#that just shows how loved and treasured you are

[51voices]

Healing Touch

Kinkvember Day 14: Oral (TW: Emotional & Physical Abuse)

StayC Isa (Lee Chaeyoung) x Male reader

AN: Just a heads-up, this story has more character development and plot, with less smut than usual. I hope you guys still enjoy!

“AGH, fuck!” Isa’s breath comes in shallow gasps, her body still tingling from the waves of pleasure that had just torn through her. The room is filled with the quiet aftermath of your lovemaking, a soft hum of satisfaction buzzing in the dim light. She lies beside you, skin slick with sweat, her heartbeat slowly returning to its natural rhythm. For a few moments, neither of you speaks—just the sound of your breaths mingling as you both come down from the high, letting the silence settle in comfortably.

You lie on your back next to her, staring up at the ceiling with a lazy grin, your chest rising and falling in sync with hers. Isa turns her head toward you, her body still warm and electric from the intensity you just shared. She treasures these moments—the calm after the storm—when every part of her feels alive yet settled. But tonight, something lingers at the edge of her mind, a familiar ache that always seems to resurface after these most intimate moments.

It’s been a year and a half since you became a couple,—since you reached the point where words were no longer enough to hold what you shared. You’ve grown closer with each passing day, yet even now, there are places in you that feel just out of reach to her, guarded and closed. Isa longs to reach those parts, to touch you in ways that go beyond the physical. She feels it most in the aftermath of nights like this—when your bodies speak a language all their own, but she knows there’s still something more, something unspoken between you.

You both bask in the comfortable silence, bodies entangled yet thoughts drifting. Isa’s fingers trace the lines of your chest lazily, feeling the steady warmth of your skin beneath her touch, grounding her. Her body hums with contentment, but her mind is already longing for something beyond it. She feels the quiet tension that always lingers after, a sense of wanting to give herself more fully to you, to offer parts of herself that words or touch can’t fully convey.

After a few moments, Isa turns her head toward you, her voice soft, carrying a hint of hope. “Do you want me to… take care of you?” She doesn’t need to be more specific; you know what she means. She wants to show her love in this way, to take you to that place of vulnerability she finds beautiful.

You smile faintly but shake your head, brushing it off. “No need, baby. You don’t have to. I’m good.”

Isa’s heart sinks, a familiar disappointment settling in. The rejection stings, even more than she lets herself admit. “I know I don’t have to,” she murmurs, her fingers still tracing patterns on your chest, searching for the right words. “I want to.”

Your response is gentle but dismissive, as always. “I’m spent. Too tired,” you say, your voice already softening with sleep as you turn to spoon her from behind. Your arm wraps around her waist, pulling her close, and Isa can feel the warmth of your body against hers, your breath soft against her neck. But despite your words, she feels your half-hardened length pressing against her, betraying your claim of exhaustion.

Her mind swirls as she lies there in your embrace. She’s noticed this pattern before—how you always find a reason to decline her offer. It isn’t the first time you’ve said you’re “tired” or that it “wasn’t necessary.” Each time, it leaves Isa feeling more confused and frustrated. For her, it isn’t about obligation; it’s her way of showing love, an expression as important as anything else you do together. She wants to share that intimacy with you—to feel the satisfaction of bringing you pleasure in her own way. And yet, every time she tries, you have an excuse.

Tonight, with the way your body presses against hers even as your words tell her no, the quiet rejection stings more deeply than ever.

As you hold her, your arm draped over her waist, you sense a shift in her, a quiet tension. Normally, after moments like these, you would both talk softly or drift into easy silence. But tonight, there’s a difference in the air, something in the way her body feels tense against yours, her breath slow but not fully relaxed.

“Chae,” you say, your voice breaking through the silence. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Isa hesitates, biting her lip as her thoughts tumble over one another. Should she brush it off? Or is tonight the night to finally voice what’s been building inside her? After a long moment, she sighs and rolls over slightly to face you, her gaze soft but searching.

“Why don’t you ever let me… you know, give you head?” she begins quietly, her voice uncertain but steady. “It’s not like I don’t want to. I love doing it. I love making you feel good in that way. But you always say no.”

You blink, momentarily taken aback by her honesty. You open your mouth to respond, but Isa continues, the words pouring out now that she’s started.

“I don’t want to pressure you, I swear,” she says, her fingers resting lightly on your chest, feeling the slow, steady beat of your heart. “I just… I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I can’t help but feel like I’m missing something. You say you’re tired, or that you’re fine, but it’s a way for me to show my love, and I want to share that with you. But you keep shutting me down.”

Her words hang in the air between you, a weight both of you can feel. Isa’s heart pounds as she waits for your response, vulnerability tightening in her chest, wondering if you’ll brush it off or finally explain what holds you back.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair, your gaze shifting as if searching for the right words. You’ve always avoided this conversation, not because you don’t care about Isa’s feelings, but because the truth isn’t something you like to acknowledge—not even to yourself.

Finally, after a long pause, you look back at her, your expression serious but softened by affection. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just… complicated.”

The words sit between you, a partial explanation that leaves Isa feeling both relieved and unsatisfied. She knows you well enough to sense that you aren’t ready to share more, so she nods, squeezing your hand gently before releasing it. She won’t push you any further tonight, but a familiar ache remains, lingering like an unanswered question, a space between you still waiting to be bridged.

-----

The next day, as Isa strolled through the market, the weight of your quiet rejection still lingered, gnawing at her thoughts. The autumn air was crisp, carrying the earthy scent of fallen leaves and the comforting aroma of baked goods from nearby stalls, yet the usual warmth she felt here seemed dulled. The marketplace buzzed around her—children laughing, vendors calling out their offers—but Isa moved through it, distracted, her mind tethered to the unsettled feeling that trailed her since last night. As much as she loved you and felt a deep connection, there was this persistent gap—your quiet refusal to let her give you pleasure in the way she most wanted.

It wasn’t that you were harsh about it; you always deflected her with gentle excuses: Not right now, I’m too tired, You don’t need to. But Isa cherished to have this connection with you. For her, it was an act of love, something woven into her very identity. Giving herself in that way made her feel closer, like she was tapping into a deeper level of intimacy, one that words or gestures couldn’t quite match. Yet, every time she offered, you gently closed the door. The rejection, soft as it was, had begun to settle into her, like an ache that didn’t quite fade.

Lost in thought, Isa approached a vegetable stall, barely noticing the colorful array of produce before her. Just as she reached out to pick a ripe tomato, a familiar voice pulled her back to the present.

“Isa? Is that you?”

Isa looked up, her heart skipping a beat. There, standing a few feet away, was Sojang—your ex—smiling at her with an easy familiarity that immediately set Isa on edge. They had met once before, briefly, and Isa hadn’t thought much of her since. But seeing her here, unexpectedly, in the middle of her own thoughts about you, made Isa feel oddly unsettled, as if her internal worries were somehow surfacing before her.

“Oh, hey! Sojang, right?” Isa managed a smile, though it felt tight, her voice sounding more strained than she intended.

Sojang beamed, her expression disarmingly friendly, almost too friendly. “Yes! It’s so nice to run into you. How are you? How’s Y/N?”

Isa nodded, trying to mirror Sojang’s warmth. “I’m good! We’re good, thanks. Just picking up a few things for dinner,” she replied, hoping the conversation would remain light and fleeting.

“Ah, nice, nice,” Sojang said, her eyes gleaming with an interest that made Isa feel oddly exposed. There was something too sweet, too earnest in her tone. Isa couldn’t quite place why, but there was something about Sojang’s bright smile that felt like a performance, a mask that was a little too carefully worn. Isa pushed the thought away, telling herself she was just being paranoid.

They exchanged a few pleasantries, Sojang filling Isa in on her recent return to town. Isa responded politely, though the conversation felt increasingly forced, like Sojang was trying to carve out some deeper connection than Isa wanted. As she listened, Isa’s intuition prickled, a sense that Sojang’s friendliness was intentional, perhaps even calculated. Nothing was explicitly wrong, but her smile seemed too eager, like a practiced act Isa hadn’t signed up to watch.

Then, out of nowhere, Sojang’s tone shifted, becoming playfully teasing. She leaned in, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “So, since you’re with him, your jaw must be tired all the time, huh?” Sojang winked, a sly smirk dancing at the corner of her mouth.

Isa blinked, her mind momentarily freezing. “Uh… what?”

Sojang laughed, seemingly taking Isa’s reaction as bashfulness. “Oh, come on. You don’t have to pretend. I know he’s practically begging you to suck his dick all the time.” She winked again, as if they shared some private joke, as if they were in on the same secret.

Isa’s stomach dropped, a cold, twisting sensation gripping her. “I… um…” Her thoughts raced, scrambling for a response. That wasn’t you. You never begged for oral—if anything, you avoided it. What was Sojang talking about?

Oblivious to Isa’s discomfort, Sojang continued, her tone light, even bubbly. “Oh, trust me. He loves it. He was always asking me for it. Like, constantly. It was kind of his thing, you know? Blowjobs were his main way to unwind.” She giggled, reminiscing with a fondness that felt almost too casual, as if she were sharing a harmless story. “I mean, I used to joke that my jaw was always sore because of him!”

Isa tried to process Sojang’s words, but they didn’t align with the version of you she knew. Her pulse quickened, each beat intensifying the confusion as Sojang’s words echoed in her mind. Constantly? Always asking? She barely managed to keep her expression composed, though her head was spinning. This didn’t sound like you—at least, not the you she knew. The more she tried to piece it together, the more alien it felt.

With effort, she forced a smile, though it wavered. “That’s… interesting. I didn’t know that.”

“Oh yeah!” Sojang replied, all too happy to continue. “If there’s one thing he loved, it was a good blowjob. I used to give them to him all the time. It was like the highlight of his day,” she added with a carefree laugh. “I’m sure you’re keeping him satisfied.”

Isa’s throat tightened, each of Sojang’s words adding to a strange, hollow ache that made her feel smaller, less certain. The more Sojang talked, the more Isa felt a creeping sense of inadequacy. She wanted to respond, to say something—anything—but found herself grasping for words that wouldn’t come. You had never once hinted that you wanted that from her, and every time she offered, you politely refused. Yet here was Sojang, painting a completely different picture of you, one that seemed to revel in a kind of pleasure you wouldn’t let her give.

A sliver of doubt wormed its way into her thoughts, each repetition of Sojang’s words chipping away at her confidence. Was it her? Was she the problem?

“Yeah, um, well…” Isa stammered, her voice trailing off as she glanced down, feeling awkward and exposed in a conversation that had turned sharp without warning. Sojang kept talking, oblivious to Isa’s growing discomfort, but Isa could barely focus on her words. All she could think about was the contrast Sojang’s experience painted, a version of you that felt foreign, unsettling.

If you loved it so much, why didn’t you want it from her?

The question echoed in her mind, nagging, each repetition a sharper edge to her doubt. After a few more forced pleasantries, Sojang finally said her goodbyes, leaving Isa standing alone in the crowded market, the buzz of conversation and laughter around her feeling oddly muted. As Sojang walked away, a heavy feeling settled in Isa’s chest, as if she’d been blindsided, caught off guard in a game she hadn’t known she was playing. Sojang’s cheerful demeanor had made it seem casual, unimportant even, but Isa’s heart felt weighed down by confusion and self-doubt.

On the walk home, the conversation replayed in her mind, every detail sharpening the ache inside her. Sojang’s words kept circling back, as if taunting her: you loved it, needed it, craved it. So why didn’t you want it from her? Was something wrong with her? Did you not trust her the way you had trusted Sojang? Or was there something deeper—something about her that just didn’t move you in the same way?

The doubt gnawed at her, a relentless churning that she couldn’t shake. She told herself not to let Sojang’s words get to her, that people change, that your past with her was just that—the past. But the seeds of insecurity had been planted, and they were starting to take root, their grip tightening around her heart.

More than anything, something about Sojang’s comments unsettled her on a deeper level. The way Sojang had been too familiar, too knowing, as if she’d relished the chance to make Isa feel small. Isa tried to shake the thought, to dismiss it as paranoia, but the suspicion lingered, settling uncomfortably in the back of her mind.

By the time she reached home, the unease had only grown stronger, her heart weighed down with questions she was almost afraid to ask.

-----

That evening, you and Isa sat down for dinner together. You had prepared a comforting meal of pasta in a rosé sauce with a side of golden, buttery garlic bread. On Isa’s plate was a vibrant mix of grilled vegetables and quinoa sprinkled with fresh herbs. Normally, the familiar flavors and your shared meal would soothe her, but tonight, they barely registered. Her mind was elsewhere, tangled in the remnants of her encounter with Sojang and the unsettling thoughts that had trailed her all the way home.

You began chatting about your day, sharing funny stories from work, your face lighting up as you recounted your coworker’s clumsy misadventures with the new coffee machine. Isa nodded along, trying to stay present, even forcing a few laughs. But her mind kept drifting back to the market, to Sojang’s words, each one chipping at her sense of ease, making her quieter than usual.

After a moment, you looked up from your plate, brow furrowing as you noticed her stillness. “Hey, is the food okay?” you asked gently, eyes filled with concern. “You’ve barely touched it.”

Isa shook her head quickly, offering a faint smile. “Oh, no, it’s good,” she replied, taking a small, obligatory bite of her vegetables, though she hardly tasted them. She didn’t want to bring up Sojang or the thoughts stirring inside her—not now, not over dinner. But she couldn’t shake the tension, and every time she looked up, she could feel your worried gaze settling on her.

The two of you finished the meal in subdued silence, Isa barely eating, her appetite dulled by the emotions she was wrestling with. You quietly gathered the dishes and moved to the sink, washing them with your usual care, while Isa slipped into the bedroom, feeling the weight of her unresolved thoughts pressing down on her, heavier than before.

Later that evening, Isa sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her reflection in the mirror, her mind a whirl of doubt and frustration. From the bathroom, she could hear the sound of running water as you washed up, the quiet rhythm amplifying the silence around her. She tried to focus on her nightly routine, brushing her hair, massaging moisturizer into her skin, but her thoughts kept dragging her back to the market—to Sojang’s playful, almost taunting voice. I know he’s practically begging you to suck his dick all the time. The words echoed in her mind, louder and sharper with each repetition, until she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

How could Sojang’s experience with you have been so different from her own? Isa had tried to offer you that same intimacy, that same pleasure, only to be gently brushed off each time. She wanted to feel close to you in every way, to connect with you on the most vulnerable level, but your repeated refusals… they were beginning to feel like a rejection of her, not just of the act.

By the time she crawled into bed, you were coming out of the bathroom, hair damp, smile easy. Normally, Isa would feel comforted by your presence, but tonight her body tensed as you slid in beside her. You wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close like always, but instead of the familiar warmth she usually felt, Isa found herself resisting, a strange weight pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Hey,” you murmured, noticing her stiffness. You pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been quiet since dinner.”

Isa swallowed, managing a weak smile though her heart pounded in her chest. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

You didn’t look convinced. Shifting slightly, you propped yourself up on one elbow to study her face, concern etched in your expression. “Chae? You seem… off. Did I do something?”

Isa felt her throat tighten. She didn’t want to talk about it—not yet, not when her thoughts felt this raw and tangled. She wasn’t even sure how to explain it without sounding insecure. “I’m just tired,” she repeated softly, turning her head away. “Can we talk tomorrow?”

You hesitated, clearly worried, but you nodded, giving her space. “Alright,” you said gently, settling back down beside her. “But if something’s bothering you, you can tell me. You know that, right?”

Isa didn’t respond, keeping her back to you as she curled up on her side. Normally, she would lean into you, her back against your chest, feeling safe and grounded. But tonight, she held herself apart, feeling an unfamiliar anger simmering beneath her sadness. You shifted behind her, closing the gap between you, your arm slipping around her waist again, but she stayed still, not moving to nestle into your embrace.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice soft, tinged with guilt. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”

Your words tugged at her heart, yet Isa couldn’t bring herself to respond. She wasn’t even sure if it was something you had done, or something inside herself that had shifted. She stayed turned away, eyes shut tightly, fighting against the frustration building in her chest. The image of Sojang’s cheerful, too-knowing smile and her casual comments gnawed at her, each one twisting further into her insecurities.

Eventually, Isa drifted into an uneasy sleep, her body still tense with your arm draped over her. But for the first time, the warmth she usually found in your touch felt distant, as if a wall had formed between you, quiet but unmistakable

-----

When Isa woke the next morning, sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, but it did nothing to ease the tension gripping her chest. She turned over, expecting to find you still asleep beside her, but you were already up, pulling on a t-shirt at the foot of the bed. You smiled when you saw her stirring.

“Morning, beautiful,” you said gently, crossing over to kiss her forehead. Your touch was familiar, warm, but Isa’s thoughts were elsewhere—trapped in yesterday’s conversation with Sojang.

Isa sat up slowly, her mind racing, replaying Sojang’s words over and over. You slipped back into bed beside her, draping an arm around her waist like you always did, but today, it felt wrong. She tensed, her skin crawling with unease. You kissed her shoulder, your lips soft against her skin, but Isa couldn’t stop the flood of thoughts—the image of Sojang talking so casually about how much you had loved receiving oral.

She tried to smile, tried to shake the thoughts from her head, but the tension inside her was building too fast. Isa pulled away from your touch, sitting at the edge of the bed, her hands trembling slightly in her lap. You immediately noticed the shift, frowning as she distanced herself.

“Chae... what’s going on?” you asked, your voice gentle but filled with concern. “You’re not yourself. Did I do something?”

Isa bit her lip, her chest tightening. She could feel the frustration and doubt bubbling up inside her, and she couldn’t hold it in anymore. The words tumbled out before she could stop them.

“Why won’t you let me do it?” she asked quietly, her voice tense.

You furrowed your brow, confused. “Do what?”

Isa’s hands tightened in her lap. She turned slightly toward you, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Give you head. Why won’t you ever let me? Why was it okay with Sojang but not with me?”

You instantly stiffened at her words. Your entire body went rigid, eyes narrowing slightly as you processed what she was asking. Your reaction was immediate and unmistakable.

“Wait... why did you and Sojang meet up?” you asked, your voice sharp with unease.

Isa blinked, caught off guard by your sudden tension. She frowned, shaking her head, thinking you were deflecting. “Seriously? That’s your concern right now? You’re trying to change the subject.”

Your eyes stayed fixed on her, body still stiff with discomfort. “No, I—I’m just asking—”

“Sojang told me everything,” Isa interrupted, her voice rising with emotion. “She said you two broke up on good terms. She made it sound like you had this perfect relationship and then just decided to part ways. She implied that blowjobs were practically your favorite thing.” Isa’s voice wavered as her insecurity bubbled up. “She made it sound like she could give you something I can’t. Is that why you keep pushing me away?”

Your face tightened further at the mention of Sojang, your jaw clenching as your eyes flickered with something Isa couldn’t quite read. She mistook your reaction for guilt, for confirmation of her worst fears.

“If that’s what you want—if you still want her—I can leave,” Isa continued, her voice cracking. “If you’d rather be with Sojang, just tell me. I won’t stand in the way.”

You blinked, expression shifting from tense to confused. “Wait, what?” you asked, clearly thrown off. “Leave? Babe, what are you talking about?”

“You guys are perfect for each other. I get it. If she’s still important to you, I won’t—”

“Chae, don’t think like that,” you interrupted, your voice firm but bewildered. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. That’s not what this is about.”

Isa froze, tears pricking her eyes as she stared at you, her frustration and confusion now battling with her fear of rejection. “Then why?” Her voice broke, and her tears finally spilled over. “Why won’t you let me show you how much I love you? Why do you keep pushing me away? What’s wrong with me?”

Your face softened with guilt and regret, shoulders sagging as if the weight of what you had been holding back was finally crashing down on you. You reached out for her, but Isa pulled away, too hurt to accept your comfort.

“Honey, please, listen to me,” you said, your voice low, thick with emotion. “It’s not you. I swear, it’s not about you.”

“Then what is it?” Isa demanded, her voice trembling with frustration and heartache.

“Sojang...” you began, your voice strained, “she’s not what you think.”

Your hands trembled in your lap, eyes darting away from Isa’s as the weight of your past pressed down on you. You could feel your throat tighten, chest aching as memories you had tried to bury for so long began to resurface. Isa’s heart pounded in her chest, watching you with growing concern. She had never seen you like this—so vulnerable, so visibly distressed. You were always the strong one, the one who held her together when she felt like falling apart. But now, sitting there with your hands shaking and your gaze far away, she realized how much you had been hiding from her.

You took a deep breath, jaw tightening before you finally spoke, your voice low and strained. “Sojang... she’s not who you think she is. And we didn’t break up on good terms. We didn’t end things cleanly like she made it sound. I didn’t even tell her it was over face to face. I just... I left.”

Isa’s eyes widened slightly, her heart already sinking at the pain she could hear in your voice. “What do you mean?” she asked softly, not wanting to push, but needing to understand.

You stared at your hands, fingers fidgeting with the sheets as you tried to explain. “Sojang… She was my first girlfriend. I didn’t know any better back then. I didn’t have anything to compare it to. I was just happy that someone wanted to be with me, you know?” You glanced up at Isa, your eyes filled with a mixture of shame and sadness. “I thought that was love.”

Isa’s heart broke at your words. She could see it now—the innocence, the trust you had given Sojang, not knowing what a healthy relationship looked like. You had believed Sojang loved you, that the way she treated you was normal, and it made her stomach turn.

“At first, everything seemed fine,” you continued, your voice growing quieter. “But slowly, she started changing. She got controlling. She’d use sex as a way to manipulate me.”

Isa felt a lump form in her throat as your words sank in. She could see how much this was hurting you, how difficult it was for you to relive these memories. She wanted to reach out and comfort you, but she didn’t want to interrupt. You needed to get this out.

“She’d use it to punish me,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “Whenever I did something she didn’t like, whenever I tried to pull away from her, she’d… use her mouth to cause me pain. I know that sounds weird, but she knew exactly how to hurt me. She’d make it seem like it was this intimate thing, but it wasn’t. It was about control, about making me feel powerless.”

Isa’s breath caught in her throat, her mind reeling. The idea that Sojang had weaponized something so intimate, something that should have been about love and connection, made her feel sick.

“It got worse,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “If I flinched, if I tried to tell her to stop, she’d accuse me of not being a real man. She’d say things like, ‘How can you not like blowjobs? What kind of guy doesn’t enjoy that?’ She made me feel like there was something wrong with me. And when I started to believe that... I didn’t know how to leave.”

You swallowed hard, your voice growing even quieter as the memories overwhelmed you. “Sojang would say things like, ‘Don’t you know how lucky you are to have a girl like me suck you off? You should be grateful.’ And for a while, I believed her. I thought… Maybe she was right. I didn’t feel lucky, but I felt like I had to be. Like I was crazy for not wanting it.”

Isa’s heart shattered as she listened. She had no idea that Sojang had twisted something so intimate into a way to control and demean you. Your hands clenched in your lap as you continued, the words pouring out now, like you had been holding them in for too long.

“I hated it,” you said, your voice raw. “But I stayed because I thought that was what love was supposed to be. I thought… I thought maybe this was all I was worth. Maybe she was right.”

Isa’s tears fell freely now. She wanted to reach out, to tell you that none of it had been your fault, that you weren’t the problem, but she stayed silent, letting you finish.

“I started dreading it,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly. “Every time she’d order me to undress, I knew it wasn’t about love or making me feel good. It was about control. And I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t know how to stop it.”

Isa’s stomach churned, imagining the fear and helplessness you must have felt, trapped in a relationship with someone who wielded intimacy as a weapon.

“I couldn’t take it anymore,” you said, your voice barely audible now. “I reached my breaking point, and one night, I just… I left. I snuck out. Cut all contact. I didn’t even tell her it was over. I was scared she’d pull me back in again. I was scared she’d make me feel like I was the problem, all over again.”

Isa’s tears blurred her vision as she reached out, placing a hand on your arm. “Oh my God… I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.” Her voice cracked, filled with sorrow and regret. She couldn’t believe how much you had been holding inside, how much you had been carrying alone.

You finally looked up at her, your expression filled with pain but also relief, as if finally saying these words had lifted some of the weight from your chest. But your eyes still carried that haunted look, as though the trauma lingered, even after all this time.

“That’s why I can’t let you do it,” you said softly, your voice hoarse. “It’s not about you, baby. I love you. But every time you offer, all I can think about is her. The pain. The manipulation. I don’t want to go back there.”

Isa’s heart shattered all over again. She had thought your refusals were about her, but now she saw it for what it was—a way to protect yourself from reliving the nightmare that had nearly broken you.

Tears streamed down her face as she scooted closer to you, wrapping her arms around you tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered through her tears. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

You didn’t cry, but she could feel the tension in your body, the way your muscles were taut, as though you were barely holding yourself together. You had always been the strong one, the one who held everything together. And now, here you were, crumbling in her arms, showing her the depth of your vulnerability.

“You’re not weak,” Isa whispered, pressing her forehead against your shoulder, her voice choked with emotion. “You’re not. You’re the strongest person I know, and I love you so much.”

You didn’t speak for a moment, but your hand found hers, squeezing it gently. It was a small gesture, but Isa knew what it meant. You were letting her in, slowly, piece by piece.

The two of you sat there in silence, Isa holding you as if her embrace could somehow mend the cracks in your heart. She wished it could. She wished she could erase all the pain your ex had caused you, take away the trauma that had scarred you so deeply. But she knew that wasn’t possible.

All she could do was be there for you. To love you. To show you that this—your love—was real, and safe, and nothing like the twisted version Sojang had given you.

“I love you,” Isa whispered again, her tears dampening your shoulder. 

-----

In the days and weeks following your confession, something shifted between you and Isa—not in a bad way, but in a way that made her feel even closer to you. She hadn’t realized just how much you had been holding inside, how much of yourself you’d kept hidden. Now that you’d shared your past, there was a lightness about you that Isa had never seen before.

You were still the strong, steady man she’d always known, but now there was a vulnerability you allowed yourself to show. You smiled more, laughed a bit louder, and even in the quiet moments between you, there was a newfound ease. It wasn’t that your trauma had vanished—it never would—but confiding in Isa had released some of its hold, and that brought her a profound sense of love and pride.

Isa never pushed, nor did she bring up what you had told her unless you wanted to talk. She understood that healing was not something that happened overnight, and she didn’t want you to feel rushed or like you had to “fix” yourself for her. She was simply there, letting you go at your own pace, accepting that some things might never change and that this was okay.

Still, she made sure you knew she was there for you, whenever you were ready.

One evening, as you lay in bed together, Isa turned to you, cupping your face gently. “I just want you to know,” she whispered, her voice warm with love, “that whenever—or if ever—you feel ready, I’d love to show you what real love feels like. Not the kind that hurts, not the kind that controls. Just love. Real, safe, and full of trust.”

Your eyes softened, and you covered her hand with yours, saying nothing but giving her a look that held everything she needed to know. You weren’t ready yet, but Isa’s patience meant the world to you.

So, life continued. You grew more open, letting yourself be more at ease. Isa noticed the subtle ways you began to change—the quiet confidence that started to return, the warmth in your touch, the way you kissed her a little longer each morning. Your bond grew deeper, and Isa felt a pride she couldn’t put into words, watching you heal, knowing she had created a space for you to feel safe.

Then, as time passed, things shifted. Slowly but surely, the weight you carried seemed lighter, and the shadows in your gaze began to lift. You still had difficult days, times when memories resurfaced, and Isa could sense your mind drifting to a place she couldn’t reach. But you no longer shut her out. You let her in, allowing her to be with you even when the darkness threatened to creep back in.

And Isa never pushed. She loved you, and that was more than enough.

Soon, your birthday arrived, a day Isa had been secretly looking forward to it. There was no need for grand gestures—it was just a day for the two of you, a time to celebrate how far you had come together. You spent the day as you always did—laughing, reminiscing, and filling each other’s lives with stories and small joys. That evening, after a cozy dinner at your favorite little restaurant, you walked home hand-in-hand, the city lights shimmering like stars around you, the crisp night air wrapping you both in a sense of warmth and belonging.

When you got home, you pulled her into your arms as soon as you crossed the doorway, your embrace tender but filled with affection. Isa’s heart fluttered as you whispered softly against her hair.

“Happy birthday,” she murmured, looking up at you with a soft smile.

“Thank you,” you replied, gazing back at her with a warmth that made her feel like the only person in the world.

The rest of the evening was spent together, curled up on the couch, comfortable and content in your little bubble. Isa had no expectations for the night; she was simply grateful to be with you, sharing another beautiful year. But as the night wore on, she noticed something different in your demeanor—a quiet intensity in your gaze, a sense of anticipation in your touch, as though you were building up to something.

Later, as you lay in bed, you turned to her, your eyes searching hers, the sincerity and calmness in your gaze making her heart race.

“Chae,” you began softly, your voice a bit shy, a hint of hesitation as you traced gentle patterns on her arm. “I’ve been thinking about what you said… about showing me what real love feels like.”

Isa blinked, her heart suddenly pounding. She hadn’t expected you to bring it up—not tonight, not even ever if you didn’t want to. She sat up a little, holding your gaze, her excitement barely contained.

You took a steadying breath, your fingers curling around hers. “I think I’m ready,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to try… with you.” Your eyes softened, the weight of your words filled with trust. “I trust you, more than anyone.”

Isa’s breath caught, her heart swelling with joy. You had always been the one to gently refuse when she offered to give you head, and she had never thought you’d be the one to ask.

And then, as if reading her thoughts, you added softly, “I was wondering if… if you’d still want to. I mean, if you still wanted to… you know…”

“Yes!” Isa answered, her voice bright with excitement before you could even finish your sentence. Her cheeks flushed, a soft, shy laugh escaping her as she realized how eagerly she’d spoken. “I mean… yes,” she whispered, this time more softly, her face glowing with love and anticipation.

Your eyes lit up at her response, and Isa couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. She’d been waiting for this—not just because of the act itself, but because it meant you trusted her in a way you hadn’t been able to before.

“You’re sure?” Isa whispered, her voice tender, but her heart raced with excitement. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to… I’d be happy to wait.”

You smiled, reaching up to gently cup her cheek. “I’m sure,” you murmured, warmth in your eyes. “I want this. With you.”

With a soft smile, Isa moved closer, leaning down to press gentle kisses along your chest, her lips trailing slowly, savoring the feel of your skin. Each kiss was a promise, filled with the love she held for you—a love that was gentle, safe, and real, just as she had always hoped to give.

As her kisses moved lower, Isa could feel your breath deepen, the slow rise and fall of your chest as you allowed yourself to relax. Her hands slid down your torso, brushing over the hard planes of your stomach, and she smiled to herself, feeling the slight shiver of your muscles responding to her touch. There was something deeply intimate about these moments—something Isa had craved, not just for herself, but for you.

She reached your hips, her fingers teasing along the waistband of your boxers, and she could feel the tension there, the quiet anticipation that came with trusting someone enough to let them in. Isa paused, her lips brushing against your hip bone as she looked up at you, meeting your eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice a soft whisper, wanting to make sure you were truly ready.

Your gaze met hers, your breathing a little heavier now, but there was no hesitation in your eyes. You gave her a small nod, your hand threading gently through her hair. “I’m okay,” you whispered. “I’m more than okay.”

With a gentle nod from you, Isa slowly pulled down your boxers, revealing you to her. For a moment, she simply paused, admiring you, taking in the quiet beauty of this moment—your body, open and vulnerable, trusting her completely in the most intimate way. Her heart swelled with love, understanding that this wasn’t just about the act itself but about showing you that intimacy could be safe and beautiful.

Her hand wrapped around you first, her touch soft and unhurried. She felt you respond immediately, a subtle tension running through your muscles as her fingers moved in a gentle, deliberate rhythm. Isa’s heart skipped as she saw you like this—open, trusting, letting her guide each moment. She brushed her thumb over the sensitive tip, watching as your breath hitched, your hand tightening slightly in her hair, not guiding or pushing, just resting there, a silent expression of trust.

Isa lowered her head, taking you into her mouth with tender care, her lips wrapping slowly around you as she savored the warmth of your skin. She moved deliberately, her hands resting on you, steady and reassuring, her mouth exploring you with gentle affection. Each movement was thoughtful, her focus entirely on you, every moment filled with care.

She heard soft sounds escape your lips—quiet, breathy sighs that let her know you were starting to let go. Your hand stayed light on her head, not guiding, just there, a reassuring reminder that you felt safe. Isa moved at her own pace, unhurried, making sure each second was filled with intention and love. There was no rush, no goal; she simply wanted you to feel safe, to understand that this could be pure and healing.

Isa found herself enjoying each second, more deeply than she had expected. It wasn’t just about your pleasure—it was about seeing you let go, watching your body respond in a way that showed you were leaving the pain of the past behind. A quiet warmth flooded her chest, a sense of fulfillment, knowing she was finally able to give you this kind of love and closeness.

As she continued, Isa felt your breathing grow more unsteady, your muscles tensing as you edged closer. Her movements remained gentle but purposeful, her hand and mouth moving in sync. Every soft sound you made, every shiver, filled her with pride, knowing you were allowing her to take you to this vulnerable place. To her, it felt like a gift you were both sharing.

A moment later, your breath hitched sharply, your hand tightening in her hair as if bracing yourself. “Oh, fuck, Chae,” you breathed out, voice thick with a blend of surprise and pleasure. Hearing her name from you, Isa felt a surge of warmth, a quiet assurance that you were allowing yourself to feel fully, without holding back.

Your body tensed one last time, every muscle tightening as Isa felt the warmth of your release fill her mouth, unexpectedly intense. Her eyes widened in slight surprise, her heart swelling with the depth of the trust you had placed in her. The sensation was overwhelming, but she held steady, her lips remaining gentle and firm around you as she guided you through each wave, ensuring you felt safe, cherished, and seen.

As each pulse flowed into her, Isa’s movements grew even more tender, her hands holding you with care, a gentle presence as she felt you surrender completely. She swallowed softly, letting you essence fill her completely, her touch light and reassuring. Each subtle twitch, each surge of release, was a testament to the vulnerability you were willing to share, and she received it all with love.

With every pump, Isa could feel your tension melting away, and a quiet pride blossomed within her. She knew what this moment meant—that you had entrusted her with something sacred, a vulnerability once guarded. She felt a sense of fulfillment, a deep sense of joy and purpose, as she coaxed you through each wave, letting you know with every gentle movement that you were safe and deeply cherished.

Keeping her mouth softly around you, Isa lingered, savoring the warmth of every response from your body. Each twitch, each gentle pulse, filled her with satisfaction, a connection she had longed to share with you. This was her love in action, a gift of care and devotion. The fullness of that feeling glowed within her, making each touch an act of affection.

When you glanced down, your breath caught at the sight of her—her mouth still gently surrounding you, her eyes meeting yours with a look so full of care, warmth, and adoration that it sent a shiver through you. Her gaze was unwavering, her expression beautifully open, filled with a love that went beyond words.

With a slow, tender swirl of her tongue, Isa gently lapped up every last trace, her movements graceful and attentive, savoring each second. Her lips stayed around you until she released you with a soft, lingering pop. She then pressed a gentle kiss to your tip, a shimmering thread connecting her lips to you for a moment before it faded, leaving her with a soft smile of pure contentment.

Feeling deeply fulfilled, Isa continued to shower you with tender kisses, each one unhurried and filled with meaning. She traced a delicate path along your length, her mouth warm, her kisses gentle and intentional, as though committing every inch of you to memory. Her heart swelled with love and pride, knowing that you were allowing her to be this close, to give you this intimacy. Each kiss felt like a balm, a way of rewriting the past, easing old hurts with a touch that was gentle and true.

She took her time, mixing in soft licks with her kisses, her gaze never leaving yours. She wanted you to feel her presence in every touch, to know that this was her gift to you—a gift of safety, of trust, of unconditional love.

With one final, lingering kiss to your tip, Isa’s lips held there, as if sealing a promise. Then, slowly, she began to kiss her way back up, her warm lips trailing along your skin, savoring every inch. Each kiss felt like an affirmation, a reminder that she was exactly where she wanted to be, giving herself to you in a way that felt both sacred and healing.

When she finally lay beside you, your chest was still rising and falling, your breath heavy as you came down from the high of her love. Isa rested her hand lightly on your chest, feeling the steady beat of your heart beneath her palm, her own heart swelling with fulfillment and joy.

For a few quiet moments, neither of you spoke, letting the silence fill with warmth and contentment. Finally, as your breathing settled, you turned to Isa, your eyes wide, your expression a mixture of amazement and gratitude. For a moment, you seemed at a loss for words, simply gazing at her with a quiet reverence. And then, with a soft laugh, you shook your head, holding her close, knowing that words could never capture what you both had just shared.

“Honey… that was…” You paused, breath still uneven, feeling your heart race as you searched for words. “I mean, I don’t even know what to say. That was… incredible. You’re incredible.”

Isa’s lips curved into a soft smile, her own chest warm with the closeness you’d just shared. She let out a laugh, eyes bright as she leaned her head against your shoulder. “Speechless?” she teased, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. “I think that might be a first.”

You laughed, shaking your head, still catching your breath. “I don’t think I’ll find words anytime soon. That was… way beyond anything I ever imagined it could be.” You rubbed a hand over your face, still looking a bit dazed. “Chae, you’re just… I can’t believe how... we need to do that again.”

Isa let out another soft laugh, her face lighting up as she took in your reaction, the awe in your expression making her feel more than just appreciated—she felt deeply cherished, like she had given you a gift that mattered. Leaning in, she pressed a playful kiss to your nose. “Glad I could surprise you,” she whispered, her voice filled with warmth.

You grinned, still in awe. “Surprise doesn’t even cover it,” you said, shaking your head, the sincerity in your voice deepening. “That was…wow.”

Isa’s laughter softened, a tender look settling in her eyes as her fingers traced soft, comforting circles on your chest. “Well, I’m glad I could be the one to show you,” she said, her voice gentle, filled with love. “You deserve to feel this way, to feel safe, to feel everything. And… I’m just glad I could be here for you.”

You reached for her hand, intertwining your fingers, giving them a gentle, lingering squeeze. “Thank you,” you murmured, voice thick with emotion as you met her gaze. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to find someone like you.”

Isa’s playful smile softened, her gaze warm as she squeezed your hand in return. “I think we’re both pretty lucky,” she said, a light laugh escaping her as she nestled closer. “And honestly, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You shook your head, still grinning. “Lucky doesn’t even come close,” you whispered, pulling her close, wrapping your arms around her as if to hold onto this moment forever.

You lay together, letting the silence settle between you, comfortable and content, Isa’s heart swelling with joy at having been able to share this moment with you, and you filled with gratitude for her presence, her patience, and her love. She leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your chest, letting her lips linger over the steady beat of your heart. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice soft and full of warmth.

You pulled her even closer, feeling her warmth against you, a profound sense of peace washing over you. “I love you too, Chaeyoung,” you replied, voice low and filled with sincerity. “More than I ever thought possible.”

With a quiet sigh, Isa tucked herself into you, her hand resting over your heart as the two of you let the night wrap around you, safe in each other’s arms, both knowing that this love was everything you had ever needed.

[thisfeelslike-iykyk]

love languages ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

hp boys x reader (ft. harry potter, ron weasley, fred weasley, draco malfoy, cedric diggory, remus lupin, sirius black, james potter, tom riddle) backtrack: inspiration: my post for pjo (here) that has the same concept

harry potter

giving: acts of service

harry always fights to protect those he loves, lest we forget the battle in the department of mysteries to “save” sirius, and even those he could not care less about (ahem draco). he’s self sacrificing, literally walking to his own death in the last book to save everyone else. and on a day to day basis, he goes out of his way to include or be nice to everyone, especially those who don’t really have friends, like luna or neville. he’s less about grand gestures and sappy love, instead preferring to care for his loved ones in practical ways.

receiving: words of affirmation

before harry went to hogwarts and met his friends, he literally received no love. petunia, vernon, and dudley would emotionally and physically abuse him. for that reason, I think harry would really appreciate someone praising him or just simply saying an “I appreciate you” or even “I love you”. also for that reason, I think physical touch might be a receiving love language for harry too.

ron weasley

giving: acts of service

oh gosh here we go, I already know there’s going to be so many “acts of service” guys on here. ron’s one of the most loyal people in the series, he’s always there for his friends and he is super selfless and protective of them. curse the movies for taking away his moment where he stands up on a broken leg to protect harry from a literal serial killer (well not really, but they didn’t know it at the time). he’s not the most, uh, articulate should we say, but he always helps his friends out.

receiving: words of affirmation

growing up in a family as big as his, ron got cast aside a lot. I mean, his literal deepest desire was to be noticed by others and not be overshadowed. and deep down he definitely knew that his family loved him, it was just kind of hard to see sometimes since his parents’ and siblings’ attention was always so divided. (side note, as an only child I could not imagine being in a family of ron’s size; one of my best friends has two sisters and she’s one of the nicest people I know, and I definitely think there’s a correlation) so if someone were to finally notice him and genuinely love him for who he is and tell him that, it would make him so happy. finally, he’s enough as he is. finally, he feels like someone loves him.

fred weasley

giving: quality time

quality time and acts of service are the big ones for fred. he’s willing to put himself into dangerous situations during the war (rip fred weasley, you deserved better) and the battle of seven potters. besides that, he thrives on bringing people together and making connections. he’s super friendly to everyone, a classic jokester, and he shows his love through the time he spends around people, especially george. they were always together. it hurts that they can't be anymore.

receiving: quality time

fred spent like all of his time with george when they were first starting weasleys’ wizard wheezes. granted, that was because starting a business takes a lot of time and effort, but it shows how fred is willing to spend time focusing on his passions. that led me to think he’d find it super important to spend time with his loved ones, and he would want his partner to spend a lot of time with him too. he uses humor as a defense mechanism and a coping mechanism, but deep down he knows that the war is actually dangerous and will have real consequences, such as bill getting mauled or george losing an ear. (or, you know, FRED LOSING HIS LIFE.) so he treasures every little moment with his loved ones.

draco malfoy

giving: acts of service

thinking about this was actually really hard. draco’s such a cold person, and he’s never shown love; all his selfless actions can be chalked up to fear and having no choice. so I had to look at when and why he married astoria. and this meant dipping into the cursed child, which I’ve never read fully but have read enough to be able to say I hate it and I don’t accept it. he truly did love astoria, even when his relationship with his parents suffered because of it. he became a better person because of astoria--miss  girl really said “I can fix him”. he even went so far as to disregard his father’s wishes when he wanted to let the malfoy line die with him. so I think when he really does find someone he loves, draco can be a pretty selfless person.

receiving: words of affirmation

gosh, just how much do people suck up to him? he was treated like a king in his early hogwarts years, and he loved it. I think the deeper reason is that he grew up without a ton of verbal affection from his family, so that’s something he craves from other places--a partner, or peers. the first time he hears an “I love you”, he’d be absolutely shocked and maybe turn cold or shut down. after some time and patience from both of you, he’d slowly begin to accept praise or loving words. if he’s feeling brave, he may even reciprocate them. only when it’s in the middle of the night and he’s pretty sure you’re asleep, though.

cedric diggory

giving: quality time

cedric spent a lot of time with cho when they were together; they would always go on dates and spend a lot of time together in between classes. it shows how much he values spending time with his loved ones. another giving love language of his is definitely quality time, because cedric is 100% a giver. he tipped harry off about the golden egg. he wanted harry to take the cup when they were in the maze. he’s just such a nice guy.

receiving: physical touch

this is for two reasons. one because I want it to be, and two because did you see his face when rita skeeter ruffled his hair in the movie? the guy was not having it, but I bet if the right person did it he’d be all blushy and smiley. also when harry went to the courtyard to tell him about the dragons, he was literally laying in his friend’s lap. and I can’t remember correctly, but wasn’t it said that he and cho would constantly hold hands? yeah. enough said.

remus lupin

giving: acts of service

remus does so much for others. he was one of the best defense against the dark arts professors for a reason. and even if his competition wasn’t so poor, I’m sure he would’ve been just as popular. he’s a natural mentor and caregiver, always there for others and sometimes neglecting his own needs because of it. he engages with his students on a personal level, especially harry, and he is always willing to put himself in danger for others, as seen in the battle of seven potters and the battle of hogwarts.

receiving: words of affirmation

this and quality time. for quality time, he spent a lot of time with his friends in school, and he spent a lot of time with harry when he was the datda professor. this time really helped grow his relationships and helped him feel close to his newfound family. as for words of affirmation, I think it’s obvious; as a kid, he never really had friends, and as a result he secretly yearns for encouragement and emotional support. kind words and whispered promises that everything will be okay. that is how remus lupin feels loved.

sirius black

giving: quality time

sirius spent so much time with his friends when he was young. he had a really rocky relationship with his family, so he gave all of his love to his friends. he and james were practically inseparable, they had such a nice connection. on top of that, after barely any human interaction for twelve whole years in azkaban, he treasures every single moment he has with his loved ones. it’s like every time he and his partner are together, he looks at them and can hardly believe this is real. but it is real. he’s out of azkaban, he’s free, and he has such an amazing partner to spend the rest of his life with. that’s decades! (I can’t with sirius’s death, I--no. he did not die.)

receiving: words of affirmation

sirius spent his childhood and adult life being rejected and ridiculed. that’s got to hurt, especially when he was literally in azkaban for something he didn’t do. he was so deprived of love and general human interaction for twelve years that I imagine he’d initially be kind of awkward or even scared when his partner first shows him love through praise or verbal affection. after a while though, he’d warm up and hopefully show that youthful, happy side of him again. also, he’d probably be big on quality time, since he got none of it at all during his azkaban years.

james potter

giving: words of affirmation

ah, finally someone who’s not acts of service or quality time! at this point I think maybe it’s just me. james is teasing and playful with his words; he’s very vocal about his affection and appreciation for his friends and loved ones. he did, after all, ask lily out pretty much every time he saw her. not at all like remus, who is a love letters and secret admirer kind of guy.

receiving: words of affirmation

james loved hearing praise and support. especially when he was in school. fuel his ego. that’s it.

tom riddle

giving: words of affirmation

I don’t think voldemort could physically feel love. I sometimes wonder if tom riddle and voldemort were different people, and honestly that’s a can of worms I don’t want to get into right now. I believe there’s some sort of theory that he can’t feel love because he was conceived while his dad was under a love potion? I have no idea. the important thing is that we all know how good tom riddle was at manipulating people. flattery gets you nowhere, they say, well clearly not if you’re tom marvolo riddle, because flattery got him everywhere. so he would use words to flatter people and show his admiration or appreciation of them, but was any of it actually real? I doubt it.

receiving: words of affirmation

honestly kind of the same deal with draco, but he's a lot worse. he wants to be treated like a king--scratch that, he wants to be treated like a god. he craves affirmation for his greatness and abilities. all his followers praise him endlessly, calling him “my lord” and sucking up to him. he also wanted his ideologies to be affirmed and supported by others. let’s face it, words of affirmation were just another way for him to prove to himself that he’s the greatest.

just a heads up guys, I'm so tired as I'm writing this so it was unedited

divider by @enchanthings

taglist: @loveinalocket, @raysmayhem-72, @stars-tonight, @toooster, @soft-likethesunset, @sheisntyou

[osakhee]

pretty boy, sub!anton x reader

! mommy kink, some pet names, slight dacryphilia

all you did was complimenting him, yet it made anton's mind spiral into something that couldn't be stopped. it was a much innocent comment, you admired how beautiful he is. deep down you knew the blush on anton's cheeks would be more than just him being shy over the praises.

you went shopping with anton in the afternoon like a normal day-off, you both love fashion very much and showing each other the worst piece of clothe you could find might be one of your favorite activity. it always ends up with a lot of laughers and great memories, and you really treasure these times with him.

you showed anton a wide tank top once inside one of the stores and hurried him to try it on. your boyfriend is always shy about showing himself but you know the shirt would look so good on him, displaying his muscular arms from lots of swimming practices and workouts. when he went out of the changing rooms, you couldn't stop the words coming from your mouth.

"you're such a pretty boy in that."

you had a bright smile but anton immediately turned red, the faint blush creeping from his cheeks and up his ears. he ended up buying the top and you made your way out of the store together. it sounded like the start of a good time for you, impatient to go through more clothes in the mall, but anton got significantly quiet. he held your arm in his hand and walked behind you, discomfort painted on his face.

it's only when you reached your next spot that you caught on anton's change of behavior. you were looking through sweaters when you feel your boyfriend's arms surround your waist and his face nested in your neck. it was all warm and lovely until you felt how he pressed his hips into your ass, grinding on you the pretty obvious bulge in his pants. he sighed on your skin, almost breathless.

"can we please go home..."

the travel back home was really silent, anton holding on your hand for dear life as if you would disappear if he ever let go. you walked in front, dragged him around the streets to finally reach your shared apartment. your boyfriend gave you a relieved smile when you closed the door behind you, his hand naturally finding its place on the painful tent into his jeans. you pushed his hand away earning a whine from him.

"anton go to the bedroom. get ready for me, and wear the new top. can you do that baby?"

anton's mind went rushing with thoughts at your words, he got rid of his shoes quickly and disappeared in the corridor. you took your time, put away your coat and shoes, organized a little anton's things that he dropped on the floor the second he got inside your home. soon enough it was time for you to take care of your pretty boy.

you make your way to the bedroom, the anticipation building inside your chest. you know anton will be waiting for you, he's always so obedient to your every word. you push the door that's half opened and your breath catch in your throat at the view in front of you. anton is already naked, the brand new tank top going up his chest to show his toned stomach, his legs parted for you to see his hard cock that stands proudly between his thighs. you watch the transparent fluid of his precum dripping silently on his lower stomach and his muscles tense at each breath.

anton looks up to you and only whine, his eyes blurry and needy, he barely can hold it anymore. you walk up to him and sit by his side on the bed, his eyes are fixated on you and never leave you, not even when your hand makes its way down his chest.

"so that's what happened... got all worked up by my praises, right pretty boy?"

"p-please... mommy please i can't-"

"can't hold it? i know you can baby, just a little more. be good for me, hm?"

"yes mommy..."

the way he looks at you with big puppy eyes, his pink lip stuck between his teeth make you want to give in immediately. anton is wrapped around your finger, always answering to any command, on his knees for you to overpower him in all the way you want. outside the bedroom, he's still shy yet he likes to be a little more protective over you. but once the door is closed, he wants nothing but to be laying in your arms while you take care of him.

your hand reaches his thighs and you watch his cock twitch, anton grips the sheets and hold back a moan with difficulty. he needs you so badly but he never wants to disobey or do something that's against your words. you told him to try a little harder? then he'll make sure not to cum until you tell him to.

you wrap your hand around his shaft, giving a slow pump to his hard cock and this time anton can't help but whimper, his head falling back. with your free hand, you gently grab his jaw and make him to look at you. anton's chest already heaves messily, the faint muscle line on his stomach tense and the forced eye contact has him falling apart. he tries to get closer, he wants more of your touch and your lips that he craves so much but you push him back in place. "not yet", it's all that falls from your lips and you see your boyfriend take a deep breath when your hand start working on his throbbing length again.

your thumb pushes a little on the slit, your hand wraps around his tip as it draws more precum from it. the wet sensation is perfect for you to keep jerking him off, your hand easily moving on his cock. you take your time to focus on every part of him, you feel each veins under your fingers and graze your nails on the pink and sensitive head of his dick.

anton is just a mess. his voice usually soft and quiet keeps getting louder, his moans turn into cries as the pleasure courses through his body and making his head spin. he loves it when you take things slowly, he feels so appreciated, loved and cared, but today he's very much sensitive and ever more than that, he's terribly needy. shaky fingers catch your wrist and you look back at anton, it always stings your heart when you see him cry, but the tears that roll silently down his cheeks make his eyes shine even more in the dim light, he's just so beautiful to you.

"baby what's wrong? tell me."

"i-i need you... need you s-so much..."

you just wanted to hear his voice that breaks at each word and drips with lust, you already know how much anton wants you. you can feel his cock throb in your palm. your attention focuses back on his dick and your hand works a little faster, going from the base to the head of his large length to make sure he's being touched everywhere.

slowly, you lift the new tank top anton bought to reveal his chest, and attach your lips to his skin. to spend some time on his sensitive stomach, covering it with kisses while your finger draw soothing circles on the skin of his waist. you drag your mouth further up until you can roll your tongue on his nipple, your face pressing into the clothe.

anton's hips buck up into your hand more and more while you suck on the sensitive bud. his voice got quieter again, he babbles incoherent words and whimpers your name. your lips abandon his reddening nipple and you reach for his chin to make him kiss you, a slow and gentle kiss he can't even reply to as much as he wants. his breath is so ragged you can feel his lips shaking against yours. you wipe his tears away with your free hand and look at him. you both get lost in each other's eyes for a minute that seems like eternity. to you, anton is as perfect as an angel that came into your life to save it, and his beautiful face like that is only for you to see.

"you held it so well baby, such a good boy for me."

"thank y-you mommy..."

"are you close now?"

"hmhm.... so so c-close mommy please..."

"it's okay pretty boy, you can cum now."

your words are like an electric shock through anton body. you pick up the pace of your hand and give his tip more attention. your boyfriend loses himself in the pleasure he gets from you, his parted legs shaking and his whole body so tensed next to you. his hands that grip the bed find themselves around your neck, he holds you close to him, his face nuzzled on your shoulder. his cries get louder, mixed with a lot of nonsense and some words you can recognize 'thank you' and 'mommy' over and over again.

you whisper reassuring words when you feel his cock twitch, anton lets out a loud and choked sob when he cums on your hand. his hips tremble as he shoots his heavy load over your fingers and his stomach. you make sure to milk every drop he has, letting go of his cock only when his thighs stop shaking, a sign he's coming back from the heaven you sent him to.

your clean hand caresses his hair until anton's breath get more steady and calm. you kiss his head and he sits back up straight next to you, the look in his eyes being much more satisfied than before. the smile drawn on his lips make your heart feel so warm and you reach closer to kiss him, anton's hand laying on your lower back.

"thank you mommy... i love you..."

"always my pretty boy. you know i love you so much more."

you tuck a strand of anton's hair behind his ear and he shifts on the bed next to you. he gets very cuddly and sleepy whenever he cums, you invite him to lay on your chest so he can doze off while you watch him sleep so peacefully. red paints anton's face a little when he looks at you.

"i've been good so... can i please be inside of you... wanna fuck you mommy i promise i'll make you feel good..."

your smile only grows wider at his words and you push him on his back before sitting down on his lap. his already spent cock is already half hard when you grind your hips, the grip of anton's hands tight on your waist.

"we can do that. make mommy feel good."

sub anton 😔🫳🏻 i love you @antoncore this is all for you ��‍❤️‍💋‍👨 thank you for the love on my works im so glad i started writing again please never hesitate to tell me what you think or send me requests i'll love to talk about it <3 wonbin is next to be posted :3

[flos-obsessivus]

Auagshraushag another braaaiiiin roootttt🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️

I'm spreading the propaganda of having your nails painted with the color of your significant other's eye

BUT for the twist that fits your OC universe(?) better, let me propose Gift/Mirror wearing accessories or clothes with the boys' hair/eye color! How much more romantic can it get having Gift wearing a ring with jewels the same color as Lilian's hair?? Or asking Ivory to tie a ribbon up his hair that's the same color as Mirror's eyes!! I bet Maleficus and Severin would love it too if Gift/Mirror wore a necklace with his eye color on it 🤭

What better way to show the world that you have a beloved other than to incorporate each other into your appearances 🤗 we live for matching couple fashion in this house!!!

Lilian is a bigggg advocator for matching outfits, even subtle ones like jewelry. As someone who sews/does embroidery, he most definitely would steal some of your clothes and sew in some designs that best represents him, aka a Lily. Though, if given the choice of choosing an accessory to be worn by you, it would definitely be a white gold ring with rose quartz which colour is similar to his eyes.

Maleficus would definitely love to adorn you in jewelry and treasures, as he would on himself. So it's to be expected that you will have so many sets of matching jewelry, his favourite has to be a circlet that has a cat's eye apatite with the colour similar to his hair dangling just above your eyebrow. It's a good way to crown you as a ruler of his kingdom and his lover.

Since in a way wearing matching outfits is a way to stake claim on you, Ivory would be a big fan of it. His favourite would be a black laced choker with red sapphires adorning it. But we cannot forget that he is a little weirdo, so he would also make a necklace that came from you... literally. You'll find him wearing a necklace with a vial of dark red liquid inside it.

Severin would act like it's something unnecessary stupid, but it will take him a day to find the perfect necklace (due to it being subtle) to give to you. It would definitely have deep purple crystals similar to his eyes, but the centerpiece would be a black tourmaline crystal, said to be a crystal that represented his mother's bloodline.

Also if you're very observant, you'll notice that he is less colder to you during the days that you wear the necklace and much harsher when you're not. You'll find him eyeing your neck at times, but don't worry, that's just him making sure you still have a part of him.

(Speaking of nail polish matching their partner's eyes, has anybody seen those tiktok vids of it matching their man's uhhhh tip? Traumatized I tell you😭😭.)

[eerna]

AAAAAA YOUR NEW CAITVI ART IS SOOOOO GOOD!!!!

also I have to ramble about how good this show is because aaahhhhh, just like The way things happen in cycles, where Cait is now the one motivated by revenge instead of Vi, which would already be a kicker by itself, but she also has enormous societal pressures and responsibilities pushing her that way because it's "the right thing." Virtually everyone in her life is telling her to pursue this vengeance in order to fulfill the duties of her professional station and protect her family's historical place amongst the city's elite, and then you also have Ambessa on the sidelines actively inciting additional violence from both sides while softly whispering "go on, let's do some authoritarianism, it's the best path forward." It mirrors the way Jayce burst onto the scene in S1, immediately flabbergasted by the clear corruption of the council and merchants, only to get turned around into doing exactly what Silco and Marcus wanted in order to exacerbate the situation between Piltover & the Undercity. And then like, Cait hitting Vi is the inverse of the oil and water scene in season 1; both of them trying to quickly and painfully sever that connection so that the other won't weaken them on their quest for revenge, the difference being that Vi didn't want to see Caitlyn get hurt.

I would say my only complaint with the first act was not enough Vi, but I don't really agree with any of the complaints saying she's "poorly written" just because she's doing things that people don't like? Across the first 3 episodes, it feels like she's just mentally checked out, running on a sort of autopilot and trying to keep her head down and only focus on her newfound duty to protect Caitlyn during the pursuit of Jinx, since everyone else she would have once protected (the only thing she thinks she's good for) is either dead, gone, or different.

aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh I need the new episodes but refuse to watch any of the teasers so instead it's all just screaming in here with occasional interludes of coherent thought like these

THANKYOUUU~~

I FEEL YA I DON'T WANNA WATCH ANY TEASERS OR TRAILERS EITHER!!! You are so correct. This entire first arc was the payoff for s1, and seeing how the events of e9 changed everyone, and it's best shown through cycles and parallels. I love how Piltover's system keeps devouring everyone who tries to do good. Priding yourself on progress and wealth means you will treasure those two things over everything else, and that will inevitably turn you into a corrupt person!! And the show isn't afraid of corrupting its characters to show it!!! Vi isn't badly written, she just isn't the revolutionary rebel dreaming of freedom she was in s1... but the funniest thing is, she hasn't been that person since s1e3. She decided to follow Vander's policy of protecting those she loves within the system, instead of changing the system and risking losing them. That's why she forgot that the Enforcers were and are her enemies - she prioritized the personal feelings she has for Cait, instead of what's smart and for the greater good. That's how she ended up a class traitor AND rejected by Piltover. Oh it is all so so juicy, can't WAIT for arc 2!!!!!!!

[kandadze]

Ep 28 loose thoughts

I'm glad for the lighthearted opening, because I know it'll just go downhill from here. Also, PSJ lumped with the men while ZYZ gets to annoy them from the distance is peak comedy. Again, I'm pretty sure we'll need all the laughs we can get.

Also, this is purely from an aesthetic point of view, and seeing ZYC out of his usual deep blues, grays and indigos was jarring, to say the least. The sandy beige does not compliment his porcelain complexion at all... unless they were going for this washed-out, weary look specifically, in which case, A+ (and boy, does he have reasons to be weary lol). Bonus: Ying Lei and PSJ knowing exactly why he's calling ZYC a bastard 😂

"Next time, please finish your words in one go." Where's the fun in that though, ZYZ? You walked right into that one all by yourself 🤣

Of course Li Lun's way of "asking" for the scale was to threaten its owner with death. I'm afraid he hasn't learned anything... pity, really. I would love for him to have *some* sort of character growth.

Wow, ain't she miss popular all of a sudden! Is the Chongwu Camp guy gonna help LL to save Bai Jiu's body, or is he gonna go with his boss's orders after all? And of course the boss has *something* on the princess - I refuse to believe that his repulsive ass is Meng Xuan.

What's with that look, LL? Did you forget that the 3-face-mask - what's his name again? Wen something? - is after ZYZ's inner core? Did you think he was gonna stop trying to get it when you backed out of your deal? (Unless he's more like, welp, there goes my chance to get rid of the  poison...)

The whole "why do we need the scale" sequence is sending me. Ying Lei: she's so good at making up stories! ZYC: she probably got that from one of her novels. YL: I was not allowed to read erotica!!! 🤣 Meanwhile, in the distance, WX: let me spin this even harder, for maximum effect. ZYZ: 😲😱🤯😵‍💫🫡 YL: 🤢

But of course, the show will not let us forget that the success rate of interspecies romance in this universe is exactly zilch, nada, and zippo... and here I am, still holding onto hope for some kind of satisfactory ending. Oof, the way WX went "you owe me a life" so matter-of-factly... give me more female characters with a backbone of steel!

Omg can I just barf. Wen Zongyu *is* Meng Xuan? Is it just me who finds the taste of the Wilderness women we've seen so far shacking up with humans - Bai Jiu's mom and now the princess -  highly questionable? Like, why. My aroace ass cannot conceive how the princess could fall for *that* guy, of all people. I've sat through all the tragic romances so far not quite understanding maybe, but believing in all of them, but this, no.

(Also, it is now confirmed, that little bridge is like a tourist attraction for lovers, only every couple who sat on it is doomed. You should've played with your sparklers at the dock, ZYZ, WX!)

Oh wait hold up? Meng Xuan is someone WZY knew? He pretended to be him? Oh for fuck's sake! But the woman the princess poisoned *was* WZY's wife, right? And WX's dad and WZY knew each other??? This is so confusing ffs

"An innocent person's only crime is to own something valuable." "People with a treasure are always surrounded by bad wolves and cunning foxes. In most cases, in order to protect the treasure, they become a bloodthirsty beast, too." "It's a choice. She could choose not to." Love this whole convo on innocence and how it can get twisted, and ZYC restating his values. (I also get distracted by his eyelashes, like, constantly. 😅)

Oh, is WX going for the jugular. (And it appears only ZYC knew about the princess killing WX's dad. When did he find out, I wonder.) Also, hello? The *triple* murderer gets to make a request? For ZYZ's inner core, nonetheless??? I mean, I know why she's asking for that specifically - Chongwu Camp lackey did get to her first, after all - but that's not how "paying back" works, lady.

ZYZ, you just promised ZYC that you won't seek death, and then not only do you risk your life for him almost immediately after, now you're back on your self-sacrificial bs??? I swear, ZYC's patience for this demon. And his love, too. "Keep your inner core. I won't exchange it for anything, not even the Cloud Light Sword." Ahhh my heart.

Did he really pull a demonic equivalent of "my body, my choice"??? ::dies:: and then he goes, you don't want to make that choice, I'll make it for you. I immediately flashed back to Ying Long making the decision for Bingyi, oh no 😭

Awwww goddamnit everyone (not you WX, you're on the right side here), stop making ZYC sad! He cares for all of you, stop forcing him to make impossible choices! (You can tell I'm really invested when I start talking directly to the characters lol) In a way I understand why Ying Lei and PSJ would choose Xiao Jiu over ZYZ. YL's grandpa's death is no doubt still fresh on his mind, and even though in a way he seems to be going against his grandpa's final act of love, it's also a sort of "life for life" reasoning. For PSJ, even if her views of demons shifted since we first met her, Xiao Jiu is first and foremost a kid who reminds her of her brother. So I understand where they might be coming from, and I still don't like that ZYC has to deal with his found family fracturing before his very eyes.

Goddamnit, Ying Lei's projecting his own wish for being special and chosen. Makes sense, our underappreciated comic relief might not be expressing it much but we've been shown his constant vying for attention and validation (especially from ZYC and XJ) often enough. Headpats my dear boy, you *are* special. You are also, however, using emotional blackmail to sway ZYC, and I don't like that.

Ah, PSJ, back to annoying tf out of me. "Not 'we.' Just you and Zhuo Yichen" is it now? Damn it, this show just keeps finding ways to make my heart hurt. Don't break up the family!!! Not like this! You tell them, ZYC! (ZYZ's face when ZYC in essence said, over my dead body!)

............

Remember folks this is me yelling into my notepad as I'm watching bit by bit. At this point I had to stop because I reached my limit and at the same time had a terrible thought that this is another illusion. Because no way in hell did I just watch them-  Draw. Weapons. On. ZYC???!!!

This can't be real. ZYZ, stop this nonsense!

....... I hate it here.

Okay, before I go any further, I *know* from the MV and the trailer that whatever the fuck just happened can't be real. But they better have a *very* good explanation because my poor heart pretty much stopped for a moment.

So they got the scale. Yippie.

What was the point of all of this if she dgaf for the letter? Please get them both off of my screen, he's a fucking monster and she has no taste, and I dgaf for their tragic story (barf). I think this is the first time I got seriously annoyed while watching this drama, which, considering we're on ep 28, is a feat in itself.

How tf did he recognize PSJ's arrow? Can he tell it's hers by its trajectory? I guess he's just naturally brilliant at everything killing related?

OMG ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, DRAMA. We were told earlier that the fish can communicate with Longyu! And they gave us a shot of fish in that pond they were all standing at! They even showed us WX holding up something before the "break-up" started - I just didn't realize it was her "notebook"... So everyone was acting??? But there was no way ZYC could've read her notes, so was he the only one who wasn't??? 😭 You mofos, how dare you put him through stress like that!!!

"Go away." "Okay." Someone's sleeping on a couch tonight... From the music in the background I know we're supposed to find this reveal funny, the *four* of them definitely do (while laughing at him), and I just keep thinking of what it must've felt like to him. Isn't his biggest fear losing his loved ones? Whether by death or by a difference in thought, which changes love into hate? (Stil not over that little speech on love vs hate XJ's mom gave several eps back!) Even if it was a ruse, for him it was real. In short, ZYC my man, I applaud you for your restraint; I would've blasted the lot with some ice by now.

Oof another reveal. Will the asshole care? I doubt it. ZYZ's hand on WX's shoulder because of course she's gonna blame herself. Aaaand I was right, the asshole doesn't care... can someone just shoot him for me, please.

Wow, ZYZ, you little attention whore. And again they're giving us the "you can't choose your origin, but you can choose your own life," just as they're marching us towards the inevitable end. Nooo, not the leaves speech! Seriously, the amount of beautiful, soul-crushing lines in this drama! Aaaand he just said the title. The dream will end, we will wake up, we'll go back to reality. But we'll remember the dream forever... I feel like WX is expressing our hopes for a different ending, and ZYZ is confirming our fears that it can't be changed. Goddamnit.

And then she goes, let's live together, even though there's definitely something wrong going on with her??? Thanks for the forehead touch, drama, I'm a sucker for those.

Aw LL, you sad little demon possessing a dying child's body. I find it fascinating how different his cave looks now, almost ethereal with all the flowers and floating lights, while he's decaying (not to mention all the raw meat he's been consuming).

ZYC changed clothes, thank goodness 😅 I mean, y'all *could* just apologize? Why make it seem that he's the unreasonable one for being genuinely upset over something he didn't know was an act? The prolonged hovering of their hands, I can't 🤣 Do you want to get the scale stolen? Because that's how you get things stolen in this world, by not using them immediately. Come to think of it, why don't they know how to use it? You'd think Ying Long told them, right? (What you wanna bet that somehow WZY knows?) What the heck did I just say? They're already being watched...

Good on you for not being fooled (I mean, ZYC *never* smiles like that, why does she keep making the same mistake), but oh goodness did he lose the thing he was supposed to guard with his life *fast*. I hate that we see them so reactive so often, and just *not* smart. They *just* said LL was going to try to get the scale - but they still left Ying Lei by himself? Please, you're supposed to be good, not *dumb*!

Huh, I guess I should've known there'll be another twist(s). I'm exhausted so all I have left is, I appreciate the little moment of softness between LL and his human livers dealer, and did ZYZ really teach LL *all* his tricks? We shall see. (And as I promised myself, I'm not checking out the preview. My sanity's frayed as it is.)

[wizardingsouls]

the ease of trading and sharing touch feels like a treasure. the results of the years james had spent needling for more and the story remus hadn't told him yet about what life had really been like after the attack. he knows moony will share, eventually, like he always does. for tonight though, this counted as answer enough about everything. all of them showed their weariness in different ways, after all. it showed in james most often in the lapses of silence when he used to be almost as difficult to shut up as sirius, and merlin help anyone who got both of them yapping at the same time.

" thanks for the permission, " he echoes playfully, gaze following their hands and eyes half-closing when they stilled again. how was he? exhausted, firstly. emotionally wrung out, still aching a little from being on the floor so long earlier. fucking thrilled knowing with complete confirmation that both remus and sirius still love him as much as he loves them. a dozen more things, all in different directions. " ...i'll concede to being tired. " which would be silly to not admit at this point anyway. but he considers even more carefully before deciding that wasn't enough of an answer.

james shrugs a shoulder, just enough for the movement to be noticeable without disturbing their comfort. " i'm glad to know for certain where we stand, but with everything going on, mostly tired is winning. and it was probably a good thing you had to pause before i did. " and that was edging into the too honest territory, james almost abrupt in being done talking about it. for as much as he enjoyed attention in general, he didn't much like focusing solely on himself, especially when asked to do so in a reflective state. " you know, i never thought i'd end up such a homebody. aside from getting sirius and harry, i just realized i haven't really gone anywhere lately. "

he hadn't gone much of anywhere since waking at st. mungo's, truthfully. once he could get out of there and back home, the focus was getting to a point where they could get padfoot. there had been the one meeting with the minister himself, technically, but the man had come to him when he was still working on not being bedridden. remus did the shopping on the occasions they needed anything, until harry had moved in too and the pair sometimes went together. but james had been so busy focusing on people that it hadn't even occurred to him to worry about places too.

it says a lot about where james is, the way he enjoys and lingers. he's worn out from the night's earlier events and the emotional roiling that came with them, but still ever eager for any thread of love. a less exhausted night he probably have pressed to very literally pick up where they had left off, but this...this is what he needed right now. it always had been a wonder to him that remus could do that without them ever speaking on the matter; he somehow just knew. always.

even when a pause to breathe is required, he's content exactly where he is. tiny thrills race under his skin when remus's hands move, james undeniably entranced by the fountain of affection. he couldn't imagine a lifetime of being away from this when he'd barely handled it before-- and then he hears it. or rather he registers it after there's suddenly space between them again and remus has pulled away. the near-break in the other's voice that reminded him one of them had had a lifetime being away from this.

he's initially too stunned to actually say anything, caught in the whirl of the bathroom's cool air prickling against his throat where warm hands had been a few seconds ago. then he's being told not to say anything, and for once james listens. gives moony the moment to collect himself that was necessary and surprisingly patient until he's invited close again. " and there i was thinking we didn't need a swear jar anymore, " he teases as he does so, this time nestling against remus's side so neither of them have to twist uncomfortably to look at each other or hold hands. still, he can't help a concerned trailing of fingertips across the other's cheek down his jaw, a silent check in to avoid the mess of trying to find the correct words to ask any questions.

a concern he realizes might also just as easily tip things again, but he doesn't take it back. just seeks out the hand unoccupied with holding him close to lace their fingers again. " guess it has been that kind of night though, huh? " the question is rhetorical, of course. a tired approval of the cursing so aptly describing the interruption and its wake. maybe a little bit admitting defeat, which he hated to do, but the night had been long and not easy on any of them.

[everythingiguess]

I know some people don't like the pacing or the fact that Wandee and Yoryak take so long to confess and voice their feelings, but I actually love it so much.

I understand that this is a show and it follows a storyline, but I kind of see in the characters' confusion a reflection of how everything works in reality; we don't follow a storyline or an order where we meet, fall in love, get confused, understand our feelings and confess to each other.

These feelings are confusing and messy and some people can start where other people might end and vice versa, but I love the fact that Yak and Dee, despite everything, choose to be together anyway and are willing to wait for each other.

And that's because they love each other, regardless of whether they've voiced it or not.

[appleonjust-ice]

assorted dunmeshis‼️‼️💥

(closeups under cut)

[unproduciblesmackdown]

orvphil: so real

for example used analysis on the following instances

orville's physical reluctance & difficulty kneeling to propose to jane vs. readily swinging right into such a kneel with phil during 'til we meet again

'til we meet again

(see above) noting the "both immediately becoming So happy to be doing this" and "staring at each other for an unbroken ten seconds after finishing the song which was evidently beyond simply a [hold for applause] thing"

having indeed an adorable little meet-cute, which may not be an integral part of every eventual writer/lyricist & composer partnership

when phil drops in at wingate manor and he an orville have a private little wave to each other like =)

sitting next to each other sharing a hay bale and orville gets drinks for them both and phil walks orville home

lucky day

the choreography where orville's at the piano and phil swings it out while rotating it and orville's "walking" while sitting to one side to help (my analysis: going ohhhhh ;w;)

both simultaneously answering "his" when asked whose song it is like the earnest effortless mutual admiration and appreciation huh fellas

margaret talking about protecting your heart from these theatricals; orville Is one of these theatricals, and he loves it; phil watching him / reacting in this moment including his little "hell yeah" move like he had for orville going off in lucky day

their general enthusiasm together / for each other / enjoyment of being around each other and increased ease of operating when around each other

phil wishing orville could hear his music and talking about how orville ruined his own night to save theirs, then remarking "...what a guy!" mmhm

🌈🌈🌈

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Guizhong (don't mind me re-dropping this with the fixed ones, shh)

[universestreasures]

Fly Away To Their Dreams (A Drabble For @shachou)

He still....He still couldn't believe it. The day had finally arrived and yet the reality of the current situation still seemed to feel like a dream. But time and time again reality slapped him in the face that yes, this was happening. That he, 19-year-old Kaiba Mokuba, was the newly appointed CEO of Kaiba Land Parks & Resorts, the one to who the Kaiba brother's shared dreams had been entrusted. Never did he think this would happen, and yet here he was, standing on the airstrip saying goodbye to his loved ones before flying off to his new place of residence in America.

Everyone he had a connection to was present to see him off, from Yugi and his gang, to his Buddyfighter friends (Buddy Monsters included), Utahara Kisara and her sister Shiori, a plethora of Kaiba Corp employees, and of course, Isano and his brother. The only person close to him who wasn't in the sea of people were Akatsuki and his buddy Byakuya, but that was for obvious reasons. They were to be accompanying Mokuba as his bodyguards and assistants, like his own Isano in a sense. That was the first thing the younger Kaiba did after being appointed, for he knew no one else more fitting for such a role than the two ninjas. Plus, being so far from home without anyone he was close to would have been too hard on him.

Even now, as he said his goodbyes, all he can think focus on is the towering figure clad in white in the back of the crowd, the one he for the first time in his life was going to be willingly separated from for long periods of time. Sure, he had practiced living on his own some of the time with that apartment of his he got near HQ soon after his graduation, but this was different. He was going to be living thousands of miles away from his brother in a whole different country. It was his first proper step of going out on his own in the world, and making that step was...truly terrifying, if he's being honest.

Would he be able to handle this immense pressure on his own? What if he should fail? What if he needed his brother? What if his brother needed him? What if-

"We're all ready to leave when you are, Mokuba-sama." One of the private plane's staff brings him out of his thoughts and back into the present, purple hues glancing over at the crowd of people staring at him. He can feel his palms sweat, not sure quite what to say. Luckily for him, everyone's attention is directed away from him as two figures moves through the crowd, one that causes Akatsuki and Byakuya to step forward to meet them.

"Anija..." Akatsuki speaks after meeting his brother Zanya and his buddy Tsukikage, both him and Byakuya attemping to bow their heads in respect to their elder brothers before both of them put their hands to forward to stop the action.

"Akatsuki. You are well aware of how important this task is. It is a great honor to be able to accompany Mokuba-san as his protector and confidante, an honor I know you will shoulder with pride." Zanya's hand is put on his brother's shoulder with those last words, giving Akatsuki a soft smile.

"I'll...I'll do my best." He nods as he then reaches for his sword held close at his side, taking it out and bowing his head as he makes a promise to both himself, his brother, his friend, and everyone present. "I swear by my blade to protect my best friend, Kaiba Mokuba, with my life. No harm shall come to him, and I promise to do all I can to aid him in his new role."

That's when Byakuya moves between the two brothers, his gaze focusing both on his buddy as well as the younger Kaiba before bowing himself before them both. "And I swear on my pride as a nanomachine ninja to protect and support both Mokuba-dono and Akatsuki-dono throughout their time in the new land, just as my brother has done with Zanya-dono for so many years."

"Nin." The single word escapes the usually untalkative Tsukikage's lips, and despite the shortness of the remark, they spoke volumes to his brother. The sentiment causes the more emotional Byakuya to start to tear up, moving to give his brother a hug. Akatuskki, like a mirror image, follows suit as his own eyes get all watery, and he wraps his arms around his brother's torso.

"Now, go make me proud...little brother."

The warmness of the display causes everyone in the crowd to get all sentiment, some even clapping their hands at the pure joy at the display. And while such a feeling reached Mokuba, all he could focus on after witnessing that moment between brothers was his own, still standing tall in the back, watching everything unfold with that usual aloof exterior of his.

"Alright. Let's...Let's get this show on the road, then." Mokuba speaks with his head facing the ground after having picked up Mochi's cat carrier, turning his back to everyone, his brother included.

"You're not going to say goodbye to Seto-dono...?" Akatsuki asked, breaking his hug with his brother to instead look at his friend and now boss.

"We...We already said our goodbyes at the mansion earlier. Besides, we...we have a schedule to keep. It be a bad impression if I couldn't keep to it on my first day."

And with that Mokuba and both ninjas began their way towards the private plane, the crowd waving and cheering them good wishes. As he makes those steps up to the ladder and into the vessel, Mokuba takes one glance back, noticing his brother start to turn around to presumably leave the premises to return to work. He can feel his emotions, the ones he's been doing his best to repress to try and remain professional in front of everyone, bubbling close to the surface.

He promised himself he wouldn't embarrass himself. He wasn't a little kid anymore. He was the CEO of the division of the company that was the result of years of hard work and dreams from them both. He had a duty to represent himself well. And yet...his new position, his new lavender suit, his new goal, could not change one thing about him. That deep down, he was still Kaiba Mokuba, the little brother of Kaiba Seto, who loved him with all of his heart.

"Wait....!!!" He shouts as the plane's door began to close on him, the action immediately being stopped and slowly reopened. As soon as the stairs touched the ground, the young man races off of the plane and onto the airport strip, running as fast as he could towards the crowd of people seeing him off to do what he had been denying himself of doing.

"Nii-sama!!!"

The cry from Mokuba echoes through the area, causing everyone's attention to be gravitated towards it. As the young CEO approached the sea of people, the crowd parted to allow him passage, giving him a clear gateway towards the person whose voice he seemingly stopped from leaving by his cries.

And soon, within a matter of moments, he finds himself wrapping his arms around his brother's torso, everyone else turning their heads to watch. The security of being close to him causes those locked floodgates of his heart to burst open, tears forming in his eyes like they had so many times before. As they say, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

"I...I'm going to miss you. I'm going to miss you so much! I'm...I'm so honored you trusted me with the responsibility our dream, and I promise to do my best to keep it alive and well...for all those kids like us. I'll make you proud, I swear it on my name as a Kaiba!" His grip on his brother tightens, but in response to the action and his words, he feels one arm wrap around his back as the other gently is placed on his head. Purple hues meet ones of cobalt then, with the smallest of smiles gracing the CEO's face.

"You already have. You've exceeded all my expectations of you. No one is more fit for this task than you. Trust in your ablility, Mokuba."

"Nii-sama..." He smiles softly as tears run down his cheeks, Mokuba slowly releasing himself to dry them. That's when the young man noticed Yugi approach the pair of brothers, offering a smile of his own to the two.

"We all believe in you, Mokuba-kun. And don't worry about your brother. Isano and I will make sure he doesn't get into any trouble at the office." Yugi gives a playful wink, one that no doubt causes an eye-roll from Seto and a giggle from Mokuba.

"Make sure he eats three meals a day, especially during the time of the Board of Directors meetings! He has a bad habit of skipping them then! And make sure he takes breaks! Bribe him with a duel if you have to!"

"Don't worry. I got it covered." He smiles as he brings out his deck from his pocket, something he's become accustomed to carrying on him in case the opportunity for a game arises.

With those words exchanged, he gives his brother one final wave before he turns to run back to the plane. Once inside he takes his seat, straps his seatbelt in, and after one final safety check, the plane moves at last to the runway before soaring through the sky. Mokuba's eyes glance through the window of everyone sending him good luck, giving him the confidence to go out and do his best.

"He'll be alright, Kaiba-kun." Yugi speaks up, standing beside his rival as they watch the plane go off into the distance. "He's not alone over there, just like you aren't alone over here."

"Hmph." Is all the CEO remarks before walking off, seemingly having had enough sentimentality for one day. But Yugi knew him better. He knew that Kaiba agreed with his words, for no one was more confident in his brother and his abilities than him. After all, he was the one who watched Mokuba grow up all these years into a capable young man who was more than worthy of the last name Kaiba, as well as his brother's respect...as well as his pride.

[jynxlovesluck]

Kim Dokja is autistic, in this essay I will-

[ladyhavilliard]

Am I upset how much they changed Wesper in s&b? Yes. Is it bringing my Wesper obsession back anyway? Of fucking course.

[todayisafridaynight]

OUGHGHGHGHGGH thank you so much for the compliments I'm gonna 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭that means a lot coming from you!

I rarely post art though haha, I think all I've got on Tumblr is my one (horrid) MineDai render, and that Mine study I'm sure you've seen on Twitter. So I can probably speedrun all my works right now and save you some scrolling: x x x

I live for the contrast between Ichi's design and the others' honestly! Love that Jo's and Arakawa's remained all moody and sober while Ichi and Aoki wound up wearing opposing primary colors. Mitsu's a fun case because he's always been a mix; dark and colorful in the 2000s, and his suit in 2019 is about the color you'd get from mixing Ichi and Aoki's suits and desaturating it.

But sort of on the topic of Nice and Beautiful and Arakawa doing light makeup for him........

thank you for dropping the links (and preemptive apology for me spamming your notifs in a minute OOPSIE)

the contrast between ichi and aoki's designs is SO good and i love it so much- like Y7 really couldn't stress enough that aoki and ichi were the exact opposite to each other and i live for it 👏👏

PLEASE HE LOOKS SO NICE WITH THAT SHADE THOUGH..

[slvttyplum]

satoru loves how wet you get, but he especially loves your wet panties and how the core of them gets so soaked that your sweet fluid drips through them.

four whole drawers dedicated to your panties and he had no shame about them, making sure to pick them up off the floor after he fucked you so that he could stuff them in the "discrete" drawer by his bed.

it was just so fascinating to see what he could do to you without laying a single finger on him to make your pussy drip through fabric, saliva building in his mouth from how aroused he was.

 he fucking loved it, loved every single part about teasing you and touching you through your clothes just to get to those thin underwear that protected the treasure he yearned for.

some people would call satoru a perv for collecting his partner's panties that were clearly ruined with fluids, but satoru called it love and dedication. who else would do this for you? appreciate everything your sexy body could do. 

even doing some unspeakable things with them whenever he had some alone time, he couldn't help it; it was practically calling to him with the drawer right next to his bed, especially on lonely nights where you weren't there. 

of course you knew about it—him snatching up your panties off the floor before you could wake up so he could stuff them in his jerk-off drawer. 

you liked it; no, you loved it. it was flattering, to say the least.

he took time to get you nice and wet, soaking you out of your seat and fucking you to sleep every single time. he deserved a little sweet treat for it; the least you could give him was your underwear, plus he always got you more. 

his favorite thing to do was get very light colors and thin fabric so that he could see just how much damage you did to them, soaking them through and easy to feel you up on, like a runny nose that just wouldn't stop and he wouldn't have it any other way. 

playing dumb, asking where your panties were, and he.'' show up a few weeks later with a laundry basket of them neatly folded.

that's some scary shit, but also hot, so it canceled out... right?