, @keawio, @nerdyparker616, @jell0buss-37, @mur-docs, @shibble, @somber-starz, @707xn, @cloudstrifefantatic, @yourtsahik, @im-jisoo-im-okay, @1uvvmi, @minimari415, @luci1fer, @centipider, @randomhoex, @universallypeanutpizzapersona, @baddiebehaviourxx, @m4rihrts, @laylasbunbunny, @andhdi68a, @avatarl0v3r, @spider-bren, @skullux

Taglist & Masterlist & Reqs Info

Reqs are open!!

[strangerthingsfanworkrecs]

Podficcer Highlight: Socknonny

This week, we're highlighting @socknonny! All recs this week will be for her work.

@socknonny writes and creates podfics for the Stranger Things fandom, specifically Harringrove.

@ihni recommended her as her go-to pod-ficcer.

"Well they've read a few things I've written and I LOVE the way they read fics. I was hooked after they worked their magic on a poem I wrote, But really everything I have heard by them is so good. Their voice is so good and calming, and clear (to one whose first language isn't English) and easy to follow and understand.

Ihni highlighted her podfic, Notes.

Socknonny answered some questions about her creative process, inspirations, and work under the cut

Why Stranger Things?

I’ve played D&D since I was a teenager, and always love a good horror/suspense, so the show itself was well up my alley from the start. But in terms of fic creation, it was Billy that drew me to Stranger Things. He’s an angry, traumatized metalhead, dealing with his issues by lashing out at anyone who gets too close, and I could relate to those feelings even if I couldn’t relate to the actions themselves.

What's your favorite ship (platonic or romantic) to create for?

It’s Harringrove for this fandom, but I’m a multishipper at heart and I love seeing any number of combinations. I thoroughly enjoy Steddie, Mungrove, and all three of them together (can’t remember what we’re calling that? Metal sandwich?). I also enjoyed some Keg boys when that was popular (Tommy, Steve, Billy). 

What's your typical writing process like?

Depends on if it’s fic or OF. If it’s fic, I find it a bit like poetry. I’ll have a feeling I want to illustrate, and I’ll kind of just sit down and meander through some scenes, led purely by vibes. I’m usually trying to explore some aspect of character, or sift through different situations to understand them better. I like to hear the character’s voices in my head as I’m writing. If it’s OF, I’m quite regimented these days. I plot out story beats, climaxes, character arcs, etc, and then dictate out a first draft (it’s much easier than typing for me). Then I have a whole set of worksheets I created to go through and edit. 

How did you get started with PodFics?

I…. honestly can’t remember? Oh wait, yes. The first podfic I ever recorded was on my phone and it was a little tumblr ficlet for a different fandom. It had a really lovely response, with the writer inspired to make a part two, and so I kept going. Like with all fandom stuff, it was the community aspect that made it so wonderful. You’d narrate something, and people would chime in with commentary and share it around. Even if it’s only one or two people, it always gives me such a boost and I just want to do more.

What's your typical PodFic process like? Is there a tool you especially like?

Before I begin a project, I need to play around with voices a bit. I’ll adjust each voice according to different variables (how fast/slow, how nasally, how rough, what emotion/tone?) until I get one I like, and then I can start. I do a small singing warmup before recording, and then I can usually only get through about 30 recorded minutes before I’m fidgety. Editing afterwards takes about double the recorded length, for now. But I’m hoping to improve that as I get better at breath control and don’t need to edit out so many mouth clicks!

Is there a tool you especially like? 

I often use Audacity, but I think Studio One has a better sound? I’m still working it out!

What has been your favorite project so far? Why?

Aaahhhh that’s so hard! For my fics, I probably enjoyed Ride the Lightning the most, because it’s one of the few times I wove spice into the plot, and so felt I could really dig into it. But I also reeeeally loved making ‘two-faced son of a bitch’, because it’s weird and emotional and poetic, which is my jam. For podfics, I would genuinely pick ihni’s Notes. I know ihni recced it here, so it feels like I’m following that, but I really loved recording that one. It has lovely emotion in the words, and because it’s a poem I got to put soothing music to the back of it. It’s one I can happily listen to again, which is kind of rare with my podfics. Even my later ones, I know I would record them better/different these days and so I struggle to listen.

What has been your hardest project so far? Why?

I wouldn’t say I have a particularly hard project, but I had a hard period when I was experiencing undiagnosed asthma and allergies. My voice stopped sounding right, and it was too hard to record in a dusty cupboard, so I had to stop altogether. I’ve sort of got that under control now though! 

Have you ever had a creative block? How did you get over it?

Oh definitely. But imo creative block is just a problem you can’t identify yet. There’s something wrong with the work, and you need to sit on it for a while until you can resolve it. Which is frustrating at first, because your taste is better than your skill! You can see the problem, but you’ve no idea how to fix it. But I find the more you write and the more comfortable you get with your own style, the less of an issue those blocks are because you start to pick the problem apart with more intentionality. It might still take weeks or months to fix, but it doesn’t worry you the same, I feel, because you know it’s just part of the process.

Is there a big source of inspiration for you? Books? Art? Games?

Music and Science :D I love flowing through the emotions of a song, like ‘the price we pay (the promise we made)’ or using the same root inspiration as the jumping off point for a story. And I also love reading scientific articles or non fiction books, and discovering something interesting about the natural world, and then incorporating that into a ‘what if’. Even if that ‘what if’ is just a very small component of world building, like that species of flower that’s shaped/colored to attract a bee that went extinct ages ago. That could be magic, you know?

Is there an upcoming project you're particularly excited about?

I haven’t been active on this account for a while, so I don’t have anything big planned, but I would like to come back and finish my Billy x Dean crossover. I had just committed to continuing it when Destiel went canon, and ended up just kind of staring at the screen like, well what now XD Even though I’m a multishipper and it doesn’t bother me, that time was so wild it felt strange to continue. But I think I’m ready now.

Is there anything we didn't ask that you'd like to add?

Not that I can think of! Thanks so much for inviting me to chat here :) The questions were brilliant and I had a lot of fun thinking them through. And thanks so much to ihni for nominating me!

[luminouslywriting]

hello! could you do headcanons of BoB mens with a nurse?? 💕

Hi sweet Nonny! I have a soft spot for this particular idea, so I hope you enjoy! As always, my requests are open and I don't mind spam!

Cut for length, more under the cut, light spice sprinkled in:

Dick Winters:

-Winters has a lot on his mind and falling in love with a field nurse is admittedly not on his radar....so that being said, it's a gradual thing that he's barely even aware of

-But you know who is totally clocking the way that he checks on you, takes the time to talk to you even when he's busy, and always is super kind to you? Lewis Nixon. Lew picks up on this and brings it to Winter's attention.

-He's not exactly trying to start anything with the war on, but once he's aware of the feelings, he tries to maintain professional decorum and courtesy.

-However....he can't help but be worried about you, especially during the winter months. It's probably at this juncture that he lets you know that he's thinking about you and worried often.

-He's very sweet and definitely needs a partner where there's an equality in taking care of one another, so this balances out beautifully.

-Also loves when you medically info-dump, he finds it adorable haha

Lewis Nixon:

-Immediately becomes besties with you in Toccoa because his brain cells told him you'd be the best person to be friends with. He was right, he just didn't expect to have a thing for you amidst his divorce.

-The friendship is honestly a lifeline to him and you keep him going for a while—there's just a lot of being there for one another and checking in on one another.

-It's not just friendship stuff though; he's a chronic flirt and can't help that the two of you already act like an old married couple (in the most positive and great way possible)

-When the divorce goes through near the end of the war, he realizes that it's all working out for the best anyway; you've been by his side the entire time anyway

-Has a really sweet confession with you when you're in Austria and expresses that he couldn't have done any of what he did without you

-Also is super supportive of career and life goals that you have for when you get back to the states

Ronald Speirs:

-Honestly, he sees you as one of the few people that he trusts implicitly because you're just good at your job anyway and you're there to help the men, not to gain glory

-It automatically endears you to him in a way that literally no one else (sans the medics lol) will ever understand

-I think the relationship honestly is a bit back and forth/will they-won't they for a while....and that leads to some hooking up casually in between missions or whenever you two can get a free second

-And he does want to make things official, but he also doesn't want you to feel committed to him and then have something happen

-So he doesn't commit to admitting how he feels until after the end of the war, at which point he romantically shows up at your home and confesses everything

-Please just say yes, he's been in love with you FOREVER

Buck Compton:

-Probably meets you when he takes one of his friends to the aid station and you're there

-He's immediately lovestruck with practical heart eyes....and yes, Donald Malarkey has to hear way too much about you from this point onwards haha

-Writes home about you to his family and starts making little visits to the aid station unannounced when there's precious little downtime to see how you're doing

-Things are a casual sweet thing and nothing really happens between the two of you since it's war and there's really not time for that

-But then he ends up at the aid station after Bastogne and is so mortified about everything and doesn't want to talk to you at all. He's ashamed of how he left things before he ended up back at home because he didn't really tell you goodbye or anything.

-Once the war is over though, he tracks you down to tell you that he's sorry and that he loves you.

Carwood Lipton:

-Honestly? You're a source of light during the hard times and just as much of a mom as he is a dad haha. The two of you are such mother hens over all of the men in Easy Company, no one can win if the two of you team up.

-That being said, you're also obnoxiously trying to get the other person to take care of themselves.

-He's not about to say anything to you, despite his many letters home to his sisters and his mother about you

-But when he gets pneumonia? After Bastogne? Just take care of him and coddle him and love on him a bit. All bets will be off the table as to when he tells you that he has feelings.

-Probably starts a relationship with you once you're both in Austria and asks you to marry him before the end of the war

-Everyone in Easy Company regards you two as the mom and dad since Nixon and Winters aren't around as much haha

Joe Liebgott:

-Doesn't wanna go to the aid station, doesn't think he needs anyone to help him, doesn't even wanna have medical attention—and all of these complaints literally shut him up the minute he sets eyes on you

-And suddenly he's very chilled out and okay to be there?? Yeah, he's chill now.

-Some light flirting and touchiness here or there, but nothing too serious

-He probably even convinces you to have a fling in the hospital closet or something—war is war, after all

-But doesn't consider anything you two have serious until after episode 9 and then he realizes just what you mean to him and he has a whole revelatory period where he treats you like you're God or something

-Absolutely proposes before you make it out of Austria haha

Donald Malarkey:

-This sweet man? Who constantly is taking his friends to and from the aid station and hanging out and checking on people? Absolutely and easily makes friends with you.

-It's not necessarily flirting, per say. He's very respectful and very sweet about mentioning that you're low on supplies to higher ups or asking if the aid station is still doing okay.

-Doesn't even realize he has feelings for you?? Probably not until the very end of the war.

-And then he's freaking out because you're all gonna be going your separate ways in the next few weeks and how is he gonna find you then??

-Well it's quite simple really, you already gave him your address haha. So he spends some time at home before making a trip out to see you.

-It's not a "date date" but it's definitely a date and it just progresses from there lol

Eugene Roe:

-Literally Easy Company's shining ship of dreams?? Like if you and Roe don't make it, then there's no hope for anyone else haha.

-You two have worked together since Toccoa and were always close, speaking in your own practical secret language and exchanging smiles, stealing moments with one another

-In fact, they wouldn't be surprised if the two of you aren't already married. Except for the fact that you're not and the two of you are being SLOW AF about your feelings.

-In Bastogne though? It's a whole catalyst for him telling you how he feels because you narrowly make it out of the church before it collapses and it's a whole shitshow.

-And he's thinking about the fact that he almost lost you and you would've never known how loved you are or how much he'd miss you

-Yeah you two are getting married in Europe before the end of the war haha

Bill Guarnere:

-This man is an escapee from the hospital wing multiple times. And those multiple times, he struck up a pretty good friendship with you.

-He wasn't happy to be there initially, but once he found out you were from Philly too, he chilled out completely and the two of you became great friends

-Bill writes you when he's in the field since you're always back in the hospitals at London

-And Joe knows that he may or may not have a crush on you, and is always prodding him to just admit things to you

-But it isn't until they show up together in the hospital, both missing legs, that things are admitted

-He's pleasantly surprised and shocked when you kiss him and tell him that he took way too long and you're too committed to him at this point haha

Joe Toye:

-A sweet man like this ends up at the aid station and isn't too happy about it—but he takes his medicine like a man and is very respectful.

-You don't really want to clear him to go back into the field but you do, somewhat begrudgingly.

-And when he ends up back in the hospital, leg missing and in total distress, it's you that keeps him centered and keeps him going.

-He doesn't realize until he gets back to the states that he misses you, so he starts writing you letters. He doesn't expect anything to come of writing you—who would want to end up with him, after the accident, after all?

-And slowly, the letters from him stop. And so you just roll up one day?? Like SIR, I LIKE YOU—WRITE ME BACK!

-The wedding is the cutest thing ever and only a few members of Easy Company are invited.

George Luz:

-He hits on you from Day 1 in Toccoa. And when you give him a shot in the butt, it shuts him right up and he does not flirt with you (verbally anyway) anymore after that haha.

-He becomes your most vocal supporter and parrots your instructions back to the men because you know what you're talking about

-Checks in on you after each jump to see how you're doing and make sure that the men aren't treating you rudely

-You two probably hook up after Bastogne and his near-death experiences, leading to a budding relationship between the two of you

-Don't worry, Lipton ignores it so he doesn't have to deal with the consequences lol

-And George? He's absolutely ready to marry you and proposes the same day that the war ends

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: in the house we remain

Aziraphale buys a quiet cottage in the middle of the English countryside. It is perfect in every way: old-style, quaint, surrounded by wilderness, with a small water feature in the back and a price to rival that of any other property he's seen. He is in love from the moment he sees it. But when a mysterious set of books, all written by unknown author A.J. Crowley, appears on his book shelf, Aziraphale begins to wonder if there is perhaps more to this house than he'd originally believed. The truth can be buried, but it cannot stay hidden forever.

Length: 48,334 words

AO3 Rating: Mature / Spice Level 🔥

Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, At Home, Angst, Human AU

Triggers: Major Character Death

Read it here, fic by commodorecliche

*Minor Spoilers* This story of Aziraphale falling in love with a ghost is one of the most gripping and beautiful stories I've ever read. It is such a powerful piece of fiction. Seamlessly blending romance with mystery and horror. Get your tissues, settle in, this one will haunt you.

Aziraphale has just moved to a cozy cottage in the countryside. If he's hearing things, feeling weird drafts, and noticing things out of place, well, that's just him settling in. Soon, there will be no denying the strange events, and it starts with a set of unpublished books written by an AJ Crowley. The previous, deceased, owner of the house.

This is heartbreaking. It's grief pools over everything. As Aziraphale learns more about the entity who haunts his cottage you will start to grieve as well. The way they begin to communicate was so thrilling and the softest romance. On one hand, we know they're soulmates and belong together despite any obstacle. On the other, it's a tragedy and horrifying. It's gorgeous and grotesque.

It's mostly safe in public, but an at home read for me. If you were destroyed by All of Us Strangers, I think you'll want to check this out. But mind the tags and warnings, there is graphic descriptions of death and major character death. Technically a happy ending? But that's a grey area in itself. I'd love to know how you guys feel about this ending actually

Read it here, fic by commodorecliche

P.S Spoilers under the cut because I want to scream about this story so come back once you've read this

I literally started crying when Aziraphale discovers what was tucked into the attic, the way Crowley was never appreciated as an author was so painful!! Crowley's death destroyed me!! The scene of the water splashing and Aziraphale trying to save him??? Only to come inside and see him?? THE ART???? This one has got me UNWELL.

But also what a horror! Aziraphale never experiencing a full life with Crowley, never knowing the physical touch of a person for what was it 40 years?? That's both romantic and devastating.

UGH I will never get over the scene of Aziraphale watching Adam discover his body. It made my blood run cold. And how Crowley had to watch over his decaying body as well. FUCK this one is so insanely good and how can I explain that to a normie? Hm? Yeah this human au of my blorbos falling in love even though one of them is a ghost literally had me crying screaming and throwing up and this is a normal thing for me

My views on the ending? I think I lean on the horror end of the scale. Yes they are together, but stuck watching over every new owner of the house, still never getting to experience a real life together. What a powerful concept! And I love the different interpretations available.