#somehow it is 513

[infiniteeight8]

Love your stories. Literal highlight of my days!!!

Prompt: “So what if you’re not my soulmate! I don’t care!”

Thanks so much! 😀

-

Stephen just stares when Tony pulls out the ring and asks the question. Tony’s nerves transmute into a terrible dread when the silence goes on and on and Stephen’s answer becomes clear. By the time he speaks, Tony is cold all over.

“Tony, I can’t,” Stephen says, quietly. He looks broken. Why does he look broken when Tony’s the one whose proposal just got turned down?

“Why not?” Tony asks desperately. “I love you. I know you love me. No one ever really made me believe they loved me before, but you did!”

Stephen closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, he only looks more determined. “Because I’m not your soulmate,” he says.

Tony surges up off his bent knee and stuffs the ring back in his pocket. “So what if you’re not my soulmate?! I don’t care!” 

“You’ll care when you meet them,” Stephen says, looking up at him from his seat on the couch. “Tony, somewhere out there is someone who is perfect for you. Someone who will make you happy like I never could. You deserve that.”

“Perfect for me.” Tony snorts. He paces for a moment and then stops in front of Stephen, jaw set. “I have the most famous soulmark in the world, right? You’ve seen the fakers. Everyone knows what it looks like.”

“They won’t all be fakers—”

“Yes or no!” Tony snaps. “Everyone knows what it looks like, right?”

Stephen frowns. “Right. Yes.”

“Which means that my soulmate knows that I’m their match,” Tony says. “They know I’m their match and they decided they didn’t want me. They didn’t want me before Afghanistan, they didn’t want me after, and they don’t want me now. And if they ever change their mind? I don’t care!” Tony realizes he’s shouting and stops, takes a breath. “Nothing they could say could ever make up for the fact that they chose not to be here when I needed them most. Like hell I’m going to let fate stick me with someone like that. I want someone who chose to be with me. I want someone who decided to be with me because they like me, not because some,” he flails for a word for a moment, “some fucking birthmark said they should be.”

Stephen is staring up at him. Hope surges in Tony’s chest. He drops into a crouch and takes Stephen’s hands in his. “You’re right for me because you’re blank,” he insists. “You picked me. Even when everyone told you it was a bad bet, you picked me. That’s what I want. I want us to choose each other, over and over again.”

Stephen is flushed now. His eyes are shining and… yes, Tony thinks that might be a smile. “Give me my ring,” Stephen says.

Tony blinks. “What?”

“You offered me a ring,” Stephen says. “Give it to me.”

Laughing, Tony fishes the ring out of his pocket again. “Is that a yes?”

Stephen beams when Tony slides the band onto his finger. “That’s a yes,” he confirms, and pulls Tony into a kiss.

[winchesterdreamgirl88]

His Sunshine

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: Bad writing

Summary: Draco is a cold, dark, brooding person who forgot what it was like to smile or feel happy. But Y/n is the biggest ray of sunshine ever, she always has a smile on her face and is always trying to make people feel better. What happens when they are forced to work on a project together?

Word Count:513

A/n: I feel like I could've written this so much better but I just couldn't find the right words. I really like the grumpy boy and sunshine girl trope it's one of my favorites. I feel like Draco is very misunderstood and honestly isn't a bad person he just didn't have anyone supporting him or helping him. So most of my stories about him may be different than the movies but it's how I envision him.

3rd Person POV

Draco used to be a happy kid in his first year at Hogwarts, but as the years went by he became less and less happy. He was under so much pressure from his father to follow in his footsteps and become a Death Eater and serve his families purpose. He forgot what it was like to feel happiness and joy.

But Y/n on the other hand was the complete opposite, she always had a smile on her face and she radiated happiness. Unfazed by the world's harshness, Y/n exuded an infectious joy that seemed to dance in the air around her. Her whimsical demeanor and dreamy gaze were as captivating as they were mystifying. But surprisingly Draco didn't hate her, and he had every reason to. She was a muggle born and a Gryffindor, there is no reason Draco should feel the way he feels about her. But when he sees her smile he can't help but want to know the reason for her smile, and he wanted to be the reason she smiled like that.

2nd Person POV

One snowy day Draco had woken up just like every morning; sad and alone. He walked his way to potions with Snape, not prepared for what the day had in store for him. Draco walked into class and sat down at his normal table ignoring the useless boring chatter coming from Crabbe and Goyle.

"Alright everyone, I am going to assign you partners and you need to have this done by the end of the class." Everyone groaned and waited to hear who they were going to be forced to work with. Draco has managed to turn out Snape so he was surprised when you suddenly appear next to him.

"Don't worry, let's try and get this done as quick as we can so you can resume your role as the curator of crankiness." You said trying to get some sort of reaction from Draco. But he was facing away from you can not talking. Unbeknownst to you Draco's lips quirked into the tiniest smile.

As the next few days went by you and Draco continued to be partners and work together in potions. Over time, Y/n's infectious happiness became a balm to Draco's brooding soul. You taught him to appreciate the beauty in the smallest moments and find joy even in the darkest corners. Y/n, in turn, discovered a depth and resilience in Draco that others seldom saw.

As the days turned into weeks, Draco found himself smiling more often, his scowl replaced by a softer expression. Your relentless optimism had worked its magic on him. In a quiet moment beneath the starlit sky, Draco took your hand and admitted, "You're infuriatingly happy, y/l/n, but somehow, I find myself drawn to it."

And so, the grumpy Slytherin and the happy dreamer forged an unlikely connection, proving that sometimes, love blooms in the most unexpected places even between a ray of sunshine and a grumpy man who just needed someone to show him the sunshine.

[lialox]

AU of the 1864th worldline, where they completed the Final Scenario but the only change is, Kim Dokja finished this conversation with Han Sooyoung. (ORV 513)

I spoke to Han Sooyoung. “They need to go back to their old lives.” “You think they’ll be happier like that?” “All stories are supposed to end that way.” “And since when did you start enjoying that sort of development?” Han Sooyoung shot back with a retort. “Hey, you. You aren’t thinking up of anything weird again, right? Are you hiding something from me again?” “I’d like to, but I’ve nothing to hide anymore.” I was being honest. Even the original novel never reached this far. It was the same story for the ‘Secretive Plotter’ or the other individuals from the 999th turn. We were the first to ride on this subway. I spoke up while looking at the end of the faintly-erased subway map. “Han Sooyoung, I think.....”

Han Sooyoung stared at me as my lips trembled in trying to finish my sentence.

-You have an idea of what's at the end of this line, don't you?

Her voice rang clear through Midday Tryst.

I didn't trust my voice to respond.

-I'm just saying, and this is just a what if...

Han Sooyoung continued to wait expectantly.

-What if the Oldest Dream is me?

Midday Tryst conveyed the words monotonously, and I pried my eyes away from her. She calmly replied.

-Why do you think that?

...Why did I think that?

In scrambling to make my thoughts coherent I came to a realization. No matter what reasons, no matter what theories I had, it wouldn't change the identity of the constellation we had to end.

I smiled jokingly at her and came up with a foolish reason.

-Come on, there was an alter ego of you, and an alter ego of Yoo Junghyuk, isn't it my turn to get a copy of myself?

Han Sooyoung didn't reply. Instead, she looked up towards someone else.

Yoo Junghyuk was glaring menacingly in my direction.

Right. He was a part of Midday Tryst too.

"We're getting off this subway," Yoo Junghyuk declared.

They somehow stop the subway.

There is nothing written beyond the Final Scenario so they start becoming Outer Gods.

There's still a final battle here because the 999th turn + SP is with them and they definitely wanted to meet the Oldest Dream.

(I mean power scale wise they'd lose, but there's gotta be some gimmick or plot armour that makes them survive)

After the fight they live on as Outer Gods outside the scenarios, live in a big house together, the end. :)

Well... not the end because its going to be angsty since their worldline got destroyed and KDJ is wracked with guilt. RIP Yoo Mia and KDJ's mom.

[web-novel-polls]

Favorite WN Quotes - Bonus: ORV

Quote 11: KDJ Crying

I didn’t cry. 「 Kim Dokja was crying. 」 - Kim Dokja & the Fourth Wall, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 180

Quote 37: Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World

「There are three ways to survive in a ruined world. I have forgotten some of them now. However, one thing is certain: you who are currently reading these words will survive.  –Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World [Complete]」 - Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 1

Quote 38: I Believe in You

"If hyung was such a person, you wouldn't have saved me on the subway. I believe in you.”  - Lee Gilyoung to Kim Dokja, Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint, Chapter 21 

Quote 39: Just Somehow Survive

"Survive and take responsibility! Atone for the rest of your life or live a garbage life. Just somehow survive!”  - Kim Dokja to Lee Jihye, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 40 

Quote 40: Wanted to Believe

"Still… if possible, I wanted to believe. I was able to come here because I believed in someone.”  - Yoo Sangah, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 46

Quote 41: Face the Wall

“I only believe in people with walls. In order to understand someone, I think I should face that wall first.” - Han Donghoon, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 60

Quote 42: Fuck capitalism fr

"Working up to build up history to become a constellation and then building up narratives to become narrative-grade constellations… then what? The higher the sky, the brighter the star? How long will you continue using the descendants of this land for your own sake?”  - Kim Dokja, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 72 

Quote 43: Won't Give Up So Easily

“–If I was going to give up so easily, I wouldn't have started this journey.” - Yoo Joonghyuk, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 82

Quote 44: No Sentences Describing These Deaths

“I had read all of Ways of Survival. I understood the settings, the meaning of the explanations and finally thought that I had figured out the author's intentions. But in Ways of Survival, there were no sentences describing these deaths.”  - Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 90

Quote 45: Loved by the Others

“I, someone of no redeeming quality, could be loved by the others.” - Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 513

Quote 46: Pound at the Walls

“Even if we can't reach each other, even if we can't meet each other, we should continue to pound away on each other's walls. Even if that wall would never open up, keep writing something on that wall, anyway.” - Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 538 

Quote 47: Most Proficient at Lying

“She wanted to tell him. Tell him that there was a world that didn't need his sacrifice to be saved. She thought that, if it was her, she should be able to do it.  Because she was most proficient at lying than anyone alive, after all.” - Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 539

[Propaganda below] - Spoilers Warning!

Quote 11: KDJ Crying

Submission: 

Kim Dokja, putting on clown makeup: "I didn't cry."  The narrative, immediately calling him out: HELLO???YOU'RE LITERALLY SOBBING.  Kim Dokja, getting louder, as circus music starts to play behind him: "I'm a reliable narrator!" All of Kim Dokja Company: staring immediately at the camera like they're on the office

Quote 39: Just Somehow Survive!

Just somehow survive!!!! You can’t atone through death!!! You just have to somehow survive!!!

Okay, serious talk, this quote makes me want to eat dirt due to Kim Dokja (insert spoilers here) saying it to Lee Jihye, a teenager, facing her trauma of killing her best friend in a life-or-death situation. Kim Dokja killing Kim Namwoon as a way of killing him younger self is OUT, Kim Dokja helping Lee Jihye as a way of helping his younger self is IN (/mainly joking)

[tevantarlos]

Queer as Folk Prompt Challenge 2024

33 prompts in 3 weeks.

Info/Rules:

Fics can be a drabble, ficlet, or one-shot. No chapter stories.

Any characters/couples are allowed, as long as both characters are 17+.

It's a challenge. However, if you can't or don't want to do all of the challenges for some reason, that's okay. Just list/label the ones you have done.

The QaF Prompt Challenge 2024 runs from 7/1/24 - 7/21/24. It ends Monday, July 22nd, Midnight CST and I'll be closing the collection to works at that time.

A03 Collection: QaF Prompt Challenge 2024.

Any questions or comments, reach out to: @Chenford'sRollisi

Prompts: 33

1. Cuddle 2. Sweat 3. "Good morning, Sunshine."    4. Loss of Debbie. 5. Brian comforts Justin after Jennifer dies. 6. It seemed like a good idea at the time. 7. The first time Brian and Justin see each other after 513. 8. Barebacking/commitment. 9. Sex in the rain. 10. Follow-up to popular story you've already written. 11. Ben/Justin fic 12. Brian/Ben fic 13. Sharing a cigarette. 14. Hug. 15. Drunk dialing after breakup. 16. Wearing the other's clothes. ("Are you wearing my shirt?") 17. Getting arrested. 18. Use of handcuffs/Loss of handcuff keys during sex. 19. Hogging the blankets. 20. Couch sex quickie. (Someone's coming over.) 21. Broken arm. 22. Broken leg. 23. Broken nose. 24. Bloody nose. 25. Brian's jeep gets stolen. 26. Brian needs to get glasses. 27. Justin considers getting his ear pierced. Brian tells him not to do it. 28. Moving Day - Brian moves to New York and moves in with Justin.    29. Jealousy 30. Interrupting Justin painting, for sex. (Bonus points if you include the paint in the sex somehow, but not required.) 31. Dancing. At home, in private. 32. Picnic. 33. Kissing in the rain.

[riddle-me-ri]

Congratulations to 500 subscribers ^^ You're a good person, and you write well too. Can I ask "Sharing a Bath" and Batman the Animated Series Johnny?

A/N: aww thank you so much anon! I appreciate that! And aww that’s such a cute idea, of course you can! I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 513

BTAS Scarecrow - Sharing a Shower

Jonathan really didn’t deem it necessary for you two to share a shower. Not that he didn’t…find the idea…appealing. He’s just, well, you should know, he’s still fairly new to being close and vulnerable with someone. 

Until one day, you invited him once more like you normally do whenever you said you were taking a shower. Somehow, he found the courage to say yes, but was still hesitant on going through with it. 

You knew this was all new territory for Jonathan, and that it wasn’t because he lacked interest or didn’t find you attractive. The man just didn’t know what to do or how to respond to this, and you had no problem showing him the ropes. 

Once you two were under the warm spray, there seemed to be no turning back. 

You giggled as Jonathan got some water on his face. You grabbed his arms and gently turned him around so the brunt of the spray was going down your back. 

"There, is that better?" 

"M-Much. Thank you." 

"Of course, Jonny." 

"So…this can go two ways, whichever you prefer. We could wash ourselves simultaneously or each other…" 

Jonathan gulped at that last option. He wouldn't mind it… 

"Actually, I have a better idea." You grabbed a bottle of shampoo and poured some into your hands before lathering your head. 

"We can wash our hair by ourselves and then wash each other afterwards. If you're comfortable with that." 

Jonathan could only bring himself to nod. 

You smiled brightly. "Perfect!"

You both began scrubbing your hair. Jonathan every once in a while stealing glances at you. Your hands on your head made your body stretch and open more. The way the water cascaded down your body and skin. 

Between the water, your nudity, and the rising steam you looked like some ethereal mythical being. 

Jonathan tried to snap out of it and quickly finish his hair, but he found it hard to pull you away from under the shower in order to rinse his hair. 

When it came to washing each other, you noticed Jonathan's hesitancy right away. Silently, it was decided you would wash him first. 

As you lathered the soap into the bath sponge, and you began scrubbing his body, covering it with suds…Jonathan was in awe. 

In awe of you, how despite all the atrocities he committed (or planned to anyway), despite who he is and continues to be. You continue to treat him with such kind, unconditional affection. 

He knew he likely didn’t deserve such adoring treatment, but if him reveling in it made him selfish. 

Then he was absolutely guilty with no contest. 

The fact that you were smiling, happily, comfortable in his presence alone. 

Jonathan Crane thought he knew what true pleasure was; when he tormented others and reduced them to quivering terrified masses, screaming before him…

Yet right now, with you so close, so sweet and so tender. Jonathan slowly realizes just how wrong he was. 

For all the fear he could cause in the world, nothing could come close to when you smiled at him.

[qqtxt]

Reader going on dates with Kai and at the end of the last date they ask "do you still want me as your partner?"

Love your works btw🤌❤️🥹

this immediately tugged on my heartstrings and i just know kai is a soft, soft bean that will try to reassure his partner in any way :") i didn't dive into it too much but i just wanted to write it out somehow. here it is! (and thank you lovely!!!)

[🐧] love you (of course i do)

✿ pairing: kai x reader / non.idol!au / fluff, comfort 🌸 / reader feels insecure / word count: 513 words ✿ in a moment where you doubt yourself as his partner, he reassures you in the simplest (and most effective) way. [masterlist 🌸]

every day (any day), every moment, every second you spend with kai, the more you realise there's more to love about him. there's something new that surprises you. there's a new trait you come to learn about him or something silly that he reveals most charmingly. his way. through it all, there are days where the thoughts seem to seep into your mind of why someone as perfect as him decided to be with someone like you?

it wasn't healthy. it wasn't the prettiest. you know when these intrusive thoughts are getting the best of you, the best of him–us–when it comes uninvited to one of the dates you share with him. the long day nearly comes to an end as kai holds onto your hand, taking a quiet stroll of walking you back home.

kai only brings up that he notices how it's affecting your mood past the dingy lamp post that flickers with uncertainty. him tugging you to sit on the bench you two almost walk past that he makes you come around. when you thought all he wanted was to rest his feet, it seems like his intentions come clear as the light shines upon your surprise.

"is something bothering you?"

just like that. he takes your heart again. how effortlessly he was able to notice the way your lip doesn't smile all the way up. or how clammy your hand got just thinking about bringing up what's on your mind. or how he was able to tell from the moment he saw your face this morning, something was fogging your mind from enjoying your date out.

"do... do you still want me?"

with one sentence, kai's able to autofill the doubts and worries that cloud your mind. he knows. you know he knows when his features shift from smiling fondly to having this pained look on his face. he knows. his line of work meant that he was surrounded by gorgeous, beautiful people in a mile-long line. he knows you know that. and he knows how that makes you feel.

he knows he'll coax you to talk more about this so that he can reassure you of every single worry that you might have. but for now, under the flickering light that barely maintained its power, it managed to shine the brightest as kai shifts closer and cupped your hand in his, tugging you closer towards him. with a smile that manages to set the crooked scars of uncertainty in your chest straight, kai's words are an emblem that rings in your ears each time the doubts start to linger.

"always," he nods once, "i'll always want you."

maybe it was the simplicity. or the sincerity in his voice. in reality, it was just him altogether. how he didn't hesitate to say what he said. how he didn't miss a beat the second you said something seemingly ambiguous that he was able to fill the cracks into what you were feeling. he said so much without saying much at all and that... that was all you needed to hear.

[reveriealm]

Where The Shadows Fade ft. Jeon Wonwoo x Fem!

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x Fem! ft. Lee Jihoon

Rating: Explicit content ahead; minors are not permitted to engage with this material, and any underage readers found interacting with it will be immediately blocked.

Warning: Alcohol, 18+, Smut, Protected Sex, Sex in a Car, Fingering

Word count: 2,530

Disclaimer: The members of Seventeen are referenced only as name and face stand-ins, with all storylines, settings, and character portrayals being fictional.

A/N: Shoutout to @hoshykitty and @lilyoffwhite for being my beta reading and personal cheerleaders <3

This wasn’t the first time Jihoon had walked away from you; in fact, he often opted to end things whenever he sensed you wasn’t catering to his needs. He pressured me, fully aware that you'd never truly want to end things. Even if you were determined to end it, it would hardly be a challenge for him to travel 513 kilometers just to reach you in no time. And yet again, you'd find myself entangled beneath him, lost in the sheets. This undending cycle of desire and despair felt inescapeable, each round pulling me deeper into the same old routine.

But this time, you were determined to break free. You were fed up with it all. So, you drowned your sorrows at the bar, surrounded by bottles and bodies—three things he despises—you intentionally turned on your location tracker to aid in your escape from him, knowing he couldn’t stand the thought of sharing you with anyone else, he held tight to his facade of purity, blind to his own hypocrisy.

As you poured my frustrations into a drink, a man approached you.

“Dancing’s not your thing, huh?", he asked, settling beside you, his cologne curling through the air and teasing your senses. He smelled good—no, good is such an understatement. So good, that you suddenly wanted to press your face against his chest and lose yourself in him.

When you finally looked up, oh God, it looked like Aphrodite had taken her time crafting his face. And you? You must’ve shared her taste, because you couldn’t resist him—especially when he's wearing glasses and smelled like pure temptation.

And you gave in to the temptation, because before you realized it, your hand was on his cheek.

“You’re warm,” you murmured, feeling a flush rush through your body.

He chuckled softly, taking your hand in his, his touch somehow even warmer.

“You’re the one who’s cold, silly," he said with a grin. "Oops, my bad—I don’t even know your name, yet I’m already calling you stupid,” he said.

You, quickly pulled your hands back (though part of you regretted it the moment you did). You extended one for a proper shake.

“I’m Y/n,” you said, hoping your smile would win him over, “And you?”

He smiled—one of those smiles that could easily win anyone over.

“I’m Wonwoo.”

“And I’m guessing dancing’s not your thing either, Won.”

“Actually, bar isn’t my thing,” he admitted, looking a little sheepish. “My friend dragged me here.”

“That’s funny, 'cause I’m the one who dragged my friends to come here,” you said with a grin.

“That’s not surprising,” he said with a smirk.

“Should I be offended?” you raised an eyebrow.

“No, not at all. It’s just—you seem like a natural. You’ve been pouring out vanilla vodka all night long, while your friends are out there dancing as if Jesus isn’t in the room,” he teased.

You leaned in, intrigued. “How long have you been watching me, Won?” you asked playfully.

He burst out laughing. “Watching you? My table’s right across from yours—it’s kinda hard not to notice, Y/n.”

“So, what do you think of me?” you pressed, giving him a mischievous grin.

He paused for a moment, eyes searching mine. “I think, you’ve been trying to fill a void.”

You grinned wider. “Just that?”

“Just that—unless you want me to say something else,” he said, his voice dropping slightly.

“Like what?” you asked, leaning in closer.

“Like maybe, you’ve been waiting for someone to keep you company.”

“Company’s nice—,” you let the words hang in the air.

“But?” he asked, sensing there was more.

“But, I’d prefer something more,” you replied, locking eyes with him.

His expression shifted—surprised, but quickly composed. Before he could respond, you leaned in and kissed him, just briefly, but enough to feel the warmth of his lips. They were soft, even though the kiss was quick, it lingered. He cleared his throat, clearly a little taken aback but trying to stay cool.

"Are you sure that's enough, Y/n?" Owen asked, removing his glasses and placing them beside mine. His hand gently cupped your cheek, the warmth of his touch a sharp contrast to the chill in the air. His other arm slipped around your waist, pulling you closer. Caught off guard by his boldness, you instinctively grabbed his shoulder to steady yourself. You were so close, you could practically taste his cologne.

"I'll kiss it better for you, Y/n," he whispered, then leaned in to kiss you again, softer this time. The kiss deepened, and you felt you melt into him touch, light-headed from the intensity. His hands wandered down your body as your fingers tangled his hair, trailing down to his neck. When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, my cheeks flushed and burning. You felt like you were one step closer to breaking free.

You looked up at him, still lost in the moment, desire lingering in my gaze. He noticed, his eyes meeting yours.

"Want to continue in my car?" he asked, a grin tugging his lips.

You couldn't help but smile at the suggestion.

You'd said I wanted to drown in bodies, but now, sitting in a car with a man you barely knew, an uncomfortable wave of guilt settled in your gut, as if you were cheating on Jihoon. Yet, as you sat there, one thing was clear—Wonwoo looked ten times better under the soft, dim glow of the car lights.

A part of you were panicking—half because of your guilt and half because this was your first time doing it with someone other than Jihoon, your ex—but all you could focus on was how effortlessly Wonwoo maneuvered you onto his lap. He ruined your satin skirt; it had a slit, but he tore it, making the slit even higher.

"Oops, sorry", he said, but his tone made it clear he wasn't sorry at all. His fingers traced along the torn fabric, sending shivers down to your spine.

Then he pulled you closer, his hand cradling your face as he kissed you, his lips moving smoothly against yours. His tongue pressed for entrance, and you gave in immediately, your lips parting as his fingers slipped beneath your satin top, exploring.

Without a word, Wonwoo started to strip, tossing his clothes aside carelessly. When he was down to nothing, You found yourself staring. You'd noticed his broad shoulders before, but you hadn't expected the rest of him to be this fit—muscles rippling beneath his loose t-shirt. You thought he'd be the type to spend his time gaming at home, not working out (not judging but that’s just how he looks).

Wonwoo's lips found your neck, and he started to kiss it, clearly wanting to leave a mark. With the remaining consciousness you still had, you mumbled, "Not there, Won, I have class, you can leave mark further down".

Wonwoo smirked and nodded, then he helped me to strip off my clothes. Wonwoo kissed his way from your neck to your chest, looking up at you for permission before unclasping your bra. You nodded, and he quickly took it off, but his hand hovering, as if waiting for further permission. So, you grabbed his hand and dragged them to your nips, and once he touched you, there was no stopping him.

He kissed you again, his fingers teasing my nipples. You wanted to moan, but his lips silenced you. The frustration started to build, and you fought the urge to guide his hand between your legs, knowing he'd get there eventually. But patience has never been your companion, so you tugged his hand down.

Wonwoo took my hand gently and kissing it slowly. "I don't understand what you want if you don't tell me, my pretty Y/n." His words were teasing and you nearly cried in frustration. Your lust was too overwhelming to play games, but you hated voicing what you wanted—it felt too raw, too lewd. So, the only you could say was, "Wonwoo, please".

“Please what pretty, Y/n? You have to say it clearly” he said, voice dripping with mischief. You hadn't realize he was such a teaser.

"Please—please, make me feel good, Won," You begged, feeling utterly desperate for his touch.

“You're such a good girl, Y/n,” he murmured, then urged you to turn your back to him. You hated this position—being unable to see his face. You whined and whined even more, but Wonwoo was ruthless, because as if turning you away weren't enough for him, he even forced you to look at your messy reflection in his rear-view mirror, which another thing you hate because you looked helpless under his charm.

"Shh, pretty Y/n, I'll make you feel good, I promise", he whispered, kissing the back of your neck.

“Good girl, so wet for me”, he said—oh, he had no idea what those words did to me. Each time he called me a good girl, you could feel the effect deep inside, wetness pooling in response.

"Won—woo", you whimpered his name, instantly regretting it because it only made him thrust his fingers even deeper, hitting every spot with precision.

“Should I stop, Y/n?”, he asked, smugness lacing his tone. You shook your head, desperate.

“With words, Y/n."

“No, you’re perfect”, You gasped. Perfect face, perfect body, perfect performance.

You're near, the heat spreading throughout your body. Your vision whites out, white noise filled your ears, and your body quivered as he kept thrusting his fingers deeper while playing with your nips.

“Wonwoo—stop,” you pleaded weakly, but he didn’t listen. Your legs shook violently as you struggled to close them, but he held them apart with one hand (his gym routine definitely giving him the strength to keep you open while he pushed you over the edge).

Then he effortlessly turned you to face him again, his arms wrapping around you as you collapsed against him, your head resting on his shoulder while you caught your breath. He kept whispering how good you were, but you could barely hear him over the white noise ringing in your ears. He held you close, kissing the top of your head, providing comfort until your energy began to return.

And when it did, you couldn't resist anymore. He looked to damn good beneath you, covered in your sweat. So, you brushed off the sweat that was on his face and kissed him again.

The kiss was rushed, almost frantic, like you both needed more—your tongues tangled in a messy, desperate rhythm. Without pulling away, your hand found its way down to his trousers, and you could feel how hard he was through the fabric. You unbuttoned his pants and slid the zipper down, while Wonwoo tugged off his boxers, revealing how big he was.

"I don’t think I can handle this, Won," you murmured, feeling a bit anxious.

He smirked, his lips brushing against yours, "You can handle me just fine, my pretty Y/n."

His kiss was gentle, intended to soothe you as he guided your hand to wrap around him. "But if you think you can't, that’s perfectly okay too. We can stop right here."

That small act of tenderness stirred something deep within you—it was genuine, unlike anything you'd felt with Jihoon.

“No, I don’t want to stop, Won,” you murmured.

He gently held your face, his eyes searching mine. “Are you sure, Y/n?”

“One hundred percent sure,” you replied, meeting his eyes before leaning in to kiss him softly.

Wonwoo reached for the condom he had stashed in the car, and you helped him slide it on. Then, in one swift motion, he lifted you up, positioning you over him as he slowly thrust into you. He was careful, letting me adjust at my own pace, all while kissing you, his lips soft but deliberate. When he was fully inside, he paused, waiting for you to start moving.

Once you got used to the fullness, you began rocking your hips, slowly at first, then faster, until you were riding him with a rhythm that sent moans spilling from both of us. "Fuck," he muttered, biting his lips to hold back a louder sound.

Wonwoo gripped your hips, helping you move faster. "God, you're so good, Y/n," His voice was rough, each grunt and curse a testament to how deep you had him. His hands were everywhere—squeezing your ass, guiding your hips—and each thrust hit something deeper, a spot inside me no one had ever touched before.

"I want you under me," he said, flipping you over in one quick movement. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in as your arms draped over his shoulders. The new position was better, deeper, and you could barely hold back the moan that escaped you.

"Won, I’m close," you panted, gripping him tighter.

"Fuck, you're tight—I'm close too, Y/n." His breath was hot against your neck, his lips marking you. You gasped, closing my eyes, you remember the class in the morning, but couldn’t bring myself to stop him.

He pulled away from your neck, wrapping his hand around your throat instead. "Look at me," he commanded softly, his grip firm but careful.

You forced your eyes open, gasping as he tightened his hold just enough to heighten the sensation. You were so close, teetering on the edge. Your vision blurred as my body tightened around him. If it weren't for his hand around your throat, you're one hundred percent sure the security guard would've heard your cries by now.

He pulled out, tied the condom on and threw it in the trash. He flipped you over again, and this time letting you bury your face in his chest, just like what you'd wanted from the beginning. As you both lay there in the afterglow, he wrapped you closer, as if you had any space before. "I know we should clean up, but let me hold you for a second, okay?".

"Okay", you murmured, letting the warmth of his body soothe you.

“Was it okay for you?” Wonwoo asked, his voice soft, a hint of concern behind it.

You sat up slightly, looking down at him with a smile. “I guess, it was more than okay.” You leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose.

He chuckled, his hand brushing a few loose strands of hair from your face before kissing you gently, like he was trying to hold onto the moment a little longer.

“So, when can I see you again?” he asked, his eyes locking onto mine.

You hadn’t expected this from a one-night stand partner—the lingering tenderness in his touch, the way he softly whispered, “Let me see you again,” as he planted gentle kisses across your face. It stirred something in me, something that left me feeling valued, unlike how Jihoon always had.

How you wish this were a fairytale, with him as the prince charming who came to rescue you, bringing light where shadows would finally fade away.

[superman86to99]

Adventures of Superman #513 (June 1994)

"THE BATTLE FOR METROPOLIS," Part 4! The Death of Project Cadmus! (Well, "death" in comic book terms.) After the events of last issue, in which a bunch of Cadmus-brand rockets exploded all around Metropolis, a royally pissed-off Superman heads to the formerly top secret government installation to register his displeasure with Director Westfield... only to find out that someone beat him to it, because Westfield has been murdered.

Since Cadmus' top dorks don't have much experience shouting orders at soldiers (the guy in charge of that just died), Superman steps in to fill that role while they try to figure out who killed Westfield and where his ear went.

Given that Cadmus' other, nerdier directors have spent days in a probably very stinky lab trying to come up with a cure for the Clone Plague ravaging Metropolis (and a small part of Hawaii), the main suspect for Westfield's murder is Dr. Carl Packard, a nervous little guy who tends to disappear for days. Also, he was just found wandering the hallways muttering about someone who "deserves death," so that doesn't look too good for him. Before Packard can explain himself (he was talking about his other evil boss, Lex Luthor), the whole murder mystery matter is shuffled aside when the nerds actually find the key to curing the Plague: the blood of one of the few clones who didn't get sick, the Guardian! Hope he's got a lot of it.

As it turns out, they need Packard to create that Guardian-fueled cure, so everyone agrees to forget about the fact that he's probably a murderer for a while. As soon as they let Packard near a computer, however, he uses the secret program in all LexCorp PCs that notifies Lex if someone types his name (yes, Lex was the original "searches himself on Twitter all day" billionaire) to send him a message telling him about the cure. Instead of letting Packard cook and then stealing the cure, the Plague-stricken and increasingly insane Lex orders his Lex-Men to invade Cadmus and kidnap the Guardian. To be fair, he does look like he's about 15 seconds away from shriveling up into a prune, so I get the urgency.

So, Superman and the few Cadmus soldiers in there (most are out fighting angry clones in Metropolis) have to defend the facility from an army of flying armored goons while the nerds try to work on the cure. Lex uses a hologram of himself when he still had hair to try to convince Superman that he should let Superboy, the Newboy Legion kids, and all those sewer clones die so that Lex himself can live ("Would you let Einstein die to save the Bowery Boys?"), but somehow he isn't dissuaded. Not only that, but Superman even calls Lex "contemptible"... and, uh, everyone else who uses a wig.

Lex must have really hated that crack about his baldness, because the next thing he does is order the Lex-Men to blow up Cadmus' reactor and kill everyone inside. If he can't have the cure, no one can. Superman looks a bit overwhelmed with the soon-to-explode reactor and the Lex-Men trying to stop him from containing it (so much so that he calls them "idiots," about the strongest insult you'll hear from this Superman), but then someone stops by to help him: patient zero of the Clone Plague cure...

...Superboy! Who could barely stand up the last time we saw him and is now flying and punching goons, so looks like that cure is working. Superman tells the Kid to take those goons outside while he tries to prevent the reactor from exploding, but as soon as Superboy makes it out, there's a huge explosion and the mountain surrounding Cadmus collapses. Superboy wants to start digging up the survivors, but Superman tells him not to bother: everyone is dead. And he'll make Luthor pay for this and all his other sins, once and for all... next week, in Action Comics #700!

TO BE CONCLUDED, obviously.

Plotline-Watch:

That's it for Project Cadmus, and everyone who worked in it, which will never appear ag-- ok, no one actually believes that. We'll see how they saved themselves and why Superman is pretending they died next issue. Note, however, that Superboy isn't pretending to believe that some of his best friends are buried under a mountain, so his chipperness in that final panel is disturbing.

As you've probably guessed if you've been paying attention, the one who stole Westfield's ear was the same maniac who killed him, disgraced geneticist Dabney Donovan. I don't remember if Dabney ever used Westfield's ear in one of his experiments, but even if he didn't, at least he got to use it for a couple of corny jokes.

Poor Dr. Happersen... he's trying to tell his boss he loves him and would never betray him, and Lex cuts him off and yells at him. Plus, in the same page Lex made it clear that he still isn't totally convinced Happersen isn't Lois Lane's informant, even thought it obviously isn't him. It's hard not to read that exchange with Smithers' and Mr. Burns' voices.

There's a nice little moment with the Guardian, originally a Captain America self-ripoff by Cap creators Joe Simon and Jack Kirby, saying he's okay with dying to make the cure because he's lived a very long life. Lines like that work better when it's a character who's actually been around since the '40s. I wouldn't have minded if he had died during this storyline -- they could always make another clone later on (and seeing him struggle to live up to his own legacy might have been interesting).

Patreon-Watch:

The latest Patreon-only post was about an Elseworlds story where Superman turns into a cursed spirit haunting a villain, one where he turns the X-Men into the JLA, and (briefly) one where Bizarro teams up with every other DC villain whose name ends in "O." Join Aaron, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Kit, Sam, Bol, and Gaetano Barreca at the Superman '86 to '99 Patreon!

And now, more from Don Sparrow (whose newsletter you should be subscribed to, by the way)...

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

We start with the cover, and it’s a pretty good one, with co-star Guardian in well-drawn technological peril, and I never tire of blasts bouncing off Superman. 

Inside the book we are greeted with a poster (or at least sticker) worthy image of an on-edge Superman flying at the viewer, his Tarzan-like mane flowing in the wind.

Kitson’s art at this time is a bit strange to me—it might be the inker, or more likely it’s the era—the early 90s demanded everything be a bit more exxxxxxtreme and Jim-Lee-like in its rendering, but it mostly seems at odds with Kitson’s naturalistic drawing style.  So you get weird in-between drawings, like on page 2 where Superman is yelling, but his mouth appears to barely be open (as opposed to page 5, when Dr. Packard shouts in surprise, and his mouth appears to be fully extended). 

A page later Superman’s surprise (and perhaps grief?) at Westfield’s death is captured well. 

On page 4, the fun really begins, as Kitson seems to really have a ball drawing the insane and Dr. Robotnik-like Dabney Donovan, and his comedic use of a stolen body part. 

A small thing, but worth mentioning: Kitson and McCarthy absolutely kill it when it comes to reflective surfaces.  Throughout the issue, the shiny glasses are on point.  Great stuff there, particularly with the two-tone colouring of a Lex-Men soldier on page 16.

On page 10 we get our latest look at Lex Luthor, and it ain’t pretty.  The little lines on his flesh make it seem so fragile and sickly. 

The full page splash of Cadmus mountain imploding seems like a bit of a missed opportunity, as Superboy isn’t really facing the “camera” and the destruction is mostly dust.  Finally, on page 21, the drawing of Superman’s righteous anger at Lex wreaking death and destruction is a great one.

In contrast to Superman #90, where I felt not a lot happened, this issue is chock full of activity, with a race against the clock to find a cure for the clone sickness, Lex-Men invaders, and a core meltdown, plus a little pop-in with Dabney AND a Superboy cameo—it’s a big one, and a nice hors d’oeuvres for the very BIG number coming next week. 

SPEEDING BULLETS:

I think Dr. Packard should be played by Micro Machines Motormouth, John Moschitta Jr.  It would certainly make his scientific explanations a lot funnier to imagine them being said at lightspeed.

Superboy makes a reference to a Nancy Kerrigan commercial, which was probably this one for Campbell’s Chicken noodle, where the otherwise waify and demure Ms. Kerrigan bodychecks a hockey player (the Campbell’s slogan, at the time, was “Never Underestimate the Power of Soup”, which is the line that gets cut off as Superboy speaks). [Max: Fun fact, in the Spanish version I read in the '90s, Superboy just says "I learned this from a TV ad." Guess they didn't have space for a footnote explaining who Nancy Kerrigan was...]

GODWATCH: Interesting that Big Words seems to be a believer, as Guardian bravely takes the experimental treatment, the man of science prays that Jim Harper has a “personal guardian”.  

This is a pretty testosterone-driven issue—I can’t remember off-hand another issue that had not a single female appear in the story. [Max: There IS a female Cadmus trooper in page 1, but she doesn't speak, unless she's supposed to be yelling "SSSSHHOOOOOOM!" as Superman flies by... which I'd totally do.]

[byunbhyunz]

Lucas - “I’m going to marry you one day.”

Pairing: Lucas/Reader

Genre: fluff, boyfriend!Lucas

Word count: 513

Prompt: “I’m going to marry you one day.”

One thing’s for sure, Lucas tended to talk big. And liked too. Occasionally, he said unbelievable things without even noticing it himself.

That’s why you learned to not really give it more than a few thoughts when he did so. Whenever he talked big about something, you just reassured him you were paying attention to his words, then in the next hour you forgot about it overall.

But not with his favorite saying as of lately. It was as if he deliberately repeated himself to make sure you couldn’t forget about his words. They were always the same, and came at totally random times. Like when you helped him with remembering a word in Korean he forgot for a second. Or when you cooked his favorite Chinese dish and brought it to him to the dorms. Or that one time you defended him against the teasing of the maknae-line of his group, even though he was fine without your help too.

“I’m going to marry you one day,” he recited it with a soft look on his face, then went on continuing what he was doing beforehand after giving you a peck on the lips or cheeks.

He dropped it casually, but to you, it felt like a bomb had been thrown at you and exploded right in front of your eyes. You were fine with his sentiments most of the time, but this one somehow didn’t sit well with you. Talking big about challenges was one thing, but doing it with your feelings involved was an entirely different story for you.

So you went ahead, blurted it out one time when he brought up marriage again.

“You shouldn’t drop getting married so lazily into conversations, Yukhei,” you told him with a slight scowl on your face. Upon seeing your expression and sensing the seriousness in your voice, the smile fell from his lips, being replaced with a pout.

“But I mean it. We will get famous worldwide with the boys, then we’re going to settle and get married, and have kids together. Two boys and a girl. Or three boys and a girl.”

The look in his eyes was sincere and thoughtful. As if he already figured out your future life together, but somehow he forgot to mention it to you. You couldn’t fight back the smile that tugged on your lips, and as your eyes met, he smiled back at you.

“Next time you should let me know about things like that, too. It would be nice to know what you plan for us when I’m part of it,” you scolded him halfheartedly. Your arms were reaching out for him, the warmth in your heart making you crave for his bear-like hugs.

“I thought it was obvious. And you never denied when I mentioned it.”

“Of course you thought.” Patting his back, you nuzzled your face into his chest, inhaling his scent deeply, so maybe it will give you enough energy for the rest of your day. And even if it didn’t, the way he painted your future together certainly did.

[idolumz]

𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐁𝐇𝐀𝐍.            ⇀            love's    out    there,        +        i    can't    leave    it    be.

༊*·˚࿐　　　　✞　　　　𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁    𝙾𝙽𝙴,        or:        overview.

full    name.        siobhan.     age.        physically    twenty9        /        actually    513. date    +    place    of    birth.        february    18th,    1481        ;        dublin,    ireland. species.        vampire. nationality.        irish. gender.        cis    woman. pronouns.        she/her. orientations.        biromantic    bisexual. loyalties.        the    irish    coven.

notable    family.        liam,    fiancé.    maggie,    adopted    daughter    /    sister.

༊*·˚࿐　　　　✞　　　　𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁    𝚃𝚆𝙾,        or:        biographical.

eldest    daughter,    only    daughter        /        she’s    born    on    the    outskirts    of    dublin,        +        as    far    as    anybody    is    concerned,    she    died    there    at    the    age    of    twenty    -    nine.        (        for    years,    she’ll    think    of    what    happened    as    a    fate    far    worse,    something    she    wouldn’t    wish    on    her    worst    enemy.    beautiful    things    come    from    hardship,    sure,    but    nobody    should    have    to    go    through    all    of    that    shit.        )        regardless        —        siobhan    is    the    only    child    of    a    local    blacksmith,    riyan,        +        his    wife,    majella.    

she    doesn’t    remember    much    of    her    childhood,    given    the    sheer    depth        &        breadth    of    time    that’s    passed            —            what    she    does    recall,    though,    is    done    so    fondly.    her    father    was    quiet,    with    callused    hands        +        a    soft    smile    that    always    began    at    the    crinkling    skin    near    his    eyes.    her    mother,    she    smelled    of    a    certain    sweetness    that    in    all    this    time,    she’s    never    been    able    to    find    again.        (        they    were    good    people,    this    much    she    knows    as    stone    -    cold    fact.    they    were    good        …        +        so    was    she,    once    upon    a    time.    all    those    moons    ago,    huh        ?        )

riyan        +        marjella    aren’t    destined    for    sons,    or    any    more    daughters        /        no,    they    get    the    one            —            headstrong,    opinionated,    born    so    far    beyond    her    time        !        there’s    no    taming    a    woman    like    siobhan,    that    much    is    clear    from    an    early    age        …        always    more    at    home    near    her    father’s    forge    than    anywhere    else,    she’s    a    keen    observer    of    his    craft.    she    watches    how    he    makes    metal    sing,    turns    it    into    something    exquisite        ;        her    mother,    of    course,    would    rather    have    her    helping    about    the    home    but    there’s    no    telling    siobhan    what    to    do.    she    finds    utmost    contentment    in    watching,    asking    her    father    questions,    relishing    in    the    moments    when    he    asks    for    her    help.

she    grows,        +        she    doesn’t    seem    to    stop.    tall        +        devastating,    there’s    something    of    the    evelyn    hugo    about    her            —            preternaturally    beautiful,    unique    essence    that’s    incredibly    hard    to    replicate.    boys        +        men    alike    in    town    are    somehow    both    reviled        +        intrigued    by    her,    with    her    rough    tongue        /        strength    unlike    any    seen    before        /        piercing    gaze,    slightest    quirk    of    her    mouth    in    a    smirk    that    makes    you    feel    like    she’s    playing    a    joke    on    you,        +        you’re    well    out    of    the    loop.

she’s    seventeen    when    it    happens,    when    riyan    dies    in    a    tragic    accident.    she’s    lucky    enough    to    be    well    away    from    the    forge,    to    hear    of    it    rather    than    see    it        /        to    mourn    it,    rather    than    be    scarred    by    it.    gaping    wound    of    it    all    is    felt    to    the    bone,    especially    when    her    mother    stares    stricken    at    his    forge            —            family    income    depends    on    its    operation,    on    someone    stoking    a    fire        &        making    magic    from    scraps.    bless    her    heart,    majella’s    too    delicate    for    the    work        …        +        so    it    goes    untouched    for    a    week,    cold,    formidable.    neither    of    them    can    dare    to    look    at    it        ;        majella    is    the    one    to    delicately    broach    the    topic    of    selling    it,    finding    money    somewhere    else.

oh,    but    she’s    spent    years    watching        /        waiting        /        helping,    she    knows    how    to    work    the    entire    damn    thing    better    than    any    man    in    the    fuckin’    town.    something    of    a    birthright    takes    proper    shape    when    she    steps    up        …        christ,    she’s    good    at    what    she    does.        (        knows    it,    too,    just    how    brilliant    she    is.    every    day,    as    sweat    beads    on    her    brow        +        hands    roughen    exponentially        )        curious,    how    business    seems    to    BOOM    twice    as    hard    when    daughter    takes    over    father’s    mantel,    carries    on    a    legacy    that    was    never    intended    to    be    cut    quite    as    short    as    it    was.

there    are    good    things,        +        bad    things,    about    being    the    kind    of    woman    with    a    reputation.    it    keeps    her    family    well    fed        /        it    draws    attention,    whether    she    wants    it    or    not.    case    in    point:        it’s    a    cold,    sunny    day    when    he    rolls    into    town,    slick        +        effortlessly    charming.    he    makes    no    effort    to    disguise    the    way    he    glances    at    her,    sleeves    rolled    up        +        mouth    alight    with    overworked    unkindness.            (            “are    ye’    goin’    to    stand    around    all    feckin’    day,    or    are    ye’    goin’    t’buy    somethin’?”            )            oh,    if    only    it    scared    him    off            …            rather,    resistance    incites    him    to    what    comes    next.

(            he    does    it    in    the    middle    of    the    night,    the    coward.    sneaks    in    through    an    open    window,    steals    her    out    of    her    bed.    all    manner    of    horrors,    does    he    inflict    on    her,        +        biting    her    is    somehow    the    best    of    them.            )

killing    him,        +        his    cronies,    is    a    goddamned    delight.        (        she’s    always    been    strong,    but    never    like    this        …        so    unquenchable,    nothing    tires    her        /        nothing    stops    her,    not    even    the    feverish    hunger    that    sancar    had    tried    so    fruitlessly    to    keep    up    with.        )        not    even    six    months    old    when    she    takes    her    vengeance        /        when    taylor    swift    wrote,    give    me    back    my    girlhood,    it    was    mine    first            …            same    feeling    as    the    adrenaline    that    courses    so    swiftly    through    her    veins    as    she    dispatches    of    the    fuckin’    abomination    that    stole    hers.

returning    to    dublin    is    too    hard,    too    much    of    a    red    -    raw    ache        ;        instead,    she    travels.    europe    is    vast,        +        she    has    all    the    time    in    the    world.    a    brief    stint    in    england,    one    in    france        /        a    longer    stay    in    italy,    nearly    a    year,    where    she    picks    at    the    volturi    in    an    attempt    to    wrap    her    head    around    their    impossible    gifts,    their    laws    constructed    out    of    thin    air.        (        never    once    does    she    consider    that    she    might    possess    her    own,    that    there    are    forces    beyond    her    control    but    not    out    of    her    manipulation.        )

it    takes    years,    to    muster    up    the    courage    to    return    home        ;        it’s    with    a    quiet,    determined    wish    that    she    does.        (        ethel    cain    had    it    right:        love’s    out    there,        +        she    can’t    leave    it    be.        )        it    takes    approximately    two    months    to    find    him,    newborn        +        feral    around    the    edges,    such    a    similar    position    to    her    early    years        /        nowhere    near    as    strong            —            he’s    softer,    kinder.        liam,    he    introduces    himself    as.        (        it’s    interesting,    how    he    doesn’t    look    at    her    like    something    to    be        …        coveted,    a    possession    to    sit    on    a    shelf.    he    looks    at    her    like    she’s    the    goddamned    sun,        +        it    makes    her    heart    pinwheel.        )        she’s    met    other    covens    before,    but    having    her    own        …        it    feels    like    the    first    time    she    stood    at    her    father’s    forge,    turned    rough    scrap    into    something    beautiful,    something    she    could    be    proud    of.    it    feels    like    home.

she    doesn’t    mean    to    fall    in    love    with    him.    really,    she    doesn’t            —            it’s    just    so    goddamned    hard    not    to.    when    you    know,    you    know        …        +        siobhan’s    known    since    their    fifth    year    together,    when    their    hands    brushed        +        it    felt    like    electricity    down    her    spine.    

they    get    engaged    in    1822,    a    gorgeous    affair    that    leaves    her    breathless        +        weeping    the    minute    he    bends    on    one    knee.        (        to    this    day,    they’ve    not    yet    gotten    married        /        she’ll    catch    herself    aching    to    call    him    her    husband,    like    her    mouth    was    made    for    the    word.    little    does    she    know    that    he’s    been    referring    to    her    as    his    wife    for    at    least    100    years    behind    her    back.        )        a    few    years    later,    they    find    her        —            maggie.    poor    little    thing,    she’s    skin        +        bones    when    they    stumble    across    her,        +        she    knows    they’re    lying    about    who    they    are,    what    they    are.    in    all    her    years,    it’s    the    first    time    siobhan’s    ever    been    recognised    instantly        ;        sparks    a    sense    of    intrigue    that    she    doesn’t    shake,    can’t    get    rid    of.

she    discusses    it    with    liam,    of    course,    the    idea    of    adding    maggie    to    the    coven.        (        to    the    family,    is    what    goes    unsaid,    but    not    unconsidered.        )        she    has    an    insurmountable    fondness    for    the    spindly    girl    they’re    looking    after,    an    interest    in    the    percipient    spark    behind    her    eyes.    ultimately,    she    makes    it    maggie’s    choice:        she    asks,    in    the    plainest    terms    she    can    muster,    whether    she’d    be    interested    in    something    better.        have    you    ever    wanted    to    be    a    god,    girl      ?        (        what    other    answer    is    there,    when    you    put    it    like    that        ?        )

she    never    thought    a    family    would    be    on    the    cards        /        never    thought    that    love    was    made    for    her,    soft,    sweet    thing    that    it    is.    she’d    never    have    imagined,    in    her    wildest    dreams,    that    she’d    get    to    spend    eternity    in    adoration    of    people    she’s    come    to    hold    in    the    highest    regard.    she    doesn’t    mind    the    constant    traveling,    the    reinvention    of    self    that    comes    with    it        ;        home    has    long    since    stopped    being    a    place,        +        more    so    people.    liam        +        maggie,    they’re    the    best    home    she    could    ask    for.

༊*·˚࿐　　　　✞　　　　𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁    𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴,        or:        personal.

nicknamed    shiv        ;        partly    because    she    likes    knives,    partly    because    her    family    are    fully    aware    that    she    could    disembowel    a    man    with    her    fingernails.    rocking    the    ‘looks    sweet    as    hell    but    would    not    hesitate    to    end    you’    vibe        !        

girlie    is    fucking    jacked.    it’s    so    important    that    everybody    knows    how    MUSCULAR    she    is        <333        blacksmith’s    daughter    vibes        …        she’s    so    strong.    she’s    so    sexy.    she’s    so    fucking    tall.    liam    come    get    ur    6’0    girl    before    i    do-

fiercely    protective    of    the    ones    she    loves.    absolutely    nobody    has    lived    to    tell    the    tale    of    how    they    threatened    liam    or    maggie,        &        survived.

speaking    of    liam        <333        she        +        liam    have    been    engaged    since    the    1820s.    they’re    so    in    love,        &        so    fucking    annoying        <333333        they    haven’t    made    any    progress    towards    an    actual    wedding,        +        make    it    an    art    form    to    bicker    over    the    details    of    the    event.        (        it’s    not    like    it    matters,    given    they’ve    been    together    for    well    over    350    years    now.    everyone    around    them    is    begging    them    to    get    an    event    planner.        )

[shivunin]

From Behind

(Emmaera Lavellan/Cullen | 513 Words | No warnings)

The sun shone on the courtyard outside. Cullen stood in the kitchen, kneading the bread dough, so he was grateful for the window that allowed him to watch the garden. 

Emma was out there now, half-asleep in the sunlight. Perhaps half an hour ago, she’d been gardening with their hound. Now, she lay on her side with their daughter, who was also quite asleep. A rare sight, that: Adhlea not in motion for once. The moment she’d learned to walk, one of them had needed to have her in sight at all times. The two-year-old seemed determined to pitch herself down the stairs while stubbornly declaring that she could climb them herself. 

They were a lovely sight, the two of them, Adhlea curled with her knees to her chest and a thumb half-fallen from her slack mouth, Emma’s body curved around her in a lovely arc. For perhaps the thousandth time, Cullen wished that he had been given more graceful hands, that he might somehow immortalize this moment in a drawing of some sort. 

As he thought so, Emma stirred and gestured to the hound. Deftly, the two of them traded places, and his wife stood with a yawn and a stretch that had her briefly balanced on her toes. He’d long since stopped thinking it was odd to still feel so caught in watching her, had come to accept that this was simply how it would always be. 

Maker, how grateful he was for that. 

She disappeared from the frame of the window, but he could hear her walking through the dining room to the kitchen, and the swing of the door when she pressed it open. 

“Oh, it smells lovely in here,” she murmured, stopping behind him to wind her arm around his midsection. She was warm from the sun, as if it had soaked into her clothes and skin, and the scent of earth and lavender rose from behind him. 

“I could say the same to you,” Cullen said, turning his head and bending slightly until she rose to her toes and kissed his cheek. 

“She is going to terrorize all the other children,” Emma said with a yawn, settling her cheek along his back, “I can’t wait.”

Cullen huffed, rounding the bread and setting it in its bowl under a damp cloth to go on rising. He had flour on his hands, but he twined his fingers with hers at his waist and looked out the window. 

Their daughter slept on, peaceful as she never was in wakefulness, and the sun shone gentle over her many curls. Soon enough, she would wake and the mabari would be hard-pressed to herd her through the house. Cullen would need to set his bread to baking, and Emma would need to let go. 

But this moment—held in her arms, safe, with a future to look forward to—it was one he never thought would come. So for this moment, he held his wife’s hand, watched his daughter rest safely, and felt with every ounce of his being how very, very lucky he was.

[ssahotstuff]

I posted 2,093 times in 2022

That's 2,093 more posts than 2021!

266 posts created (13%)

1,827 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@maschotch

@masterwords

@ssahotstuff

@hotch-girl

@lesbianhotch

I tagged 513 of my posts in 2022

#aaron hotchner - 371 posts

#criminal minds - 274 posts

#hotch - 246 posts

#ssa aaron hotchner - 219 posts

#ssa hotchner - 197 posts

#aaron hotchner smut - 157 posts

#hotchner - 118 posts

#aaron hotchner x you - 98 posts

#thomas gibson - 77 posts

#aaron hotchner playlist collection - 64 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#once again think im giving cm too much credit but i love the costume choice that the surgeon is fucking drenched with sweat. like so visibly

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Hotch x Fem Reader playlist collection 💕

These are stand-alone and do not go together unless stated otherwise.

Hysteria by Def Leppard here

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: age gap, (reader is in college & is Jack's babysitter when Aaron is out of town) alcohol consumption, (but not enough to be drunk,) smut, penetration, oral, (m & f receiving) sexting, light choking, dirty talk, etc.

The lights were dazzling against your shimmery black top as you navigated your way towards your friend Penelope who was waiting for you at the bar. It seemed to be the least crowed spot in the place, and considering it was the first night off you'd had in weeks, you were grateful. You enjoyed babysitting Jack, and you especially enjoyed Aaron, which he insisted you call him despite everyone else calling him Hotch. He was intimidating and full of authority but you were able to see past that. Deep down, he was a caring man who would do anything for the people around him.

He was home for the night, and Jack was at sleep away camp for the week, so you hadn't seen the two of them in a few days. You were starting to miss them, but you didn't want to overstep your boundaries and say anything.

"You look hot," Penelope raved, twirling you around so she could examine your outfit. It was out of your comfort zone, showing off more skin than usual, but with your dark, smoky eye makeup and your skin tight jeans, you felt better than you had in months. The stress of finals and helping Jack prepare for end of the year testing had you in a frazzled mindset but now that it was summer, you and Penny were celebrating. She worked closely with Aaron, and she often tried to convince you that he had the hots for you. It was cliché, sure, wanting the babysitter, but secretly, you would love the opportunity to have him for yourself.

Despite the fact you were with your dear friend, you couldn't shake the man from your mind, and somehow he ended up as the topic of conversation between the two of you. Penelope had a way of getting you to share more than you normally would, and this was no different.

"I know it's bad, he's like my boss," you said sheepishly, your fingers hovering over his name in your contact list. You'd been debating seeing what he was up to on his lonely Friday night.

"Your both adults. And he talks about you, god, it's like your the babysitter of the year," she beamed at you, hyping you up in a way only she knew how to do. In a moment of bravery, you opted to send him a casual message, just letting him know you were thinking about him.

Hey Aaron, I know you're probably busy considering you're off work but I just wanted to see how you were doing. You've been on my mind

You showed Penny the message and she applauded your subtle boldness, and you anxiously sipped on a water in anticipation for his reply. Instead of waiting, you tucked your phone in your bra and took to the dance floor, spinning beneath the kaleidoscope of neon lights until you were dizzy. By the time you decided your feet needed a break, Aaron had replied, and you were surprised to find he was happy to hear from you.

Aaron: Thinking about me on your first night of summer? I'm  flattered. You know you're welcome here anytime. What are you up to tonight?

You gushed before showing Penelope the message, hesitant on how to reply. He seemed flirty, and you wanted to take the chance and flirt back with him, especially if he was serious about you being welcome anytime.

I'm at the bar with Penelope but I'll be leaving soon if you'll be awake?

What are you wearing? Do you need clothes to watch a movie in?

See the full post

244 notes - Posted July 11, 2022

#4

Home//Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

part one can be found here

this is part 2!! <3

Home//Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: Emily Prentiss convinces Aaron Hotchner to get a nanny, and she knows the perfect girl for the job. You.

word count: 4.6k

Warnings for this series: SMUTTTT of all the types, minors DNI!! any minors that interact with my work with be blocked! my blog is 18+, violence, depictions of ab*se, terror, cursing, drug/alcohol content, death, crime

i will try to be a little more consistent with my post schedule once i figure out what days i'm gonna be revising and what days i'll be posting lmao. ALSO! neither part 1 or 2 have any smut. that comes next ;)

Aaron's POV

The house was peaceful, more peaceful than usual. There would be no more fumbling for my phone in the middle of the night to reach Jessica, no waking Jack at ungodly hours because work called you away. Most importantly, he'd be home waiting for me every time I come back, and I had Y/N to thank for that.

I hadn't lied when I said I had work to finish, that was almost always true. The work never ended, and if it did, it was only brief. It was a hard job, and a heavy load to carry. Having Y/N here was supposed to make that a little easier. And I had no doubts that she would, in certain aspects. The hardest part was going to be keeping her at a distance. I had been scolding myself all evening for reaching out and grabbing her hand, not once, but twice. But I couldn't help it, she was so honest with me about her life. Even though she wouldn't look me directly in the eye, I could tell they held a lifetime's worth of horrors and evil that only survivors and law enforcement had seen. It was the same look I'd harbored too many times.

I expected to have things in common with her but never anything like this.

It was the only thing on my mind as I mindlessly swept through the paperwork and crawled into bed, the clock on the table flashing 2:32 AM. No matter how tightly I shut my eyes, I couldn't sleep. Plagued by insomnia, or worse, and it wasn't easing up anytime soon. Most nights began like this and I'd just end right back up in my office, coffee in hand, working furiously to escape the exhaustion. Tonight was no different, except work was the furthest thing from my mind.

After a split second of deliberation, my coffee was cooling in its mug, and I had returned to my spot on the sofa, the lamp still on from earlier and the television playing softly in the background. This was the nightly routine when I was home: work, try to sleep, fail, sofa. But I couldn't even convince myself to try to sleep. It would come eventually, and I'd be grateful. Until then, The Golden Girls would be keeping me company.

Hardly any time at all passed before I heard the pouring of another cup of coffee, and was joined by Y/N, hair braided back away from her face and her eyes more rested than anyone else you'd seen at 3 AM.

"It's early," she stated, yawning and joining me on the sofa for the second time, tucking her feet at her side as she got comfortable. The only thing that concealed the smile on my face was the coffee in my hands. I wondered how long she'd been awake, and entertained the idea that maybe she'd been waiting on me to stir. For all I knew she could have been just as restless as I was.

"I hope I didn't wake you," I said, but truthfully, I was glad to hear her feet pad across the floor and into the room, even if the hour was entirely too early.

"No, not at all. I smelled the coffee. You don't look like you've been to bed," her free hand tapped repetitively on her leg, same as earlier. That's when I realized that I made her nervous.

"I don't sleep well most nights. I usually always end up here," I admitted, and she nodded in understanding.

"I'm that way sometimes too. I used to be afraid to sleep in a bedroom."

I noticed she was closer now than she had been. She'd positioned herself at my side, knees barely touching my thigh as her coffee mug met her lips once more.

"Tell me why."

"Afraid of settling into a place because I'd just have to leave again, maybe? Even up until recently I had a really bad habit of living out of a bag. All of my most important stuff stayed in my car, that way if we...if I had to leave, I was ready to go. Bedrooms just weren't a symbol of comfort for me."

"I like how you don't hesitate to answer me even if you aren't sure of what I’ll say in return."

It was her turn to look me over, the smallest smile tugging at her lips.

"I like how you tell me what you like."

"Being indirect has never been one of my strong suits."

She nodded, letting the conversation fall silent. She was trying to focus on the TV, and I was too, at first. I was entirely focused on the TV, trying not to dose off, until she sat her coffee cup on the coaster and patted my arm.

"Do you keep blankets in here?" It came out like a whisper, soft and sweet.

I nodded, pointing to the hope chest across the room, watching as she returned with a blanket entirely too big for her. She leaned into the couch on her side, spreading the blanket over her legs and then tossing me the remaining end.

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278 notes - Posted February 9, 2022

#3

Home//Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: Emily Prentiss convinces Aaron Hotchner to get a nanny, and she knows the perfect girl for the job. You.

word count: 5.5k

Warnings: SMUTTTT of all the types, minors DNI!! any minors that interact with my work with be blocked! my blog is 18+, violence, depictions of ab*se, terror, cursing, drug/alcohol content, death, crime

Let me start by saying I've debated for a week now on whether to share this with anyone. There are intimate details in this story that I put into my writing to use as a coping mechanism, so I ask that you be gentle with me. I have always been interested in writing, but this is the first thing I've shared with the world that I have taken seriously, so please be nice lmao

This story takes place in the Criminal Minds universe, but not to an exact. There are original characters along the way, and some tweaking to the storyline so I can share as few case details as possible. I don't want to ruin anything from the show, so I keep the cases really vague. I will also say it switches from the reader's POV to Aaron's occasionally, but I make sure you know before I switch! Anyway, here's part 1 <3

You were terrified.

And for good reason.

Aaron Hotchner was not the easiest person to win over, especially when it came to something as serious as keeping his son safe. After Jack's mother had been tragically murdered, his full intention was to keep Jack as safe as possible, and that meant finding someone to be with him full time. Jack had stayed with his Aunt Jessica for the first couple of months after he lost his mom, but Hotch was wanting to give Jack stability, and that meant sleeping in the same bed every night, routines, and someone that would always be around, even when Hotch was away with the BAU.

When Emily approached you about the job, you were hesitant, but not about being able to care for Jack. Children were a no-brainer for you. Sure, you didn't have any of your own, but that didn't replace the fact that you had spent the vast majority of your childhood caring for your mother's children in her absence. You knew if you were good at anything, it was taking care of people.

Aaron Hotchner made you... Nervous. While most of it was his demeanor, the majority of it was the undeniable instant attraction you had towards him. He was the definition of dark and mysterious, brooding and handsome. But you couldn't take back the excited "YES!" that escaped your lips a little too quickly about Aaron's interest in meeting with you, or the giddy smile that crept onto your face as you drove towards a most generic coffee shop near the BAU headquarters to meet with Hotch, this being the first time you'd ever been completely alone with him. You'd met him a handful of times at parties Emily hosted or invited you to tag along to, but never sat down and spoke with him face to face.

You weren't surprised to find him with his back to the wall, facing the entrance, a cup of coffee placed strategically on your side of the small table, while he quietly sipped his own. He hadn't spotted you yet, but you arrived a few minutes early, which gave you a spare second to admire the way he looked. He had one hand on his mug, and one stretched out on the table in front of him, statue still. His eyes were trained on his watch hand, no doubt to make sure you weren't going to make a bad first impression and be late.

"Right on time," he observed, watching you slide into your chair opposite of him, his eyes meeting yours as soon as you sat. His lips were pulled in a tight line across his face, making him nearly impossible to decipher. Emily had warned you of that, and you had silently been bracing for it ever since. You were a very emotional person; not in the sense that you cried constantly or anything like that. But you felt deeply, and that wasn't something you had ever been able to hide easily. Sure, you could keep your private life private, and you had plenty of secrets. However, when it came to your emotions, you held those on your sleeve, and you weren't afraid to share how you felt, or how someone else made you feel if the time was right.

"I wasn't sure you'd be here already, I actually got here ten minutes ago," you admit. It was true, but your paranoia about being late anywhere you went caused you to be embarrassingly early everywhere. You were working on it, but it allowed for plenty of time to get from point A to point B, and that's all that mattered to you. Hotch gave a small nod, motioning to the cup of coffee in front of you.

"I wasn't sure what you liked," he began, positioning himself to sit a little straighter as he spoke to you, "it's got cream and sugar."

"That's perfect, thank you," you replied, increasingly aware of Hotchner's eyes on you as you made sure the coffee was to your liking. You gave him a small thumbs-up, which earned an almost smirk out of him.

"Emily speaks very fondly of you. You two must be close," he observes, and while that's partly true, you refrain from telling him the reason why, for now anyway.

You nod your head, clutching your coffee to anchor you. Aaron's voice is deep, so deep that every time he speaks to you, you have to scold yourself, afraid you may say what's on your mind, and that would be messy.

"Yes, we are. I've known her for a long time. Since I was a young girl."

"You can't be older than what, 20? 21?"

You stared at him for a moment before you responded, confused by his general lack of knowledge about you.

"Wait, you didn't run a background check on me?"

He seemed taken aback, studying your eyes, perhaps for any sort of sign that you were joking.

"I didn't."

"That surprises me."

He laced his fingers together, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table. You start to worry he may be angry until he speaks again.

"Do you want me to be completely honest, Y/N?"

"Always. I prefer it, actually."

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332 notes - Posted February 7, 2022

#2

Dilf alert.

361 notes - Posted October 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

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404 notes - Posted October 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[baxtersworld]

CLIMATE CHANGE, THE CHANGE THAT CAUSETH THE CHANGE, May 15, 2026

Climate change is widely believed to be the cause of man’s reckless act towards nature, which has caused a drastic change in weather patterns, such as intense catastrophes.

However, God has absolute power and control over all forces of nature, and none can ever stay His hands.

DANIEL 4:35 …he DOETH according to his WILL in the army of heaven… NONE can STAY HIS HAND, or say unto him, WHAT DOEST THOU?

JOB 37:6, 9, 12-13

(6) For he saith to the SNOW, Be thou on the earth…

(9) Out of the south cometh the WHIRLWIND: and COLD out of the north.

(12) And it is TURNED round about by his COUNSELS: that they may DO whatsoever he COMMANDETH them…

(13) HE CAUSETH it to COME, whether for CORRECTION, or for his land, or for MERCY.

JOB 38:22-23

(22) Hast thou entered into the treasures of the SNOW? or… the treasures of the HAIL,

(23) Which I have RESERVED against the TIME OF TROUBLE, against the day of battle and war?

Humans are somehow a contributing factor of climate change, however, all changes in nature, whether in the land, sea, or air, were solely an act of God.

DANIEL 2:21 And HE CHANGETH the TIMES and the SEASONS…

One of the most important numbers in climate change is 1.5 C, which is the global warming threshold for the earth to possibly be considered a safe habitation.

°F = °C x 1.8 (EQUIVALENT RATIO OF CHANGE FORMULA)

1.5 °C x 1.8 = 2.7 °F

These figures exactly derive from the number of the beast (Revelation 13:18).

REVELATION 13:18 Here is WISDOM… COUNT the NUMBER of the beast… his number is SIX HUNDRED THREESCORE AND SIX.

6 + 6 + 6 = 18 6 x 6 x 6 = 216

13 + 83 = 513 21 + 6 = 27

5 x 1 x 3 = 15

God used the number of the enemies to return their ways to their own heads (Obadiah 15).

The Roman numeral of number 15 is XV.

X – 24, V – 22

24 + 22 = 46 (4 + 6 =10)

Taking the cube of numbers 1-10 as per digit will give a sum of 2026, the exact year of Christ’s return.

Along with the climate change, God likewise imparted other signs of the times that will transpire prior to Christ’s Second Advent (Luke 21:9-11).

MATTHEW 16:1-4

(1) The Pharisees also with the Sadducees came… desired him that he would SHEW them a SIGN from HEAVEN.

(2) …When it is evening, ye say, It will be fair weather: for the sky is red.

(3) …ye can DISCERN the face of the SKY; but can ye NOT DISCERN the SIGNS of the TIMES?

(4) …there shall no sign be given unto it, but the SIGN of the prophet JONAS…

Herewith, God gave His appointed time in the days of Jonah, for it heralds Christ’s return.

JONAH 3:1-4

2 – SECOND time (verse 1) 1 – a DAY’S journey (verse 4)

3 – THREE DAYS’ journey (verse 3) 40 – FORTY days (verse 4)

2 + 3 + 1 + 40 = 46 (4 + 6 = 10)

Taking the cube of numbers 1-10 as per digit will give a sum of 2026, the exact year of Christ’s return.

God has beforehand enlightened His people that all His promises are conditional, which means that man should first be found faithful to all His commandments, otherwise, all God’s curses will surely be poured (Deuteronomy 28:1-2, 15, 59, 63, 66-67).

In these last days, God’s wrath, unmixed with mercy, will prompt a terrible climate change, which is the ultimate cause of earth’s impending doom, for man changed the glory of God to other gods (Jeremiah 2:11), changed the truth into a lie (Romans 1:25), and changed and broken the covenant of God (Isaiah 24:4-6).

REVELATION 11:18 And the nations were angry, and thy wrath is come… and shouldest DESTROY THEM which DESTROY the EARTH.

“…ALL LIFE on the planet BEGINS and ENDS with GOD, anything we do to try to save the earth will ultimately be FUTILE… the Creator has given into our charge until the FULLNESS of TIME is COMPLETED.” (TEN COMMANDMENTS FOR THE ENVIRONMENT, POPE BENEDICTS XVI, Speaks Out For Creation and Justice, Woodeene Koenig-Bricker, 97-98)

TO GOD BE THE GLORY!

[allay-uxini]

It somehow only has 513 views on YouTube

my love letter to wizard scar from last life (eng subs)

[riddle-me-ri]

Can I please get a spicy fic about Secret Six Mad Hatter, biting A/n to mark them during a um cock warming **ahem** tea party. (Don't judge me lol)

a/n: anon I am the LAST person to be judging anyone about anything lmao i’m so mad I couldn’t come up with a clever title for this rip. Also also, sorry to tease at the end. I’m trying to challenge myself to write shorter (a.k.a not 1k word) fics lmao

Content Warning: explicit sexual content, cock warming, sensation play, drink/tea play? and biting.

Word Count: 513

Secret Six Mad Hatter x Reader - Setting the Table

This was not what you had in mind when Jervis invited you over for tea. 

You weren't exactly complaining…or at least not as much as you could be considering he hasn't moved.

You laid bent over the round table. The white colored table cloth strongly clashed against your naked form–highlighting your dirty deed somehow. 

Your arms were bound behind your back by some thick ribbon like material. Your back was currently being occupied by a teacup and it's saucer was perfectly balanced along your spine. 

Jervis was behind you with his cock fully sheathed inside you. 

Absolutely zero signs of him moving. 

Jervis hummed along behind you, not missing a beat as if this was a totally typical tea time. 

You desperately wanted to buck your hips into his, feel some kind of friction and build some kind of tension. 

Jervis chuckled giddily behind you. "Ah, you're doing so well, my dear. I must say I'm impressed." 

His gloved index finger began trailing up your spine, slowly reaching up to the tea cup. The sensation caused you to shiver slightly which made the tea cup sway some. 

"Oh, careful…don't want to make a mess…" 

You groaned internally. You couldn't be a bigger mess than what you are right now. 

The saucer wavered slightly on your spine as he deftly lifted the tea cup. 

Your breath instantly hitched when you felt a warm liquid pour onto your skin. 

Jervis softly gasped as your hole tightened around his cock as a result of the surprise sensation to your back. 

Jervis tsked. "Oh, now look at what you made me do!" 

You continued to not respond as he ordered you to do when this whole thing started. You weren't sure you could think of anything to say regardless, the warmth of the tea slowly spreading throughout your back as it continued to spill down the divots of your spine.  

"Hmm…what to do to make less of a mess of you…" Jervis pondered out loud. 

Your body slightly tensed up. Anxiously waiting for his next move and trying to prep your body not to move no matter what. 

However, you couldn't refrain from the short gasp you let out when you felt something warm and wet along your back. 

Jervis eagerly licked your skin, lapping up the tea before it could go to waste.

You arched your back as his buck teeth slightly grazed against your skin along with his tongue. 

If Jervis noticed these jolts from you, he didn't scold you for them. 

He snickered against your skin. "Perhaps next time you should just be my tea cup." 

You gulped some air. "J-Jervis–Ahh…" 

Shortly after you whimpered his name, Jervis bit down on your skin just a little below your shoulder blade. His eyes rolled in the back of his head as you tightened around him once more. 

The bite marks he was leaving made your skin flush a pretty red. You made a fine tea cup indeed.

"Now, now…” he nibbled along your back. “You were doing so well dear…surely you don't want the fun to end here."