#sorry for the ramble just having thoughts

[zubzooks]

unpopular opinion I think but I really like the whole “loop will never be siffrin again” thing

like what if through body craft or some other wish they are now given the chance to choose who they want to be. I mean after going through what they did it would be understandable as hell for them to not feel attached to being the person they were before all of it. not to mention we have no idea how much/little they remember, we know they remember the information present in the loops and some stuff about their relations to the party members.

but like… think about them finally getting the chance to choose for themselves who they want to be. try to fit themselves back into a universe they didn’t initially belong in, on their own terms as a new person. I think they deserve the chance to get to do that, not feel tied to the trauma of what they “should/could have been.” I think a conversation with isa would help them start to come to terms with the idea to let go of the past.

Course it’s not gonna be easy at first. Loop to me struggles with depersonalization like CRAZY so asking them to imagine an ideal self is pretty much impossible at first. That new self gets built slowly over time, through experimentation and through just learning again about themselves.

[telephoniii]

hello! I saw your requests were open, so here I am :3 could I get the dorm leaders reacting to yuu/reader having random bruises? they are just from human stuff- like running into things by accident, dropping stuff, etc. but I think it would be interesting to think what they would assume first other than that! sorry for rambling n I give you my best wishes!

ACCIDENT-PRONE

☆彡 in which you find yourself getting hurt a lot

dorm leaders x GN!reader

word count: 200 per character

tags: pre-relationship, possible ooc, reader is prefect, first impressions

a/n: im going to try and post at least once a week but no promises. also im always getting random cuts and bruises that i have no idea how they get there. i hope you enjoy :>

riddle rosehearts

Riddle assumes you're doing it on purpose. No one could be that clumsy. You'll probably break a rule with how much stuff you accidentally run into or drop. And he'll definitely scold you for it. His tune starts to change the more he gets to know you. He will still always be the first one to chastise you, but also the first to get you bandaids and ice. He's worried honestly. He hates seeing you so bruised, even if it's from mundane things. Riddle will try to be more strict with you. If you're under harsher rules, there's a less likely chance of you getting injured, correct? Nope. You still find a way. At some point he stops trying to enforce so much onto you and instead shifts his focus to patching your wounds. He'll be making sure it gets properly iced! Even if it's a minor bruise. During unbirthday parties, he's going to be glued to your side. The thought of you accidentally breaking glass from a teapot or cup frightens him too much. If you call him out on it he'll flush a bright red out of embarrassment and explode on you a bit, saying that he wouldn't need to be doing all of this if you could just be more careful. Yeah, it's better to just silently appreciate his care. Because he does care, a lot. He's just bad at saying it.

leona kingscholar

The first few times he can brush it off as you being reckless. Most in Savanaclaw are. But once he spots a pattern? He thinks it's so funny. He'll sit you down in front of him and point at random bruises and scars saying, "What's this one from?" Then he'll proceed to laugh at you when you say you just tripped and ate shit. He knows you're tough enough to handle yourself. Don't let him touch any of the bruises. He'll press down on them purposely. If it makes you feel better, he'll jokingly call them your battle scars. Leona makes it sound way cooler than it actually is to other people. "Yeah, they've got a good amount of battle scars. Herbivore's pretty damn tough." This isn't to say he doesn't care. If you're around him and about to run into or drop something, he'll pick it up or stop you with his tail. He's got those beastman reflexes, it's light work for him. Whenever he does this, he's absolutely teasing you. "You really should be careful. It starts with breaking one glass. Then it turns to breaking an arm." Don't worry, his teasings always sound like threats. He doesn't mean any harm. If you're in a space with extra breakable objects, his eyes naturally watch over you; ready to spring into action at any second.

azul ashengrotto

Honestly? Might assume you're not human at first. It's common for merfolk to struggle at first when on land— he'd never admit it but he had such a hard time learning how to walk. Still has trouble in PE. When he learns you're just a human who happens to get injured a lot? A bit less sympathetic. Do not step foot into Monster Lounge. Please. Floyd causes enough accidents in there already. He doesn't need another person dropping glasses and food everywhere. Azul does not take any chances. He feels bad when you show him all the different bruises you've obtained. Being a merfolk means he's not super well equipped to handle human injuries. He doesn't know what to do other than rub it gently and wait for it to go away on its own. His solution? Just prevent you from getting injured! This means he’s baby proofing everything. You’re using plastic everything from now on. Plastic cups, plastic utensils, you name it. The scissors in your pencil case? They’re getting replaced with those kiddy dull ones. Hell, he might even put a gate in front of the stairs of Ramshackle to make sure you don't fall and tumble down them. If he’s with you then every time you pass by a table he’ll cover the corner with his hand to prevent you from hitting it. This man is doing the most. But it's all just concern for your wellbeing. He's cruel, but not that cruel.

kalim al asim

If you get hurt at his party, he's instantly apologizing and doing literally everything he can to help. Bandaids? Ice? Urgent Care!? ER!? Just say the word! The table you bummed into is getting put in the storage. You'll have to explain to him that, no, you're not dying. This kinda stuff just happens to you a lot. Once it registers what you're saying, he's actually over the moon happy. You're bumping and dropping everything, accidentally getting injured? Oh my sevens! He's bumping and dropping everything, accidentally getting injured! You two are twins! He's so excited just from your first meeting. He feels like you understand him. The things he does that cause bruises are never on purpose, it just happens! He'll definitely share those top-tier creams and bandaids that cost a ton but make them go away fast. Being around him actually makes your random injures worse. Because now both of you are getting double the bruises. Accidentally drop something on your foot? It bounced off you and hit Kalim's foot too. Kalim wasn't paying attention and rammed into the corner of a table? That pushed the table closer to you, causing you to stub your toe. It's like you two are spiritually connected when it comes to this. Jamil doesn't like having you over. It's nothing personal, but you make his job 10 times harder. Too bad Kalim absolutely adores your presence so you're over all the time.

vil schoenheit

Like Leona, he'll assume you're reckless. Except, he's got more distaste for those of that nature. He'll scoff every time he sees a new bruise... Until he hangs out with you and realizes that you are just the most accident-prone person he's ever seen. Vil will take it upon himself to try and train you. Remember how he was with the Fairy Gala? That's how he's going to be with you. Just not as harsh. He'll do that thing where he stacks books on top of your head and tells you to walk. When they inevitably fall and nearly tumble down on your foot, he's able to stop it with magic. However, he'll simply restock the books and tell you to try again. Vil is determined. When he wants something, he gets it. And right now he wants you to not be as randomly bruised as you are. Surprisingly, it kinda works. You're not bumping into as much tables or ramming your foot into walls anymore. Instead, the bruises are coming from random things fall on top of you. Are. You. KIDDING. When he's around, he'll stop these falling objects with his magic but unfortunately Vil is a busy man who can't be around you 24/7. So? Back to training! He's merciless as he trains you to dodge random things falling from the sky. It's a hard and long path, but when he sees the grin on your face as you dodge a book for the first time in the library, Vil knows it's worthless.

idia shroud

Assumes you're just someone who goes out a lot. Don't wanna get bruised? Just don't go outside lmao. Skill issue. It isn't until he allows you into his room that he realizes that, no, it isn't because you touch grass. It's because you're you. He swiftly learns that the hard way when he watches his entire shelf of figures just tumble over on you out of the blue, unprompted. "Alright, alright. You've got a friend that's consistently getting injured, Idia. Think. Think..." A lightbulb goes on in his brain as he gives you a toothy grin and unsettling laugh. What beats rock? Paper. What beats object? Armor! Why didn't he think of it sooner? You're going to be stuck in his room for a few days as he tests different robotic armor protection on you. To give him some credit, it works. You don't feel it when you ram into tables or accidentally drop something on yourself. But the people around you certainly do. A single touch of the table to this armor sends that thing flying. A random object dropping onto you is the least of your worries as a huge spike appears out of the armor to pierce it, nearly hitting the person next to you. So, yes. He has solved your problem. But in the most inconvenient way possible for everyone around you. Ace and Deuce are begging you to put down the suit of armor.

malleus draconia

"Oh dear. You're quite the unlucky one, aren't you?" And Malleus would be right. Seeing as you're one of his only friends, he doesn't want you to be getting hurt this frequently. Humans are fragile. What if the next rock that falls on you as actually a bolder? He can't fathom the thought of losing you. Malleus decides that he wants you around him. All. The. Time. That way, if not him, then his attendants can stop these bruises from happening. It's hard to explain to him that, no, you can't be around him all the time because different classes and dorms are a thing. Also, as much as you love hanging out with Tsunotaro, it's also very nice to have other friends. This poor fae is super confused. He takes your words as you wanting to get hurt. And why would you want to get hurt? Malleus struggles to understand, leading you to recruit Lilia in helping explain your case. Unfortunately, he's quite the stubborn boy. It takes talking from Lilia and the headmaster for him to register that he isn't allowed to have you by him all the time. It's disappointing for sure, but he'll just have to accept in. Due to this, the time you do spend together he's extremely vigilant to make sure nothing harms you. And during the times you're not, he promises to heal your wounds with his magic.

[xoxojisu]

WEAKNESS!

synopsis: you're rin's only weakness.

notes: except for the emotional constipation, crazy brother issues, turning into a literal demon on field, etc etc..

as much as he loathed to admit it, itoshi rin had a weakness.

it was annoying. infuriating, even. how could he let this happen? he hated it.

"rinnie!"

rin turned his head to see you calling him cheerily, bounding towards him with a sickeningly sweet smile. you wrapped your arms around him the moment you came close enough and embraced him lovingly.

he hated it.

he hated how much his heart raced when you came close. how he was unable to say anything the minute you were standing within a 20-meter radius. how all he could do was stand there and stutter like an idiot. how did your mere presence have this much effect on him? oh, and when you talked? and touched him? don't even get him started.

it was humiliating. absolutely humiliating.

"...hi," was his only response. a brief, stiff response. he found himself unable to say more, and just let himself soak up your touch and affection. he thought it was kind of lame how he became putty in your hands, but of course, he never did anything to change it.

you ran your hands through his hair. "how was your day?"

horrible. terrible. sickening. he hadn't seen you at all day, after all. he was tired and exhausted and dead and he just wanted to cuddle with you.

"shitty."

"oh, i'm sorry, baby." you cooed. "you wanna come over? we can just hang in my room, if you want."

yes, yes, yes. more than anything in the world. that was the place he'd been yearning to be at for the whole day, and also his entire life. get him there right now. there is literally nowhere else he would rather be.

"yeah, sounds good."

the two of you walked back to your place, hand-in-hand as you rambled about your day. rin didn't say anything. he rarely did. he just liked listening.

you told him all about school and the test you had today and how you thought you did and your friends and the latest gossip and just basically everything under the sun. rin listened attentively, clinging onto your every word, occasionally giving a nod or a soft grunt of acknowledgment. your voice never failed to calm him down, and it was one of his favorite things in the world.

once you were in your room, you and rin ended up on your bed, legs and hearts intertwined. you laid your head on his chest and continued to talk about anything that came to mind, with rin occasionally adding in small commentary to let you know he was listening.

as rin played with your hair soothingly, he could tell that you were getting sleepier and sleepier. rin, ever the observant analytic, could always see the signs.

your words would slow and slur, your body would get pliable and meltier, and you'd become more affectionate, too.

"rinnnn," you mumbled, cuddling closer, "you're so.. cute.."

his cheeks flushed pink and oh, wow, that wall looks really interesting.

"..nd, i love you sooo much," you continued, nuzzling your face into his chest, "you're my babyyy..!"

his ears turned red. visibly.

he was supposed to be stoic. cool. composed. intimidating. he had a reputation to uphold, a persona carefully constructed over years of being a distant and detached asshole. but then there was you, tearing his walls down with stupid stuff like this.

"stop saying stuff like that," he grumbled, voice low and gruff. not really because he meant it, but more because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. his heart was doing laps in his chest and his brain was buffering despite how many times you had said and done these things.

"but it's true..!" you whined with a tiny pout, wrapping your arms tighter around him, practically plastering yourself to his side. “my baby. my favorite person. my.. mmm.. my rinnie poo..”

rin almost choked.

"rinnie poo?" he repeated, eyes wide in disbelief, staring up at the ceiling like it had answers for him. "seriously?"

you giggled in response, soft and muffled against his hoodie, listing a string of other ridiculous nicknames, and he swore he could feel his soul leave his body. just for a second. just to scream into the void and come back.

“you like it,” you said smugly, eyes fluttering shut, “you totally like it. you're blushing.”

"am not."

“are toooo~”

he scowled, but it had no weight. not when your hand was resting gently over his heart and your breath was warm against his neck and your legs were tangled so tightly with his he could barely tell where you ended and he began.

he was so, so doomed.

“…shut up,” he muttered, burying his face in your hair. he inhaled deeply. you always smelled like home. like safety. like every soft thing he never knew he craved until he met you. "go to sleep, dumbass."

your breathing was evening out now, slower and deeper, but your grip on him was still firm. like you needed him close, even in your sleep. like letting go wasn’t an option.

he loved that. god, he loved that so much it hurt.

"i love you, itoshi rin.."

he let himself smile softly. kissing your hair and rubbing your back, he mumbled out a small,

"i love you too."

but you were already asleep. you didn't hear it.

but that was okay. you'd hear it tomorrow. and the day after. and for the rest of your life.

itoshi rin had a weakness.

but since it was you, he really didn't mind one bit.

masterlist thanks for reading! <3

[ashthesalamipiece]

👉👈 This is going to be an embarrassing request please don’t feel pressured to do this if it’s uncomfortable.

I’d like to ask for smut(or lead up to smut) of Bakugo with a female reader where reader has a inspection kink. Reader might be admitting to having the kink and being embarrassed by it, Reader might be asking or they are doing medical roleplay inspection kink, or maybe they are doing a degradation kink roleplay where Bakugo is inspecting to make sure they aren’t cheating only for reader to realise they are extremely turned on be the inspection.

Sorry if this is too much of an ask if you don’t feel comfortable doing it feel fine with ignoring me.

Let Me Look at You

(Bakugo x fem!reader | inspection kink, D/s vibes, emotionally charged teasing, 18+!)

You weren’t making eye contact. That was the first red flag.

Bakugo leaned back on the couch, one arm slung lazily over the backrest, watching you fiddle with the hem of your shirt like it had secrets hidden in the seams.

“…Spit it out,” he said gruffly.

You flinched, barely glancing up at him.

“It’s stupid.”

He raised a brow. “You think I care if it’s stupid?”

You hesitated. “It’s like… something I’ve never asked for before.”

Bakugo sat forward. Just enough to bring his eyes level with yours. “Something you want?”

Your breath caught.

He didn’t miss it.

“I—yeah. Kind of. It’s just…” You trailed off, burying your face in your hands with a muffled, “You’re gonna think it’s weird.”

“The fuck I will,” he muttered, standing up. “C’mere.”

You looked up just in time to see him standing in front of you, gaze heavy, arms crossed. “Tell me.”

“I…” You swallowed. “I think I have an inspection kink.”

His eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

“I like the idea of… someone checking me. Like, really checking. Looking at me. Controlling the whole situation. Maybe like a medical thing or a possessive thing or—” You were rambling. “—or a jealousy roleplay thing where you’re making sure I’m not seeing someone else, I don’t know, Katsuki, it’s weird, I know it is—”

“Shut up,” he said.

You froze.

His hand tilted your chin up — gently — just enough to force your eyes to meet his.

“I’m not laughin’,” he murmured. “I’m fuckin’ interested.”

Your breath hitched.

His thumb grazed your jaw. “So you want me to look at you? Like I own you? Like you’re mine to touch and inspect and tease, just to make sure you’re bein’ good?”

You whimpered. Actually whimpered.

Bakugo grinned.

“Thought so.”

He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear. “You like the idea of sittin’ there and letting me peel your clothes off one by one, hm? Touchin’ places just to check if they’ve been used? Spreadin’ your thighs so I can see if you’ve been good for me or if you need to be punished?”

You were burning. Core clenched, thighs twitching, your face probably ten shades of red.

“You’d let me do that?” he asked lowly. “You’d sit still and take it while I look you over like you’re my personal fucktoy to inspect?”

“…Y-yes.”

Bakugo’s hand slid down your neck, stopping at the collar of your shirt. “Then let me look at you.”

His voice dropped.

“Doctor, possessive bastard, jealous fuckin’ boyfriend — I don’t care what it is. I’ll play it all. Just say the word.”

You stared at him, heart pounding, lips parted in shock and need.

“Katsuki…”

His grip tightened slightly. “Say it.”

“…Look at me.”

And oh, the way he smiled then — like a wolf finally given permission.

“Good girl.”

---

You said it — the words still buzzed in the air between you.

“Look at me.”

Bakugo’s pupils blew wide like a lit fuse. His lips twitched into a grin that was far from innocent. You barely had time to blink before he grabbed your wrist and dragged you back toward the bedroom.

Not rushed — no. He moved like he owned the floor, like every step was part of something he’d already planned in his head.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, voice low.

You obeyed, crawling up onto the mattress, nerves and heat burning under your skin like a live wire. He didn’t follow immediately. He just watched you, standing at the edge of the bed with his arms crossed, chin tilted.

“Clothes off. Slowly.”

You bit your lip, fingers trembling slightly as you tugged your shirt over your head. His eyes didn’t leave you — not for a second. They tracked everything — the rise of your breasts, the curve of your waist, the way your thighs shifted as you slid your bottoms down. You felt watched, but in the way you craved — seen, inspected, devoured without being touched.

When you were bare beneath him, his voice darkened.

“Open your legs.”

Your breath hitched, but you obeyed — laying back, spreading for him, your thighs parting with nervous tension. He exhaled slowly through his nose like he was calming himself, gaze locked between your legs.

“Good fucking girl,” he murmured, stepping closer. “So wet already. Is that from me talkin’, or just from being on display like a little slut?”

You whimpered.

“Bet it’s both,” he growled.

He sat on the edge of the bed — not touching you yet — and looked. Really looked. Like he was memorizing you. The slope of your thighs, the way your folds were slick and glistening, the twitch of your hips every time he exhaled near you.

“Don’t touch yourself,” he warned. “Not unless I say.”

You nodded, dizzy with heat.

Then you gasped as his thumb finally dragged up your inner thigh, grazing close to where you needed it — but never quite there.

“You want this kind of attention?” he said, voice rasping. “You want me to check if someone else’s fucked you, huh? Want me to make sure no one else has seen what’s mine?”

Your hips bucked.

He smirked darkly. “Thought so.”

He spread your folds with two fingers, exposing you fully, and leaned down close — inspecting like he was actually checking for evidence.

“No marks but mine,” he said, almost to himself. “Tight little pussy. Looks needy. Looks empty.”

Your breath hitched again as he brushed a finger through your slick.

“Dripping,” he muttered. “Fuckin’ soaked for me.”

Then his eyes flicked up. “You that desperate for me to stuff you full, baby? Want me to make sure no one’s touched you by filling you?”

“Yes—” you gasped. “Please—Katsuki—”

“God, look at you,” he growled, finally slipping a finger inside. “Tight like you’ve been waiting all fuckin’ week.”

You moaned, thighs trembling as he slowly pumped, curling expertly.

“You want me to taste you?” he asked. “Want me to inspect you with my mouth, too?”

You nearly sobbed. “Yes, please—please—”

He chuckled darkly. “Fuck. You’re unreal.”

Without another word, he ducked his head and devoured you — licking up your folds with slow, deliberate strokes, then sucking on your clit like he meant to ruin you. One hand pinned your thigh, and the other kept working inside you, curling with wicked precision.

You were screaming for him in seconds.

“Come on,” he growled against your pussy. “Give it to me. Show me that this hole’s mine.”

You shattered.

Your orgasm hit hard and hot — thighs clenching, back arching, cries tumbling from your lips as you came hard on his mouth and fingers. He didn’t stop until you were panting, wrung out, twitching beneath him.

And then — he pulled back, licking his fingers clean, eyes still wild.

“I’m not done inspecting you yet,” he said hoarsely, unbuckling his belt with one sharp clack. “Now I’m gonna fuck you full. Just to make sure you remember who you belong to.”

---

Your skin was still tingling, thighs slick with the aftermath of his mouth and fingers, when you heard the soft, deadly clack of his belt hitting the floor.

Bakugo stood at the edge of the bed — shirt gone, pants shoved halfway down his thighs, his cock already hard, flushed, thick, and leaking.

And his eyes — gods, the look in them — like he was about to wreck you and you were going to thank him for it.

“You looked so fuckin’ pretty cumming for me,” he muttered, fist lazily stroking his cock. “But I’m not done inspecting this needy little pussy. Not until I’ve filled it.”

Your breath caught as he climbed onto the bed and grabbed your thighs, spreading you wide beneath him again. His cock pressed right at your entrance — hot, heavy — but he didn’t push in yet.

No. He just looked.

Again.

“You feel how open you are now?” he growled, rubbing the tip of his cock along your folds. “So ready for me. So ready to be fucked.”

Your hips twitched, desperate.

“Katsuki—please—”

“Say it right.”

“Please fuck me—please fill me—need you—”

“Atta fuckin’ girl.”

He slammed into you in one deep, punishing thrust — and you screamed, back arching, fingers scrambling for the sheets as he bottomed out inside you.

“Shit, you’re tight,” he hissed, voice ragged. “Like this pussy was fuckin’ made for me.”

He didn’t give you time to adjust — not fully. Just pulled back and thrust in again, hard and deep, setting a rhythm that was brutal. Precise. Claiming.

Every thrust knocked the air from your lungs. He was everywhere — inside you, over you, gripping your hips like he owned them.

“You like me using you like this, don’t you?” he growled. “Just a needy little toy for me to fuck. Want me to fill you up and leave it there so no one else dares touch you.”

You cried out, incoherent. Lost in it.

His thumb found your clit again, rubbing tight circles — pushing you faster toward the edge with every thrust.

“Say it,” he snarled. “Say it’s mine.”

“It’s—fuck—it’s yours—”

“Say your pussy belongs to me.”

“It’s yours, Katsuki, it’s yours—I’m yours—!”

He growled low in his throat — then drove in harder, faster, fucking you with a raw, possessive edge that had you unraveling beneath him.

“Gonna come again?” he rasped. “Gonna cream all over my cock like a good girl?”

You were already there.

You shattered under him — back arching, clenching hard around his cock, crying out his name as your orgasm ripped through you like wildfire.

“Fuck yes,” he snarled, slamming into you once more and spilling inside you, groaning as he emptied himself deep, cock twitching, hips rolling to push it in further.

You both stayed there — panting, shaking, sweat-drenched — bodies tangled, still connected.

And then… he softened.

His arms wrapped around you, lowering you gently to the mattress. He pulled out slowly, careful, letting his release drip from you onto the sheets — and watching it with a tired, satisfied smirk.

“You really do like bein’ inspected,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You were so fuckin’ good for me.”

You buried your face in his chest, flushed, boneless. “That was… a lot.”

“Yeah?” he asked, thumb stroking your jaw. “You okay?”

You nodded.

He leaned down and kissed your lips — slow and deep, no teasing left. Just warmth. Safety. Love.

“Next time,” he whispered, “you want the doctor version, or the jealous boyfriend again?”

You smiled sleepily. “Both.”

He grinned.

“Yeah. That’s my girl.”

[iboozi]

Songs of Us | Don't Judge Me | jjk

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: bf! jeongguk / gf! reader (established relationship)

ᡣ𐭩 summary: How can you let someone in, if you're too afraid of being judged?

ᡣ𐭩 warnings: angst? oral sex (f.receiving)

ᡣ𐭩 w/c: 5.6k

A/N: Sorry for dipping again... but I got really sick for a bit and couldn't really write. But here this is! As requested by anon. I know this isn't as long as my previous one but I hope you still enjoy it nonetheless!! I really tried to tap into the characters emotions, but alas I have not experienced this so I'm not an expert... (kinda sad lol). I tried to follow the vibe of the song (Don't judge me - Chris Brown) without directly referring to it and I hope it translated well! Also I had the random thought that Jeongguk is so Percy Jackson coded. Idk. Kinda?What do you think?

p.s I do not condone the actions of Chris Brown and will never support any acts that he has committed.

-Zoobi out 🪩

masterlist

Don’t judge me

They say you just know when you’ve found your other half. There’s a click that just snaps you into place and before you know it, years have passed and you’re looking back at when it all started.

You've been with Jeongguk for almost a year now. Nearly three hundred and sixty-five days. Eight thousand seven hundred and sixty hours. You find a sense of comfort in him that you once deprived yourself of for so long—something that used to seem like a laughable dream. The love he gives is patient, his touch, so gentle. He’s aware of the scars you carry beneath the dimpled smiles you give the world. But never has he once pushed you to force out the words, force out the pain that lingers in the back of your mind. It seems too good to be true, a dream curled up in the bittersweet shadow of a nightmare, aching to be thrown into the light.

You thought you knew him. You thought he knew you. But despite the countless nights you’d lay under the sheets together, whispering words of comfort—it still wasn’t enough to know him like you thought you did.

It’s a simple mistake, honestly. 

Taehyung hadn’t meant to, but everyone knew — even Jeongguk’s mum— that when he had even the smallest sip of alcohol, any secrets you once surrendered to him would be released into the open.

“It’s just so crazy that you almost married Hana, man. Life’s kinda weird.”

The table falls into a short silence, interrupted by Jeongguk’s awkward cough and a sharp glare into the side of Taehyung’s head. The perpetrator doesn’t notice and continues rambling about relationships that he once had, sobbing at a particular heartfelt memory that everyone seemingly ignores, choosing to stare into their drinks instead.

You glance up from the table, gaze briefly meeting Jeongguk’s. His smile is tight—too tight to be comfortable— but it’s enough to cover the nervousness in his eyes. You’re not sure what it is—perhaps the way the conversation shifts so suddenly, or the way Taehyung’s voice just fades into a buzz, like whatever he’s saying is insignificant. You’re not sure you want to hear anything else come out of his mouth today anyway.

The air in the room seems to thicken as the dinner progresses. A thread of tension creeps down from the ceiling, dangling so tauntingly in front of you, waiting for you to take the bait. Waiting for you, or someone else to burst.

You know better than to ask. It’s not the time. Not the place. But the words are hanging so precariously from your tongue that all you can do is drink your cocktail in silence and hope your mouth doesn’t betray you and say something you’ll regret. 

The feel of Jeongguk’s stare is heavy on you. He knows you’re aching to ask him. But he’s not ready. He doesn’t want to revisit those memories, not when he has you. Not when he’s been free of the ache that plagued him for years and has been on a steady incline of tranquility with you. Instead he claps a firm hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and laughs that he should stop drinking.

Taehyung doesn’t listen. Just huffs at Jeongguk and lifts his glass up to his mouth, sipping slowly and staring at Jeongguk over the rim. Jeongguk sighs at Taehyung's refusal and presses his tongue into his cheek before looking away, eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. He nibbles on the ring adorning his lip, a trait you once admired him do—but after Taehyung’s words, your mind is too busy racing with doubts and uncertainties.

Everyone continues to offer you remorseful glances throughout the night, but you can’t get yourself to respond to them, to look into their eyes and show the wavering in your smile. Even your boyfriend attempts to subtly catch your eye, but you ignore it, and instead focus on not tearing up at the dinner table. It’d be too embarrassing to get hot-headed at the words of a drunk friend.

 But drunk words are sober thoughts, right?

Later, when you’re back from your night out, sitting on yours and Jeongguk’s sofa, you desperately try to ignore the gnawing feeling that’s decided to settle into your chest. You ignore how Taehyung’s little quip has grown roots and the only way you can get rid of them is if someone forcefully rips it out of you.

Jeongguk lingers by the window, back facing you as he stares out at the lights illuminating the city. He’s silent. Too still, and too quiet.

You feel the screws on the bridge connecting you to him loosen—the distance is small, but it could get worse if you don’t say something.

“Jeongguk?” you call softly, voice quavering more than you’d like it to.

He turns hesitantly, gaze finding yours. Time stretches and falters as you both simply look at eachother, the weight of unsaid words settling over you like a winter coat — but it’s unwelcoming, cold seeping through despite the thick layers you’ve both put on. 

You wonder if he can see the unshed tears in your eyes. Maybe he’ll mistake it as a trick of the light. You’ve used that excuse on him countless times, and even though he sighs when you say it, he’ll let you cry into his arms nonetheless. It’s another thing you admire about him. He never pushes. Never makes you say things you don’t want to.

But tonight, any traces of that are gone. He’s not saying anything, and the wait is killing you. 

“You’ve never mentioned Hana before,” you finally say, the question coming out like a whisper. It travels to him, a breeze filtering through the grates of a bridge. You’re not sure if it meets him, or diffuses out of the window he’s left open.

You watch his throat tighten, eyes flicking away before he’s even noticed that he’s doing so.

“It’s… she’s not important anymore, baby.”

Your heart jumps at his words, but you frown at the sensation. You’re not sure why he said it so quickly—so dismissively, but whatever it is, you don’t believe him.

“But it is,” you counter. You don’t mean for it to come out so sharp, but the words spill out like glass, shards scraping at your lips, leaving you with a grainy feeling on your tongue. “I thought we told each other everything. I thought we knew each other.”

Jeongguk’s face falls, a tenderness entering his gaze, and for a slight moment, he looks regretful— at you or because you found out?

“It wasn’t like that. I didn’t mean to hide anything from you. I just… didn’t think it was something you wanted to know about.”

“But it’s a part of you,” you whisper, standing up to reach for him. You falter as he takes a small step back. “...Jeongguk?”

There’s hesitation in his eyes, like he’s trying to choose his words carefully. He wants to say something, you can see it, but it’s almost like his memories are holding him back.

You breathe shakily—Jeongguk just rejected me— and collect your thoughts. “I-If we’re going to make a future, I need to understand your past. Do you think you could let me in?”

His eyes close slowly, lashes kissing the rounds of his cheeks as he exhales heavily through his nose. His arms slump to his sides, fingers twitching with tension that he hasn’t figured out how to release yet.

“Not… not today,” he murmurs. He turns away from you, lost in his head, lost in the lights of the city outside the window.

You nod, swallowing the tight knot forming in your throat. The words sting and you can’t keep the words from festering in your chest. It’s the first time Jeongguk hasn’t jumped in to talk with you.

 It’s new with him, but it’s something you’re all too familiar with from before.

The silence between you elongates and curls around you, thick and suffocating. Your thoughts race, chasing after something, anything that could justify Jeongguk’s cold shoulder.

And yet, it feels like you’re grabbing onto a dream, one that's sliding out of your hands too fast. The screws have loosened once more, and they threaten to fall out of position, bringing warning to a crumbling bridge.

This can’t be fixed. Not tonight. Not at this moment.

Not when Jeongguk has given you a faint goodnight and retires to his bed without giving you a kiss. A kiss that’s an established routine, marking the end of the night, welcoming a new day with open arms. Even though it’s one night, one hair out of place… it feels monumental.

You’re not used to this version of Jeongguk. Someone who’s distant. Guarded. He’s always been your steady, your source of warmth, but now it feels like he’s nudged you out the door with nothing on your back.

You sit back down on the sofa and let your head drop against a cushion, ceiling swimming above in soft waves. The pit in your chest grows heavier, and you bring your knees up to your chest, arms wrapping around yourself the way his should have.

You fight the urge to follow him. To push the door leading to your shared room open. To force him to talk.

But there’s a part of you—shaped by your past— that tells you to stay put. Sit still and not be a burden. To stop being too much.

You end up lying on the couch all night, tear tracks drying on your cheeks from the wind of the open window, body curled in fetal position in quiet surrender.

You jolt awake to the sound of gentle shuffling. There’s a blue blanket—Jeongguk’s blanket— draped over your shoulders, the soft smell of clean sheets invading your nose. The kitchen light is on, a dim golden hue casting across the apartment.

Your heart pounds in your chest.

Jeongguk.

You sit up, back aching from the awkward sleeping position and rush over to where he is.

He’s moving around in the kitchen like nothing happened. You falter at his movements, and wonder if the conversation —if it could even be called that— from last night was real or just a figment of your imagination. A nightmare not plausible because the idea is so far-fetched.

But you know it was real. It’s real in the way Jeongguk’s smile is tight—barely there— and the way he offers a quiet ‘Good morning’. Nothing like the big hugs he’d give you, or the way he’d attack your faces with kisses, the faint smell of his coffee lingering on your (his) t-shirts.

Your face crumbles at his actions. You hate this. You hate how the silence is threatening. Hate how you can smell Jeongguk’s coffee but not on you. The smell lingers around him, and only him. A little bubble that you can’t break into, the walls an indestructible fortress that will only hurt you if you push. 

The silence of the morning continues. You slam your mug into the sink with a little more gusto—but Jeongguk doesn’t bat an eye. You drop a spoon, the clink reverberating through the room—yet again, Jeongguk is too occupied with his phone, lazily scrolling through the morning news.

“Do you still think about her?”. Your tone comes off more aggressive than you’d hoped. But this isn’t the time for pleasantries and gentle words. You want answers, and this is the only way Jeongguk may let up.

Jeongguk freezes mid scroll. His thumb hovers about the screen, but you can see the slight shake of it. You’ve caught him off guard, and the slight bob of his Adam's apple confirms the idea. 

He doesn’t answer straight away. Just blinks once. Twice. Looks at you before placing his phone down on the counter, the soft thud eliciting a wince from you.

“I already told you. She’s not important anymore.”

He’s calm. Too calm. This persona of his feels rehearsed. Like he’s been waiting for this question, waiting for the quiet to erupt. Maybe you didn’t catch him off guard. It seems the flames of this argument have only burnt you, whilst he stands in the corner, a fireproof

blanket secured around him.

You sigh and cross your arms, watching him carefully. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Do you still think about her?”

His jaw tightens. The slight movement is all the confirmation you need. It stings, but you push more.

“I don’t want to talk about this now.”

“Why not?” You’re inching closer to him, chest tight, voice rising. “Because I asked something you can’t answer? Because I’m confronting you with someone you never told me? Or maybe, she’s still in your life and you’ve been playing me a fool all along?”

His head snaps up at your last question. 

“Don’t ever say that. It’s only been you, and it will only be you.”

You scoff at him, running a hand through your hair.

“Well it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.”

Jeongguk stands, breakfast long forgotten and his reticence filling the void of unsaid words.. Before you can say anything, he stalks back to the room and shuts the door with a resounding click.

You watch him leave. Watch him run away from the conversation for the second time. The screws of the bridge are dropping one by one and you just know that it’s a matter of time before you’re both submerged in water, severed from each other.

But you can’t fall. Not yet.

Sagging against the fridge, you bring your palms up to your eyes. Push against your face to relieve the pressure of the fight, but it does little to soothe the throbbing.

You need clarity. Closure. Something that Jeonggukk didn’t give you last night and certainly didn't give you just now.

So you call Taehyung.

He agrees to meet at a little café that you frequent with Jeongguk, but his voice carries hesitation—like he already knows this isn’t just about coffee.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Taehyung murmurs, eyes flickering around before finding yours. “I messed up.”

You sit opposite him, hands tightly gripping your coffee. You can feel the condensation dripping down your fingers, but can’t find it in yourself to rid yourself of the feeling. 

You sigh. “I just… I want to understand. Who was Hana? What did she mean to him?”

But the frantic shake of his head leaves you confused.

“No.”

Your brows draw together. 

“No? What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I mean I’m not the one you should be asking. This…this is Jeongguk’s story to tell.” He leans in, tone softening. “This isn’t the way to go about it. I know—god dammit— I know you’re hurting. But so is he. Talk to him. Don’t dig around through others.”

You don’t say anything. Because you know Taehyung is right. But you can’t help the knot in your chest tighten. All you wanted, all you needed was to feel included in Jeongguk’s life. You didn’t mind being second place to someone else, but you couldn’t be a placeholder for a woman he almost married.

Still, you push back your chair and whisper a quiet thank you, before leaving.

The sun is barely setting as you slink through the front door of your apartment. The amber hues spill through the windows, illuminating the walkway and spilling long shadows across

the living room floor. You’re exhausted—not from the trek back, but the progressive overload of what you carry.

Your coat hits the couch with a dull thud and before you can slip off your shoes, the door behind you swings open and hits the wall beside it.

“You went to Taehyung?”

Jeongguk’s voice slices through the air. It’s sharp. Accusing. You flinch and spin around, caught off guard. His keys are still in his hand, fingers turning white from the grip he has on it. 

He doesn’t look like himself. He looks frayed. Eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling in small bursts.

“How do you even kno—”

“He called me. Told me that you asked about Hana.”

There’s a hushed quality to his voice. Tight. Caged. He’s obviously holding back and every bit of you knows this conversation isn’t going to be quiet.

“Because you won’t tell me anything,” you snap, folding your arms tightly across your chest, shielding yourself from the possible venom of his words.

 He’s not a violent man. You know this. But still, luck has never been on your side.

 “What did you want me to do, Jeongguk? Pretend it wasn’t killing me? Act like her name didn’t feel like a punch in the gut?”

He scoffs. It’s bitter and humourless. 

“So going behind my back was the better option?”

“No. It wasn’t. But it was the only way I could find the truth you wouldn’t give.”

The room quivers with silence. But the ringing in your ears has never been louder.

Jeongguk stares at you, and for a moment it’s almost as if he’s looking right through you.

Then—

“You wanna know the truth?” he asks, jaw tight, ears blooming red from the contained words. “Fine. She almost became my everything. We… We were together for two  years. I thought I was going to marry her. I knew her family. She knew mine. Slept in my bed. Wore my clothes.  She said she loved me—” his voice cracks, and he catches himself, eyes squeezing shut. “And she—one day she just left.”

You swallow thickly, heart pounding. Finally, you were moving forward in this stagnant conversation. 

“Why?” you ask gently.

“Because I loved her too much,” he says, with a harsh laugh. “Because I wanted more. But she said I was suffocating her. I asked for too much, too fast. And I… I believed her. Made me think there was something wrong with me. That maybe— if I was just less, then she would’ve stayed.

His words resound against the walls. Heavy. Exposed.

“Jeongguk…” you whisper, taking a cautious step forward.

But he looks up at you, eyes red-rimmed, begging you to let him continue. 

“I didn’t tell you about her. Because I wanted to bury her. Bury the parts of me that she hurt. I didn't want that shadow to linger over me. Over us.”

You feel it now — his pain. Raw and untouched. A wound that he’s picked and picked at. But never let it heal.

Reaching a tentative hand out, you clasp his jaw in your hand, thumbing away the lone tear trailing down his face. 

“You think I haven’t been broken too?” your voice wavers. “Do you think I don’t know what it feels like to give every piece of me to someone? Someone who only saw me as something to own? You know how I left him, Jeongguk. I’ve told you— or at least the parts I could manage. But you don’t feel it. What it’s like to wake up and pretend your relationship is love when it feels more like a cage.”

You move closer to him, chest brushing his. You see him breathe in sharply.

“I had to make him think I cheated,” you rasp. “Not because I wanted to. But because he wouldn’t have let me go any other way. I made him believe I did something wrong, so he’d finally stop hurting me.”

You can’t stop the tears welling up in your eyes. If Jeongguk was going to be vulnerable with you, you also had to confront your past. 

“I took a gamble with my life. And I’m so glad that I did. Because then, I wouldn’t have met you.”

Jeongguk’s expression crumbles at your tears. It’s too much.

“I— I didn’t know,” he murmurs, voice hoarse.

“Because I didn’t tell you,” you say, lips trembling. “Because I was so afraid you’d judge me. Because even now, even after a year, I don’t know how to stop thinking I’m too much. I’m damaged. Too fragile. So if you’re still haunted by her, I just want you to know that I’m haunted too.”

The gap between you is long gone. The screws are back in place and the bridge is sturdy once more. Now what’s left is to make your way back to him.

Jeongguk pulls you into his arms like he’s terrified that you’ll disappear. Your fingers fist the soft fabric of his hoodie as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, again and again, voice muffled. “I’m so fucking sorry baby.”

You cling onto him, a lifeline that you’ll never let go.

“You don’t have to protect me from your past. I just want to be a part of it. All of it. All of you. Even the parts you’re scared to show.”

He pulls back—just enough to see your face— hands cradling your cheeks. He wipes at your tears, eyes red and glassy.

“Y—You’re not too much,” he says, voice shaking. “Never have been. You’re my Ha-na.”

You blink up at him, wondering if he was even present in the conversation you just had. 

“What?”

He offers you a watery smile. 

“Hana means one. You’re my one. The one and only for me. I don’t want anyone but you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. This is what you’ve needed. The confirmation. The thing you’ve craved your entire life. To be number one in someone's eyes.

He kisses you then—soft at first, like a question. Then deeper. Desperate. You kiss him back with the same ferocity, pouring all the pain and love and fear into the way your mouths meet. It’s messy. Imperfect. But it’s real.

When you finally pull apart, foreheads pressed together, you whisper to him, nose nudging against each others, 

“I don’t want perfect. I just want you.”

Jeongguk nods slowly, eyes still closed. “I’ve always been yours.”

Not everything was fixed. But the broken pieces are on the table now, no longer hiding in the dark. And for the first time, it feels like you’ll rebuild the bridge stronger. Together.

It’s a few weeks after the initial incident when it blows up again.

Jeongguk’s late when you hear the key turn in the door, followed by an uneven shuffle of soft footsteps stumbling through the hallway. Your heart drops a little before he even comes into view—because you know. You know the consequences that come with a night out—when there’s too much alcohol coursing through his veins, a little too much pain hiding beneath the surface.

You’re perched on the couch, blanked haphazardly tossed across your knee, laptop open but forgotten, the soft blue light illuminating the dark living room. You’ve been waiting for him to come home, and tried not to think about everything. But it’s hard, and now that you can hear him, that feeling bubbles up in your chest again.

You sit up, eyes moving to the doorway as he wobbles into view.

Jeongguk doesn’t look at you right away. HIs eyes are glazed, unfocused and he sways unsteadily on his feet, but he doesn’t collapse, doesn't lose his balance. His hair is messier than usual, his hoodie is wrinkled and the smell of alcohol lingers around him like a fog.

The last time he came home like this, things had been very different. You’d hoped it wouldn't come to this again so soon.

“Jeongguk,” you say, tone softer than intended, but your concern is palpable. “What happened?”

He finally looks up at you, and the emptiness in his eyes takes you by surprise. This isn’t the steady Jeongguk you’ve always relied on. Nor is he the confident and easygoing boyfriend who always knows how to make you laugh.

 No, this Jeongguk is fragile, broken, like the coils inside of him are unraveling, threatening to lash out at whoever is nearby.

And in this moment, you’re scared that it’ll be you.

“I—I fucked up again,” he mumbles, slurring his words. His eyes flicker to yours, but he quickly looks down, unable to maintain eye contact.

Your heart aches as you take in his appearance. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. His voice cracks as he lifts his hand to bat at the tears in his eyes. It doesn't work. The tears continue to well up, threatening to spill over down his puffy cheeks. “I didn’t want to hurt you again. I never wanted to be this person. But I—fuck, I’ve been pushing you away. And I…I’ve been scared that you’re gonna leave me. That I somehow made you feel like you weren’t enough.”

Your breath hitches, a mix of relief and fear filling your chest. How long has he been holding onto this? The same pain, the same fear, buried so deeply, yet festering nonetheless. 

You make a move to stand up, but he backs away, shaking his head, chest tight at the thought of standing still.

“I…I don’t deserve you. Not after everything I’ve put you through. I just keep fucking up. I’ve hurt you and you've done nothing wrong. Even after I promised. I promised not to be that person anymore, but I still am. A fuck up.”

“Jeongguk,” you whisper. “You’re not that guy. You’re not. You’re—”

“But I am.” he interrupts roughly, voice strained with emotion. “I am that guy. The one that pushes you, trying to make up for the mistakes I made with her—trying to make you forget that I’m not perfect. Y-You deserve someone that knows how to love you right. Someone who loves you better.”

You can see the tremble in his shoulders, his body stiff with the pain of his words.

“I just wanted to make you happy. I wanted to be enough for you,” the break in his voice is the tipping point, a sob catching in his throat, and it’s like the dam has cracked, spilling everything onto you. He looks at you. Really looks at you. “Please don’t leave. Don’t leave me. Please baby, I’ll do anything.”

You’re unsure when it happened but he’s suddenly close to you, hands reaching out for you to steady him. He falls onto his knees in front of you and latches his arms around your waist, cries muffled by your lap.

“Jeongguk,” you say softly, fingers running through his hair, heart breaking all over again. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be you.”

He chokes on a sob, his emotions too overwhelming to contain any longer. His arms grip tighter, afraid to let go, as he burrows himself deeper into the crevices of your legs.

You reach down and cup his face in your hands. You tilt his head up and he looks at you from the floor and sniffs.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for hurting you. For even making you feel like you weren't enough. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

You silence him with a finger to his lips and run your fingers through his hair. Tracing your nails down his nose, over the ring in his lip and back up to the bar in his eyebrow, you whisper to him,

“You’re so beautiful Jeongguk. So beautiful. And it hurts to think that you’re not enough, because you are. You’re so much more than that.”

You know his words are genuine, his apology coming from a place of deep regret and love. You just hope that he can feel the same with your words.

He nods, tears still falling down his face, but his hold on you loosens slightly. “I don’t know how to fix this. But I want to try. I want to be the person you deserve.”

You smile through your tears and wipe away his with your thumb.

“You already are.”

He looks down, a little embarrassed by the fresh tears still on his cheeks, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes. You can feel the weight of his words through the way he caresses your waist. He breathes out shakily, then pulls away slightly, wiping his face before looking at you.

“You mean everything to me,” he says quietly. “I know I don’t say it enough, but I love you. I love you so fucking much that it hurts to breathe when I think of you. I swear I’ll do better. My past won’t ruin our future.”

You extend your hands, holding his face gently, and pull him into a kiss. It’s unhurried, soft and not rushed like the ones from before. There’s meaning behind this kiss— a promise between the two of you. His lips are warm, still salty from his tears that linger, but the kiss transcends beyond that—the unspoken words, the shared pain, and the desire to heal together.

When you pull back, Jeongguk chases after your lips but you stop him and just stare. Stare at the beauty in his eyes and the freckles dotting his face. He smiles sheepishly, embarrassed by your gaze, but at more ease now than he was when he walked through the door.

He rests back on his knees as his arms come up to your thighs.“I’ll make it up to you,” he says again, trailing kisses up your legs. He’s confident in his actions, the way he parts your legs and leans in. “One day at a time.”

He kisses your inner thighs, nipping at the fabric. You shiver at the touch and pause his movements.

“Jeongguk…you don’t have to do this,” you breathe out. But your actions betray your words as a hand reaches out to grip his hair.

He smiles up at you knowingly.

“Just relax baby,”

And he kisses your thigh again. Except this time, there’s a bit more desperation to it. His hands come up to the point where your legs meet your pelvis and he rubs slow circles.

 The little fuck. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

He presses one last kiss to your knee and leans his head forward, eyes on yours the entire time. You hold your breath, nervous at what he's going to do, but you can’t contain the moan when he eases his teeth around the zipper of your jeans. He slides it down slowly, teasingly, a hand coming up at the same time, loosening the button of your denim.

“Lift your hips, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick with need.

You comply, rising slightly with the help of Jeongguk’s hands, and he pulls your jeans and underwear over your thighs and down your legs. He discards them somewhere to the side, an issue to be dealt with tomorrow, as he pulls you to the edge of the sofa, hands holding your legs open.

His eyes rake down your body, from your eyes all the way to your glistening core, and you can’t help but shiver at the intensity.

“What?”

It’s the word you only whisper in moments like this. When the voices in your head cease and the only thing you can hear are your shaky breaths.

Jeongguk looks at your lips. 

“Nothing. I just love you.”

You roll your eyes at his cheesiness.

“Shut up. I love you more.”

He laughs. 

“Impossible.”

And his mouth is on you. You flinch at the sudden action, but quickly relax as he licks a stripe up to your clit. You let out a low groan as your head falls back against the cushions.

You feel him dig his knees deeper into the carpet and he sighs as nudges his nose up against you.

“Keep your eyes on me.” he rasps, the vibrations sending tingles up your spine. You look down at him as he traces his tongue against your clit. One lick. Two.

You fight the urge to fall back and keep a steady hand in his hair. Well, as steady as you can be.

Jeongguk wraps his lips around your clit, latching onto you with a force that has you seeing stars. You cry out and push his head further into your pussy, aching for more.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan. “Jeongguk, fuck,”

He hums against you and pulls away, catching a quick breath. Glances up at you with those devastatingly gorgeous doe eyes of his.

“More?” he asks.

You nod frantically, fingers still tangled in his hair. 

“Please. Don’t stop.”

Jeongguk doesn’t need to be told twice before he presses a kiss against you, tongue lapping up your slick. He delivers long, flat licks, fast and relentless, and slow teasing flicks, mixing up

his pace to keep you on the edge. He knows what you like. And he sure as hell is using it to his advantage.

You whimper something that he can’t quite make out and he hums in question.

“Use… Use your fingers,” you manage, head lolling back in pleasure.

And he doesn’t wait any longer. His middle finger pushes into you, raking against your insides. 

“So good, Jeongguk,” you whine, free hand gripping the sofa. “So fucking good.”

A second finger enters you, stretching out whatever his tongue didn’t. He moans with you as you tighten your hold on his hair once more. He knows you’re close, he knows the pent up frustration has you reaching your high faster than usual, but he doesn’t slow his pumping.

He nudges his nose up against you once more pressing featherlight kisses against your clit. But a swift kick to his back urges him deeper. He laughs, shoulders shaking by your legs and slips his tongue into you.

Your hands give out from underneath you and you fall against the sofa as Jeongguk rubs circles on your clit with his other hand. This is the final stretch, as your legs begin to tremble.

“That’s it baby,” he husks. “Come for me.”

Like the falling of a bridge, the feeling of his hands and lips pushes you over the edge. You whimper in pleasure and your legs shake as you push through your orgasm. Your grip stays tight on Jeongguk’s hair but he doesn’t complain. He wonders what you’ll say if he mentions that he kinda digs it.

He presses a few more kisses to your thighs and makes his way up to your lips. Lips covered in your arousal, the city lights covering his face in a shine, but he’s pretty. So pretty.

He squashes his lips against your in an obnoxious smack and you laugh as he pulls back.

“Have I mentioned that I love you?”

You bring a finger up to your chin and tap as you think.

“Hmmm… a few times. But it doesn't hurt to hear it again.”

He grins and pulls you into his arms. You squeal as his jeans brush your bare thighs.

“Baby, I’ll tell you whatever you want me to. I’m all yours.”

[fluoriteflygon]

DashCon 2 Final Thoughts:

I have one more post in my queue as a send off, but a final thoughts feels warranted.

DashCon 2 was incredible. It was MORE than incredible, words can’t describe how amazing yesterday was.

I have never been very good at talking to people. I think plenty of people on tumblr can relate to that. I was a weird little autistic kid who could never seem to get it right, who hid behind my family and whispered what I wanted to tell strangers to them so they could say it for me. Yesterday, not a single person felt like someone I couldn’t talk to.

The community was kind, and respectful, and amazing to interact with the whole day though. I could set my bag down and know nobody would steal it! At one point, I had my stuff spread out across FOUR different places and not a single thing was lost or stolen! When I almost lost my water bottle, it was at the stand I had forgotten it at (sorry again to that artist).

I’ll be honest, I was nervous about going to an event like this alone. But I made so many new friends and mutuals—I had nothing to be worried about in the first place.

I only got to go to one panel (after that I wanted to finish up my shopping and get a picture in the ballpit, and by the time I was done it was time for closing ceremonies, and then they had the party immediately after) but the panelist was fantastic, the concept was interesting, and the crowd was engaged. And the panels I didn’t get to go to because they were during my volunteer shift? The crowds were great for those too! I could hear them from my station!

Speaking of volunteering, my group was AMAZING and I felt so insanely lucky to be able to work with them. I would kill to work with them again, and if this con keeps going I really hope to become a longtime volunteer. As happy as I would’ve been going as a guest, being on the team making it happen was an extra kind of special and I couldn’t be more proud.

The dance party at the end was so much fun, it kinda reminded me of cast parties I used to go to in middle/high. People were so friendly during that, I got to dance with people I’d never met and scream the lyrics to songs we loved before getting their names. That’s how I made some of the new mutuals I got! We danced and then we exchanged handles. Both on here and over on Instagram.

Of course I also loved getting to meet a creator I’ve been a fan of since I was literally 12 who’s the entire reason I have the interest in internet history I do (and, by extension, is the entire reason I went to DashCon 2 in the first place). I still can’t believe it. She was incredibly nice both times I talked to her! I still feel bad about only having a copy of a Pokespe volume to get a signature on lol, but hey it just means that book is extra special, yeah?

I also don’t think I’ll get over THE Croaker complimenting my cosplay. Like the tags said, the president himself said he liked my shoelaces. I’m glad to report that both internet celebrities they got were very nice and lovely people!

This is all a bit of a ramble, and I’m sure I’m forgetting something I’ll be mad about forgetting later, but my final thoughts are that this is what DashCon was always intended to be: a niche little event for a community of people who found each other over the internet, and one which brought them all together for a short period of time. Something that makes all the weird little kids who never fit in—who could never seem to do anything right—feel seen, and heard, and accepted, and loved. It succeeded in that and more.

If it weren’t for the merch and the bruises and all the new friends, I would’ve thought it was a dream.

Thank you to everyone involved with Dashcon 2 in any way—organizers, con-goers, volunteers, panelists, online attendees, people who followed the event on tumblr, whatever. That really was the best day I could’ve possibly asked for.

It was a sense of community I’ve never experienced before, and it was magical.

Long live DashCon 2!

[fandomlit]

gif cred belongs to @alicesmindpalace

requested by anon "haii I have a request for a fic for Anthony Padilla x f!reader in which they are sorta hiding their relationship only Ian knows but they stay in bed for a while making them late to work, and there ends up being a huge hickey on Anthony’s neck bc it wasn’t there as he was rushing to get ready. sorry if that was a lottt 😭<3"

warning mentions of hickey and very slight sexual suggestion

imagine anthony padilla coming into the smoffice with a hickey

"have you seen anthony today?" angela whispered over at you as you stirred your tea in the office kitchen.

"if you're going to tease me as usual and say he looks good or was looking for me to get a reaction out of-"

"no, no!" angela immediately defended, waving her hands at you. "seriously, i don't have a bit for you this morning. even if i think you two would be the perfect couple. but!" you looked up at her curiously. "anthony has a huge hickey on his neck. like, fresh hickey. and i'm, like, 90% sure he has no idea."

you blinked at her in surprise. she watched a flush creep up your neck and instantly felt bad that she had said anything--she had always suspected that her teases weren't baseless and you had actual feelings for anthony. you muttered out, "oh, well.. good for him?"

you scurried off when amanda approached. "woah. is y/n okay?"

"yeah.. i just mentioned anthony's big ol' hickey."

"aww," amanda frowned. "and i thought they would be the perfect couple. poor girl is probably feeling weird." angela's heart panged at what she had done.

"i'm sorry, i should have realized earlier that that would be uncomfortable for you hear, i shouldn't have mentioned it," angela rushed out, perching on the corner of your desk. she rambled as she apologized, hands waving and head shaking.

you snuck a glance down at you phone when it buzzed, trying not to be rude to the distressed woman.

anthony <3 so, you just weren't going to mention the mark you left?

you held back a smile as you received another buzz.

anthony <3 that's fine. i'll have my revenge. anthony <3 ;)

"-and i'm just sorry if i made you uncomfortable because i'm always the one who starts the joke."

you just smiled at the worried brunette. "angela, i promise it's okay." you placed a hand on her knee. "i'm not upset with you. i am totally okay. don't worry." she pulled you into a tight squeeze.

you felt slightly bad about not being able to be completely honest with her about the situation.. but depending on your boyfriend's definition of "revenge", she may have a clue soon.

[keraawrites]

Just us

Summary: He was older than you, but it didn't matter to you because Nanami Kento sure knew how to take care of you. ۶ৎ Nanami x black fem reader ۶ৎ

Context: Older boyfriend (Nanami is 30, reader is 21), spoiled rotten, cunnilingus, soft dom! Nanami, doggy style, slight bondage, mating press, unprotected sex, nickname (sugar, pa, etc)

Word count — 5.1k

Your fingers tapped against the keys of your Macbook, the lecture continued to go on in the background as you went back and forth between your tabs.

You were bored, you always were in this lecture. It was your last one of the day, having being able to finish college by 2PM so you could get to more imprtant things.

Your eyes darted down to your lit up phone screen, a notification that had you grining from ear to ear.

Your package has been delivered.

It was one of the two things that made your stomach flutter. Yes, you loved shopping; there was no harm in that.

You sighed, shutting your laptop halfway just as the professor’s monotone voice continued rambling about final papers and participation grades.

Second-year college life wasn’t exactly the spoiled princess era you were used to. Daddy cut you off the second you moved onto campus, told you it was time to “learn independence” and “feel what it’s like to stand on your own.”

You’d laughed. Thought he was bluffing. Until you tried to buy a pair of Balenciaga slides and found out your credit card was declined like some broke freshman.

Humbling experience, really.

But the universe had a funny way of balancing things out.

It was a coincidence, really. You had just gotten a part-time receptionist job at some fancy company, and part of your job was to get coffees for the higher-ups, and of course, a big clutz like yourself, spilt a salted caramel ice frappe with extra whip on Kento Nanami's sea blue shirt.

“Fuck, fuck—shit, I’m sorry! Ugh, that’s gonna stain… Here—take it off, I need to soak it… Why the fuck are you looking at me like I’ve got two heads?!”

You’d been panicking, frantically dabbing at his chest with cheap napkins, and he just… laughed.

Like, full-body, deep-chested, rare-ass laugh that turned heads all across the office floor.

And from then things continued to change between you two, it was like those books people read. He started coming out of his office more to talk to you, sent you texts everyday, asked you to lunch and dinner before you ended up making out in his car one day after he picked you up from college.

It had only been four months months since you two had offically started dating, you didn't mind working for him but Nanami was a provider. Didn't like his woman working, let alone working for him, he wanted you to focus on school and you were okay with that.

"Okay class, that's it for the day, please remember your end-of-the-year assignments are due in two weeks."

You were one of the first ones up and out of the lecture hall. You were already halfway down the street before you heard your name being called.

You paused mid-step, turning just as two familiar figures jogged up to you from the quad.

Nobara and Vic, they were your day-ones since freshman year Welcome Week, back when none of you knew how to work the washing machines in the dorms and bonded over cheap wine and bad decisions.

Now, the three of you were practically inseparable—housemates, brunch buddies, and each other’s go-to when campus life got too chaotic.

“Shouldn’t you two be in class?” you teased, crossing your arms as they skidded to a stop in front of you, both slightly out of breath.

Nobara rolled her eyes, dramatic as ever. “Girl, please. Like we were gonna sit through a full two-hour lecture on modernist architecture. Be serious.”

Vic snorted, already pulling a vape out of her hoodie pocket. “We dipped ten minutes in. Professor started with a slide titled ‘Brutalism and You.’ I was out.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Y’all are terrible.”

“Self-care babes,” Vic shot back with a wink. “You should try it sometime.”

Before you could fire off a comeback, Nobara snapped her fingers like she just remembered something urgent. “Oh! Before I forget—listen. I got a date in a few nights… and I need to borrow those black kitten heels you just bought.”

You paused mid-step, blinking at her like she grew a second head.

“The ones I got last month?” you asked, voice already laced with suspicion.

Nobara nodded like it was a done deal. “Duh. They’ll go perfect with my fit. C’mon, you’re not even wearing them yet.”

“Because I’m saving them,” you deadpanned. “Also… they were a gift.”

That made both of them stop dead in their tracks.

Nobara’s mouth dropped open like you just told her you won the lottery. “A gift? From who? Since when are you getting gifted designer shoes and not telling us?”

Vic gasped, already clutching her imaginary pearls. “Wait. A man bought you those?!”

You didn’t realize how fast y’all had power-walked until you picked up your package of your doorstep, keys already in your hand, unlocking the front door of your shared apartment.

Nobara was hot on your heels, grabbing your arm before you could slip inside. “No, no, no—run that back. Gift? Where exactly do you plan on wearing them? And who exactly are you wearing them for?”

You bit your lip, heart doing that annoying little skip thing it always did whenever Nanami crossed your mind. The safe answer was to lie. Play it off. Say it was some random campus guy you weren’t serious about.

But lying to your girls? Yeah, that felt worse than telling the truth.

“I mean… yeah. They were a gift. From… someone I’ve been seeing,” you admitted slowly as the three of you filed into the apartment.

Cue the twin gasps behind you.

Vic literally dropped her vape onto the couch cushion. “Bitch.”

Nobara was already yelling, flopping onto the loveseat like she was in the middle of a soap opera. “You’ve been holding out on us?! WHO IS HE? What’s the tea?! Why haven’t we met him?!”

You shook your head, trying to hold back a grin as you kicked off your sneakers and grabbed your tote bag. “Nope. Not happening. Y’all are too nosy. This one’s… just for me right now.”

Both of them groaned like you’d physically wounded them.

“Ugh, I hate when you get mysterious,” Nobara whined, already grabbing the remote like she was gonna drown her feelings in bad reality TV.

“Yeah, well,” you said, already halfway down the hall to your room, “some things are better when they’re not a group project.”

You heard them fake gagging as you shut your bedroom door behind you.

You smiled as you looked at the pink parcel that now sat on your bed but your smile shifted to the contact that popped up on your phone.

Your teeth caught your lip as you flopped yourself down on your bed, phone resting against your ear.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Nanami’s low, smooth voice answered on the other end—deep enough to make your toes curl. “How was class?”

“Boring as hell. But thinking about you made it bearable,” you teased, twirling a piece of your hair around your finger.

You heard him hum under his breath, like he liked the sound of that. “Good girl.”

Your breath hitched. Heat rushed straight down your spine.

"Miss you, haven't seen you in a couple of days."

You could hear the deep sigh that left his lips, "I know sugar, I know, but I got a suprise for you.”

"Yeah, what is it?"

You didn't have to wait for the blonde's reply; the sound of your doorbell went off, your brows furrowed, not expecting anything but you went out to answer the door only to see Vic was signing for a package.

"Well, maybe it's another gift from Mr Guess who."

You rolled your eyes as you sntached the box out of her hand before heading back to your room.

"I'm guessing you got the surprise."

"Kenny, what did you do?"

You put the phone on speaker as you open up the box, you squealed as you pulled out the pink glittery halter neck dress out of its confinement.

"Pa, you did not!"

His chuckle came low through the speaker, “Wanted you to have something special. Thought about you the second I saw it.”

You pressed the dress against your body, already picturing how it’d cling to your curves.

“Wanna take you away for the weekend,” Nanami continued, voice dropping a little lower. “Starting tonight. Wear it for me?”

Your breath caught. “Tonight?”

“Yeah. I’ll pick you up in three hours sugar.”

"At least you know how long it'll take me to get ready."

"Of course, know my woman don't I? Now go."

You practically squealed, doing a little excited wiggle on your bed. “You’re really serious?”

“Dead serious.” His voice was velvet, dark and promising. “I’ve been patient long enough. Wanna see you."

Your stomach flipped again—this time in that warm, liquid heat way that made your skin feel too tight.

“Yes, sir,” you said softly, already climbing off your bed to grab your overnight bag from the closet.

You didn’t miss the sharp inhale he took at that.

“I'll see you soon."

It didn't take long for you to pack; it would be your first time going away with Nanami, and to say you were nervous was an understatement. No, it wasn't the first time you had spent the weekend with the blonde, but this was different.

You had packed the essentials, including the little pink package you got delivered today. Your eyes darted to the clock on your wall, cursing under your breath you made your way to your ensuite bathroom for a quick everything shower.

You certainly did not have the time for it but God help you if you didn't smell and look good for the man.

It didn't take long before you were doing a full face of makeup, your face was beat, your lace was melting as you put on the finishing touches to your makeup and jewellery.

Your phone buzzed against your nightstand, you paused mid lip combo as you saw his incoming text.

Outside sugar, take your time.

"Shit."

You jumped up, pulling the dress off your bed and before you knew it you were all wrapped up in glitter and pink.

Your hands straightened out the dress as you looked into the mirror, your hair straight as it flowed down your mid back, it was in a nice side part, your edges laid nicely against your lace.

You quickly slipped on your heels before grabbing your overnight bag and making your way out of your room. You were glad to see the yappie twins had passed out on the couch, you'd shoot them a text to let them know you were okay later.

Nanami stood against his car, draped in an expensive blue suit with a bunch of flowers in his hand. The low sunset caught the gold in his watch, his sleeves pushed up just enough to show off his forearms.

His gaze lifted from his phone the second he heard the door shut, and for a moment…he just stared.

Like actually paused.

Like he needed a full three seconds to recalibrate because yeah…you looked that good.

“Damn, sugar…” His voice dropped low, almost like it was for him more than for you. “You look stunning.”

You felt your face heat as he took your bag off your shoulder with one hand and cupped your jaw with the other, giving you a soft, lingering kiss right there on the sidewalk.

"Come on baby, I got a whole weekend planned and I'm this close to throwing it away."

You gigled as you pecked his lips once more before he helped you into the car.

The drive was nice, his hand never left your thigh as he drove you both to God knows where, music softly played through the speakers.

"So you gonna tell me where were going?"

He chuckled, squeezing your thigh softly, "No, I'm allowed to keep some things a mystery."

You kissed your teeth, the blonde pinched your thigh softly, before pulling your hands to his lips. The ride went on, and before you knew it you were pulling up to this beautiful resort. You sat up straighter as some black gates opened up, revealing a stunning coastal resort built into the cliffs like something straight out of a dream. Modern architecture, soft golden lights, staff in white uniforms with welcoming smiles—it was giving luxury escape.

Your eyes widened as the car came to a smooth stop under the grand covered entryway. Nanami hopped out first and circled around to open your door, reaching for your hand like you were royalty.

“Kento…” you exhaled, letting him help you out as you looked around, your heels clicking softly against the marble drive. “You really did all this for one weekend?”

That signature soft smile curled on his lips—the one that made your knees go a little weak. “It’s not just any weekend,” he said. “It’s ours.”

You didn’t even realize how tightly you were squeezing his hand until the valet appeared, politely taking the car keys. A bellboy began unloading your bags with care, and you just… stood there for a second, soaking in the ambiance. The air smelled like sea salt and sandalwood. Every surface shimmered with candlelight and wealth. You felt like you had stepped into another reality entirely.

Nanami placed a gentle hand on your lower back as he guided you through the glass doors. The lobby was grand—high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows with panoramic ocean views, marble everywhere. He made small talk with the receptionist, handling check-in with that quiet, composed confidence of his, while your eyes wandered the space.

God. Damn.

You were still admiring a massive flower installation near the center of the lobby when his hand slid back onto your waist, grounding you instantly. “They’ve prepared dinner for us,” he murmured close to your ear. “Come on, sugar.”

The two of you followed a suited host through the resort’s winding halls until he opened a set of frosted glass doors that led to an outdoor terrace, secluded from the main dining area.

You blinked.

A private candlelit table was waiting there, set with a view of the ocean horizon now melting into violet and gold. A string quartet played soft instrumentals in the background. Your seat had been pulled out already, and a server greeted you with two glasses of champagne before disappearing.

"Ken, what the fuck is this?"

"Dinner."

You kissed your teeth as you took a sip of your wine, your eyes catching his in the dim light of the restaurant.

"You know what I mean, this is big Ken,--"

"And I only give the best for you,"

You tried to hide your smile but it was getting hard to. Kento Nanami did love to spoil you, you knew this. From your first date to the first time you had sex, Kento did not skint on anything so this should not have suprised you at all.

Dinner was phenomenal, it was never a dull moment with Nanami, he wasn't like boring older guys, knew how to keep up with you, yes you still threw in the old guy slander but it didn't matter to either of you.

"My friends are curious about you."

Nanami paused mid-chew before his eyes focused back on you, placing the fork near your mouth, your lips wrapped around it as you took a bite of his steak.

"And what do you tell them?"

You tilted your head softly, your eyes sprakled with that bratty glint he was oh ever so used to.

"Oh, not much." The blonde's eyes bored into you as he felt your foot run up and down his leg softly, before reaching up to his thigh.

"So nothing at all?" his hand grabbed your ankle before it could inch any higher, his thumb traced over your anklet, the one he’d given you last month for your birthday. 14k gold, with his initials engraved into the tiny charm.

"Not yet, I like that it's just us, you know? No one else weighing in, so I want it to just be ours for now, is that a bad thing?"

Nanami just continued to stare, his hand not leaving your foot. You felt your stomach dip slightly, not knowing whether or not you said something wrong.

The blonde picked up his napkin, wiping his hands softly before he got up from the table. Your eyes tracked his every move as he rounded up behind you, pulling your chair out softly.

"We haven't finished dinner yet."

Nanami pulled out his wallet as he left a not so little tip before grabbing your hand, lacing your fingers together as he pulled you out of the restaurant.

He didn't say anything as he guided you past the reception towards the elevators.

"Ken..."

Your nerves continued to settle in you but they didn't last long, Nanami pulled you into the empty elevator and before the doors could even close he had you pinned against the cold panels, lips capurting yours.

You gasped into his mouth, fingers curling into the front of his shirt as he deepened the kiss — slow, but intense. His mouth moved with purpose, his tongue brushing over yours like he was tasting something he’d been craving for hours.

His hand slid down to your thigh, hiking your dress up as he pressed his hips forward, just enough for you to feel how much he wanted you.

“It's not a bad thing, baby," he murmured against your lips, voice rough, barely above a whisper. “Not at all. It can be just us… for as long as you want.”

That sent a pulse straight between your thighs. You whimpered, head tilting instinctively as he kissed down your jawline, dragging his lips along that soft spot below your ear that made you shiver.

The elevator dinged casuing Kento to step away from you, fixing your dress and his suit, the blonde took your hand, thumb grazing over your knuckles as he pulled you towards your hotel room.

The suite door clicked open under his keycard, revealing a space soaked in soft golden lighting and coastal breeze — floor-to-ceiling windows framing a dusky ocean view, sheer curtains fluttering in the evening wind.

You stopped in front of the glass windows, your room on one of the highest floors had you looking right down onto the ocean.

But you barely had time to take it all in before Nanami's hands found your waist again.

He pushed your hair away from your neck as his lips left soft kisses along your nape. You titlted your head slightly, giving him more access, Kento's fingers began trailing up your thigh, parting them softly before they found the hem of your lacy gift.

"What's this?"

"A present, for you."

He bit down on your neck, "Oh?"

You moaned softly, eyes locked in on your shadows through the window, "Got them today, wanted you to see them, but I guess it can wait till later."

"Don't worry, I'll appreciate them later sugar."

He spun you around, your body hitting the glass softly as his lips met yours again. You moaned into his mouth as your tongue tangled with his, your arms hung loosley around his neck, fingers running softly through the hair on the back of his head.

His hips pressed forward, letting you feel the heat and pressure of his arousal, and it stole the air from your lungs.

“Kento,” you gasped against his lips, “we’re— the window—”

“I know.” His hand cupped your cheek. “You look too good not to be seen like this.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he kissed you again, his hand sliding up the back of your thigh, fingers curling under that barely-there lace. He lifted you without effort, wrapping your legs around his waist, pressing you to the glass with a reverence that made your heart ache.

Kento pulled away from you, slowly sinking to the ground as he pulled your leg over his shoulder. Your breathing was labpured as his eyes locked in on the wetness of your panties.

You moaned out as his teeth grazed against the inners of your thigh before he let out a cool breath on your clothed slit.

"You are so fucking perfect, wear them for me again later yea?"

You only could nod as he pulled them down, leaving your cunt bare to him. Kento never wasted any time when it came to having his head between your thighs, his lips wrapped perfectly around your clit, your head tilting back as it hit the window with a soft thud,

Your hands flew to his hair, his tongue flat as he licked a long, slow stripe, causing you let out soft moans into the air.

He swirled around in practised circles before flicking just the way he knew would make your thighs tremble. You choked out his name, hands flying to his hair, fingers curling tight as his pace stayed slow but unforgiving.

“Kento,” you whimpered, already pulsing under the drag of his mouth. “God—please—”

His grip on your hips tightened as he moaned into your cunt, sending shockwaves straight to your core. His eyes darted up to his as one of his hands slid down, a single finger slipping inside you with ease, curling just right as he kept his mouth locked to your clit.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmured between strokes. “Could stay down here all night.”

Your legs were shaking, that pressure building hot and heavy in your lower belly. And he knew—of course he knew. He always did.

He didn’t stop until you were gasping, body jolting against the glass, his name spilling from your lips in a cracked moan as you came against his tongue.

Your thighs clamped around his head, and he let them—let you ride it out on his mouth like he needed to feel every pulse of your orgasm.

Only when your grip loosened did he finally stand, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, your slick shining on his lips. He looked down at you like you were the only thing in the world worth worshipping.

You were still trying to steady your breathing when Nanami loosened his tie, slow and smooth, never breaking eye contact. His jacket was the first to go, then his shirt, buttons slipping free one by one as his chest was revealed, toned and golden under the soft hotel lighting.

When he held his hand out, you didn’t hesitate. His palm was warm as it guided you toward the massive king-size bed. You sat at the edge, legs slightly parted, watching him wrap his tie around his knuckles.

"Want you on all fours, baby."

"You want me to strip?"

He shook his head, unwrapping the tie from around his hand as he gesutured for you to get into position.

You swallowed thickly, crawling up and arching your back instinctively. The dress clung to every curve, riding up high as you positioned yourself on all fours. Kento let out a breath behind you like the sight alone had knocked it out of him.

You never questioned Nanami when it came to sex, the man knew how to please you every which way.

You moaned softly as you felt the soft smack of his hand on your ass. Your back was arched perfectly, the dress still hugging your curves.

“Perfect,” he murmured.

Then he gathered your wrists gently behind your back, his lips brushing over the inside like a kiss, soft and tender. You could feel the heat of his breath before the silk of his tie looped around your hands, securing you in place.

“This okay?” he asked, voice serious now, checking in like he always did.

You nodded but Kento didn't appreciate, his hand came down harder against your ass causing you to cry out, your body jolting as you let out a breathless gasp. “K-Kento—”

“Use your words,” he said calmly, almost too calmly for the way your pulse spiked. “You know better, sugar”

“Yes, sir,” you breathed, thighs clenching as the words slipped from your lips.

“Good girl.” You could hear the approval in his tone, the pride, like you’d just pleased him in the deepest way possible.

The sound of his belt unbuckling filled the air, and your breath hitched. You couldn’t see him—but you could feel him, standing behind you, watching, palming himself slowly as he took in the way your ass arched up for him.

He leaned down then, kissing the base of your spine before whispering, “I’m going to take my time with you. You gave me such a pretty gift tonight—it’s only right I unwrap it slow.”

You felt the heavy press of his cock against your slit, dragging through your wetness before he rocked his hips just enough to tease your entrance.

You whined, writhing under him, your wrists twitching in the tie. “Please...”

Kento pushed in with a low groan, the stretch slow and deep, dragging every inch out like he wanted you to feel all of him. Your jaw dropped as he bottomed out, the burn delicious, your body clenching around him like it was made for this.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he gave a shallow thrust.

Then another.

And another—deeper now, harder.

“You’re taking me so fucking well,” he breathed. “Always do.”

You cried out as he picked up pace, hips slapping against your ass, the sounds echoing in the golden quiet of the suite. Every thrust made the headboard creak softly, and the pressure—the fullness—had your toes curling in the sheets.

Your body rocked against the tie binding your wrists, the helplessness of it only making the pleasure sharper. He had you, completely—wrapped up in silk and praise and that damn perfect control he carried like a second skin.

The blonde groaned as he felt your gummy walls suck him in, he always was mesmerised by how well you could take him. The warmth of your cunt always had him lose just a little of that self control he was famous for.

He watched the milky ring form at the base of his cock, your ass rippled against his hips at every thrust. He could feel the way you tightened around him, a knowing sign you was already close to your orgasm.

Kento pulled on the binds, your body arching as you barley fought against the orgasm that started to creep in..

“Gonna cum for me, sugar?” he murmured, voice low and gravelly, the rhythm of his hips turning urgent as he chased the sounds of your desperate little whimpers.

“Y-Yes—yes, sir—oh my god—”

“That’s it,” he growled, hand coming down to grip your ass as he drove into you harder, deeper. “Come on then, be a good girl and give it to me.”

You gasped, chanting his name like a prayer, barely able to hold yourself up. The climax slammed into you like a wave breaking against glass, your whole body trembling, back arching before you finally slumped forward, boneless and wrecked, your bound wrists barely supporting you.

Kento didn’t let you fall far.

He eased out slowly and leaned down, kissing your spine like he was painting you in devotion—soft, unhurried, reverent. “You did so good, baby,” he murmured between kisses, his voice warm and grounding. “Just like that. Always so perfect for me.”

He untied your wrists with a gentle hand, thumb brushing over the faint red marks left by the silk. You moaned softly, dazed, pliant as he helped you out of your dress, peeling it off inch by inch until you were fully bare in front of him.

“Come here,” he whispered, and you didn’t resist when he guided you onto your back, cradling your head against the pillow before his mouth found yours again. His kiss was slower now—sweet and deep, tongues gliding together like he had all night to get his fill of you.

“Ken—” your voice wavered, but he hushed you with a soft kiss to your throat.

“Shh, I got you.”

You barely noticed when he reached under your knees—until suddenly, your legs were folded up tight to your chest, thighs pressing into your body as he slid back inside you in one long, slow stroke.

Your gasp echoed off the walls.

“Kento—!”

“Just like this,” he whispered, towering over you, one hand gripping the back of your thigh while the other cupped your cheek. “Want to feel all of you. Want to fuck you so deep you forget your own name.”

Your body arched beneath him, overwhelmed, overstimulated, already so sensitive. But he was so deep like this—too deep—rubbing against every spot inside you that made you lose your breath.

“Look at me,” he said, voice low and full of heat. “Eyes on me, sugar.”

You obeyed, barely holding on, and the second your eyes locked with his, you let out a whimper at the sight of him, the darkness of his eyes settled on you as he continued to fuck you into the mattress. The squelching sound of your wetness accompanied with the plap plap of his skin meeting yours had your eyes rolling back.

“That’s it,” he groaned, fucking you through it, relentless now. “That’s my girl.”

You sobbed his name, tears pricking your eyes as your legs shook in his grasp. He didn’t let you move. He smiled, sweet and dark. “You’re always such a good girl for me.”

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. All you could feel was him, deep and unyielding, his praise melting into your skin as your body trembled under him. His hands were everywhere—cupping your jaw, gripping your thigh, pressing your legs up higher so he could bury himself to the hilt over and over again. You could feel yourself drip into the mattress, but Nanami wasn’t one to be wasteful, you barely had time to register his quick pull out before his mouth slurped out you cunt.

He kept your legs pinned high, his tongue licking deep into your walls before dragging up to your clit, sucking you with a hunger that had your eyes rolling back and your hips jerking. He didn’t stop until your thighs were shaking uncontrollably, until your pussy was fluttering around nothing and begging to be filled again.

“You’re gonna give me that last one,” he groaned, sinking back into your walls, his control slipping. “Gonna cum with me—fuck, gonna feel me so deep you’ll be dripping for days—”

You cried out his name, nails clawing into his back as your last orgasm crashed over you like a fucking tsunami. Nanami cursed, hips stuttering, and with a final thrust, he came undone—his release hot and heavy inside you as he buried himself to the hilt and stayed there.

His forehead pressed to yours, both of you shaking, breathing hard. The only sound was your shared gasps and the ocean wind outside.

“You did so good,” he whispered again, kissing you softly now. “So good for me, sugar. So fucking perfect.”

You could barely catch your breath as your fingers raked through his hair, his head buried into your neck as he continued to whisper praises into your skin.

“Still need to see that gift you got me in full view.”

You giggled, rolling over causing him to shift behind you, pulling your back into his chest as he spooned you from behind.

“We’ve got the whole weekend Kenny.”

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘢𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ©

[edengoesmeow]

woah. very nicely put!

this dog does not support zoophiles or those who participate in beastiality.

this dog does not support pedophiles or self proclaimed maps.

this dog does not support necrophiles or any other harmful paraphiles.

seek help!

[aeonmnei]

— “no one can make desperate look cool.”

and god, wouldn’t he know that to be the truth. it’s almost embarrassing how tetsuro keeps moving seats during lab to get a ‘casual’ glimpse of you in the singular hour he has in that stuffy room.

he’s had to keep changing lab partners because he keeps messing up the titrations or measurements or using the wrong instrument. nothing too serious, just little inconveniences that make him a bit trifling to work with. that’s okay with him. that’s on purpose. his plan is to hopefully land with you next, but you seem to be very content with your current lab partner. which is…not ideal.

today, tetsuro manages to finally grab a table near yours, mulling over his thoughts for a moment before turning around with a sheepish smile on his face. “hey, would you mind if we borrowed your scale?” he asks, in what he prays is an easygoing tone.

you tilt your head. “your lab partner is getting one,” you tell him, pointing behind him. tetsuro fights to keep a polite look on his face as his partner walks back with a scale in his hands. “ah, sorry. didn’t see, haha!” tetsuro laughs, turning back to you warmly. “nice…” 

he literally fades off. he was going to compliment something about you, but everyone is wearing the same protective gear, and it’s not like he could say, “nice PPE!” because that would even more of a fumble than what was already happening. tetsuro resorts to two finger guns. “thanks,” he says, trying not to sound awkward, and turns on his heels back to his table.

fine. he’s determined. yearners are earners, as they say!

luckily for him, it seems like today’s lab he’s hit the jackpot. your partner failed to show up (because of a surgery or something insignificant like that), and his lab partner also failed to show up (something something broken ankle or other). you know what that means!

“heyyy,” tetsuro calls, sauntering up to you. he leans nonchalantly on the lab table you’re standing at. “no partner today?” you glance at him. “nope. yours either?” “yeah. i mean— no. i mean unless you wanna be, then yeah,” he rambles. wait, he’s confused. what did you say? “huh?” tetsuro squeaks at the end, like it couldn’t get any more worse. oh my god, kill me now, he thinks, blankly smiling at your amused face. 

you laugh, and it almost makes him forget how mortifying this situation is. “sorry, i meant, your partner isn’t here either? i phrased it badly. sorry,” you explain, still giggling a bit. “but sure. i’ll be your partner. wouldn’t want you to mess up those titrations again.” “damn, is that my reputation here?” tetsuro asks good-naturedly, attempting to look you straight in the eyes. he fails. he looks at your ear. 

“well, it’s hard to ignore the fact that you have to keep switching lab partners,” you reply, just as cheekily. “maybe i’ll settle down one day,” he nearly jokes, but he swallows it down and laughs instead. suddenly it’s really hard to speak. 

he’s uncharacteristically quiet as you set up the lab table for a lycopodium experiment. he reads over the instructions as he waits, and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “hey,” tetsuro starts. “i can perform the experiment. since it’s open flame, and stuff.”

“oh,” you say, peering at the paper. “okay then.” tetsuro has to look away to not look stupid as he tamps down a grin at the thought of you two having to stand next to each other. since it’s open flame, and stuff. he redirects his smile to the teacher, who looks at him oddly, but keeps walking around. “i think we can start now,” you tell tetsuro after a few moments. “neat,” he replies, then nearly bangs his head on the table corner. who the fuck says ‘neat’?? 

after mentally beating himself up, tetsuro takes a match and lights it, hand shaking just slightly as he feels you sidle up next to him. “whoa,” you breathe. the powder catches the flame and gives a mild ‘whoosh’ in response. “not too scary,” he remarks. it’s more of a reassurance to himself, because his finger is right on the match and the fire is a little too close for comfort. “it’s not burning you, right?” you ask him, a hint of concern in your voice. 

he laughs, feeling some of that macho energy. “nah,” he replies, smirking a bit. then the flame jumps, and he quickly shakes the match to put it out. yikes. “uh, mind getting the pipette?” “yeah,” you reply, suctioning up some lycopodium powder in the tube and handing it to him. tetsuro lights up a standing candle and takes the pipette from you, trying to hide the fact that he’s reeeally giddy at the feeling of your fingers brushing his.

“alright, stand back,” he says leisurely. you hide behind him, looking over his shoulder, and tetsuro feels like he’s soaring on top of the world. he holds the pipette to the candle and squeezes, creating a giant flame that dances in his vision. “wow!” you exclaim with your hand on his bicep, and the pipette in his hand starts shaking. 

fortunately for him (and his ego), he recovers quickly, and gives the pipette another squeeze to fuel the fire. this goes on until the powder runs out. as the two of you clean up the tables, you speak up. “you’re actually much more capable than you seem.” tetsuro looks to the side sheepishly. “was i really such a lost cause to you before?” he asks, and snickers at your immediate confirmation.

you shake your head amusedly as you wipe down the tabletop. “seriously, all the data in the report is correct, and you didn’t mess up the experiment. i’m impressed,” you tell him, giving him an appraising look. 

it’s so embarrassing how he can’t make that smile of his smaller. his cheeks hurt like hell, and there’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest as he practically floats his way home.

fuck, he’s so whipped for you.

note: real ones know the line from chapter 267 no i'm not insane you are

[msmk11]

hiii love, I'm your new follower (can't believe I'd found the gems such as your blog this late, sigh).

happy birthday sweetheart, may the days ahead be enjoyable for our gorgeous here ♡♡

may i indulge myself with 'take a shot' of your lovely event? I'd love to see sweet remus with prompt #22, such a sucker for fake dating trope hehehe

stay hydrated, healthy and pretty Queen 🤍

22) fake dating

omg i'm also such a sucker for fake dating. like these fools always fall in love with each other (real). thanks for coming to the party, love!

Rules are Meant to Be Broken

Remus Lupin x gn!reader

WC: 4.5k

CW: pining, idiots in love, fluff

Summary: Every romance book could tell you that fake dating your best friend was a terrible idea. But you’re convinced you’ll be the exception. Spoiler alert: you’re not.

As soon as you enter the Gryffindor common room you kick your shoes off. You don’t know why you thought it would be a good idea to wear new shoes on a first date, but now your heels are rubbed raw and sore. The date with a Ravenclaw boy from your year, Jake, had been absolutely disastrous. Nothing went wrong, necessarily, besides the fact that you almost fell asleep into your tea as he rambled on about some complex Ancient Runes theory that you simply did not care about. You really don’t know why Lily set you up with him, and you’re going to have to give her a stern talking to later when you can walk again. Right now you think you’d just like to be folded up into the soft couch and disappear for a while.

The portrait hole opens and Remus Lupin, your best friend, walks in, school bag slung over his shoulder and tie loosened around his neck. When he sees you he smiles and makes his way over. Without thinking you lift your legs, allowing him to plop down onto the couch before you settle them back on his lap.

“How was your date?” he asks, absentmindedly running a hand up and down your left shin.

You groan and shake your head, “positively awful, Moons. Jake rivals Binns for being able to put me to sleep.”

Remus’ brows furrow, pinching in concern and sympathy, “I’m sorry, dove. There are always more fish in the sea, hmmm?”

“I don’t know that I really care if there are,” you reply, sinking lower into the plush red cushions, “I’m kind of sick of dating. The girls just keep insisting that I need to put myself out there.”

The brunette sighs in agreement, squeezing your calves gently, “I know what you mean. The boys won’t leave me alone about dating either. You know Prongs is a lovesick fool for Lily, so he keeps insisting I find someone of my own who makes me just as happy. And Pads is insufferable, pointing out nearly every bird our age and suggesting I give them a chance.”

“Exactly! Like, I’m so happy that Lily and James are happy and that Marlene and Dorcas are in love, but maybe I don’t want to be in a relationship. I wish they’d just leave me alone. But they’re relentless, Rem.”

He nods thoughtfully, and you both fall into a comfortable silence. Remus’ hands have fallen into a delightful pattern of massaging up and down your calves, easing the tension from your muscles after being on your feet all the time. Your eyes flutter shut from the sensation and your best friend hums approvingly.

“You know, dove. I’ve just had a thought. It’s a bit crazy, and you don’t have to say yes. But I was thinking… what if we…”

You open your eyes and sit up, listening more intently at his nervous rambling, “what if we what?”

“What if we dated each other?”

You freeze, eyes widening in shock, “what?”

“Not- not for real!” Remus quickly clarifies, “I mean, what if we pretend to date each other. If our friends thought we were dating they’d leave both of us alone. No more blind dates for you, and no more attempts by Pads to set me up with random girls at parties.”

It’s an intriguing idea to say the least. It would be nice, not having to go on anymore blind dates. AND your friends would just leave you alone…. But pretending to date Remus? Your best friend? Sure, he’d be the perfect fake boyfriend- sweet, smart, kind- but wouldn’t pretending to date each other make things awkward?

“I- I don’t know, Remus. I just don’t want to do anything to jeopardize our friendship, you know? You’re so important to me, and I can’t risk losing you.”

The brunette nods understandingly, “Of course, dove. I understand. I agree. Our friendship is special to me too. But, I don’t know… I think if we set boundaries and rules beforehand, we can make this work.”

He pauses momentarily, “Just, think about it, hmm? Sleep on it and we can talk about it again tomorrow.”

You nod, letting out a deep breath, “Okay Moony. I’ll think on it, I promise.”

The next morning you’re just sitting down to breakfast when Mary siddles up to you, a cheeky grin on her face, “morning, babes.”

You eye her over your toast warily, “uh oh. What’s got you so chipper?”

She sits down gleefully and starts to pile bacon and eggs onto her plate, “I’ve got another potential date lined up for you.”

You drop your toast onto your plate and groan, "Merlin, Mary, how? It’s been less than 24 hours since my last one!”

“I told Lily you and Jake weren’t a match, but she didn’t believe me. So I’ve been working my magic in secret. You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you bemoan, shoving the rest of the buttery goodness into your mouth. It doesn’t help.

“That’s why I’m such a good friend, babes,” the brunette insists, winking teasingly, “And you’ll really thank me because I got you a date with…drum roll please…”

You look at her unimpressed and do nothing of the sort.

She ignores your sour temper, “Amos Diggory!”

Her brown eyes sparkle with excitement but you don’t return the sentiment, “Ugh. Diggory? No way, Mary.”

Mary juts her lower lip at you and rounds her eyes, “come onnnnnn. Give him a chance! He’s smart, witty, and easy on the eyes.”

There is no part of you that wants to go on a date with Diggory. You find him obnoxious, annoying, and conceited. But you know Mary won’t listen, not unless you have a valid excuse. It’s then that you recall your conversation with Remus from yesterday.

“Sorry, I really can’t.”

She crosses her arms at you, looking unimpressed, “give me one good reason.”

You spoon some cereal into your mouth and murmur, “because I have a date with Remus.”

Mary’s jaw drops as she nearly screeches, “LUPIN?!”

Remus is easy to find, even without that map him and his friends created. He’s tucked away in his favorite spot at the back of the library where it’s quiet and he can get a good view of the front lawn. You plop down in an empty seat next to him and clear your throat, “alright, Moony. I’ve come to a decision. Let’s date.”

His head whips up from his book and his chocolatey eyes widen, “really? You want to do it?”

You drop your bag onto the floor by your feet, “I have to now. I sort of already told Mary we were going on a date.”

Remus’ eyebrows raise impossibly higher and he closes his book with a resounding snap, “really? Why’ve you gone and done that?”

Your face heats with a little embarrassment, “it sort of slipped out, honestly. But she was pestering me about another date, this time with Amos Diggory.”

The brunette blanches, “Diggory? Really?”

“That’s what I said!” you declare loudly. You cringe instantly, lowering your voice immediately, “I will, under no circumstances, go on a date with him. I cannot stand him. But you know Mary, she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.”

He huffs a laugh, “that’s true. So, we’re really doing this?”

“Yes, we’re really doing this.”

“Let’s just make a few rules so we don’t overstep any boundaries,” Remus replies, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill.

Quiet laughter vibrates in your chest, “my best friend, always the prepared one.”

He scribbles across the parchment and then pauses, “okay…rules.”

“We should set an end date.”

“Wanting to break up with me already,” Remus quips, lips quirking into a faint smirk.

“Come on Moons, if we don’t set an end date, when will it ever truly end? One minute we’re fake dating and then we’re fake engaged and then for real married with real children.”

The brunette only laughs at you, “okay, okay fine. How about the end of the term? That’s…two and a half months…and then when we get back in the Spring, we can use our breakup as an excuse to not date for a while.

Two and a half months…. In your head, that feels like a long time to commit to anything, “Fine, but, with a stipulation- either of us can drop out anytime without any explanation.”

The brunette nods in agreement and scribbles down the amendment on the parchment, “boundaries?”

“No kissing.”

He doesn’t even respond, instantly jotting it down without a second thought, “dates once a week, and we’ll take turns paying.”

You have no complaints.

“Small amounts of pda- hand holding, cuddling in small amounts, cheek and forehead kisses.”

The quill freezes in Remus’ hand, “so… what we do now?”

A giggle escapes your lips, “yes, I suppose so.”

“And what’s our story?”

“I think we can keep it simple,” you tell him, “we’ve both harbored feelings for one another for a long time, and you finally decided to act on them last night after I came back from my spoiled date. Said you didn’t want me with anyone else but you.”

“Simple enough, and partly true. None of the imbeciles at this school are good enough for you, dove,” he answers sweetly, nudging your arm.

“We got this fake dating thing down so easy,” you murmur, leaning closer to him, “you’re already sweeping me off my feet with words like that, Moons.”

“Soooooo where are we going?” you ask Remus, your swinging hands intertwined as you walk through Hogsmeade on a brisk, sunny Saturday in October.

“Patience, dove, it’s meant to be a surprise.”

You frown at him, your most convincing pout and puppy dog eyes gracing your face.

“Don’t even try it,” he says with a laugh, long since immune to your charms. Or at least that’s what he lets you believe.

“I swear to Merlin, Remus Lupin, if you’re taking me to Madame Pudifoot’s I’m ending this whole contract right now. Our friendship too.”

His brown eyes dance with amusement and he squeezes your hand, “relax, I’m not that pathetic. Anyways, the place has always given me a headache.”

You sag in relief, “thank Merlin."

You continue your walk down the cobblestone street, taking in how pretty the town looks in the fall, with the red, orange, and yellow leaves painting the trees like fire. Though it’s a sight you’ve seen before, it’s one you’ve never gotten sick of. Remus slows and you look up, “we’re here.”

Your whole body brightens, eager eyes drinking in the sight of your shared favorite place in Hogsmeade- The Winter Village Bookstore. Some of your favorite moments at Hogwarts have happened in this book store. You’re certain your laughter and shared whispers are pressed between the bookshelves like words are preserved within the pages of books. On rainy Hogsmeade days, while everyone else would stuff themselves into the cramped corners of the Three Broomsticks, you and Remus got lost in worlds far, far away, where you could forget your own realities and trade skins like clothing.

“You can get any book of your choosing, on me.”

A genuine gasp leaves your throat and you throw yourself at your best friend, clinging to him with so much gratitude and affection. His smell is familiar as he wraps his arms around your waist- like chocolate, campfire, and old books. The wool of his favorite brown sweater presses against your cheek, equal parts soft and just the slightest bit coarse. You beam up at Remus through your eyelashes, placing a daring kiss to his cheek before breaking the hug and dragging him along inside. You miss the hue of pink that creeps up his neck to his cheeks.

Your hands remain intertwined as you wander through the store, stopping often to brush your fingers over books you’ve desired for years and stopping even oftener to pick up a copy of something you’ve never seen but ache to know. Though you’ve been so many times before, each visit feels totally different. You always stumble across hidden treasures packed within the cluttered shelves, secret gifts just waiting to be found. Soon enough your arms are laden with books that you and Remus carry to a quiet corner, spreading out the pile before you as you attempt to make one of the hardest decisions ever- picking only one.

Though you’re totally alone and have no one to perform for, your best friend still finds himself pressed against your side, arm propped behind your back as he leans his weight onto one hand, and consequently into you. The heat radiating off his body keeps away the cool chill of fall and you subconsciously cuddle closer.

“I don’t think I can ever decide,” you sigh mournfully.

Remus rests his chin on your shoulder, eyes scanning over the array of colorful covers, “well let’s see if we can narrow it down, hm?”

He points to one book with a yellow color, “I’ve read that one before. It’s not worth your money.”

You snicker, setting the book in your newly designated ‘no’ pile, “harsh critic.”

The brunette shrugs, “just being honest, dove. It’s not worth your time nor my money.”

“Oh,” he adds, pointing to a red paperback, I have that one at home. I’ll ask my mum to owl it if you wanna read it.”

The book goes to your no pile too. After some serious debate- debate most people would think is far too serious for a couple books- you’ve narrowed down your choices to two. In your opinion, having to choose feels a bit like death. Remus tends to agree.

Your fingers trace delicately over the covers, eyes flitting between both tentatively, “they both sound so interesting. And look, they’d be such pretty editions to my bookshelves too.”

“I know you struggle to be decisive, dove,” he teases gently, “but you have to pick at some point. Unfortunately, we can’t actually spend the rest of our Hogwarts careers stuck here in this book shop.“

You turn to mockingly pout at him and your noses brush, his face much closer than you realized. Your breath hitches as you catch his equally surprised gaze, “sorry, Rem.”

He doesn’t move right away, “that’s okay.”

Finally, you clear your throat and turn back around, your grip on the books having grown impossibly tighter, “you pick.”

Remus is quiet for a moment, deep in thought, before his chest presses closer to your back as he grabs the book in your left hand, “this one.”

You’re too breathless to argue. What was going on with you?

The teasing from your friends is almost nonstop ever since you and Remus announced your ‘relationship’ to them. It’s a lot of smug smirks and knowing glances when you tuck yourself into Remus’ side in the common room or when he kisses your temple as he reaches across you at breakfast to grab toast. To you, none of these acts of affection feel any different than normal. But to them, you suppose, the added label makes a world of difference.

Okay, so maybe you lied a little. It’s not totally the same as before. Now, every time you cuddle up and receive his affection you feel a faint flutter in your stomach. Perhaps it’s just nerves of keeping up the ruse. It has to be. Because it can’t mean anything but that.

This evening, you walk back into the Gryffindor common room after the longest day of your life and groan when you see how crowded the place is. You suppose it only makes sense for a Friday night, but you’d really rather everyone just fuck off. Luckily, your friends have claimed the best spots around the fire so you can at least be cozy and warm. Unfortunately, there are no spots on the couch or chairs left. The floor it is.

Your friends return your sleepy greeting as your bag hits the floor with a dull thud. Sirius grimaces and makes some snarky remark about too many books and being a try-hard. You ignore him. You’re about to settle at Remus’ feet when he stops you, brows furrowing in confusion.

“What’re you doing?”

“Sitting on the floor?”

He tuts at you and pulls you into him, sending you stumbling onto his lap. His hand grips your waist protectively as he seats you comfortably atop him. Heat rises to your cheeks but you blame the fire.

“That’s better,” Remus mutters softly, “comfortable?”

You nod sheepishly as you shift a little against him before settling. You’re comfortable, but the heat pooling in your core is less so. Your best friend’s hand finds your thigh and he grips it gently, thumb absentmindedly sweeping up and down. It takes everything in you to silence the hitch of your breath.

“I’d rather you not get down on your knees for me in front of all our friends,” Remus mutters in your ear teasingly. You don’t look at his face, but you know he’s smirking. You choke on your spit and smack him in the chest, furiously whispering his name.

“I’m not into voyeurism, dove,” he adds softly.

The embarrassment on your face is apparent and you know he’s getting a kick out of it, so you choose to burrow yourself into the crook of his neck instead.

“Stop! Please! It’s not funny!”

“You two are absolutely disgusting,” Sirius complains.

Remus shoots him a glare as he strokes his fingers over your head, “you’re the one who was always trying to get me to date someone, Pads. And now that I have someone, you’re complaining?”

Sirius smirks, “never said I wasn’t a hypocrite, mate.”

Your best friend grumbles something even you can’t hear and pulls you a little closer, if that’s possible. His gentle and insistent touch sends a shiver up your spine.

“Cold?”

You nod, burying your fingers in his sweater and tucking your socked feet below his thigh. Though you’re not cold, not really, you won’t stand up the chance to be as close to Remus as possible. His lips press against your brow and you grip onto him tighter.

“You don’t have to do all that you know,” you murmur softly.

His lips move against your skin, “what do you mean?”

You pull away a little, eyes catching his pretty brown ones, “be this affectionate. They already believe us.”

Remus’ brows furrow, “am I making you uncomfortable? I’m sorry if I am I-“

You shake your head vehemently, shutting him up, “no, love. I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable either. To feel like you have to touch me extra.”

Your best friend is silent for a moment and you worry you’ve said something wrong. His thumb rubs circles on your thigh contemplatively, “I’m not uncomfortable. I don’t mind showing you affection. In fact, I quite like riling you up.”

“I’m not riled up!”

He smirks, “your face says otherwise.”

You groan and smack his chest, “bastard.”

Remus catches your hand and intertwines your fingers, “you love it. You love me.”

He’s right, of course. You really do love him. And you’re starting to think that’s the problem.

As you smooth out your shirt for the umpteenth time, your hands shake. Tonight. Tonight you’re going to end your fake relationship even though there’s still three weeks left in the semester. You just can’t do it anymore, not when you’ve undeniably caught feelings for your best friend. As much as you want him, he’s not yours to have nor to keep. Remus certainly doesn’t love you like that. Doesn’t see you the way you see him. And that’s perfectly, totally, fine, but you can’t keep pretending when it’s slowly killing you. You don’t know why you’re nervous. You’d both agreed that you could end the fake relationship at any time, no questions asked, and you don’t think Remus will push to know your reasoning when you tell him. It’s just that, you think he’ll figure out your reasoning all on his own. He probably already does know. if you’re being honest, and he’s just too nice to mention it. That’s the worst part. He probably knows, or will know soon enough, and he won’t say anything. He’ll be just as kind and lovely as always, but things will slowly, secretly change. Remus will start to keep things from you, and distance himself slightly, until you’re no longer his best friend. He’ll do it in a way that you won’t even realize what’s happened until it’s too late. And he won’t blame you either, just claiming it’s a natural way of things.

So yeah, you’re, understandably, a nervous wreck. As you look over your outfit one more time Lily sighs and throws a pillow at you, “come onnnnn. You look great. Let’s go!”

“But is my shirt too-“

“No!” Mary interjects, “you look perfect.”

She grabs your hand before you can resist and tugs you down to the common room, the music and chatter growing louder. The brunette spots your friend group easily, her grip remaining firm as she guides you through the crowd, Lily in tow. You try to drag your feet as much as possible, but it’s hopeless. Your friend is relentless.

Mary only lets go of you when you reach the group, and by that point you can’t turn around. James pulls Lily down into his lap easily, like it’s second nature, and presses kisses all over her increasingly red face. Your stomach twists in jealousy. You wish you could have that with Remus. Mary picks up a conversation with Sirius and Peter, leaving you basically alone with your best friend.

He smiles warmly at you, eyes trailing over your figure appreciatively. You’re sure it’s only kindly.

“You look stunning,” Remus mutters, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer, “I’m the luckiest guy in the room tonight.”

You flush, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, “pretty sure that’s James. I mean, look at him.”

He smiles fondly at his lovesick best mates but shakes his head, “nope, I’m still the luckiest guy.”

You don’t have a response to offer, your throat growing dry at the reminder of what you need to confess. You cough and clear your throat. Remus, of course, notices.

“Let me go get you a drink.”

Before you can protest he’s slipped into the crowd, and by the time he returns, it’s not a good time to talk.

You’re not given another chance for the next hour and it’s slowly killing you. The volume of the room, the heat, and Remus against your side is driving you crazy. When Sirius leaves the two of you to run to the restroom you think that now’s finally your chance. You take a shaky breath and turn to him. But your best friend is already staring at you intently. Your stomach does a flip.

“What?”

“You’re just pretty s’all,” Remus replies nonchalantly, as if he has no idea what type of effect he has on you.

“Stop it, Rem.”

“What?”

“Being nice. Sweet.”

He chuckles under his breath and quirks a brow, one of his fingers brushing some hair out of your face, “stop being nice? Now why would I do that?”

You huff, frustrated at how flustered he’s leaving you, “Remus. Please. I- can we talk?”

The brunette opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by Sirius’ bellowing voice, the boy ordering your best friend over to join him in cup pong. He shoots you an apologetic look, quickly kisses your cheek, and heads off, mouthing an apologetic ‘later’ over his shoulder.

It feels a bit like a sign. That maybe you’re not supposed to end things tonight. But you have to. You can’t not do it. The lies and suppressed feelings are too much to bear. Your eyes trail over to your best-friend-turned-crush. You’d been right all along. Fake dating your best friend was too fucking messy. Any romance novel could’ve told you that. But you were stupid. Thought you were the exception. But how can you not be susceptible to Remus Lupin‘s charm? He’s perfect, with swishy brown hair and dark chocolate eyes that see and know everything, with those silver scars scattered across his body in a ruggedly handsome way, with those hands, rough and warm, yet able to give the softest touches, and with that smile, reflecting so much kindness and warmth with one quirk of the lips. He’s smart, funny, clever, and undoubtedly loyal. He’s your best friend. But he’s not yours. Not like that. You know it. He knows it. The girl that’s flirting with Remus knows it too.

Wait, what?

Who the fuck? Where did she come from? And how is she so effortlessly pretty, with her long dark curls falling down her back perfectly, and her manicured nails shimmering in the low light? God, you could never compete with a girl like her. But why should you have to? Even though Remus isn’t yours, she doesn’t need to know that. For all Hogwarts knows, the two of you are together. So then what the fuck is she doing trying to flirt with someone else’s (hypothetical) man? Jealousy curdles in your stomach and your nails dig into your palms angrily. You want to walk over there and say something. Do something to claim what’s yours. But you can’t. Right?

In your anger you don’t notice Remus’ body language- stiff and disinterested. However, you do notice Sirius’ burning stare that says what are you going to do about it?

So, without thinking, you stand up, march over to Remus, and grip him by the shoulder, turning him towards you. You grab the collar of his shirt and smash your lips to his, equal parts lustful and jealous. Your best friend freezes momentarily and you think you’ve ruined it all. But then he’s kissing you back, hard. And it’s so fucking hot, messy, and wet. His teeth graze your lower lip and you groan into his mouth, granting his tongue access to tangle with yours. Remus’ hand grips your waist, tugging you against him, and your free hand finds his chest, steadying yourself. He moans softly into your mouth and your fingers weave into the hair at the nape of his neck. The brunette whimpers a little and your knees grow weak.

A loud wolf whistle finally breaks the kiss and you yank back, your breath hot and heavy as your muddled brain tries to process what’s just happened- that you’ve just had the hottest kiss of your life with your best friend, of all people. Thankfully, Remus looks just as dazed, his brown eyes glossy and his pink lips swollen.

“Oh- Merlin. I- I’m sorry. I.”

“We need to end this,” he answers softly. Calmly.

Your stomach drops and your eyes fill with tears, “Remus I’m sorry, please don’t hate me I just-“

“Dove-“

“She was flirting and I didn’t-“

“Dove-“

“And it all happened so fast that-“

“Dove.”

You go quiet.

“We need to end this so I can kiss you again.”

“What?”

He smirks, “as per our contract, we’re not supposed to kiss. But I really wanna kiss you again. And again. And again. So long as you’ll have me.”

“Oh.”

Remus chuckles lowly and pulls you back against him, “so, is that a yes? Can I kiss you again? And maybe just maybe date you for real this time?”

“I told you fake dating ruins friendships,” you answer with a smirk, lips already reconnecting with his.

[zeph-issilly]

As a 14 year old holothere/physical therian/alterbeing/therianthrope/otherkin/fictionkin/way too many identies lol I completely agree. When I first came into the therian community I was like 10/11 and believed everything someone told me about it (only non-physical, etc.) but I also did research and always knew it was identifying as an animal (except for the first month I thought it was a connection). Eventually I learned more and more and more and did more research (its been my hyperfixation for years). I eventually found the tumblr community shortly after discovering physical therianthropy. Most alterhuman kids don't do enough research. Many don't do any at all and just watch tiktoks/youtube. They need to do research about it. You cannot identify as a therian without research, so many people say they're a therian but then later they find out what it actually is. This is an issue in the tiktok and youtube communities. There is so much misinformation and its just sad tbh. I don't believe minors should have opinions on the nsfw sides of communities. It should not be happening. Minors should not be exposed to that stuff enough to form opinions or even grasp what it even is.

I started rambling lol sorry

Not to be anti-minor or whatever but I think a majority of problems in the therian community stem from the COVID-19 lockdowns causing more teens to be online and discovering the therian community.

The distaste towards anyone expressing their sexuality and gender alongside their therianthropy is caused by sex negative people, mainly sex negative teens, having fundamental misunderstandings of what zoophilia and paraphilic disorders are. This is also why I think the furry community has become kink and sex negative in recent years, because people who hadn't fully deconstructed their learned beliefs surrounding kink and sex were let in during the pandemic.

The muddling of the term "therian" is caused by unknowing teens discovering this community and realizing they could be accepted in a space, possibly for the first time, as long as they just *say* they're a therian. Most likely this comes from queer or neurodivergent kids . From there the term gets watered down as teens who aren't actually therians parrot why they think they are a therian, and other teens pick up that false definition and begin to self-identify as therians.

The aggression towards physical therians, transspecies, and p-shifters is caused by, yet again, a lack of understanding around mental health, disorders, and personal beliefs. I also wouldn't be surprised if teens were told of p-shifting cults and decided that ALL p-shifters were cultists.

What's worse is that these teens are in that stage of life where they're being ignored, denied, and challenged by adults because of their age. They are bound to develop rejection sensitivity because of this. They'll take any amount of correction in their false beliefs as a personal attack on their character. This means they're less likely to listen when we try to correct them, and that there less likely to research these topics outside of their online echo chambers. And since black and white thinking is easier for young teens to understand, the younger the teen is, the harder it is for them to understand the grey areas when presented, ex. not all p-shifters being cultists (which isn't even that hard to understand, these teens just don't have enough experienced with people outside their echo chambers).

Yes, I do think kids can be therians. I also think adults play a role in these misconceptions. This is just how I see it, especially because I rarely see the perpetrators being adults that have done their homework when it comes to these issues.

[thegremlininyourcloset]

do u ever think about how Last Life was Pearl, Mumbo, and Lizzie’s first Life Series?

Last Life, the most brutal of the seasons

Last Life, where your allies could and would betray you at the drop of a hat

Because I do

and I think it says soooo much about them, and why they act the way they do

(Disclaimer: I am really bad at actually watching the POVs for ADHD reasons

also I’m boutta ramble and probably go on like 7 tangents)

@fictfrenzy @adragonsdance

(sorry frenzy I’m forcing u to see fandoms ur not in)

but like

Pearl, to me, seems the least scarred by Last Life—maybe because she’s been in all of them since, so she knows more about how the games usually are

or maybe because she was part of one of the most stable alliances

But at the same time, I think the dynamic she formed with Scott and Cleo absolutely occupies her thoughts all of the time.

Because she gave everything for Scott in Last Life—sure, she was still trying to win, but she gave him two lives.

she was part of one of the strongest alliances. And now she’s not. They trusted each other. Scott broke the rules of the game for her.

And then he left her.

to be honest, I think Pearl appears the lest affected because Double Life left much more obvious marks.

but, Pearl’s reputation as crazy? That started in Last Life.

Scott directly calls her crazy, using Pearl’s behavior as an intimidation tactic, essentially.

So, Last Life wasn’t the big thing that altered her forever that she never left, but it started trends that continued

Now, onto Mumbo.

Mumbo was a member of the Southlands, who famously broke down. He saw his allies turn on each other, he saw them turn on him. and you can see the trust issues that man has, all the way up to Wild Life.

In Secret Life, he refuses to trust the Mounders, even when they still want him around after he’s red. He honestly kinda loses it. He has to complete his tasks. (Which btw, that desire to complete his tasks no matter who he hurts? Boogeyman curse behavior anyone?)

then onto Wild Life, he’s still distrustful of Grian (who notably killed him in Last Life)

(sorry I know the least about Mumbo)

then, there’s Lizzie

Lizzie formed the Fairy Fort alliance, which blew up in her face after Bigb boogey killed Cleo, and they got their revenge by burning the Fairy Fort down.

Lizzie also got some revenge of her own when she killed Bigb while on red.

In Secret Life, Lizzie had no alliances but Joel, and they weren’t a proper team. You cannot tell me she isn’t terrified of being betrayed again.

Moreover, I think Lizzie’s lack of alliances and clear aversion to making them is also partially cause by a fear of losing control. She can’t control other people, she can’t control environmental hazards.

the only person Lizzie can be sure won’t betray her, that won’t screw everything up, is herself.

then, in Wild Life, Lizzie allies with Jimmy and Scar. She’s decided the risk of potential betrayal is worth the reward of not being alone.

I also find it interesting how it’s specifically Jimmy and Scar she allies with—

Scar, who was mostly alone in Secret Life, just like Lizzie. Scar who won Secret Life, but does Lizzie know that?

Jimmy, who dies first four times in a row—except for when Lizzie did. Does Lizzie know that Jimmy has died so early all those times? She was only there for one of them.

Does she think the both of them are harmless? Is that why she’s risking it? She doesn’t seem to have faith in their survival abilities (which is fair they both die a lot in that series)

so why?

Did she realize she had no solid allies, so she just picked the first people she found?

Or did she see herself in them? She calls them idiots but stays with them.

(idk maybe she answers these questions like i said i am bad at consuming canon material it’s my fatal flaw)

and then.

she dies because Grian blew her up. She dies at Jimmy’s side, just seconds before him.

no one hears her last words.

she’s been betrayed again

[krispdreemurr]

Honestly my one single "barometer point" for Knight theories is the presence of a compelling motivation. Why, exactly, would this person want to be the Knight? And so far Carol Knight fits the bill perfectly; I find the idea of the Knight being a grieving mother going to horrific lengths if it means she gets a chance to see her daughter again far more compelling than the idea that it's a character with two known personality traits (those being "rebellious" and "loves Noelle very much")

And the thing is, I see the evidence for Dess Knight. I acknowledge that it'd make some sense if it was her. But at the same time I haven't seen anyone propose a motivation that doesn't just boil down to rehashing Flowey's "driven insane by the isolation his situation creates" motive or the Masked Man's "controlled by someone else" motive, either of which would be really boring IMO. like if I wanted to see those characters I'd just play their respective games, y'know? besides I very much doubt Toby would be that unoriginal, his own self-deprecation notwithstanding

I guess all I'm saying is that he better have a rock-solid reason why Dess is doing all that if it really is her lol. Sorry for the ramble in your inbox - you just seem like a very open-minded person so I thought I could share my perspective with you (:

no yeah I get it. i feel like right now if the trio is what's going on, two characters have clear motives while the third is still ambiguous. I do think that we don't have the full picture of what the plan is or what state dess is in/what she's doing, so I'm kind of holding off on judgment of her motives because we just don't have enough of the picture of Her yet imo

[linkons-most-wanted]

If you think that Sylus doesn't think that mc has to remember her past, than why are you saying that he wants to show her her true nature? 🤔 I don't really think that sorceress mc is the only true mc in the story, they are different people for me actually. Our main mc isn't "false" mc, she's the way she is. Maybe I couldn't understand something, will be grateful if you share your thoughts!

Sorry it took me so long to answer this one, I swear it just showed up in my UI today! So weird.

Anyway, this is one of my favorite things to yap about! Hopefully this will add some clarity and not just be me rambling 😅

I personally interpret all the MCs as being the same soul, with different parts that come out more or less depending on which LI she's with and what's happened in her current life. (I would talk more about IFS and where this "parts" language comes from but that is an essay for another day.)

Of course, that's not a real thing (you can't take the same soul and put them into different circumstances to see what happens) so I think it's just as valid to see them as totally separate people!

And to that point, I definitely see some intentional personality differences for MC across LI's--especially in the memory writing, each LI's team gets to pull out the traits that match that LI best.

But at least within each LI's set of content, I prefer to see the various reincarnations of MC as different lives for the same soul--different parts of the same whole, if you will.

To me, this means that everything that makes Sorceress MC herself also exists within main timeline MC. It's not something Sylus has to create or specifically encourage, so much as it's there and waiting and ready to come out. And we see the writers leaning into that--Sylus's MC has the most gumption by far in how she's written. Using his helmet as a mirror to put on her lipstick? Absolute queen behavior 💯

So, the "true nature" I'm talking about is her inner strength. Her confidence and assertiveness. Her conviction that self-honesty is more important than following rules created by other people.

What I mean is that Sylus is realizing that she doesn't have to remember their life together in Beyond Cloudfall in order to be more honest about her desires. She doesn't have to remember that he's specifically a fiend to know that she's courting something others deem "evil" when she spends time with him, and for her to choose him anyway. She can become stronger and get competitive and boss him around without specifically remembering the game they started in Abyssal Mark.

And think about main timeline MC's life, and all the reasons she'd have to repress these natural traits--she needs to be good to not cause trouble for Josephine. The Hunters Association is a benevolent force, doing true good, so she's had less of a reason to question authority. (Ever is quickly giving her reasons to, though.) In Beyond Cloudfall, she was disillusioned quickly and before she met Sylus. In the main timeline, many of those illusions are still intact. (And I do consider them illusions, more on that in a sec.)

I think there are two main reasons I feel so strongly that Sylus's MC in the main timeline already has all these traits, they're just repressed:

One: I think the social critique applied to the Sanctuary in Beyond Cloudfall also applies to Linkon's government in general. Ever is beloved by the general populace (you have to remember this, other ppl don't know what MC knows) and yet deeply corrupt and evil. The Tommorow's Catch 22 universe shows that the writers also aren't afraid to confront police corruption and ineptitude. So far, MC has trusted the Hunters Association as benevolent--but now we know there's a high-ranking mole, so this organization has failed her too. Imo, it's only a matter of time before she learns the same lesson Sorceress MC learned (or, said another way, the same lesson she learned in a past life)--these seemingly pure, benevolent organizations can't be trusted.

Two: I've experienced repression in this way. I think if you haven't, maybe it seems strange to look at someone who seems meek and shy and watch someone want them to become fierce and assertive. And in some cases, where that shyness is genuine, pressuring that person to be more assertive would be very inappropriate!

But I have lived this character arc, and it 100% feels like becoming myself. Sorceress MC talks about being bound why white threads--the expectations others had of her that required her to be small and want nothing. I see parallels to that in main timeline MC's life, and I strongly suspect we'll see parallels in other MCs written for Sylus, because that writing team is tight with their themes.

When you are strong and assertive and fierce in a way the world does not accept, sometimes you become particularly meek and accommodating as a way to "compensate" for it. So, being shown that it's okay to be strong, it's okay to be assertive, it's okay to be fierce really is being shown your true nature.

There's a distinct difference between a person who's naturally shy, and a person who's naturally assertive but has crammed themselves into a tiny box and become a people pleaser in order to survive. Imo, the writing team is writing Sylus's MC as the latter, not the former, which is why I don't see any conflict in Sylus encouraging her more assertive traits.

It's one of the reasons these characters are so near and dear to my heart 💕

[just-a-carrot]

I have some nice news for once. Though I can't share it just yet, it's brought me some spots of joy during this time, and I hope I can share more soon 😊

Days are still hard but I can feel myself getting a bit better. Sometimes I'll feel pretty good again but then something will hit me hard. Though that will probably continue to happen for some time.

At the very least, I'm not limp and lying on the couch crying or dissociating constantly anymore.

I'm trying to find joy and peace where I can in smaller moments. Sitting with my mom in the morning on the patio. The hummingbird that visits us and all the signs we've suddenly been seeing about hummingbirds in other places. I like to think this is my dad staying near to us, a little spot of light.

Just taking it day by day. I drove for the first time in around 8 years lol. Also taught myself to use my dad's grill to cook dinner. I hope I can help my mom out as much as I can in years to come. It will be hard for her and I worry a lot. Especially as I live so far away.

I'll be here a little over a week longer. I worry also about going back. I think it might hit me hard again then. Also the stress of my work situation will return. So I hope I can find some good distractions and sparks of joy. I'd like to draw some nice things for people for Art Fight then too.

Anyway, this is just a ramble of thoughts. I'm sorry I'm quite absent in general. But I hope in the coming days I'll find some more strength and joy again and can try to ease back in to being more active when I'm able. Thanks everyone for understanding and to everyone who's sent me a kind word 💕