#sometimes I just want to eat the monster
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windingcorridor · 1 year ago
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These vibes are fantastic. More Delicious Dungeon in my TTRPGs please ❤️
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This year I got to work on a tabletop RPG doing some MonHun inspired characters and it was a ton of fun ✨ The game revolves around the wilders, mutated rangers that try to stop the frenzy, a virus that makes monsters violent and self-destructive. Not only hunters but also chefs! WILDERFEAST is live on kickstarter right now, you can check all about it and support it here!
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supersoftly · 1 year ago
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Everytime I suggest diet might be your problem, I always lose a follower. Some of you are destined to be your own worst enemy.
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fennecfiree · 4 months ago
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Tw vent in tags uh ed
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Sobbing to this uh
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maretriarch · 5 months ago
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turns out how not to be deficient in fat in your diet is to stop eating only low fat versions of foods
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em-b-sides · 4 months ago
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I think about that tiktok trend where you like paint your partners eye color on your nails or make a bracelet or something with the color a lot actually
#like its so cute honestly but sometimes i wonder how hard it would actually be to like find the right color match#maybe one day... but for now probably expect oc art with this trend in it maybe 💀#the thing about it too is i have like dark eyes and idk if ive ever seen like a dark brown nail polish. beads or thread yeah but ya#oh nvm i googled. it exists i just dont pay attention ig#OH you know what i can do... i can paint pepperonis eye color on my nails.... my baby... my kitty......#dude it feels like 5 am why is it only 2#amyways. 4 monsters was a big mistake i think... i feel quite icky...#it doesnt help i didnt eat for a majority of the day it was just monster. im really unhealthy. need water maybe#wait i was talking about nail polish how did i get here#i just want to actually do cute couple things. i must heal. im gonna be so healthy.#its fine. lmao. i just know im not ready#oh i did eat btw dont worry lmao i had. chicken nuggets#i actually have to eat more bc i need to gain back some weight or they wont let me donate plasma#my extra pokemon money..... nawr...#i dropped like 10 pounds. my current job is very physical. lots of scuttling around.#i thought about working out too? i had a short phase last year in like spring or something where i started doing workout type stuff#so like.. maybe. probably should. healtly mindset shit yk#i also maybe want some more clothes. like update my wardrobe a bit. really figure out my style.#like some cool shirts and maybe pants. cause i wear a lot of the same stuff#also again. dropped weight so. need better fitting pants.....#i want more mens pants. big pockets... gender....#anyways. nice chatting with you besties. love you guys my silly little tumblr besties.#some of you that follow this sideblog have supported me on here for a while. i see you. i appreciate you. thank you 💖#genuinely there are names that pop up and im like !! hello!!! its you!!!!!#you guys probably know who you are. go get yourself a little treat you deserve it. or like. idk what you enjoy.#play a good game. watch your favorite show. idk. be happy. love yourself.#this also goes out to those of you who are more passive on my blog. i appreciate you too!! thank you!#all my little tumblr followers.... my besties..... unles you are a bot i havent cleared out lmao#k i might have to go to bed idk im tired well see
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recallback-art · 6 months ago
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Mentioned a few days back, but I have been having trouble with faces recently so I sat down to do a whole batch of expressions to try getting outta that funk. Same four emotions across dif faces. It was fun, if nothing else!
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monster-noises · 2 years ago
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ananke-xiii · 3 months ago
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cas practising (en/forced) exo-/endo-cannibalism will always be important to me.
#that guy has done it all#however I must say that this show truly thinks everybody's just a vessel and I'm not sure how I feel about that#for instance: Cas without grace is still not human to me. no matter how the show wants to tell me otherwise. I ain't buying that.#he's having human experiences sure. but. like. that's it. and I'm totally fine with that. You go eat burritos darling.#and I like my own take better tbh. 'Cause the show doesn't take a stand to the point that eventually even God is *just* transferable power.#meeeeeeeeh.#And this is the result of the post-kripke-seasons'perversion of the original story about sam and demon blood but it's still NOT the same.#cause angels and demons are not humans. even the idea of injecting human blood to turn a demon.#hypothetically: cool. if you think about it: mmmmh a demon is still an entity possessing somebody.#even if that somebody has been dead for centuries. the demon's been colonizing a corpse. he might experience human stuff again#but the demon is still a demon with a human (resurrected? reincarnated? what happens to the the possesed's soul???) body#(i don't really think that angels and demon can resurrect but they can reincarnate. or not? can they die when they are not in a body?)#so does this mean that being human means having human experiences? eeeeeeeehhhh the show seems to say: bleargh#cause apparently humans too are just vessels for the soul#no soul? not sure you're fully human.cause you can't experience stuff anymore.it's quite complicated as the jack's storyline debacle shows#what i mean is that sometimes I've got the feeling that the show uses its characters like recipes#a little bit of that and you're an angel. a little less of this and you're a monster#it's very quantity-oriented#and i'm like: MEEEEEEEEEEEEEH.#SO ANYWAY#Cas eating a little bit of his siblings to become an angel really seems to boil down to: you are what you eat.#spn s9#castiel#character of all time#supernatural
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tofixtheshadows · 6 months ago
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I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.
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Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.
Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.
Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.
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I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.
He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).
First, we get this:
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Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.
They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.
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It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.
We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.
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What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?
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He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.
In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.
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Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!
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...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.
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Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.
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And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.
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I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.
And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.
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Meals are the privilege of the living.
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witchywcmans · 6 months ago
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PLEASE, EAT. | LAIOS TOUDEN
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synopsis ━━ after you've been bitten by a sea serpent, you know the consequences are either death or the possibility of turning into one yourself. thankfully for you, laios touden is the devourer of all things monster and he is dedicated to getting that venom out of you. (laios x f!reader.)
content warnings ━━ sex pollen-adjacent, cunnilingus + fingering, praise, breath play (kinda, if you squint), semi-public sex, multiple orgasms. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).
word count ━━ 3k
song inspiration ━━ too sweet, hozier / more than friends, isabel larosa
author's note ━━ this is the first time I've ever written and posted an x reader one-shot on here, so please be gentle with me lol. I usually only write x oc fics bc I'm a yapper and I love creating characters. but alas...I was perusing the laios x reader tag and wanted to read something with this plot, couldn't find it, so I figured I'd just do it myself 🫡
🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.
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This was definitely one of the worst situations you’d been in.
You had joined Laios’ adventuring party just a few months prior. They had found you on floor 3 of the dungeon, shivering and mourning the loss of your father. His body, dead in your arms, and beside him lay the lifeless body of a ghoul you had killed. At first, the party’s leader, Laios Touden, had only been interested in taking the ghoul's body so they could use its bones for utensils after the flesh rotted off. But it was Marcille who noticed the tears in your eyes, how you trembled from the cold, and suggested they take you in. You almost declined, not wanting to leave your father’s body, but knowing he’d soon turned into a monster left you with only one option. Your father had been with you for the past twenty-five years of your life, and now, you were leaving his dead body in a dungeon to travel with a group of strangers.
You soon came to appreciate your new party, though, and you felt your father’s spirit within each of them. Marcille had his kindness, Chilchuck had a comparable wit, Senshi was gifted with excellent cooking skills, and Laios … well, you were still figuring that out. And surprisingly, it was Laios who you began to connect with the most. His knowledge of monsters was unmatched, and he had a passion for learning how to prepare them while they traveled deeper into the dungeon. He was overtly blunt, much like you, and possessed similar advanced fighting skills due to both your fathers' teachings.
Sometimes … sometimes though, you found yourself staring at him more than you should have. His face was abnormally perfect, as if he’d been carved by an artist. His tousled ash-blonde hair reminded you of a lion, and his eyes … sometimes you could’ve sworn they were made out of gold, shimmering like molten lava. Each time you thought this way, you smacked yourself when no one else was looking. I mean, Laios was your friend, your party leader. Having a crush, especially in circumstances like these, was unethical. You had always been focused on one thing: helping your party and making it out of this dungeon alive, for your father. You wouldn’t let a little crush deter you.
Everything had been all well and good until today, when you and your party reached the end of floor 4. When Laios had struggled to fight off a sea serpent, you joined him in the lukewarm water, using your crossbow to shoot the creature in the head. Finally, Laios was able to step in to slice the serpent’s head off … but not before the creature could snap its jaw, tearing one fang down your hip. You jumped back, screaming as you felt the venom seep into you instantly. Some said sea serpent venom would kill you immediately, others said it turned you into one of them, cursing you to haunt the waters with them as penance. As soon as the head was cut, Laios carried you away from the water, and the last thing you heard was Marcille cursing him out before you were rendered unconscious. 
You were woken up – hours, maybe days later – by a drop of water hitting your face every few seconds. Lifting your head from the makeshift tunic pillow, you took in your surroundings. You were at the entrance of floor 5, in a damp corner of cobblestone, while water dripped down onto the floor every so often. There was a moist bandage covering your side where the serpent’s fang had cut into you, part of your tunic ripped to shreds. Hunger boiled in your stomach, making you groan and rub your head. Laios was sitting just a few feet away, a small fire in front of him to keep warm. Marcille had to have helped him with that; there was no way to craft a fire in an area this damp.
“Am I dead?” You asked softly. 
Laios immediately turned in your direction, his mouth lifting in a smile. “Of course not.”
Your stomach did flip flops as you took in his smile, hunger consuming you. You needed something to eat – bad. Your body felt hot and sweaty, and you wondered if it was just from the humidity, even though Laios didn’t look affected. Sitting up, you informed him, “Well, that was one of two options my father said would happen from a sea serpent bite. Which means …” You lifted the bandage up, noticing the gills that started to form on the healing wound. A turquoise hue surrounded the gills, almost like a bruise. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered.
Laios stood, looming over you while asking, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s the other option,” you replied, too hungry to cry. “The bite is –”
“– Turning you into a sea serpent,” Laios finished. “Honestly, I thought that was just a myth. But when the bite didn’t kill you …” His mouth twitched, tongue darting out to wet the corners of his lips. “We have to suck the venom out. That has to stop the mutation.”
Your head snapped up. “Huh?” 
But as soon as your eyes met his, you started to wondered if what you were experiencing was hunger after all. Perhaps … a different kind of hunger. Laios stared down at you, the sparkling gold replaced by a dark hazel. It was just you two in this little corner of the dungeon, but you suddenly felt exposed, so naked, under his gaze. Your body was hot all over, sweat sticking to uncomfortable places. And your thighs … a burning need emerged between them, soaking the thin linen of your undergarments. This had to be a symptom of the bite, but it suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Your worry had been replaced by an ache that only he could fix.
No – absolutely not. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You were turning into a sea serpent.
But the need between your legs still throbbed.
“It’s like when a snake bites you on the surface,” Laios said, crouching down to your eye level. His closeness made your heart rate pick up. You realized then that he had shed his armor, kneeling in front of you in just his gambeson, which clung to his muscles and wide frame. “A sea serpent is part snake. Sucking out the venom should stop the mutation. You’ll probably experience symptoms from the bite for a few more hours, but they’ll stop eventually.” 
He started to peel back the bandage, taking a look at the gills forming on your hip when you gripped his wrist. Immediately, his skin burned, making you even more hot. You ripped your hand away from him, and with sweat trickling down the side of your face, you said, “Don’t you think this is … weird? Maybe Marcille should do it.”
“Marcille and the others just went back to another part of the level to find dinner. They won’t return for an hour, at least. This can’t wait.” He inspected the turquoise gills with concern, before his eyes snapped back to yours, noticing the way your black pupils filled almost the entire iris. “Do you not trust me?”
“Of course, I trust you. It’s just …” What exactly was the reason again? Oh, yes, it was pulsating hunger dripping between your legs from the bite, and you were terrified how you’d react the second his lips wrapped around your wound. The symptoms would just get worse. But he was right – this was the only way. Fuck, this had to be the most embarrassing thing you’d ever experienced. 
“Fine,” you finally relented, lying back down on the cobblestone. You did your best to get comfortable, but the makeshift pillow hardly provided much cushion between you and the floor.  “What should I do?”
“Nothing, just lay back and let me take care of it.” Laios lifted your tunic a smidge, and just the tenor of his voice made your ache even worse. “We’re just gonna … get this out of the way. And then …” His fingers hooked on the waistband of your pants, and you immediately clutched his collar. If you touched his skin again, you were sure to moan.
Laios looked from where your hand was gripping him and back to your eyes. “Your pants need to be off so I can have better access to the mutation. It’s on your hip.” You swallowed hard, knowing he was right, and your hand started to slip off his collar. “We’re friends, right?” He asked.
You nodded weakly.
“Good,” he smiled again, and you struggled to hold back a plea for him to touch you. He pulled down your pants, tossing them to the side. For a moment, he paused, taking in your soaked underwear and running his fingers over the mutation on your hip. He licked his lips again, and then said in a rather blunt tone, “You’re so –”
“Don’t say it,” you cut in, snapping your eyes shut to prevent further embarrassment.  Though you had never minded Laois’ occasional lack of social cues, this was one of those moments you needed anything but. “Just get the venom out.”
Laios tugged your underwear down a little to see if the mutation had spread. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he informed you, lowering his head to your hip. “I’ve read that these bites can have a multitude of internal symptoms. Nightmares ... sweating … fever …” He ran his tongue over the gills, making your breath hitch instantly. “… And especially, arousal. Neat, huh?” He chuckled, and just his warm breath on the gills made you even more wet. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he assured before finally wrapping his mouth on the wound.
Your body burned even hotter than before as soon as his lips touched your skin. He sucked the venom out of you, spitting out blue globs every other second. His hands gripped your side, digging into your flesh and leaving crescent shapes from his nails. As you felt the gills start to close up, you couldn’t help but moan and arch into nothing. This felt better than any time you masturbated … any time you imagined your party leader above you … Fuck, who would’ve thought sucking sea serpent venom out of you would feel this good? Thank the gods the rest of their party was off catching dinner. You couldn’t deal with them possibly hearing this.
It surprised you when your orgasm flooded through you like a crashing wave. As Laios finished sucking out the last of the venom and the mutation closed, your arousal came to a definite peak and you let out a whine. You grabbed his arm, cumming from absolutely no stimulation.
Laios didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he was mostly preoccupied with inspecting the area. You opened your eyes, your cheeks tinged pink, and saw the globs of venom to the left dissipate to nothing but water. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry, I –”
“The mutation closed. I was right!” Laios looked down at you, a big grin covering his face. “How do you feel?”
“Well, I definitely don’t feel a second set of lungs on my hip anymore.” You lifted your hand when you noticed a trickle of blue staining his lip, wiping it away with your thumb. “But I … my body is still …” The ache inside you had simmered slightly, but it was still there, lingering underneath the surface. 
This was genuinely humiliating. Maybe you should’ve just decided to turn into a sea serpent after all.
Laios grabbed your wrist before you could pull away from his face. He leaned into your palm, running his long nose down to your inner wrist. “Your skin is so warm. I can still smell how aroused you are from the serpent bite.” His eyes burned into yours, keeping your hand close to his face. “I can help. Do you need another release?”
Your cheeks got even more red when he acknowledged your orgasm. Shaking your head, you said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I can just –”
“I’d be honored to,” he replied, quite gruffly and persistent. His fingers tugged your underwear down with precision and ease, despite the damp fabric clinging to you. He spread your legs wide and placed them on his shoulders. Lowering himself down, he inhaled the scent of your climax and hooked his arms around your inner thighs. He smiled up at you – your pretty face red with embarrassment – all dopey-eyed and grateful. “You lot like to call me the devourer of monsters. Perhaps I should devour the last bit of monster out of you.”
He inhaled again, groaning like he typically did when he was hungry. His hot breath against your achingly wet pussy made you whimper with desperation. “You smell so good down here,” he whispered. “I’d wager you taste even better.”
You gasped as soon as he dove between your legs, licking a stripe through your folds, tasting your recent orgasm. He flicked his tongue over your clit before sucking on it with feverish excitement. Slick gathered on his tongue and he whined, needing more. So much more. You were the most delicious meal he’d ever tasted. Better than any monster, better than anything on the surface. 
“So good,” he muttered into your pussy, lapping against your clit, doing anything that would get him more of your arousal. “You taste so, so good.”
You whimpered out his name and attempted to close your legs, but he held them opened with all his strength. His arms wrapped around your thighs went tight, bruising the sensitive flesh. Your jaw went slack while your own hands scrambled for purchase, eventually landing in his cropped hair. You tugged, hips bucking against his face, making him groan even more. This allowed him to hold your hips a little higher, and his tongue finally dipped into your leaking entrance. You heard him grunt the second he plunged his tongue deeper, his nose nuzzling your clit. 
He devoured you like a starved man. He devoured you like you were a boiled scorpion, or roast basilisk, or – even better – like sweet, delicious homemade cheesecake. 
“Laios,” you whined, feeling your fever dissolve with each lap of his tongue. “Laios, it’s … fuck – it’s okay, I feel –”
“Need more,” he muttered, his voice low and laced with need. He was practically humping the stone floor as he buried his tongue as far as it could go inside you. Your hips couldn’t stop bucking forward, riding his face as you felt your orgasm building at the base of your stomach. Laios was completely transfixed. He wanted to be here, nestled between your thighs, for every meal. He’d take you away from the rest of the group before dinner, lapping away to the sounds of your pleas and whimpers, so help him gods. He’d do this every day, every night, whenever you wanted, for as long as he was alive. Fuck monsters. He could survive off the taste of you for the rest of his life.
Slipping his tongue out of your hole, he went back to sucking on your throbbing clit and feeling your legs start to tremble. You had to be close to another release, and he was desperate to taste it. He paid all his attention on your clit, snaking one hand up and sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into your entrance in tandem. “Fuck,” you moaned, tugging on his hair once again, “fuck – gods, Laios. I – I’m s-so close –”
“Please,” he begged, smearing your slick all over his mouth. “Please, you’re so good. Need to see how you taste when you release on my tongue.” His own hips continued to buck against the floor.
You choked on a cry when you finally came all over his tongue. He groaned, loud and drawn out, when he finally got a taste of your sweet climax, knowing that it was him that brought you to this point. The orgasm felt long, like the ocean bringing you in and out, and your whole body trembled. He continued lapping at your clit as it pulsed under his tongue, his fingers curling inside you through your orgasm. When you finally breathed out and started to come down from the high of it all, Laios stayed between your thighs, allowing his tongue to gently swirl your clit. Maybe if he continued, he could taste a little more of you …
You found your voice, hoarse from overstimulation. “Laios, please, you have to stop,” you begged, yanking his head up from between your legs. His mouth was covered in your slick, and then he was giving you that dopey expression again, making your heart clench. Your body was no longer hot and sweaty. Laios had completely cured you of the sea serpent bite with that expert mouth of his. He unwound his arms from your thighs, bringing his fingers that were still covered with your wetness to his mouth, tasting the last of your orgasm. You watched him, eyes wide and cheeks blushing, until he was looking at you again with those golden doe eyes.
“That was amazing,” he said, like he was in a haze. When your eyes flickered down, you realized he was hard in his pants, but it wasn’t like he even noticed himself with the way he was staring at you. “We should do that again sometime.”
He stood up, and you scrambled to pull your clothes back on before the group came back. You stammered, “It’s okay, uh – we don’t have to. Especially if you don’t want to. We could just –”
“I want to,” he cut in, a determined look in his eyes. “What are friends for, right?” 
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skzdarlings · 2 months ago
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the rescue ; skz; aotm!hyunjin x reader
original ask: requested by @tattywood: ❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜ would 100000% fit Hyunjin 🩶 + requested by anonymous: ❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜ with hyunjin? thank you
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pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: artist of the month!hyunjin was inspo here. gangster stuff, reader has been kidnapped and is in a see through nightdress, most violence off page though, bad guy hyunjin who is actually a good guy, arranged marriage, multiple smut scenes, not great communication but gets better lol. smut includes fingering, blow jobs, pussy eating, piv, spanking, light choking, husband/wife kink. word count: 6300 words.
masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.
enjoy! <3
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“I’ve already explained,” you say, equal parts frustrated and exhausted.  “My husband isn’t coming for me.” 
The gangster cronies still don’t seem to understand.  You are tied to a chair in their basement (because they are preposterously corny goons, tying you up like a comically silly damsel in a ridiculous film) while they berate you for your husband’s tardiness.    
You have tried explaining, over and over, that Hyunjin is not coming, but they won’t accept that answer.  The fools try in vain to reach him again, but his line leads straight to a dial tone. 
He went radio silent after the initial video contact, when your captors demanded a price for your healthy return. 
Hyunjin was quiet on the call.  Your husband is a quiet man in general, though he knows how to use his charms and work a room, and he has certainly perfected the art of severe intimidation.  When your marriage was arranged, one mob family to the other, you mistakenly assumed you were marrying a monster. 
Hyunjin is very reserved when not conducting business.  He doesn’t engage in any of the more debauched sides of the business, unlike the men in your family.  Evenings at home are silent and still, the penthouse view of the glittering cityscape the only real bustle. 
Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised you.  When he took over his family’s business, Hyunjin altered a lot of their practices, cutting the crueler sectors, opting for illicit crimes of more practical varieties. 
The country is in a political chokehold, government affairs conducted none too differently from the criminal underworld.  The cops are all dirty, the politicians corrupt, the wealthy depraved.  Hyunjin has taken it upon himself to alleviate the pressure suffered by the regular people, the civilians who truly pay the price of a broken system.
In a world with no good guys, sometimes only villains can be heroes.    
You think of his face now, how he certainly looked the part of a villain on the video call.  Hyunjin has a very austere demeanour, exacerbated by his severe appearance: sharp marble features and dark, vicious eyes often further darkened with heavy lining, sleek black hair, scattered scars and tattoos, and the sort of regard that judges at a glance.  He is young, but he has the air of a man who has already traversed the universe and found it wanting.       
You think of his face now, the silent perusal he gave your bound body on that video call.  You are dressed in your favourite nightgown, your underthings partially visible through the light material, but it was not willingly donned.   At the time of your kidnapping, you were attired appropriately for the wealthy wife of a famous gangster.  You were returning from a family visit when your captors intercepted you in transit from the airport. 
Either to intimidate or threaten or just because they could, they made you remove all your jewelry and fine clothes.  They rifled through your luggage and demanded you change into the nightgown. 
Hyunjin recognized the nightdress, realized you must have been stripped, and likely inferred the very worst. 
“Address,” was the only word Hyunjin said.   He ended the call seconds later.    
“Oh, he’ll come,” your captor says.  He points at you with a hand that feels more threatening than a knife.  It makes your terrified heart leap into your throat.  “Or else.” 
“He won’t, though!” you exclaim.  “You’re wasting your time!”
They are not listening.  They leave the basement, slamming the door behind them.
You huff and settle back in your bonds. 
It is only a matter of time before they realize you are telling the truth.  Hyunjin will not waste the money or resources to rescue you.  He has always been respectful of the marriage arrangement, but your husband is not sentimental.  There is a professional distance between you.  His decision will be based in the logic of all his strategies: nothing personal, just a matter of business. 
You sometimes see a different side of him, something buried under that quiet intensity.  He collects fine art and spends hours poring over his favourite pieces, listening to music, losing himself to artistic fantasies.  He always comes back, but you know there are other worlds in his mind. 
Every attempt to bridge the gap has been gently rebuffed, but there have been moments when your husband seems curious about you.  You often catch him staring.  He gets a wistful look that softens his face, even with that shield of make-up.  His eyes are gentle when you talk about your passions.  You never let his quietude deter your friendly penchant for chatter.   He seems more than content to listen.  He remembers everything too. 
You know he finds you attractive, if nothing else.  He has caved on that front several times over, though not right away.  He didn’t touch you on the wedding night, nor the honeymoon.  He left your beach holiday early to return to business, leaving you in a villa with security and his credit card.  It was the first time you realized the material world was no replacement for true companionship.  You missed his dark eyes.
Your family also had expectations.  There would be consequences if the marriage fell through.  You would be blamed, not him.  Worried he would renege on the nuptials, you did everything to try and seduce him. 
He politely rejected you at every turn. 
Just when you were resigned, he arrived home after a job.  It was almost three in the morning when he entered the penthouse.  You have separate bedrooms but they share a connecting bathroom.  You could hear him cursing above the running water. 
You only meant to peek.  The sliding door on your side was partially ajar so you tip-toed over. 
Hyunjin was standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, pressing a rag to his wounded shoulder.  There was a mess of blood streaked down his back, making you gasp at the terrible mosaic of pain, his body littered with violent scars. 
That gasp contained multitudes, for the horror, for his beauty.  His dark eyes were as severely lined as ever, expression intense as he breathed hard through the pain.  Smooth black hair fell across his face when he tipped his head. 
He froze at the sound of your gasp.  His turn was very slow, eyes peeking through the curtain of his short hair.  They captured yours.   
You held your breath. 
Eventually, he straightened, flicking his hair out of his face.  He looked in the mirror and sighed.    
“You can come in,” he said.   “This is your home too.” 
You slid the door open, just enough to squeeze through.  Your attention was utterly transfixed on his bleeding shoulder.  You could see the wound was a thin stripe.  It was not deep so stitches were not necessary, but it was slightly out of his reach as it sloped towards his back.
“Oh, Hyunjin,” you said, thoughtlessly taking the rag right out of his hands.    
In spite of the violence that raised you, or maybe because of it, you can’t stand to see suffering.   You and Hyunjin have had that in common from the start.  You were quick to help him clean the wound, wordlessly wiping all the blood then applying cream across the clotted cut. 
He flinched when the stinging cream made contact.  You went to apologize but your words evaporated when your eyes met through the mirror.  You were surprised to find him already looking at you, that expressive gaze as thoughtful as ever. 
“How did this happen?” you couldn’t help but ask, eyes rivetted to his reflection.   “You – you have people to protect you.”  You managed to rip your gaze away, looking at your task, feeling hot in the face. 
“I do,” he said.  “But I’d never ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do myself.” 
This did not surprise you to hear.   It is obvious that Hyunjin cares very deeply about the wellbeing of other people.  It is a fact known to few.  It aggravates you at times, but his reputation does not seem to bother him.  He would rather people think him a monster while he secretly does good rather than be praised in public while cruel in private. 
You have never known another man like him.  Looking at that scar that night, the realization truly struck you. 
Your fingers began to tremble where they brushed his bare skin, your eyes widening as you looked at the scar and many others.  If something happened to him, what would become of you?  Certainly, as his widow, you would be financially sound, but what did that matter?  This world would lose something irreplaceable if it lost Hwang Hyunjin.  This penthouse could be brimming with silver and gold and it would be empty, worthless. 
Tears in your eyes, you succumbed to desire, kissing him very gently on his hurt shoulder. 
“Hyunjin,” you said, your eyes closed, lips grazing his skin as you spoke.  “Please make sure you always come home, okay?” 
He did not answer at first.  When you lifted your eyes and looked in the mirror, those dark eyes were so enflamed that you were surprised nothing caught fire. 
“Hyunjin?” you said softly.   
“You mean that,” he said, not quite a question, more like a realization. 
“Of course,” you replied. You looked at his scarred back again, let your fingertips brush down the length of his spine.  It made him stand a little straighter.  “Have you ever known me to lie?” you asked. 
He finally turned around, looking at you with an long-engrained wariness, but also a hunger.  He was a starving man presented with a banquet, but one who did not easily trust when sitting at someone else’s table. 
“You’re a smart woman,” he said.  “I know that.  And I know that you’re – good.” 
Good was an exhale, like the word was too heavy for his tongue.  You realized that his wariness was less suspicion for you than hesitation regarding himself.  He was only starving because he though himself undeserving of the meal he wanted. 
“You’ve seen – and done – many bad things tonight, haven’t you?” you asked. 
Having the full force of his gaze was overwhelmingly heady.  You remember how it made your heart race like you were being chased, your breath catching over and over until you were almost panting. 
Arousal struck quickly, a sensation like you never experienced before.  You thought you understood attraction, but not until that moment when he released a breath, so close to your face, and you became truly aware of his proximity.   Of him, of all that he was, all that he did.  His character, his hidden depths.
Your husband. 
It made your racing heart thunder something fierce, your blood pumping hotly, throbbing places you did not know were so sensitive. 
You desperately wondered what was on his mind.  The gears in his head were spinning and whirring, delaying his response.  Was he feeling the same tension?  Were his thoughts the same realization?
 My wife.  
“Yes,” he finally said. 
“Is there something I can do to help?” you asked.
His tattooed hand cupped your head, tilting it just so.  It made your lips part with a gasp, eyelids heavy with anticipation for a kiss. 
He took his time looking at you, like he was scrubbing all those bad memories away, replacing them with the flustered look on his aroused wife’s face. 
“Yes,” he said again, and kissed you for the first time. 
You were so glad he rebuffed your previous half-hearted advances, clumsy seductions made out of obligation rather than desire.  It was so different to that kiss.  You would not have known how to even ask for a kiss like that.  You never knew what you were missing. 
Your quiet husband and his multitudes.  All that simmering intensity, hot just below the surface of his icy demeanour, burned right through his skin.  His kiss was ravishing, entirely possessive, like he wished to take your whole essence into him and hold it forever. 
He walked you backwards.  With a snap of his wrist, he slid the door open the rest of the way, so sharp that it tried to bounce back.  He continued onward, kissing you until you were dizzy with it.   
He picked you up just to put you on the bed himself.  Your kiss separated only then as you landed with a bounce and a breath. 
He loomed over the edge of the bed, this man who was both stranger and husband, hero and villain.   He looked at you like he already loved you.  He looked at you and saw the reciprocation.  You had fallen for him without realizing you had ever even stumbled. 
He ran his hands through his hair, the sleek black locks fluttering back into place.  His eyes were still rivetted to your face, to your body.  You were wearing the nightdress you are wearing now.  It is why it became your favourite. 
He looked down at you, the material translucent enough to see the details of your body.   It broke through that last layer of ice.  He surrendered with a choked breath. 
He unclasped a holster on his thigh, dropped a knife that was hidden in a pocket.   Once unarmed, his hands went to his belt.  You watched those nimble, efficient fingers, swallowing hard.   You were aching to an embarrassing degree, undoubtedly obvious in your desires.  No one ever warned you it would feel like this, just being looked at, never mind touched.
Then his belt was on the floor and he touchedyou for real.   His calloused hands moved up your thighs, pushing the nightdress up and out of his way.  He climbed on top of you, swift as a feline, mouth descending onto yours with that same desperate hunger as before. 
Recollection makes you crave another kiss.   You think you will always be starving for more. 
“Hyunjin,” you whispered, hands on his face, his shoulders, down to his chest. 
He took your hands and laced your fingers with his, pinning those hands to the bed.   He kissed you again, long and slow.  It was all more sensual than desperate.
His voice, however, was desperate when he begged, “Let me make you feel good, please.”  He kissed down your face, your jaw, your throat.  “Please, my wife.”  He kissed further down still, through your nightdress, tracing the curve of your breast with his tongue, wetting the material and awakening every nerve beneath it.   “My wife,” he repeated. 
“My husband.”  The words left your lips in a dizzy, delirious whisper.   
It was all the confirmation he needed.  Those deft and skilled hands, so quick to assemble weapons and pull triggers, applied themselves with a startling gentleness.  He took you apart and put you together with the same efficient ease.   
He hooked his fingers in the only material between him and his desire, tugged it out of his way.  His fingers went to you, slipping through all that wetness.  Those intense eyes rolled back even though it was just his fingers inside you, then he closed his eyes like it was too much, and it seemed he had to temper himself, murmuring nonsense as he let his fingers sink into you. 
He kissed you again, drinking down every sigh and gasp and moan while he fucked you with his long fingers.  It was like he could taste your pleasure, like he was trying to get drunk on it, every noise you made filling his mouth.  He gave them back and brought you over a peak, first with his hands, then with his mouth.  He laid between your legs and put your thighs around his head, losing himself entirely in you. 
He did not remove a single article of your clothing nor his pants, not that first time.  He simply held the material to the side as he unzipped and finally got inside you.  It made your whole body keen, coming to life like it never had before.  You forgot all your sensibilities and let every wanton sound and action loose.
He responded in kind.  His kiss tasted like your pleasure, his heart pounding as fast as yours where your chests pressed together.  You were careful near his injured shoulder, fingertips dodging scars.  Your soft touch made him whimper, this powerful man entirely undone by a few caresses. 
His skin was hot and he worked up a sweat, but his stamina seemed endless.  He always wanted more. 
You fell asleep tucked in his arms, content to believe the walls had crumbled.   However, they revealed themselves in the morning light, as concrete as ever.  He slipped away and left a note to excuse his absence as he was called away to business.   You thought about phoning or messaging him, but those lines were not always secure, not for such intimate conversations. 
When he returned a few days later, he hid behind those concrete walls, but too much had changed.  There was now an awareness of your proximity and your distance.  The lack of intimacy was not called into question before, the absence of something being a nothing.  But now that nothing was something, or had been something for a moment, and it made you both very aware of how it was now missing – and anticipating always when it might again appear.
He tried very hard to keep away, to stay cordial at best, his habitual quietude even heavier than before.  But while his silence was significant, so was his glance.  Every time you turned around, he was already looking at you, a longing in his eyes and a thought on his lips that he never dared to speak aloud. 
You granted him some distance for a time.  When it became abundantly obvious he was holding himself in check, you realized that your own vulnerability was required to bridge the gap. 
One night you crossed through the bathroom, slid open the door on his side.  You found him at his desk, dressed down in a white dress shirt and pants.  His blazer was discarded on the floor, his face still made up. 
He stood quickly when you entered, though he didn’t say anything. 
It was strange to imagine this man would need any reassurance, but you felt that was the case.   His fingers fidgeted at his sides, his roving eyes studious.
You said nothing.  You approached him, laid your hands on his chest, and gently guided him back into his chair.  He sat slowly, his eyes on your face the entire time, even when he had to tip his head back to peer up at you. 
You ran your fingers through his hair.  When you entered the room, his face was tightly screwed in an expression of aggravation, but all those harsh lines softened as you traced a thumb down the sharp slope of his cheek. 
There were some wipes on his desk.  You took one and began to carefully remove that shield of dark make-up.  His hand lifted but not to stop you, simply to rest his palm on your waist.  He began to really touch you, feeling the shape of your body through your robe as you helped him come back to himself. 
“Hello,” you finally said, looking at his bare face.  Still impossibly beautiful.
“Hello,” he replied. 
His fingertips dipped towards the hem of the robe.  Before he could distract you with your own pleasure, you sunk to your knees in front of him.  This startled him, his hand frozen in the air as you fit yourself between his open knees. 
He caught your hand, his reflexes fast, before it could reach his fly.   You could see he was already affected, a heavy bulge in the black material making your mouth water and core tighten. 
He squeezed your hand and you looked up at his face.   He tipped his head, blinked rapidly, an expression of mild confusion.
You took your hand back and unknotted your robe.  The silk fell from your shoulders and down, sliding like water right off your body.  You were completedly naked underneath. 
It clarified everything, his confusion gone, replaced with surprise.
“You—” he began.  It was interrupted when you put your head in his lap, resting on his thigh.  You led his hand to the back of your neck and kissed him through his pants.  It made his fingers clasp tighter around you.  
“Please,” you said. 
He would never deny you anything.  Not the smallest gift nor grandest gesture.  When you started a new charity to further your combined philanthropic efforts, he spared no expense in aiding the endeavour.  You shared passions, and now you shared this.
He was stiff at the start, but gradually let himself go lax in his seat.  His hand kept a steady grip on the back of your neck, not guiding but holding, like he thought you might disappear otherwise.  He murmured your name, letting his head fall back as you worked him in your mouth. 
You intended to make him finish like that, seeking nothing for yourself at that precise moment.  He had other ideas, needing more of your shared pleasure to take him over that brink. 
He lifted your face, adjusted his pants, and was on his feet in a matter of seconds.  That hand on your neck dragged you up, up, up until your naked body was pressed against his clothed one.  He clung to you needily, claiming your mouth in a wanting kiss. 
His hands moved over you, every new inch of skin making him moan as he walked you towards the bed.  The kiss only broke when you both sat down, his lips against yours as he breathed, almost smiling, “My pretty wife.”
“Hyunjin,” you said, shaking your head, feeling suddenly shy just because of a simple compliment. 
He did not allow you to curl into yourself with any shame.  When you tried, he seized you, pulling you onto his lap so you straddled it.   His eyes moved up and down your body, hands following, from your thighs to hips to waist and up. 
 “What are you doing?” you said, laughing helplessly when he kissed somewhere ticklish on your throat.  The sound made him smile, even softer than before, though it turned a little wicked as his mouth went lower. 
“I’m simply enjoying the view,” he said, then wrapped his lips around the stiff peak of your breast, ran his tongue up and over.  He licked and kissed back up to your mouth.   “It’s not everyday I get to fuck someone so pretty.” 
As he said this, he opened his pants again, eyes on yours as he grabbed your thighs and moved you so he could thrust up into you.  His hips moved with a slow roll, letting you adjust to him.  It had been a little while, and this angle was different.
And Hyunjin is not small.  Your husband is built in perfect proportion, his body a long, hard, slender build – everything inside you at that moment was no exception.   This angle made you whimper, clinging to him like  he was a life preserver in a storm.  The roll of his hips kept coming like waves and you were sure you would drown otherwise. 
Your arms were around his neck, his graceful but strong hands digging into the meat of your thighs as he fucked you.  He felt impossibly deep, every upward stroke feeling like it was bursting past something, pushing everything inside your body up to your throat. 
You swallowed again and again, the taste of him still on your lips, the feel of him inside every inch of you.  You clenched and tightened involuntarily, just pure animal reaction, and it made him moan and find all those sweet spots to make it happen again.    
“Help,” was your somewhat nonsensical request, blurted in the midst of some moaning babbling.
Fortunately, he was and is a smart man.  He understood.  He clasped you tight to his body and fell back on the bed, thrusting up into you with sharper, more focussed determination, faster until you were weeping on his chest, delirious with pleasure.  His shirt was unbuttoned and you accidentally ripped a few buttons right off, trying to press your face to bare skin. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” you said as you tumbled over a height you never reached before.  You never knew you could come just from that, stimulated somewhere so deep inside you, but it made you come undone in his arms. 
He watched you unravel and it made him follow, clinging to you as he just barely pulled out before coming between your dripping thighs.  It was all so messy and wet, your legs trembling, but it felt so good that it hardly mattered. 
He caught his breath, then looked at your face just lose that breath again.  He moaned and dragged you in for another kiss.
Then you were on your back, the night far from over. 
That second night is the one that truly opened the door to more.  Though your husband can be reticent in other regards, he is not quiet when he is inside you.  You have come together again and again, a conversation with your bodies as you look for pleasure in a dangerous world.   You always find it, tucked in the protective circle of his arms, wrapped around every inch of him. 
You have been out of his arms for too long.  Your visit to your family grew tedious before long.  Your home is with Hyunjin now and you were eager to return. 
Now it seems you may never see it again.  You may never see him again. 
No.
Just like the night when you took control for yourself, you must take control now.  You realize if anything is to happen, then you must take the reins of your own rescue.  You would not want Hyunjin to compromise himself or his important business.  You know if something bad happened to you, it would weigh on his conscious, even if it was the better business decision.  You must eliminate the need for choice. 
It turns out, comical rope bindings are truly best suited for silly movies.  When the men come to check on you again, you have slipped free of your bindings.  There was an array of weapons in the room, so carelessly disposed because the assailants never assumed you would get free – or, if you did get free, that you would not know how to use them. 
It is true, you do not like violence. 
That does not mean you do not understand it. 
You leave the two men unconscious in their basement.  Unfortunately, you cannot find your suitcase and you do not want to hang around, so you venture outside in your nightgown.  You are debating your next move when a car pulls into the driveway. 
You back away quickly, raising the gun you stole as more men get out of the vehicle.  You only stay your hand because you recognize one of them, though it takes a second to place him as one of Hyunjin’s lieutenants. 
Then Hyunjin emerges.   You have seen your husband before and after a confrontation, but never during it.  If you thought he was an intimidating figure in the aftermath, he is all danger and darkness as he storms up the driveway now.   There is such an energy radiating from him, it makes you stumble and forget yourself entirely. 
Then he stumbles, recognizing you.  You are both startled, staring at each other with the gun raised between you. 
He looks nowhere but your eyes. 
“Hyunjin?” you finally say. 
“I—”  He looks at you, the gun, the nightdress.  He shakes his head.  Some of that bravado returns when he says, “I’m here to save you.”
“Ah,” you say.  You slowly lower the gun, at a loss how to reply.  You were so resigned to the idea this was all still business.  The reality of your husband risking himself to rescue you from unknown hostiles is making your heart pound.  
In the end, all you can think to say is, “Sorry.  You’re late.” 
That wicked smile crosses his face, his tongue pushing at the corner of his mouth.  He is suddenly nothing but amused, looking at you, then at the house.
“I can see that,” he says. 
He whistles sharply and gestures to the house with a gloved hand.  His lieutenants run past you and charge the door, no doubt heading inside to finish the job you started.        
You turn to watch them go.  In your distraction, Hyunjin grabs your arm.  He is fast, effectively disarming you.  He catches the gun with a twirl before tossing it aside.
It is not the gun he wants; it’s you.
Still holding your wrist, he tugs you into him.  You throw your arms around him.  The hug is surprisingly chaste, his face in your neck as he squeezes you like it is the only thing keeping him alive and standing.
“Are you hurt?” he asks. 
When in his arms, it seems impossible to consider you could ever feel any pain. 
You shake your head, daring to kiss his cheek.  He turns his face to yours, your lips close enough to brush in a swipe. 
“I’m all right now,” you say.  “Sorry I beat you to the punch.  I – I wasn’t sure if—”
His brow crinkles.  That gloved hand goes from your wrist to your chin, seizing it between thumb and forefinger.  He tips your head so he can look at your face.  He always regards you like he does one of his masterpieces, like he can never get his fill, like there is always something new to find.  He is enchanted every time. 
“You’re mine,” he says.  “And I take care of what belongs to me.” 
You gasp when those fingers go from your chin to your throat, just enough to pull you in that last breath of a space.  He kisses you there in the sunlight, utterly shameless. 
“Do not ever doubt that,” he says.  His eyes are soft with his affection, but his voice is hard, skirting the edge of a threat he would issue an adversary.  It makes you tingle from head to toe.  “Do I need to remind you?” 
You never actually answer.  You are not sure if your answer would have made a difference, as Hyunjin is determined to show you the very second you are home. 
You reach the penthouse. There is no time to shower or decompress once you cross the threshhold.  He sweeps you off your feet, your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist.  You are wearing his blazer over your nightdress to preserve your modesty – not that it will last long.
He carries you to the bedroom where so many slow and subtle exchanges took place.  Now, he is not slow or subtle.  He is a force of nature.   He tells you that he held no greater fear than losing you and he tried to keep his distance, but he regretted it the moment he saw you on that video call. 
“You’re my wife,” he says, peeling his blazer off your body.  “I’m your husband.  There is nothing I should be holding back.” 
“Yes,” you say, running your fingers through that smooth black hair.  You shiver as he bunches the fabric of your nightdress, the material spilling over his fingers.   “Don’t hold back,” you say, mouth open against his, stealing his every breath.   “Do whatever you want.” 
He tells you exactly what he wants, using his words for a change, finally letting those walls come down.  He whispers every filthy thought into your ear, between kisses, between bites.   You shiver at every suggestion. 
And so, moments later, he is sitting on your bed.  He arranges you to lay across his lap, facedown in the pillows while he runs his hands down your spine and over the curve of your ass. 
“You’re my wife,” he says.  The first tap of his open palm is through the thin material of your nightdress.  It is truly just a warning tap, just enough to make you bounce.  “Don’t ever doubt me again,” he says, swinging that strong hand a little harder.  
This time a yelp escapes your lips.  You wriggle until he pins you down, a hand on the back of your neck and the other lifting your dress.   He already stripped your underthings, his open palm smoothing down all that bare skin.  
You tingle with anticipation, braced yet still unprepared for the sharp smack he next delivers.  You feel it tingle all the way up to your head, as well as the next one, and the next.   You squirm under his firm grip, groaning his name as your thighs get tense and press together. 
“Don’t say my name,” he says, and smacks you again.  “Who am I?”
“M-my husband,” you say, practically mewling like a kitten when he next brings his hand down.  “My husband,” you say again. 
“And you are—”
“Your wife,” you say, though it comes out almost like a sob, a desperate gasp as he slips his fingers between your thighs and finds a new way to torture you.   With your backside hot and stinging, the pleasure of his hand in that sensitive place feels amplified by a tenfold. 
“Husband,” you say, hips bucking.  His free hand goes from the back of your neck to your lower spine, holding you in his lap as he slowly finger-fucks you.
“Yes?” he says.
You do not even remember what you were going to say, or beg, or plead.  You are overcome with sensation, tingling all over, intensifying the press of his fingers as he curls his fingers into that soft, soft place.  Then you are really squirming, helplessly, instinctively, whining into the pillows. 
“I make you feel good,” he says.  “I take care of you.  You, who are so good, and so smart, but so—”
You cry out when he angles his hand just a little differently.  Your vision swims with stars as he speeds up. 
“So soft,” he says, his own voice going soft, just a whisper as he makes you come all over his hand in a throbbing, aching, desperate wet mess.  “Just for me,” he says in that whisper.  “Just for your husband.” 
“Mmmf,” is all the response you have left in you. 
Your thighs are trembling and your pussy throbbing with aftershocks when he picks you up.  He stands and turns, laying you on your side in the bed.  You are grateful, as your backside still stings, though you suspect he is not done yet.
He strips out of his clothes, tearing through his shirt, leaving the pants in a heap.  He forgets to remove his necklace.  All that silver is cold against your hot skin as he lays down behind you.   You do not have time to linger on it, as he gathers up the hem of your dress and adjusts himself behind you. 
He has taken you many times, in many ways, many positions.   When you are on your hands and knees, he is overtaken by a primal urge, your hips as leverage in his hands as he pounds into you like it is a chase.   When you are on your back, he sinks into you slowly and deeply, rocking his hips into yours like he intends to fuck you forever.  When you are in his lap, he rolls his hips in steady, needy waves, captivated by the sight of you in his arms. 
He lays behind you now and wraps his arms around you, coaxes your thighs apart.  Your nightdress is bunched every which way, leaving nothing to the imagination, and you feel especially exposed and vulnerable in this position somehow.  Perhaps it is the fact he is the one holding you open, keeping you in position so he can take you.
You let yourself fall into it, fall into him.  You let him tell you, with words and actions, exactly how he feels. 
Before it ends, you change position.  He lays back and you straddle his hips while stripping off your dress entirely.  He keeps rolling up into you, only stopping when you plant your hands on his chest to slow him down.  Then he practically sinks in the mattress, murmuring your name.  His make-up is smudged, his calloused hands rough on your body.  Whatever pains you experienced have been overtaken by his hands, by the smarting on your backside, still tender as you bring your body down onto his again and again.  He has completely claimed you for himself and you take the same in turn. 
“Hyunjin,” you say.  “My husband, oh—”
He kisses your hand, long and hard, like he needs his mouth on some part of you desperately.  Your fingers are curled into his pretty mouth when he comes, his hands on your hips and his cock buried inside you. 
“Oh,” is your final sound before you slump on top of him, skin to skin. 
He rolls you onto your side, though he keeps you wrapped around him, his arms around you in turn.  His hair is already a sweaty mess and you rub your thumb through some of his shadowy make-up, but those familiar dark eyes are gazing at you with so much warmth.   There is no more ice, no more cold concrete. 
“I should let you rescue me more often,” you say with a laugh. 
He doesn’t laugh back, but he does smile softly.  It should be incongruous with his severe appearance, but it somehow comes together, layers of him exposed all at once as he strokes your cheek.
He looks at you like his favourite work of art. 
“You were the one who rescued you,” he says.   “Just like you rescued me.” 
You cannot find the words to reply, so you kiss him.  It speaks volumes, and he replies, kissing back. 
You lose yourself to the sweetness, to the heat, to the passion, to all those things more, knowing there are many more to come with this man as your husband. 
1K notes · View notes
slightly-knot-insane · 2 months ago
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Loving your writing and saw that you’re accepting asks!
I have this thought about monster boyfriend of some sort who is desperate to have sex but you’re hesitant/nervous because he’s so big/will knot you. He reassures you and says that he’ll put in just the tip to ease you into it and then you’re both going crazy for it and he goes feral and thrusts the whole thing in/pops his knot in you
I'm so happy to hear this! Especially since English is not my first language (if that isn't painfully obvious lol). Thank you for this incredibly excellent ask!
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Hidden in the Basement
[ m!monster x fem!reader ]
You could hear him in the basement. It was that time of the year - he goes into rut and he simply... needs his alone time. He always kisses you, lingering just a tad bit longer than usual, and retreats downstairs.
You stand outside the door. He is trying to stay as quiet as he can, muffling his groans and heavy breathing, but he's too loud. Too pent up.
You want to help him. He is almost frenzied when in rut and sometimes hurts himself or the others. He recognizes you, of course, but there is something in his behavior that scares you. Although - you bite your lip - not in a necessarily bad way.
You notice the basement is too quiet. Is he okay? You try the door handle - surprisingly, he didn't lock himself in. Perhaps he forgot? You go downstairs, as quietly as possible. It is almost too dark to see, but you can't turn on the light - you shouldn't be here after all.
He is kneeling on the floor, his huge pulsating cock in one hand as he is trying to get off. It is out of the sheath, a big bulbous knot at the base, and leaking glans on the top. His other hand is holding your panties. He is sniffing and biting them while jacking off. The fabric is completely damp.
Your face burns from embarrassment. Somehow you feel you shouldn't have seen this. Maybe you could sneak outside without him noticing? But... do you want to? You've never seen him like this, barely human, his limbs different and longer and stronger, his neck wider, his tail more flexible. It was him, but not completely. Also his cock... it changed in a rather interesting way.
He finally senses you and his eyes snap open, his pupils dangerously dilating.
"I'm sorry!" You panic and try running upstairs. You barely climb two steps before he grabs you from behind and lifts you. You yelp in surprise. He carries you downstairs and, without letting you go, kisses you. Everything about him is different, even his embraces. They are so intense, more consuming, needy. More feral. His hands quickly remove all your clothes and his fingers find your breasts.
"Wait," you gasp. "You are so big. I can't..."
He nibbles your neck, his large hands cupping your ass cheeks. "I need you. I will be careful, I promise. Let me have you a little bit or I'll go mad." His voice mutated into more dominant, animalistic one. You whimper as his finger finds your pussy and pushes against your entrance. "Not wet enough."
In one easy move, he lifts you up in front of his face and places your knees over his shoulders. Once your pussy is perfectly leveled with his large mouth, he proceeds to eat you out like a starving animal.
"Aaaah... aaah..." You wiggle and pant, sensations too overwhelming. But he firmly holds you in place. His tongue reaches places no toy or his human form ever reached. It circles around your clit and pumps into your entrance, swelling and pulsating. Your boyfriend pleasures you until you're soaking wet and trembling, and then lowers you just above his massive cock. "Please!" you scream, intimidated by the knot. "I can't do it..."
"I will put just the tip in," he reassures you. "I would never hurt you."
He sounds like your old wonderful boyfriend and you slightly relax in his arms. The way he kisses you by biting your lips, licking your face and sliding his long tongue deep into your throat is truly something special. Distracting you with his mouth, he slowly forces his glans into your pussy. It glides easily, and you both moan.
"You are so..." he whispers under his breath. "So tight. So amazing."
He barely enters and immediately lifts you up again. He is breathing heavily and sweating, his muscles trembling. You know it's not because he can't hold you like this - he is barely controlling himself, trying not to impale you on his massive cock.
"More..." You whine, his monster phallus rubbing against your wet walls. "Give me more."
He grunts happily and let's you slide down. He fills you completely, holding you safely with his arms. "Fuck... Can I go faster?"
"Yes please." Your blood is already boiling, nerves vibrating from incoming orgasm.
He starts bouncing you up and down, only pushing the half of his length inside. It doesn't feel uncomfortable. He is stretching you bit by bit, and immediately pulling out. His grunts and panting, and your moaning surround your sweating bodies. "Fuck... Fuck..." you both pant into each other's ear.
"Harder," you moan and his hips start jerking upwards when his arms lower you down. The impact is so much stronger, more intense, more ecstatic. After just a few thrusts, you climax and scream into your hands. You are so loud, it's embarrassing.
"No, let me hear you. Scream more for me. "
He speeds up, your pussy contracting around his cock and you can only moan and whimper from your overwhelming prolonged orgasm. He presses you against his chest, growling like a beast, and jerks his hips upwards. There is some sudden pain, but pleasure too, and you cry out.
His low moans become louder as he pounds you. Your entire body feels his body, all around you and inside you. Finally, with a hard thrust, he grunts into your hair and forces you even harder against his body. Hot liquid enters deeply into your womb. It feels amazing.
With panting and drooling all over you, your boyfriend lets your torsos separate. But nothing else.
"I knotted in you. I can't pull out." He sounds both happy and worried. You look down and see a big bulge from your swollen pussy all the way to your navel. And finally you realize his whole monster cock entered you including the knot. "I'm sorry," he says.
It doesn't hurt too much. It's a bit sore, sure. With little practice, you are sure you could do this every day. The thought makes your pussy throb. He feels that and looks at you curiously.
With a sly smile, you rub the tip of his cock through your skin and it twitches. "Sorry? I'm upset we haven't tried this sooner. No need to hide in the basement from me ever again." Realizing what you said, he happily purrs and embraces you.
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angelyuji · 2 months ago
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ford pines dating headcanons
18+!!! minors dni!!
cw // sexual content under the cut
cutie patootie
FIT AS FUCKKKKK
writes about you in his journal like first time he sees you, first date, every single thought about you? journaled!!
he wanted to ask you out but he was sooo nervous you would reject him, especially considering how young and pretty you are
he was scared you would laugh at him for trying
so he didn’t try :(
so when you showed up at the mystery shack and asked him out to dinner, he would’ve jumped for joy
“you-you’re asking me? on a date?” ford stares at you, mouth open. you tilt your head in confusion and ford almost melts. he clears his throat, “i-i would love to, (y/n). thank you.” ford blushes.
your first date was cute, he was so flustered and so nervous
i feel like he calls you by your name, sometimes by your last name, sometimes like ms/mr. last name. idk he’s silly like that
HE loves pet names tho, he lovessss pet names
when you call him love, baby, sweetheart, anythingggg he loves it
he especially loves when you call him sir like in any context
idk he’s silly like that :)
literally the sweetest man in the world
constantly thinking about you and talking about you
constantly creating new things/inventions for you
he would start writing up the mock-up of a project or an experiment and start thinking about you and then end up making something he thinks you’d like
sooo down bad for u dude, would give you the world if you asked
i feel like bill would find his love for you either fascinating or be so insanely jealous that you’ve got ford wrapped around your finger like that’s his man
imo the only solution is a threesome
WHAATTT WHO SAID THAT…. some of these artists draw bill so fine that i cant help it
he loves when you’re passionate about something! it doesn’t have to be mysteries and monsters, but just something that makes you yap (but he also loves when you listen to him talk, he’s more of a talker than a listener but he will listen to you)
yk that scene in those cliché romcoms… idk how to describe it so ill just put it into dialogue
‘gorgeous’ ford hums as you talk, the way your lips move, your expressions, everything hypnotizes him. ‘gorgeous’ he can’t help, but be enamored with you. you’re smart, kind, and passionate. “gorgeous” you stop and look at him.
“thank you?” you tilt your head at his words and his eyes went wide. he sputters as you laugh.
can have moments of smooth talk and flirting but the moment you reciprocate, he’s red in the face and stuttering
need him carnally, need him ways that even god will not allow me into heaven
switch!!!
he can do both i fear
he’s okay with you on top or him, definitely depends on his mood
like i said, FIT AS FUCK, whatever he’s been doing in that portal has treated him well
not insecure about his body more insecure about his lack of experience
he never talks about it about the stuff from before
he did a lot of research in positions, toys, and stuff like that
you had to tell him to calm down and take it slow
he’s more into giving pleasure than receiving
he wants you to feel good more than he wants to feel good
if you feel good, he feels good ykwim?
hes sooo pathetic tbh like begging, pleading, to eat you out like he wants it so bad
his glasses would fog up as you guys make out and he whips them off like sung-hoon does in business proposal
honestly that entire scene in business proposal?? ford.
hgnhhghghgngngnhgn i need him i feel ill
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squiddy-god · 3 months ago
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HSR men and manhandling
Manhandling HCS pt one?
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Ok so this is actually just because i have lust in my heart lmao- this came to me in a dream so buckle up, i am definitely willing to do more characters because i have thoughts- reminder that i often write smut from an afab perspective but that its gn! Because i am a trans man so ftm reader you guys are my faves <3 this is for everyone tho. These are lowkey long-
♥︎REQUEST ARE OPEN ♥︎
ARGENTI, BOOTHILL, DR RATIO, JING YUAN 
Cw: smut, suggestive content to just straight smut, man handling,dom!/top characters. Established relationship, biting, no pronouns (afab anatomy), implied chubby/bigger reader, PDA, slight exhibitionism, mentions of bath sex,mentions of oral (m & f receiving)  Description of touching hair (no texture described), aftercare is given even if not fully described  i have so many thoughts 
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Argenti 
Ok hear me out-
He doesn't do it on purpose, argenti to his core is a gentle lover
But he's a knight of beauty and quite strong, throwing around a huge spear as if it was nothing, effortlessly defeating monsters in his pursuit of beauty
And until you, he traveled alone, you are truly a blessing from Idrila and who is he to refuse such a blessing. 
Argenti naturally just waxes poetry to everyone and everything, it ramps up with you, it's more tender and loving. The other thing is that he's more physical, kissing a lock of your hair, the back of your hands, embracing you, dancing with you etc. this is where the problems is (its not a problem i NEED this man)
Argenti doesn't often show physical affection with anyone besides his beloved (you) so he sometimes forgets his strength, and while he could NEVER dream of handling you in any way except with tender care and the touch of a gentleman 
He ends up manhandling you. 
Argenti also loves you with everything, sex is special, its connection, it is devotion 
And he is DEVOTED 
Gently grasping your hand and waist to pull you into his embrace simply so he can admire you? The force is enough to (literally) almost sweep you off your feet
Drawing your body close to his, the music drowning out the noise you make as he moves you to dance with him. 
It's like you weigh nothing to him, he can simply move you however he wants.
Often sweeps you off your feet because he forgets that most can't just sweep you into one arm while the other cradles your face. 
What's hot about it is that he is literally manhandling you with such a tender expression you almost forget the way his hands grip your hips as if argenti is trying to commit the feeling of your plush body to his memory (he is) 
Argenti is a giver in the bedroom, but the manhandling continues 
Asks before he does literally anything- can he move your hips up? Can he kiss you? What do you need from him? 
But once he has your consent on permission THIS MAN FOLD YOU IN HALF
If he's giving you head/eating you out? Consider your legs PINNED DOWN, once you tell him that he can finally have a taste he is dragging you across the soft sheets of his bed and DIVORCING your legs. 
His favorite position for eating you out is him sitting on the bed with your legs slung over his shoulders and a bruising grip on your hips and thighs holding you up like its nothing, he likes it because it makes it so easy for you to look up at him while he maintains the most loving eye contact you have ever received. 
Back to Argenti folding you in half- he will be balls deep in you panting and huffing while he's practically slamming into you, his hands grabbing at any part of you he can reach, tummy, thighs, love handles- anything. He let out a breathy moan asking to move you “just a bit” and when you nod your head with a whine he's dragging you closer and throwing one leg over shoulder before leaning down to ask for a kiss, practically pressing your knee to your shoulder. 
Always is so shocked at how sore you are despite the fact he was bending and folding you like origami- he truly doesn't realize just how much he throws you around.  
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Boothill
It wasn't intentional…at first
Once he realizes just how much he man handles you (and how hot and bothered it gets you) it is 100% intentional 
He is a menace and is unashamed of anything
His metal body is a lot stronger than a human body is so there is a lot more that he can do
Boothill is unashamed, he dosn’t give a fuge who sees, in fact- a more possessive side of him is very happy to see the the stares he garners with his hands around your waist practically dragging you along with his long strides
Boothill’s two favorite activities include pulling you towards him by the waist, and holding you there when you try to squirm away as he bites and nibbles your cheeks
Traveling with boothill is dangerous so shootouts with ipc and any other bounties he's hunting aren't uncommon, neither are hasty escapes where he hoists you up and slings you over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes
Honestly him throwing you over his shoulder isn't uncommon even if it's not for a hasty escape
Oh the cyborg sees you talking to someone he thinks is getting a little too friendly? He doesn't care how much you protest he is dragging you away 
Back to the shootouts, if he sees your gonna get punched, shot or otherwise harmed he is pulling and pushing you all over the place like a ragdoll after all his reflexes are a lot quicker than yours so 
Another one who likes to dance (did you see those moves) and he’s not even sorry as he pulls you against him to dance, laughing as he moves you. 
The more boothill knows you like being manhandled the more he does it- sometimes it's really just to tease you
Pinning you down in your cair before letting you get up, all while hes laughing at how flustered you get
Boothill’s manhandling isn't so much about folding you in half but more so keeping you there- 
He loves to throw you onto the bed- after he's hauled you off from a far to friendly chap, or a gunfight he will throw you onto the bed as you bounce slightly 
This mostly happens once you are both safe from a bounty or gunfight- artificial adrenaline pumping through the tubes he calls veins and it has him itching to have you 
Pinning your hands above your head and kissing you with a little too much teeth
Dirty lip biter
He bites his lips when he's pissed off (often) and when he kisses you (also often) so you should both invest in chapstick because your lips are bit to high hell by the time boothill pulls away
Big big fan of fucking you against a wall- might as well put this metal bod to work in his opinion, and what a better way to use it than to grab fistfulls of thigh and ass while your legs rest on his cold hips? 
Its perfect because he only needs one arm to hold you up, the other free to roam and pinch where he wants 
Chronic ass slapper
If he sees an opportunity to smack your ass he. Is. taking. It. 
You alway know because you hear the clink of his boots and the accessories against him and the loud wolf whistle he lets out.
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Dr.ratio 
The good doctor is somewhat oblivious 
He acknowledges that sometimes he dose move you in a way that would be considered manhandling but is mostly unaware of the effect it has on you
The difference with ratio is that so much of  his manhandling is in a domestic way, 
Oh he needs a mug for his tea and you are doing something in front of the counter where the cabinet is? Prepare for a stong hand on you waist and he moves you to the side like you are little to no obstacle
Oh you are getting swept up in the crowd? Fear not for veritas places a hand on the small of your back to guide you with him as he practically cuts through the crowds. Really its more of pushing you but really whos complaining?
Personally i am a fan of men who are closet/secret FREAKS and veritas ratio is a freak
I think hes rather possessive in the sense that while he is wholly confident and secure in himself and you- afterall why would you leave him for some idiot 
It is a small irrational feeling that plays into the fact he is quick to annoyance and anger 
The temper of the dr is well know tho very rarely directed at you 
It is moment like this that hes more hands, his hand a death grip on your shoulder or the plush softness of your waist as his words cut harshly to the person getting to friendly 
You are HIS idiot (affectionate) 
One of the best (read: hottest) things to watch him do is sculpt. I hc that beyond stone and marble ratio also dables in clay and pottery (im bias)
Watching this man wedge clay is an ✨experience ✨, his thick toned arms that flex with earth movement, the way his back is pulled taught and his palms press the clay against the surface.
Hes practically leaning over it and grunting (wedging clay is an arm workout) . I mean how could you not watch that slack jawed wondering when it's your turn? (i'm gonna write suggestive ration on the wheel) 
IN THe BATH?? Not enough ratio bath sex in my life tbh but this man is aughhhhhh
Ratio likes his baths, warm relaxing water and a good book? Perfect 100 points. Having you with your back pressed against his chest? Extra credit 
Dr ratios love languages are info dumping and acts of service change my mind. He likes to be useful, a deep seeded need to help people, and especially you. He likes to wash you in the bath, from washing your hair to scrubbing you clean he wants to help so just relax into putty in his arms 
He doesn't hesitate to turn and maneuver you however he needs to scrub and clean you and he manhandles you because you're a bit slippery. His grip is more firm (when is it not?) 
One thing he does slightly unintentionally is turning your face/head to face him/look him in the eyes. His hands grab your jaw or squish your cheeks as he turns you to look at him making sure you are paying 100% attention 
Same with kisses, a firm hand at the nape of the neck pressing you further into him. 
Guess what? Its your turn because this touch starved man is grabby it isnt a want he needs to be grabign at anything he can rach his hands practically kneading your soft flesh while you get flipped and folded. 
This man is a dr…he knows all the angles that make you writhe and he intends to exploit them even if he has to pull out and fold you in half before pushing himself back in 
Big fan of pressing down while kneading your stomach right where he knows his cock is so deep inside you 
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Jing yuan 
The lazy general 100% dose it on purpose, hiding behind that warm grin despite his actions 
Most of the time he is very gentle, but there are times when his work becomes rather taxing and he needs a small break 
The small break being waiting for you to walk close enough only for his strong arms to wrap around you and pull you down into his lap where you will NOT be leaving 
This is his main form of man handling, pulling you into his lap and holding you in his iron grip
Big fan of naps and he will often pull you into the optimal sleeping/cuddle position whenever he gets the chance to
Oh your arm is falling asleep? Don't worry he just picks you up and maneuvers you to basically lay on top of him
He lights the weight of your body, his very own weighted and heated blanket 
He plays the fool but there is a distinct twinkle in his golden eyes when he sees the way you grow flustered whining about how your in his office and-
But it doesn't matter to him because he needs this- so just stay in his lap a little longer 
He's even worse in bed- his work keeps him busy so he feel that he needs to compensate by absolutely rocking your world
Really it depends on the time of day- ironically you get manhandled more in the mornings when he wakes up hard and absolutely aching for you
In the mornings when you are both still sleepy he drags you closer to him, kissing up your shoulder and neck until he has you begging for him in that morning voice he finds so irresistible, 
Wastes no time spooning you, letting out a groan as he slides inside you and rocks you against him- his hands have a firm bruising grip on your hips as he rocks you against him with force 
One hand remains on your hip to keep up the punishing pace while the other holds your jaw so you twist to kiss him- and he cant get enough, he slams you back against him rougher and rougher until you are both satisfied and he is all but forced out of your shared bed. 
The second is at night when he has you on top of him, riding him while his hands grab your ass and thighs, throwing your weight around while he looks up at you with the same lazy grin he always has
As if he isn't bouncing you along his length just waiting for you to stutter from the burn in your legs- all an excuse to pick you up and pin you back against the bed under him- 
All an excuse to be able to leave open mouth kisses against your skin while he has his fill of your pillowy softness 
In summary he knows exactly what he's doing and he knows exactly how riled up you get when he uses just a little of his strength on you. 
Don't let the drowsy grin on his face fool you. Menace through and though 
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madlori · 6 months ago
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On Tommy Kinard
"It's not that I don't like Buck and Tommy, it's just happening so fast, he's underdeveloped!"
*clears throat*
Here is a recap of what we know about Tommy. And this is just off the top of my head, I didn't rewatch anything.
He was closeted at the 118 before and found the atmosphere repressive. He (probably) acted like a dick to fit in. When presented with the chance to make things better, he took it, and developed positive relationships with Hen, Chim and Bobby.
He was in the army and trained there as a pilot.
He knows Muay Thai and has a set up in his house.
He likes to work on cars and has a lift at his house (where TF does he live is my question - he has some nerve being agog at Buck's loft if he has a muay thai gym and a car lift)
He is down for violating departmental policy at the drop of a hat (has done so on at least two occasions) to help a friend and has no problems fucking with the fire chief.
He is a nerd. He likes pub trivia and has incorrect Star Wars opinions, and can keep up with Chim in the movie-quoting department.
His favorite movie is "Love, Actually" and he likes craft beer and monster trucks.
He came out when he transferred to Harbor and felt comfortable enough to stop lying about who he was.
He follows MMA and has friends in Vegas who like him well enough to hook him up to a frankly insane degree.
He'll risk his own life and engage in helicopter skulduggery to save people he doesn't know...I mean, apart from doing that for a living.
He'll take time out of his day to give a tour to the cute boy who called him up and offer to give that boy flying lessons (a significant time investment) which was probably maybe about more one on one time with said boy.
He yearns for the belonging and found family that the 118 became after his departure and probably befriended Eddie hoping to earn a plate at the cookout, aside from just clicking with him.
He likes Eddie and Chris a lot and they like him. Chimney also likes him.
He was attracted to Buck right away and was emotionally aware enough to pick up on Buck's jealous feelings over Eddie and his friendship, even if he was surprised that it was him Buck wanted to get to know.
He respects and values Buck and Eddie's friendship and wanted to make sure Buck knew that.
He's brave enough to shoot his shot by planting one on a dude.
He's a lil bitchy but also generous and ready to throw in with this insane guy who's inviting him to a family wedding after 0.5 dates.
He showed up to a bachelor party when he was on call because Buck asked him to, then showed up in turnouts after fighting a fire for like 12 hours yadda yadda we all know this part.
He has got it BAD for one Evan Buckley, who he only calls "Evan" which according to LFJR is a conscious decision by the writers, which fascinates me.
He was willing to take a chance with a man just discovering his sexuality BUT wasn't willing to put himself through that if the man in question wasn't ready for it. When Buck showed him that he was, he was all in.
He does NOT take his coffee like that.
Oh and
He's a beast.
This is VASTLY more information than we knew about ANY of Buck's previous girlfriends with the possible exception of Abby. Even Taylor did not get this much development over 20 episodes (things we knew about her: she was an ambitious and ethically flexible reporter, did not eat fudge, had a dad in jail, and sometimes jogged for exercise, she was capable of being nice and did love Buck, I believe). And as for it being fast? Sometimes it just be like that? A relationship doesn't have to have year(s) of buildup. Sometimes people do just meet, like each other, and start dating, in fact in the real world that's usually what happens. It's in TV Land that you have to have eighteen seasons of UST before pulling the trigger. Most of the time in reality people just vibe off each other and decide to go out and THEN they learn about each other.
And they've got a great start. You'd think they'd barely spoken by how a few naysayers are talking about it - the loft scene was like a solid five minutes of very open conversation, the Cringe Date seemed to have gone well and again, open and honest (if cringey) conversation before Cockblocker Eddie showed up, and the coffee meetup was again....open and honest conversation. They're not gonna show us long scenes of them exchanging firefighting stories and workout preferences (I mean, I'd watch that, but it's not what the show is about).
In conclusion, anyone saying he's poorly developed or the relationship is "out of nowhere" either is being willfully obtuse or has ridiculously unrealistic expectations for relationships and/or what constitutes character development.
As for whether they have chemistry, that's a matter of subjective opinion. Given that a TON of people watched that harbor tour scene (even when it was posted as a sneak peek) and started going "wait...what's going on here...are they flirting??" might be a clue. People were talking about Bi!Buck maybe happening with Tommy based solely off that clip of the harbor tour and what they were seeing between them. And imho that loft scene was crackling. But we all see things through the lenses of our biases, myself included.
Got that off my chest, whew.
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prokopetz · 1 year ago
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I don't think every sword and sorcery fantasy RPG needs D&D-style mimics, but I do think there's value in having something that's incongruously carnivorous, just to keep players on their toes. Pack-hunting rabbits that swarm their prey. Ambush predator sheep. Yes, monsters you can have stupid arguments with are a cornerstone of the genre, but sometimes you've just got to hit 'em with some seemingly innocuous critter which uncomplicatedly wants to eat faces.
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