#the old eccentric's place
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ambusterpm · 7 months ago
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Gandalf as requested by @brethilach (thank youu)
You know not how difficult a task you've set me,,, I've always struggled so much with finding a way I like to draw Gandalf. I am mostly content with this. I was thinking he'd keep all sorts of bits and bobbles that he can wear on his person as he travels to remember the friends he's made. Saruman looks down on him for it, sees it as trashy and frivolous.
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entropyvoid · 2 months ago
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There is a particular subgenre of post I keep seeing on this webbed site wherein people denigrate individualistic cultures but talk about collectivistic ones like they’re the absolute best thing to happen the world and have no flaws of any kind and I really have to wonder how many people making or reblogging those have actually had the opportunity to live in both
#ch.txt#like don’t get me wrong american individualism is a special kind of fend-for-yourself hellscape#and I get that that’s probably what a lotta these idiots are trying to push back against#as the english-speaking internet is like. infested with us#but like. realistically both cultural models have both profound positives and negatives#and it is easy to miss the social issues of a culture you are not a part of. smthng about the grass being greener on the other side or w/e#like i do not know how to adequately describe to you what I’ve seen social pressures alone do to people in south korea when I lived there#but I do not think the need to fit in permeating every facet of not only a person’s being but also opportunities and future is a good thing#and when I see those posts I can’t help but think of the droves of people who got plastic surgery to fit within a narrow beauty standard#under threat of never being employed#or how people throw themselves off bridges for doing poorly on college entrance exams#or all the social problems that arise from confucianism#or even just how I rarely saw people venturing outside one of two clothing colors: black or white#or how autistic people there are percieved as subhuman monsters for inability to conform#hell I actually felt the judgment and pressure of that last one personally#and that’s saying a lot bc a lotta people will give an obvious foreigner more room to be eccentric#at least far more room for that than they would have given to another (at least perceived) korean#but there is a limit to the amount of both awkwardness and individuality the average person there will tolerate#like these things are all extensions of collectivism in the same complicated way that ppl kicking their 18 year olds onto the streets#is ultimately just one of many terrible ways in which individualism is expressed#and all these things are not universal to collectivistic cultures. but the conformity is born from and influenced by collectivism#it’s too fucking complicated and multifaceted to dub one or the other as fully good or bad!#and frankly there is far too much of both for you to even call one better than the other!#i don’t have the mental bandwidth to break down the hows and whys of all these social issues but I hope I have at least conveyed something#disclaimer: I do love south korea and I miss a lot of things about it#but every place on earth has its issues and living there for years will inevitably teach you about at least some of them
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outlying-hyppocrate · 1 year ago
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positively despising how my consistent personality is leaving me and how i resort to such strange lies
#random thoughts#i write this on the cold tile floor of a place that has yet to hear my wailing screams. this is a lie. i am in bed#if my writing were anywhere near kafkaesque i don't think i'd be doing very well. but how i do admire his work#i read quite a bit. my bookshelves one day shall be piled with the works of authors such as anne rice. oscar wilde (and franz kafka himself#though this is the 21st century. what of modern fiction ? what of modern nonfiction ? i've made myself into someone#whose vocabulary is strangely extensive. we could argue that i've been this person all along#a sort of “gifted child” perhaps. except. i don't fucking use words like perhaps#as. not as. because this is a mockery of the self#how to put it less concisely ? i sound so old. “so mature for [my] age.”#i'm a very strange sort of person and when i stand alone in the water my screaming takes the form of beautiful song. but#how i long to stop the sound and choke it out into something strangled with my very own fingers. my essence is poetry#and therefore all that i am is poetry. i am so beautiful#my face and my body and everything we are made of#to spill the essence of poetry in the form of something more human. blood or spit or tears or vomit#i am so very interested in human function. what am i saying i'm being strange on purpose? but i like being strange#and this is how you see me now. my eccentric persona(lity) does not make me special at all. i'm not doing very well#i never am to tell the truth. it is getting so hard to prove my humanity and i'm starting to feel rather artificial#i have nothing to show proof of humanity such as blood or spit or tears or vomit#but then again i am simply being dramatic. i'm just being dramatic. that's it#i am just a boy and just a puppet and just how i present to others#i am pleasant. i am charming. i am robotic. i am awkward. i am cultured. i am weird. i am almost a person#my fingers are so thin. i've always been inhuman. they have their blood and spit and tears and vomit#and i have nothing but i think i like those words quite a bit. and i am watching the numbers raise higher. notifications. pretty things#i'm sorry i'm acting like this. acting. acting. actingactingactingidon't know what's brought it on#i speak so strangely. maybe i should try something else. i shall go to sleep and pretend that nothing happened. which it did. let me#bstvlpeooiamotridst . you have the words. i've been purposely alternating every three tags to write blood and spit and tears and vomit#i like patterns very much what else can i say. patterns are. pretty. though pretty isn't a word that fits into my extensive vocabulary#it should be buried at the bottom rather. what's a nicer way. i'm not actually sure#if you've made it this far please kindly say hello. otherwise that's alright#we've arrived to form our pattern again and i don't actually feel very much. bloodspit tearsvomit
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xenosagaepisodeone · 3 months ago
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you happen upon an ex-tumblr power poster who now lives on twitter. he is 30 (or nearing so), stripped of the eccentricities which illuminated his net presence when he was 19 but none of the grievances. he speaks of his hobbies, which remain unchanged from the previous decade, but with only dim enthusiasm- "was this series always this janky, or am I just noticing it now?" and so on. his vent tweets about work, relationships, friends and money punctuate his timeline in place of what would have been a joke or keen observation a decade ago. the world is confusing and frustrating to him now. things didn't work out like he thought they would. his way of living is calcifying and he worries he's losing the ability to see beyond himself. he comes close to reminiscing sometimes, about his youth, about old internet, about tumblr, before recoiling with embarrassment and disgust. and yet, with similar machinations to that of jungian enantiodromia, by attempting to live the inverse of his past, he becomes testament to it. a 30 year old man who navigates life as a 19 year old boy. he feels old, and seeing him makes you almost feel old too. but you know better. you can live forever. you can live forever if you keep posting on tumblr.
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specshroom · 9 months ago
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°~ A MAGE IN THE JUNGLE ~°
Includes: Use of she/her, Slimy naga dick, Size difference, strangers to...fucking? Idk.
In which: Our Mage searches the jungle for a rare species to add to her "research".
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She curses as her boot clad feet catch on another root, almost sending her tumbling into the dewy jungle ground. Deciding to stop for a short break, she swats at the buzzing mosquitoes, taking her hat off to fan herself futilely while eyeing the map she bought.
The vender who sold it to her was an eccentric type, which is always a good sign in her eyes. If you're going to scam people at least commit to the whole "mysterious merchant" bit. The old hag managed to make her cough up 7 copper coin for this "traveler's essential". 
Her goodwill has not been paid back as apparently the map was more unreliable than she expected. The mage curses herself as she glowers at the useless map, trying to decipher where the hell she is.  
After a few more minutes of squinting and pointing to random places on the map, she just scrunches the flimsy paper in her hands and sets it on fire, burning it up before the embers could even reach the floor. She wasn't looking for anything any cheap map could show her anyway. 
She came here to follow an urban legend about a deadly beast that stalks the jungle. The creature has many different variations depending on who's telling the story but what is consistent is the shining gold scales adorning the creature. Stories vary widely from village to village, some say it's an old wrathful god sent down to punish those greedy enough to seek it out and some say it's a beautiful maiden with a golden tail here to bring good fortune to those deserving of it. 
Which ever story is the truth, she just couldn't hold back her fanaticism. A strange creature that apparently nobody has seen before but for some reason is being spotted closer to nearby villages more and more? That is absolutely right up her alley. 
Now if she could only find the damn thing. The villagers seemed almost relieved that someone else was going to try and find this thing, so getting information was quite easy. While the area has been narrowed down, it's still a huge chunk of jungle. At this point it would be easier if the monster just came out and tried to eat her already. 
The mage percs up when they hear water flowing and walks in that direction until she stumbles on a river. She kneels down by the waters edge, it looks pretty deep or maybe the water is just too murky to see the bottom. She hums and pulls out the flask she enchanted, fills it with water and waits for the magic to properly dispose of the dirt particles and bacteria before taking a long gulp. 
This river is wide and the water flows slowly but surely past her. She places her hand in the water, curious to see if she can see the bottom or perhaps any fish to eat. 
She softly chants an incantation, forcing the dirt particles away from her hand. This proves harder than she thought as she's never had to cleanse flowing water before. 
She leans in closer to concentrate her energy and eventually the water becomes clearer and she can see something glistening at her from the water. Is that really treasure at the bottom of the river? Could she be that lucky?
 She squints and leans closer to get a better look, the golden specs glinting in the murky water blink at her through the surface. 
She freezes and the blood in her veins turns colder than the depths of the river. 
Before she can even move a huge clawed hand shoots up from the  surface and clings onto her arm, tearing through her cloak, undershirt and skin. There's no time for a painted scream as she's pulled into the water with great force. She can feel the waters resistance against her body as it's dragged into the murky depths. 
Before this beast actually drowns her she manages to force her other hand against the current to grip onto the beasts scaly wrist. She casts the first spell she can think of, Combustion. 
Suddenly the surface of the water explodes outwards, splashing water high into the air. She propels herself upwards and breaks the surface to hover above the water. She curses and looks around frantically, she can't lose the monster now. Panicking, she summons her hat and starts chanting, willing the plentiful vines of the jungle trees to plunge into the river and search for the beast. 
When she feels a tug she wills the vines to pull the heavy struggling mass to the surface. The huge mass writhes and thrashes in its confines as it rises from the water. 
She can finally see just how massive this thing is as it fights and snarls at her. It's much bigger than any Naga she's seen before, the human half is near orc sized! The bottom half being even bigger with the long thick tail thrashing in the water below. She reinforces the vines to bind the rest of the ridiculously large tail and sets the beast down on the ground next to the river. 
When her feet meet the ground, she sighs and wills the water out of her soaked clothes. She checks her bleeding arm and sucks in a breath at how deep the gashes are. 
"Now look what you did. Fucking hell, thats deep. How long are your claws?!"
Of course she can heal it but it's such a pain. The monster on the ground hisses and spits in response. 
She takes a better look at it, or him, she discovers. His scales really do shimmer like gold with black scales painting a pattern all the way down his back and tail. His white underbelly fades into something resembling human skin as her eyes move up his rapidly moving chest. The gold scales fade into a darker black down his shoulders to the tips of his clawed fingers. Her eyes flicker to his intense stare, pure gold flickers in his irises. His drenched black hair gets in the way of his glare. 
"Wow."
She can't help but verbalise her awe. She carefully moves around him to look at him in a different angle.
"I knew you were a naga. I knew it."
She summons a book into her hand, not her spellbook but one for these special cases. She flips to a new page and licks the tip of her pencil. She crouches down to look at him expectantly,
"Do you happen to know how much you weigh? What do you eat? Most nagas are some sort of omnivorous but I'm assuming you eat mostly fish. How many fish do you have to eat to stay this size?"
She gestures incredulously to all of his giantness.
He just growls some more, quiter this time as his confusion overtakes his anger somewhat.
"Come now, I know you can understand me and I know you can speak."
He stops growling to stare at her incredulously. How could she possibly know that? The giant snake man tries to readjust but hisses again, this time in pain. She jolts up and immediately goes to assess the wound on his wrist, which is tied tightly to his back. She cringes at the red, fleshy wound she created on his body. So much for first impressions. Without much warning she immediately starts with the healing spell. This creates great discomfort for him, as his cells rebuild themselves but she knows this is better than dragging it out for longer.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry."
She coos at the massive man almost like he's a child or a small animal. This woman evades him. Once she's done and his wrist is good as new she springs up and clears her throat, looking somewhat embarrassed.
"Sorry about that but...you did try to eat me so..."
He looks like he wants to say something but doesn't know how exactly. By the scowl on his face it doesn't look like it would be anything good. She crouches down again, peering down at him.
"Do you still want to eat me?"
He growls, nothing but hatred in his beautiful eyes as he hoaursly spits out,
"I want nothing more in the world."
"..."
The mage tries and fails to hide a girlish giggle behind her hand as she rocks back and forth on her feet. She reacts as if he'd just complemented her outfit. The Naga man pulls his mouth into a snarl and huffs in irritation, hating how this woman continues to confuse him.
After composing herself she summons her little reaserch book again, holding it against her crouched thighs to write.
"Have you actually ever eaten a human before? Be honest."
The Naga writhes in his bonds to eventually turn away from her so atleast he doesn't have to face his captor. He lies there for awhile just squirming every so often, he's already tried to cut the vines with his claws but she must have done some kind of reinforcement magic when she healed him. Damn witch.
While he devises an escape plan, he can hear scratching on paper from behind him. The mage seems to be writing quite a lot in her book. When the Naga looks back at her he catches her gaze staring intently at the intricate patterns on his back, the way the scant black scales blend with the bright gold makes for a very unique pattern.
"How much will you sell it for"
She stops sketching and looks back up at his eyes. She lets out a confused "hmm?"
This only makes him angrier.
"My hide! It must be worth a fortune! That's why you're here!"
Her gaze softens a bit, kicking herself mentally for being so unthinking towards the man. He might be big and intimidating but that doesn't mean he can't be scared for his life.
"Look, I don't want your hide. It would be much easier to just fake one anyway since nodoby knows what you actually look like. I just want to ask you a few questions and then let you get back on with your day. I'll even cook you a meal as a thank you."
The snake man is obviously skeptical, all he does is stare back at her with those gorgeous eyes.
She sighs and opens her book back up, flipping over to a particular page.
"Researching rare and perculiar creatures is a hobby of mine."
She rolls down onto her stomach and shuffles closer to the massive Naga. She leans on her elbows to show him the open page as if they were best friends at a slumber party and she's showing him her dairy.
"You're not even the rarest or most sought after Naga species I've met."
She points to a drawing she sketched of a male Naga, this one with the torso and arms of a human but the tail and head of a snake. There's a bunch of scribbles and descriptions around the drawing in a language he can't read.
"Where he's from people worship him like a god. He's a very rare species that can hypnotise someone just by looking into their eyes."
She chooses to leave out the part where she willingly let the Naga hypnotise her and use her as he pleased for weeks.
He doesn't have a response to give the mage, staring blankly at the pages as she rattles on about other species she has in her book. His skepticism somewhat dampened by these sketches of Naga just like him but with characteristics he's never seen before.
The mage notices how dark the sky has gotten, catching a few stars glinting overhead. She gets up and starts assembling the tent she brought. Pulling thick fabric out of her infinitaly deep satchel.
The Naga man just lies there watching, wondering if it would be so bad to comply with this mage. They don't seem dangerous or malicious at all but the magic they wield is still a concern. She talks to him as she works on building her temporary abode.
"Y'know, the village folk are quite nice. If you want I could talk to them, I'm sure they would rather cohabitate than live in fear of a man-eating monster in the jungle. Since you're definitely a rare species this part of the jungle could even be named as a conservation zone."
She keeps yapping stuff the Naga man doesn't care to listen to. The mage erects her shoddy little tent, does some sort of chant and then hurriedly crouches inside the small space.
She stays inside there for a while to the point where the Naga man thinks she might not return for the night. He smells something absolutely devine and realises it's cooked beef coming from inside the tent.
The damn mage walks outside with a steaming bowl of that devine smelling concoction. She stabs a piece of meat with a fork and offers it to him after blowing on it a little. She doesn't really give him time to react before poking the fork into his mouth. His taste buds are lighting up and he almost moans at the taste.
The mage grins at how he accepted her offer and stands back up.
"I just want to ask you a few questions. I'm sorry for causing you trouble but I didn't come all this way for nothing. I'm more than happy to repay you for your troubles if you just come inside."
After that she turns and walks back into the tent. As she walks away the vines binding his body loosen until they fall from his body entirely.
He's free. She's giving him an out. He could just leave.... But he can still taste the meat on his tongue. Nothing has happened to him yet so atleast he knows it's not poisoned or spiked. He turns to where the dark water of the river calls to him and turns back to the fire light coming from inside the mages tent. He sighs and hangs his head. As if the jungle itself is trying to urge him, a cool breeze blows past that seems to urge him closer to the tent.
The Naga sighs, stretches his sore limbs and slowly slithers towards the tent. He takes a deep breath before parting the fabric of the opening and crouching inside.
As he expected, the tent is much bigger than it appears on the outside. Bedding and pillows cover the floor and there is a fire with a pot over it in the middle.
The mage is humming to herself while pouring more steaming hot stew into two bowls. He sits across form her coiling his tail into a pile to sit on top of it.
She holds out a steaming bowl to him and waits patiently for him to take it. He hesitantly accepts the offer and, after watching her eat a fair portion of her own bowl, starts slurping up the meaty stew.
After the first and second serving the mage places her empty bowl aside and picks up her book. As the Naga pours himself a third helping she clears her throat, making him look up at her expectant gaze. He huffs but nods, lazing back against his tail to keep enjoying his meal. The mage gleams across from him.
"I don't know how much I weigh, I eat mostly fish and I've never eaten a human."
The mage scribbles all this down as he speaks, very pleased with his cooperation.
"How often do you shed?"
The Naga rests his arms on his tail like it's a comfy backrest. He takes a generous gulp of his stew before answering,
"...Once every season."
"So you grow moderately quick then? And you're still growing? Or do you think this is how big you'll get."
"I still shed, so I'm still growing."
The woman nods and jots that down.
"You're a constrictor type, right? No venom or hypnotising?"
He gives her a deadpan stare, as if to say "What do you think?". She gets the idea and confirms her own theory.
she chews her lip, deliberating something before she finally asks.
"Can I measure you?"
He gives her an irritated look before he slowly unwinds his tail from it's bunched up state, unfurling it out on the floor as he lies on his stomach.
The mage wastes no time springing up and pulling a rolled up tape measure out of her hat. She holds it out to him and says,
"Hold this at your head, please."
He boredly does as she asks and she carefully walks back the length of his body. He doesn't know why but he straightens his tail as much as possible while looking at her over his shoulder. When she gets to the tip of his thick tail she exclaims some numbers in a measurement he doesn't know but from the look on her face it's clearly impressive. She hurriedly scribbles that in her book.
The measuring roll disappears and the Naga goes back to his meal. He pours what's left in the bowl into his awaiting mouth before he feels a soft touch on his tail and freezes.
He slowly looks behind him at the culprit. He watches her with a predatory gaze as she hesitantly tests his patience. He watches her, as if daring her to go further and so obviously she does. She inches higher up his tail to where is gets much thicker, lightly tracing the patterns on his reptilian skin. She softly touches his golden scales as if they're fragile.
The mage gets more confident and crawls higher up his tail, getting more inquisitive and bold.
"Is the underside more sensitive?"
She asks, genuinely curious. He doesn't answer, just keeps staring at her with a look that says "Try it", so that's what she does. She looks into his eyes and slides her hand down the side of his tail towards the white underbelly.
He strikes before she can even blink. He has her on the floor coiled up in his tail as he entraps her whole body with his. She doesn't offer much of a fight besides some squirming but his tightening hold on her body forces her to still.
"Is this what you want mage?"
She says nothing, only looks up at him with those same curious eyes. He can feel her heart beat as he squeezes her rib cage, it beats steady and bold. She's not scared of him at all and that intrigues him more than he likes.
The Naga looms over her, he reaches out to grab her jaw tilting her head around to look over her face. He's tried to ignore it but he's also quite curious about her and her own species. He pinches his fingers slightly so that it makes her lips pout together before he reaches out with his other hand to take her pink tongue in between his thumb and pointerfinger. She just stares up at him, offering no resistance.
He strokes the small wet muscle with his thumb, rubbing over where it would split into two if she was a Naga like him. It's so small compared to his fingers and much warmer than he anticipated, probably due to the warm meal they just shared. He sticks his tongue out to lick the air and pauses when he smells something unfamiliar but unmistakable, coming from the Mages lower parts.
He's smelled it once before when he caught sight of a human woman bathing in the river, he couldn't help but linger in the brush and watch the human as she touched herself. He feels the same need now that he felt then, a curious burn in his stomach.
The mage struggles in his hold,
"I know you're curious too..."
She says up at him, almost hopefully. She slowly struggles her legs free to wrap them around his wide torso, squeezing him between her thighs. As he looks down at her the snake man feels her warm body heat radiating off of her seeping into his skin, the movement of her chest, her pulse. He can feel his cock poking out from the slowly parting slit on his white underbelly.
He licks the air one more time before his mouth catches hers in a needy kiss. She immediately kisses back with fever, fidgeting more in his hold making him tighten the heavy coils which only makes her let out a pleasured cry into his mouth. His tongue feels so odd on her own, it's much longer than hers and he pushes it down her throat with abandon.
His tail slithers around her body, lifting her shirt up. When she first feels his cold skin against her warm stomach she's filled with need to feel him against every inch of her skin. She struggles in his hold, kissing him with more need and trying to grind her neglected cunt against something.
The Naga huffs a laugh and watches her kick her legs helplessly.
"Do you have other clothes?"
He mumbles against her lips, she nods into the kiss.
His claws tear her pants and underwear away as if the garments were made of tissue paper, doing the same to the neckline of her shirt and undershirt. She groans at the feeling of his cold skin against hers and the humid night air on her cunt.
She feels a slick substance drip onto her pussy and groans loudly.
"Show me. Let me see."
She pleads and struggles even more. He chuckles and nibbles on the skin of her neck,
"Little thing like you should be scared. What if it's too much for you?"
His concern is real even if he's insanely turned on by this situation. Her body might not be able to keep up with her inquisitive mind.
"Try me."
She looks into his eyes with determination, he looks back. One of his hands go to stroke his growing cocks as they unsheath from their slit. She stretches to pear over his tail wrapped around her. There's two, one big cock clearly meant for insemination, the same colour as his white underbelly and a second reddish coloured one, she assumes is meant for extra stimulation. The Naga strokes the big one with one hand, both cocks have slick ooze spilling from them and they're dripping with slick which she guesses is produced from the slit they come out of.
She worms her hand over one of his coils to grip onto his tail, she whines loudly at him. She wants it inside her so bad. He chuckles at her again as more of his precum drips onto her pussy lips.
He can't deny her pleas for long and against his better judgement he prods at her entrance with his cock, rubbing the tip up against her hole.
She grinds up into him and he takes that as the go ahead to slide inside her. The slippery tip sheathes inside her rather easily, it's the rest of him he's worried about. He struggles to hold himself back from pounding the hot tight pussy squeezing around him, he truly doesn't want to hurt the Mage.
Said Mage is almost in tears at being unintentionally edged by him. She squeezes her thighs around his massive waist, squirming around as much as she can. The Naga finds he likes the way her soft naked body wriggles in his coils, he especially likes the way her thigh muscles tense and relax. His sharp claws gently caress the fat of her thighs, curiously squeezing and jiggling the fat slightly. She whines again and he decides to be merciful and slides his cock further inside her while gripping her thighs.
He's too slow, too cautious and she just can't take it anymore.
She mumbles a little spell and the Nagas body feels a sudden force pulling him closer to her making him hiss as his cock is suddenly thrusted to the hilt. The smaller cock is rubbing up against her clit delisciously and the slick coating his cock seeps out of her pussy.
"If I want you to stop, I can make you. Stop, pussying around fuck me."
He stares down at her with blown out eyes, she stares up at him so determined while still being thoroughly bound in his hold. His breathing is more ragged and a grin finds it's way on his face. He looks almost feral and it makes the mages pussy clench around him which makes him reactively thrust back.
She's spun around suddenly in his hold, his tail unwinding until her arms are free and there's one coil left around her waist. Her arms are quickly bound by his own hands, gripping her much smaller arms. He gives a hard thrust into her cunt and growls in her face as she moans back up at him.
He starts a rough pace, having thrown all cation to the wind. Her tight human pussy squeezes him so tight like he squeezes around her body with his tail. The loud wet slapping sounds his hips make against hers make everything even more erotic. His coiled tail around her grips her waist tightly and he groans when he can feel his own cock bulge against her stomach where his tail holds her.
He brings the end of his tail to wrap around her wrists binding them together while his ramming into her soaked pussy.
He speeds up even more and places his palm on top of his smaller dick, pressing it against her clit. His other hand is gripping her under thigh so hard she's pretty sure his claws have pierced her skin. The stimulation on his sensative cock makes him frantically thrust into her until he releases deep inside her. He shakes and spasms as he empties himself into her. If he was more conscious he would be embarrassed at how needy he must have looked.
His orgasm lasts quite awhile longer than she expected, she realises he must have been really pent up as his cock just keeps shooting seed into her every few seconds. The poor Naga looks exhausted when his orgasm finally ends. His eyes are closed, breathing deeply with strands of black hair fall delicately around his face. The tail around her wrists loosens and she immediately goes to pull him down into her embrace, clutching his sweaty body into her warmer one.
He hums into her neck, enjoying her warm softness. His tongue flicks out occasionally to lick her salty skin and smell her on the air.
"Did I tire you out, big guy?"
She jokes, while her hands caress the comparatively massive expanse of his back. She tries to remind herself that he might be inexperienced and more sensitive than usual, she doesn't want him to feel bad about getting overstimulated.
The Naga lifts his head from her neck, his body casts a shadow over hers as he looms over her again. He gives her a sharp fanged grin.
"Don't be so cocky, Mage."
The end of his tail slowly comes from behind to wrap around her neck as the coil still wrapped around her waist lifts her torso up high. His softening cock slips out of her dripping cunt as he lifts her up with his tail. She groans low as she feels the copious amounts of slick and spend fall from her pussy to the floor.
The naga curiously runs his thumb up the length of the mages pussy, gathering up the fluids. He feels a strange urge to keep as much of his cum inside her as possible. Careful of his sharp claws he opts to push his spend back into her pussy with his tongue, feeling the way she squirms and clenches around his forked tongue. The Naga hisses lightly in delight and smooshes his face into the fat warmth of her thigh while looking into her eyes. She peers at him with a dazed look, loving the way his tail lightly squeezes her thoat.
"I'm far from done with you."
As it turns out she didn't get to ask him many questions that night. Not that she complained about it much.
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faebled-stories · 2 months ago
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The Touch of Time
Kinkvember Day 15: Breeding
Aespa Winter (Kim Minjeong) x Male reader
11.6k words
AN: We are halfway done! This is the longest fic so far, I really enjoyed the concept. Thank you all for the continuous support💖
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In the distant future, humanity had shed many of the biological “weaknesses” that once defined it. From the moment of birth, every individual was fitted with a slim, almost invisible patch on their abdomen. This patch, designed to suppress primal desires and impulses, was hailed as a revolutionary step forward in the control of human behavior. Gone were the distractions of physical intimacy, the emotional turbulence tied to desire, and the chaotic unpredictability of natural reproduction.
DNA was now quietly harvested from a simple strand of hair, and reproduction took place in sterile laboratories, pristine and efficient. Physical touch, especially in the context of intimacy, was considered primitive, even taboo—an unnecessary relic of a less evolved past.
Minjeong, a young historian with an insatiable curiosity for the “old ways,” had always felt slightly out of place in this world. Her field of study focused on the intricacies of ancient human customs, the rituals and behaviors that had once bound people together. She spent her days in archives and libraries, poring over fragments of lives long gone.
Sometimes, in moments of quiet reflection, she wondered what it might have been like to live in a time when physical connection hadn’t been stifled by a patch. Yet, even with her questions, she had never truly dared to challenge the norms she had grown up with—until the day she discovered the book.
It was hidden, almost intentionally, in a shadowed corner of the university's vast, neglected library, coated in dust as if the world had tried to forget it. The cover was nondescript, worn smooth by time, with no title to hint at its contents. But as Minjeong opened it, a chill crept down her spine, and her heart began to pound.
The pages held something she had only read about in the most clinical terms: they described, in startling detail, how humans had once procreated—naturally, through touch, mutual pleasure, and deep, emotional connection. These words, so evocative and raw, held an intimacy she had never encountered, not even in fleeting dreams. The patch she wore had always silenced any stray curiosity about such things, but now, as she read each vivid passage, something unfamiliar and undeniable began to awaken inside her.
As she pored over the descriptions, a strange, tingling warmth spread through her body. She could hardly believe what she was reading—the language spoke of touch, skin meeting skin, the rush of unrestrained joy, sensations too elusive to truly grasp, yet undeniably alluring. She felt a pull, as though the book was leading her somewhere deeper within herself, a place she hadn’t known existed.
She kept reading, page after page, her cheeks flushing, her breath catching at times as she envisioned the “lost art” of human connection. What would it feel like, she wondered, to touch another person like that? To be touched, to share in a pleasure as mutual and instinctive as the book described.
Unable to contain her fascination, Minjeong decided to share her discovery with her friends. She met Karina, Giselle, and Ningning at their usual café, a sleek establishment with an atmosphere as controlled and pristine as the society it served. They were her closest friends, the only ones who tolerated her historical musings, though they saw them as mere eccentricities.
As they sipped on perfectly brewed coffee, Minjeong took a deep breath, gathering the courage to explain.
“So,” Minjeong began, her voice edged with excitement and trepidation, “I found this book in the library. It’s about... how humans used to procreate, you know, before the patch system.”
Giselle’s eyebrows shot up, and she let out a dismissive laugh. “Oh, here we go again. Minjeong, your obsession with ancient history is cute and all, but nobody wants to hear about people being all... gross and sweaty with each other.”
Minjeong’s face fell, but she pushed on, determined. “It’s not gross. It’s fascinating. The book describes the way they used to connect physically—how touch meant something. They had this thing called ‘orgasms,’ where their bodies would—”
“Orgasms?” Karina interrupted, giggling incredulously. “You mean, like, they’d enjoy rubbing up against each other? Like animals? That’s seriously disgusting.”
Ningning made a face, shaking her head. “I mean, why would anyone want that? We’ve evolved past that kind of stuff for a reason. I can’t even imagine wanting someone to touch me like that. Ugh.”
Minjeong’s cheeks flushed, but she pressed on, hoping to convey what she had felt while reading. “But don’t you see? It wasn’t just about the physical. The book talks about an emotional bond, a connection we can’t even comprehend anymore. Doesn’t that make you curious?”
Giselle leaned forward, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Curious? More like horrified. People used to waste time on that nonsense when we have perfectly good tech now. Why would anyone choose to go back to those primitive, messy days?”
Ningning chimed in, her tone a mix of disbelief and pity. “And for what, unnie? So we could feel... what exactly? A little thrill? That’s why we have simulations and sensory upgrades. Why would you even want something so... physical?”
“It’s not about just feeling something,” Minjeong said softly, though her voice shook. “It’s about connection. The book talks about something that went beyond just pleasure or physicality. It describes a bond, an intimacy that’s emotional, even spiritual. Don’t you ever wonder what that would be like?”
Her friends exchanged glances, almost as if they were silently agreeing that Minjeong had gone a step too far.
Karina crossed her arms, her expression guarded. “Honestly, Minjeong, you’re starting to sound a little obsessed. You’ve read too many old books, and now you’re idealizing a time when people barely understood themselves, let alone each other. It’s sad, really, how desperate they were.”
“Yeah,” Ningning agreed, shaking her head slowly. “You’re talking about a past that’s been left behind for a reason. I mean, if it was so great, why didn’t people keep doing it? They moved on, unnie. We all have.”
The conversation shifted soon after, with the others eagerly diving into discussions of their daily lives, work, and the latest technological advancements. Minjeong felt a heavy ache in her chest as she realized her friends couldn’t understand, and worse, they had no desire to try.
She thought of the book’s vivid descriptions—the gentle brush of fingers on skin, the shared gasps of pleasure, the promise of something deeper than she had ever known. It was as if she had stumbled upon a secret hidden within herself, and now, in the presence of her friends, that secret felt more precious but also more isolating.
Karina glanced at her, almost scolding. “Listen, Minjeong, you should probably stop reading stuff like that before it gets too far into your head. You’ll end up wanting things that just... don’t exist anymore.”
As they laughed and changed the subject, Minjeong stayed quiet, her mind lingering on the words in the book, replaying them in her thoughts like a forbidden melody. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the book was more than just a historical relic. It was a portal to something lost yet profoundly human—something she had been denied all her life.
Over the next few days, Minjeong’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts about the book. The descriptions of intimacy, of deep pleasure, and undeniable connection replayed in her head, each line lingering like a tantalizing whisper. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had glimpsed something profound, something long buried beneath the surface of her controlled world. The idea of experiencing real touch, raw and unfiltered, was impossible to ignore.
Driven by an insatiable curiosity, she decided to track down the author. The book seemed modern enough that she guessed its writer might still be alive. Hours of searching through online records and old archives finally led her to a name, yours.
She imagined you as an older scholar, perhaps with a lifetime of wisdom etched into your eyes—a figure hardened by years of research and deep understanding. But when she met you, her expectations unraveled. You were young, intense, and enigmatic, with a kind of fire in your gaze that spoke of passions and convictions hidden beneath the surface. In your eyes, she saw something she hadn’t expected: the same fascination with the past, the same relentless hunger to understand what had been lost.
Sitting across from each other in a quiet café, Minjeong couldn’t help but notice how differently you seemed to see the world. As you talked, your expressions shifted with each thought, a flash of yearning in your eyes that mirrored her own. Your voice carried a weight, each word carefully chosen as if guarding a truth no one else would understand.
“It’s strange,” she murmured, stirring her tea slowly, gathering her thoughts. “I’ve spent so long studying history, but I never realized how disconnected I feel from… everything. And then I read your book, and it felt like something inside me woke up, something that had been quiet my entire life.”
You leaned forward, a softness in your gaze that made her feel seen. “I know exactly what you mean,” you replied, your voice low and warm. “That’s why I wrote it. I wanted to preserve something real, something that made us human. The world today—it’s too sanitized, too empty. The patch has robbed us of something vital, something that our ancestors once cherished.”
She paused, uncertain whether to share her feelings about the reactions she’d faced from her friends. But your understanding eyes, the way you listened as if her words were precious, made her feel safe.
“My friends… they don’t understand,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “They think it’s disgusting to even consider physical touch or intimacy. When I tried to tell them about the book, they laughed. They don’t want to imagine it, let alone experience it. I feel… so alone.”
Your expression softened as you listened, and you hesitated just a moment before reaching out, your hand hovering near hers. The space between your fingers felt charged, almost electric. “You’re not alone, Minjeong,” you said, voice steady yet full of emotion. “I’ve thought about it constantly, too. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to take off the patch… to feel something real. But… I’ve never met anyone who would even consider it.”
Her heart pounded at your words, the thought flickering to life in her mind. She had been wondering the same thing for days—the possibility of removing the patch and experiencing everything the book described. Just imagining it made her pulse quicken, filling her with equal parts excitement and apprehension.
“Do you think…” Minjeong hesitated, searching your face. “Do you think we could try it? Take off the patch?”
You looked at her in surprise, something deeper stirring in your eyes—a longing that mirrored her own. “You mean… actually take it off?” you murmured. “You know it’s illegal, right?”
She nodded, feeling her breath catch, a flutter of thrill and nerves swelling in her chest. “Yes. I know. But… I want to know what it’s like. With you.” She paused, swallowing. “We just met but... I trust you.”
The air around you seemed to shift, growing thicker with the unspoken possibility lingering between you. Slowly, you reached out, your hand brushing gently against her arm, and even this slight contact sent a jolt through her, a strange warmth spreading from the place where your skin met hers.
“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice soft, eyes locked on hers. “Once we do this, Minjeong, we can’t go back.”
She met your gaze, her heart pounding, her face flushed with a mixture of excitement and something else—an ache she couldn’t explain. “I’m sure.”
The decision was made. Together, you prepared to take a step into the unknown, an act that felt both terrifying and thrilling. Moving in tandem towards stillness of your apartment, everything seemed sharper, as though the air itself were holding its breath with you. Minjeong lay down on your bed, her breathing shallow, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.
With a steadying breath, she began to strip, her movements deliberate and unhurried. She lifted her shirt over her head, revealing smooth, bare skin and the soft fabric of her bra hugging her form. Her fingers hesitated briefly before slipping down to unbutton her pants, sliding them off her legs until she stood there, clad only in her bra and panties. The small, smooth patch on her abdomen glinted faintly in the soft light—a mark of society’s control that had rested there for as long as she could remember.
To Minjeong, that patch represented a lifetime of safety, control, and order. It was all she had ever known, a constant presence that quieted any restless stirrings she might have felt. And yet, now, with you beside her, that little patch seemed more like a barrier—a thin, deceptive shield that stood between her and a life of real, unbridled sensation. For the first time, she felt ready to shed it.
You knelt beside her, heart hammering as your fingers hovered just above her skin. A thousand questions flickered in your mind, but one glance at Minjeong’s face told you she felt the same determination you did. This was an uncharted intimacy, raw and vulnerable, and as you gently laid your hand on her side, you felt the heat of her skin, warm and alive beneath your touch.
“Are you ready?” you asked softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, as though the room could be shattered by any louder sound.
Minjeong’s eyes met yours, filled with a trust so complete it took your breath away. She nodded, her voice a delicate thread. “I trust you.”
With a deep breath, you carefully examined the patch, your fingers brushing over its edges, searching for the small, hidden stitches. You had studied its design and knew the mechanics, but this was different. Here was Minjeong, lying before you, vulnerable, willing to let you unlock something deeply forbidden.
Your fingers found the first stitch, and with painstaking care, you began to unfasten it. Each small movement felt weighted with meaning, every shift of your hand a step further into the unknown. As you worked, a tiny prick of resistance tugged back each time you pulled at a stitch, as though the patch itself knew what you were doing, as though it was reluctant to release its hold.
A soft, sharp gasp escaped Minjeong’s lips halfway through, her hand instinctively reaching for you. She clutched your arm tightly, her grip firm yet trembling as she squeezed. Her breaths came quicker, each inhale shallow, as though her body itself were already bracing for the world that lay beyond the patch’s control.
“I’m sorry,” you murmured, voice gentle and soothing. You brushed your thumb softly against her arm, steadying her. “Hang in there, okay?”
Your words seemed to ground her, and slowly, she nodded, her face easing as she held onto you. The tension in her shoulders melted just enough for you to continue, and she focused on your voice, your touch, letting the pain drift away.
Finally, the last stitch slipped free. The patch gave way with a faint click, and as you lifted it, Minjeong’s entire body tensed, then softened in a single, breathless moment. Her eyes widened, a gasp catching in her throat as a strange warmth began to spread beneath her skin.
It felt like an electric current, a gentle buzz awakening nerves that had long been asleep. Her pulse quickened, beating fiercely against her ribs, echoing in her ears as her senses seemed to open, stretching in ways she hadn’t known were possible.
The air felt sharper, the softness of the bed more pronounced against her back, the sound of your breathing louder, more intimate. A flush rose to her cheeks, and she blinked up at you, her gaze dazed, overwhelmed by the torrent of sensations flooding her.
Your own breath hitched as you watched her, feeling the weight of her unguarded trust, the openness in her gaze. Her vulnerability mirrored your own, and it gave you the courage to act. With a steeling breath, you reached for your patch, the small, oppressive mark that had governed your life for so long.
Your fingers trembled as you slipped them beneath its edges, the adhesive resisting your touch. Heart pounding, you braced yourself for the pain. Gritting your teeth, you tugged hard. A sharp, searing ache ripped through your side, fiery and almost unbearable, as if the patch was trying to hold on, refusing to let go of the control it had over you.
But then it came free, leaving your skin raw and tingling, and you gasped, clutching the small device in your hand.
As the pain faded, a new sensation filled the space it left—a pulse of energy that rushed through your body, illuminating every nerve. The world sharpened around you, clearer, more vivid, as though a veil had been lifted. The faint hum of distant noises, the warmth of the room, the softness of the bed—everything felt magnified, brimming with a life you had never felt before.
For a moment, the two of you simply sat there, eyes wide, barely able to process the surge of sensations overwhelming you both. Each heartbeat, each breath, seemed to resonate with newfound depth, rippling through you in waves.
You looked at her, marveling at the transformation in her expression, her eyes wide and glistening with wonder. She looked back, her face a reflection of the awe you felt, a silent affirmation that you were both feeling something real, something profound.
“Do you feel it?” you asked softly, voice hushed with reverence, your gaze locked with hers.
Minjeong nodded, her lips parting as her voice came in a soft, breathless whisper. “I feel… everything.”
Without the patch, every touch, every brush of skin felt magnified, alive with a rawness that left Minjeong dizzy. Her senses felt heightened, each nerve sparking as if awakened for the first time. The air seemed thicker, charged with an energy she could almost taste, and her skin buzzed with an unfamiliar intensity. When you reached out, gently placing your hand on her thigh, her entire body jolted as a wave of warmth spread from where your hand rested, pulsing outward. Her breath hitched, her heart thudding as she instinctively leaned into your touch, craving more of this strange, electric feeling she couldn’t name.
Your hand moved slowly, almost reverently, sliding higher as your fingers traced delicate patterns on her skin. Each tiny movement sent sparks through her body, lighting up places within her that had been silent all her life. Minjeong’s body quivered, her skin hyperaware of every inch you touched, as if your fingers were leaving trails of fire in their wake. Her hips shifted involuntarily, her body responding to you with an eagerness she barely understood but couldn’t resist.
When your fingers brushed over the delicate place between her legs, a flood of sensation hit her, and her control snapped, unraveling as her entire being reacted to that single touch. The pressure, the intensity—it was overwhelming. She felt her body arch, a soft gasp escaping her lips as a surge of heat radiated through her, more powerful than anything she could have imagined.
“Oh—oh my God,” Minjeong gasped, her voice trembling as her hips bucked against your hand, her body acting on instincts that felt both new and achingly familiar.
You froze for a moment, watching her with wide eyes as her body trembled under your touch. Minjeong’s breath came in short, desperate bursts, her chest rising and falling as an uncontrollable wave of pleasure surged within her. She reached out, clutching at your arm as if you were her anchor, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of awe, confusion, and something else—a deep, unspoken yearning.
“What’s happening to me?” Her voice was barely a whisper, breathless, as her body shook, caught in a sensation that was both exhilarating and terrifying.
You looked down at her, your gaze filled with understanding and warmth, as if you knew exactly what she was feeling. Brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, you leaned closer, your voice low and soothing. “I... I think you just had an orgasm.”
The word echoed in her mind, stirring memories of the book’s descriptions—the culmination of human intimacy, the apex of physical connection that had always seemed like a distant concept.
She remembered the clinical language, the detached explanations, and realized just how shallow those words had been. They hadn’t prepared her for this—something so consuming, so raw it made her feel as though she was discovering a part of herself that had been hidden all her life.
Her fingers tightened around your arm, anchoring herself as she felt the aftershocks ripple through her, each one leaving her a little more breathless. “That was... an orgasm?” she whispered, her voice tinged with wonder and disbelief.
You nodded, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you watched her, your expression filled with tenderness and awe. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Just like in the book... but maybe better than either of us ever imagined.”
Minjeong lay back, her mind reeling, as her body continued to hum with the afterglow of pleasure. She felt alive, awake in a way she’d never known before, as though she’d unlocked something deeply hidden within her. She had just experienced an orgasm—something her body had been denied all her life, a sensation so visceral it left her trembling.
“I... I didn’t think it would feel like that,” She admitted, her voice soft and still a bit unsteady. She looked up at you, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide. “It felt... so much more than anything I read. It was like... like I was completely free, like I’d let go of something I’d been holding onto forever.”
You reached out, your fingers brushing her cheek in a gentle, grounding touch. Your gaze was steady, filled with warmth, as if you truly understood what she was feeling. “It’s different when you experience it,” you said softly, your voice soothing. “The patch kept it all locked away for so long... it makes sense it would feel this intense.”
As the waves of her orgasm began to subside, a new feeling stirred within Minjeong—an instinctual curiosity, an urge she hadn’t anticipated. She felt an almost primal desire to reciprocate, to touch you the way you had touched her. If her body had responded so powerfully, so completely, to your touch, what would happen if she reached out to you?
The thought of seeing you experience that same kind of release, of watching your body tremble and surrender to pleasure, sent a fresh surge of excitement coursing through her, a thrill that made her heartbeat quicken.
Without hesitation, she shifted closer, her fingers reaching out tentatively to trace a line down your stomach. The feeling of your skin under her fingertips felt both foreign and exhilarating. She could feel your muscles tense beneath her touch, your breath hitching as her hand drifted lower, guided by a mixture of curiosity and a lingering echo of the sensations she’d just experienced.
Her movements were deliberate yet hesitant, testing the boundaries of her newfound courage. Slowly, Minjeong’s fingers found the waistband of your pants. With a slight glance up, her gaze met yours, searching for any sign of hesitation. When she found none, she hooked her fingers into the fabric, tugging them down along with your boxers in a single motion, exposing you completely. Her breath hitched, her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t stop.
Her hand moved with a new confidence, wrapping around you gently, the warmth of her touch sending a jolt through your body. You exhaled sharply, the sensation overwhelming, and she couldn’t help but notice the way your body responded instantly to her. A soft groan escaped your lips, your hips shifting slightly toward her touch as if your body was seeking more.
She began to move her hand slowly, cautiously, her strokes experimental but deliberate, guided by what she’d read and a deep, unspoken desire to bring you the same kind of pleasure she’d just felt. The weight and heat beneath her palm were new, almost intoxicating, as she adjusted to the rhythm that seemed to draw those delicious, throaty sounds from you.
“Minjeong…” Your voice was low, breathless, your eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and desire. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” she whispered, her determination evident in the way her strokes became more confident. “I want you to feel what I felt.”
Her hand moved steadily, her touch becoming bolder as your body reacted to her. She felt the tension ripple through your muscles, your breathing growing heavier with every passing moment. Each groan, each subtle arch of your hips, sent a shiver down her spine, fueling her desire to keep going.
Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as her pace quickened, her strokes more purposeful now. The room filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and soft moans, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you. She watched your face, captivated, as the tension in your body built toward an inevitable release, your hips moving in time with her hand in a desperate, instinctual rhythm.
Minjeong’s curiosity got the better of her as she adjusted her position, leaning closer to get a better look. Her eyes lingered on every detail, mesmerized by how your body responded to her touch. She wanted to see everything, to witness the effect she had on you up close. Her hand continued its rhythm, her strokes steady and deliberate, her lips slightly parted in concentration as her gaze stayed fixed on you.
Then, with a deep, guttural moan, your body tensed, your muscles tightening as your climax surged through you. Minjeong’s eyes widened as she felt the first sudden, hot burst against her hand. She gasped in surprise, her heart pounding as she watched, unable to look away. The release was powerful, shooting hard and fast, catching her completely off guard.
A warm streak hit her cheek and trailed down to her jaw, while more landed on her neck and pooled in her hands. Her breath hitched as she stared, her lips parting in astonishment at the sight. The moment felt surreal, intimate, and raw, leaving her stunned and unsure of what to say or do.
Her face flushed a deep red as she glanced up at you, her hand still resting lightly against you. “Oh my God,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “Did I… did we waste it? I-It’s supposed to… you know… go inside.” Her gaze flicked nervously between you and the evidence pooling in her hands, uncertainty clouding her features.
Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you came down from the high, your body still trembling slightly from the intensity. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, the glazed expression softening as you met her worried gaze. A gentle smile tugged at your lips, and you let out a low, reassuring chuckle.
“No, Minjeong,” you said softly, shaking your head. “You didn’t mess up. This… this is normal. You did everything right.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, her lips curving into a shy, tentative smile as she glanced down at the evidence of her effect on you. Still holding it in her hands, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Despite her initial embarrassment, a flicker of pride warmed her chest—she’d brought you to this moment, and it filled her with an intoxicating mix of exhilaration and wonder.
Minjeong’s gaze lingered on her hands, her fingers glistening with the warm remnants of your release. A curious expression crossed her face as she processed everything, her mind racing. She had read about this before—about the way a man’s body reacted at the height of pleasure—but witnessing it firsthand, feeling the heat of it against her skin, was entirely different. It was raw, intimate, and strangely captivating.
Her brow furrowed slightly as she continued to look, her curiosity getting the better of her. Almost without thinking, she tilted her hand, letting a small trail of it slide down her finger. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at you as if seeking silent permission. Then, emboldened by the heat still lingering between you, she brought her finger to her lips.
The taste was unexpected—salty, slightly bitter—but it sent a shudder through her, her body reacting instinctively. Her cheeks flushed a deeper red as she licked her lips, the unfamiliar sensation heightening the arousal already simmering within her. The intimacy of the act, the knowledge that it came from you, made her heartbeat quicken.
Minjeong glanced up at you, her eyes dark with unspoken emotion, the lingering taste on her lips seeming to ignite something deeper within her. “It’s… different,” she murmured, her voice soft but filled with a quiet, almost shy desire. Yet there was no mistaking the spark in her gaze as she leaned closer, her curiosity and arousal intertwining in a way that left her yearning for more.
“But… what now?” she asked, her voice small and uncertain. “Does it… does it take a long time to… I don’t know… come back?”
A gentle smile spread across your face as you reached for the edge of the blanket, wiping yourself clean, your gaze warm and understanding. “No, not as long as you’d think,” you replied softly. “Just give me a minute… trust me, with the way I’m feeling right now? It won’t take long.”
Minjeong’s cheeks flushed as she felt the tension still pulsing between them, an intensity that hadn’t faded but had only grown stronger. Though her body had already released once, it was still alive with a hum of anticipation, craving more of the closeness that had only begun to reveal itself. Her skin felt sensitive, every inch of her alive and awake, and the desire that lingered between you both seemed almost endless.
As you pulled her close, your breath warm against her ear, your voice dropped to a low, intimate whisper. “The desire… it’s unbearable, isn’t it? We’ve held it back for so long… now that it’s free, it’s hard to stop.”
She nodded, her own breath catching as she leaned into you, feeling the heat radiating from your body. “I didn’t think it would be like this,” she whispered, her voice soft and filled with wonder. “It’s like… I can’t get enough.”
Your hands drifted down her back, fingers tracing slow, delicate paths that sent tingles down her spine, igniting her senses further. With deliberate care, you reached for the clasp of her bra, unhooking it and sliding the straps down her arms, exposing her to your gaze. She shivered under your touch, the anticipation in her eyes mirrored by the rising heat between you. Gently, you guided her panties down her hips, leaving her completely bare before you.
You leaned in, pressing soft, lingering kisses to her neck, shoulders, and collarbone, each one drawing a soft gasp from her lips. Your mouth trailed lower, worshipping her with every kiss as you explored her body, your lips brushing against her chest, stomach, and hips. The warmth of your touch and the intimacy of your kisses set her skin ablaze, her body trembling beneath you as your affection deepened the connection between you.
She could feel you stirring beneath her, your body responding just as eagerly, recovering quickly and pressing against her with a palpable urgency. Her heart raced, her pulse quickening as she realized just how deeply this hunger ran—not fading, but growing, expanding with each heartbeat, filling every part of her with a yearning she hadn’t known was possible.
Her voice barely a whisper, she looked up at you, her cheeks flushed with desire. “I… I want to do it again.”
A flicker of something intense crossed your gaze, desire deepening in your eyes as her words sank in. You leaned in close, your fingers trailing down her stomach with a deliberate slowness, and her body reacted to your touch as if it had been waiting for it all along, each caress building a tension that left her breathless. “Me too,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “We can take our time… explore every part of this together.”
Minjeong felt her pulse quicken as your hand drifted lower, each touch more confident, and yet filled with care. There was no rush this time—each movement, each gentle caress felt purposeful, as though you were savoring every moment. Her breath hitched as your fingers found her center, brushing over her with a tenderness that set her body alight. She could feel her hips lifting involuntarily, craving more of your touch, her body arching toward you, completely attuned to the rhythm you were setting.
But you held back, your movements measured, each stroke a deliberate invitation to surrender. Minjeong’s hands gripped the sheets, her fingers twisting in them as she fought to keep some sense of control, but every motion of your hand sent ripples of pleasure coursing through her, slowly eroding any restraint she had left. Her mind was hazy, her thoughts blurred as she gave in to the sensations, letting herself feel every spark, every touch.
Your voice, soft and steady, cut through the haze, anchoring her. “I’ll follow what the book says,” you murmured, your tone reassuring yet filled with quiet excitement. “But you can tell me if anything feels too intense… we can go as slow as you want.”
She met your gaze, her eyes filled with trust and anticipation, nodding as her voice caught in her throat. She watched as you reached for the book—the one you’d written, your meticulous research woven into its pages—flipping to a section that you both had studied countless times. Back then, the words were abstract, a roadmap for a journey neither of you had truly embarked on. Now, they felt vivid, alive, as you stood on the edge of turning theory into reality.
Your voice was steady but tinged with wonder as you read aloud, revisiting the descriptions of intimacy that had once seemed so clinical. “This part,” you murmured, “it’s about connection—real, physical connection. It says to feel, not just to touch. To be present in every moment.”
You set the book down beside you, your hands trembling slightly as they moved to her skin. Following your own written guidance, you traced a line down her arm, feeling the softness of her flesh, your touch lingering. “Even after all my research,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, “I never understood how different this would feel. How real.”
Minjeong shivered at your words, her lips parting as your fingers brushed her thigh, gliding lower to gently spread her legs. Her breath hitched, her body already responding to the unspoken promise in your touch. “It says to let the connection build naturally,” you continued, your tone soft yet deliberate. “No rushing, no hesitation… just us.”
Your hand slid between her folds, your fingers moving slowly, reverently, as if committing every detail to memory. Her hips bucked instinctively against your touch, and the sound of her soft moan filled the room. The book’s instructions felt distant now, a framework that was giving way to something far more instinctual, far more profound.
As you continued to explore, positioning yourself over her, you kept your gaze on her, your eyes holding a mixture of tenderness and longing. “According to this,” you murmured, your voice soft and steady, “I’m supposed to… enter you slowly. We can take it at your pace… but once we both reach our climax… I’m meant to stay inside, to hold that connection.”
Her heart pounded, but she nodded eagerly, the words barely leaving her lips as she whispered, “I want that… I want to feel it all.”
With a careful, gentle movement, you positioned your shaft and slowly entered her. The both of you stilled, caught in the shared intensity of the sensation. A rush of warmth spread between you, each of you feeling the other in a way that was beyond description.
Minjeong’s hands found your back, her fingers pressing into your skin as she closed her eyes, losing herself in the overwhelming sensations that pulsed through her. It felt as though her entire being had awakened, each nerve attuned to the rhythm you created together.
She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost missed your voice breaking the quiet.
“So, apparently,” you began, glancing down at the book with a look of intrigued curiosity, “if two people share an emotional connection, every touch, every sensation can deepen the experience. It says to explore, to learn each other’s bodies, to let it build naturally.”
Her breath hitched as your words settled in the space between you, her body already trembling beneath yours as you began to move again. The slow, deliberate rhythm of your thrusts made every nerve in her body feel alive, each motion sending waves of pleasure radiating through her. She met your gaze, her vulnerability mirrored in the unspoken trust you shared.
You leaned closer, trailing soft, deliberate kisses along her neck, letting your lips linger on her skin. She shivered at the warmth of your mouth, your movements in sync with the rhythm of your hips. Her breath hitched again as you moved lower, your lips brushing against the sensitive curve of her collarbone before descending to her chest. Her body trembled as you kissed her nipples, your tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before your lips wrapped around it.
The sensation was overwhelming, an electric jolt that combined with the fullness of you inside her, making her arch instinctively beneath you. When you began to suck gently, a soft, breathy moan escaped her lips, her hands clutching at the sheets as the intensity of the moment consumed her. Each thrust seemed to amplify the pleasure, the combined sensations creating a crescendo of raw emotion and physical connection.
Her mind raced, her heart pounding as waves of pleasure built steadily within her, each one more powerful than the last. Every pull of your lips, every flick of your tongue, every deliberate movement of your body within hers heightened the connection between you, making her feel more vulnerable and alive than she ever thought possible.
She arched into you, her body moving instinctively in time with yours, her breathing growing shallow and uneven. “This,” she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion, “it’s so much more than I ever thought it could be.” Her words were punctuated by gasps and soft cries, her body surrendering completely to the rhythm you shared.
Each touch, each calculated movement between you was designed to bring you both closer to that edge, but neither of you rushed.
Minjeong felt lost, spinning in the sensations as you guided her towards a second climax, your every touch bringing her closer to that peak once more.
“I’m close again,” Minjeong whispered, her voice trembling, her body tensing in anticipation. “I can feel it…”
“Me too,” you murmured, your voice thick with desire. Your hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as you moved with her, your breath hot against her skin. “Let’s do it together.”
Your bodies moved in perfect rhythm, your pace quickening as the tension built between you, an energy so intense that Minjeong felt it vibrating through her very core. Her breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps as her hands gripped your shoulders, feeling the second wave building within her, ready to crest.
The pressure was unbearable, the heat flooding through her body as you moved together, faster, harder, each movement pushing her closer to the edge.
“Now,” you whispered, your voice tight with urgency, as if holding back any longer was impossible. “Now, Minjeong.”
Minjeong’s body surrendered completely, her second orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. The sensation was all-consuming, rippling through her in waves that seemed to touch every nerve, every hidden corner of her being.
Her back arched sharply, her head tipping back as her mouth parted in a breathless, almost desperate gasp. The pleasure was unlike anything she had ever known—raw, overwhelming, and deeply intimate.
Her legs wrapped tightly around you, instinctively pulling you closer, as if anchoring herself to you in the midst of her climax. The intensity of the moment only heightened as her inner walls clenched rhythmically around you, pulsing in time with her racing heartbeat.
Each contraction was powerful, drawing you deeper, her body gripping you with an unrelenting tightness that seemed to plead for more, to keep you there, locked in this moment of shared ecstasy.
She felt the warmth of your release flooding her, a sensation that sent an unexpected jolt through her body. It was an unfamiliar but exhilarating feeling, the heat spreading within her and amplifying her pleasure to a level she hadn’t thought possible. It was raw, primal, and so deeply intimate that it made her tremble in your arms, her body shuddering as she rode out the waves of her orgasm.
For you, the feeling was equally overwhelming. Her inner walls milked you with a desperate, almost unrelenting rhythm, each squeeze sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. It felt as though her body was drawing out every drop, holding you tightly in a way that made it impossible to hold back. A deep, guttural moan tore from your lips as you gave in completely, the force of your release leaving you trembling.
Each pulse of your release was matched by her contractions, the two of you locked in a perfect, instinctual rhythm. Her warmth surrounded you, heightening the intensity of your climax, every squeeze of her body dragging out the pleasure, making it feel endless. The connection between you was palpable, an unspoken understanding communicated in every motion, every sound, every shared breath.
Minjeong’s cries blended with your own, the room filled with the raw, unfiltered sounds of pleasure. As your climax subsided, the echoes of her soft moans and trembling gasps remained, lingering in the air. You stayed buried within her, her legs still wrapped around you, her arms pulling you close as if she couldn’t bear to let go.
Both of you were left breathless, trembling, and utterly consumed by the intensity of what you had just shared—a moment that transcended the physical, leaving an indelible mark on both of your hearts.
For a brief, perfect moment, it was as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the two of you, entwined and breathless, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of what you had just experienced. The room was filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths, rising and falling together as you clung to each other, feeling the lingering aftershocks of pleasure resonate between you.
Minjeong’s chest rose and fell in sync with yours as she held onto you, her heartbeat slowing as she grounded herself in the warmth and weight of your embrace. The sensation of being so close, so in tune, left her feeling utterly content, yet completely vulnerable.
Each time she felt you shift or tighten your hold, she felt the memory of each pulse, each lingering sensation, flooding her with a gentle warmth, a comfort she hadn’t realized she’d been craving.
Her fingers traced gentle patterns on your back as she lay there, absorbing the reality of what you had shared. She felt every lingering pulse within her, each subtle echo of your release, and the closeness left her feeling both exhilarated and deeply moved. She looked up at you, her eyes soft, a small smile on her lips, still too overwhelmed to find words but hoping you could feel the depth of what this moment meant to her.
You brushed a strand of hair from her face, your gaze filled with a tenderness that matched her own, and pulled her close, holding her as you both soaked in the quiet intimacy. The connection between you was more than either of you had expected—something that reached beyond the physical, beyond what words could express. And for now, the world outside could wait.
After a few moments of silence, you spoke, your voice soft and filled with a wonder that mirrored her own. “That was… more than I ever imagined.”
Minjeong nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak. Her body buzzed with lingering aftershocks of pleasure, her mind racing to comprehend the magnitude of what she’d just experienced. She hadn’t thought it was possible to feel so much, to connect so deeply with another person.
“The book didn’t even come close,” she whispered, her voice trembling as emotions welled up within her. “I didn’t know… it could be like this.”
A gentle smile played on your lips as you brushed a strand of hair from her face, looking at her with a gaze filled with understanding and affection. “Neither did I,” you replied softly. “I can’t believe we went our whole lives without that.”
You lay together in the quiet of the room, still tangled in each other’s embrace, your bodies warm and relaxed as you both reflected on what had just happened. The weight of your decision to remove the patches, the overwhelming intensity of your shared experiences, and the depth of the connection that had formed left both of you in awe. Minjeong realized then, with a clarity that made her heart ache, that she couldn’t go back to the way things were. Not after this.
A warmth stirred within her, different from before—not just curiosity or experimentation, but something deeper, something that felt like an unstoppable need. Her body craved you, not just to explore, but as if she were drawn to you in a way she couldn’t fully explain. The thought of being close to you again, feeling your touch, sent shivers through her entire body.
You noticed her subtle movement, the way she shifted against you, and gently ran your fingers through her hair. “Are you okay?” you asked softly, your voice filled with care and understanding.
Minjeong looked up at you, her heart pounding as her eyes met yours. The connection felt stronger now, more intense, like a current running between you that couldn’t be ignored. “I… I need you again,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
Your eyes darkened, a spark of need flashing as you took in her words. Your hand slid down her back, pulling her closer, pressing her body against yours. “Already?” you asked with a faint smile, though your voice betrayed the hunger that mirrored her own.
“I can’t help it,” Minjeong admitted, her cheeks flushing as her body pressed against you, feeling every inch of you against her. “I can’t stop thinking about it… I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Your expression softened as you held her close, sensing the depth of her need and responding with your own. The air thickened between you as you both gave in once more, realizing that the bond you had unlocked wasn’t something that could be silenced or ignored
She felt you stir beside her, your body responding immediately to the heat in her words. The hunger within her sharpened, an intense, primal need that was more than just physical. It was something deeper, something raw and instinctual that seemed to awaken with every heartbeat, urging her closer to you. Her body ached to feel you again, to pull you closer in every way, and the intensity of her need made her breath catch.
Your hands roamed over her body, your touch igniting a fire beneath her skin. The anticipation sent a thrill through her, her pulse racing as she took you in, the desire radiating off both of you like a palpable heat.
“I want to feel you again,” Minjeong whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of her need. “I want you to… to keep going… to keep bre—”
She hesitated, her cheeks flushing, searching for the right words as her eyes met yours. But you seemed to understand without her needing to say it. Your hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into her skin as your gaze locked with hers, filled with both passion and tenderness.
“To keep breeding you?” you murmured, your voice thick with both lust and affection.
Her body reacted instantly, a hot wave of sensation spreading through her at your words. The idea of it—of you filling her again and again, the intimacy of it, the unbreakable connection it represented—was overwhelming. She felt her breath hitch as she nodded, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering touch.
“Yes,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. “I want you to breed me… again and again.”
A soft groan escaped your lips at her words, and you adjusted her position, your hands sliding beneath her thighs as you pushed her legs up, resting them on your shoulders. The shift folded her body slightly under your weight, her knees pressed close to her chest as you leaned into her, your body flush against hers. The angle sent a shiver through her as the anticipation built, her heart racing as she felt your hands gripping her hips firmly.
Slowly, you pressed into her, her body stretching to accommodate you, the familiar pressure igniting every nerve in her body. Minjeong gasped, her head falling back against the pillow as the sensation overwhelmed her. The new angle made everything feel more intense—every inch of you seemed to reach deeper, filling her completely in a way that made her toes curl.
Her hands gripped your arms as her hips instinctively rolled forward, meeting your movements as you began to thrust into her, slow and deliberate at first. Each motion sent shockwaves of pleasure through her, her back arching as you leaned further into her, your weight pressing her firmly into the bed.
The pleasure was electrifying, each thrust bringing her closer to the edge, her body trembling beneath you. Her breaths came in short, shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly as your pace quickened. Her body folded under your weight as you leaned forward, driving her deeper into the bed.
Your hands slid up her sides, trembling with urgency, before cupping her face gently, your thumbs brushing over her flushed cheeks. The contrast of your tender touch against the intensity of your movements made her gasp, her soft, breathy moans growing louder as you pressed her further into the mattress.
“Minjeong,” you groaned, your voice thick with need, your gaze locking onto hers. Her flushed cheeks and parted lips only spurred you on, the sight of her beneath you, completely vulnerable and lost in the moment, driving you closer to the brink.
“I’m yours,” she whispered, her voice trembling as her fingers clung to your shoulders, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “I’m completely yours.”
Her words ignited something primal in you, and your movements grew faster, deeper, the new angle amplifying the sensation for both of you. Her body tightened around you, her inner walls gripping you with each thrust, milking you for everything you had. The pressure building within her was almost unbearable, her core aching for release as her muscles clenched and fluttered around you.
Overcome by the intimacy of the moment, you leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Her soft, eager response heightened everything, her lips moving against yours with a hunger that mirrored the rhythm of your bodies. The warmth of her mouth, the way she gasped into the kiss, made every nerve in your body feel electrified.
As your lips pressed harder against hers, you felt her trembling beneath you, her inner walls clenching tightly around your member in rhythm with every thrust. Each squeeze sent shockwaves through your body, the intensity of her responses drawing you deeper into the shared ecstasy. Her whimpers were muffled by your kiss, and her fingers tangled in your hair, holding you close as if afraid to let go.
The kiss deepened, slow but intense, a perfect counterpoint to the raw, primal connection of your movements. Her cries became softer, breathier, blending with your groans as the sensations built to an almost unbearable level.
The intimacy of the kiss, combined with the feeling of her pulsing around you, brought you both closer to the brink, your bodies and hearts completely in sync as you moved together toward the edge.
“Minjeong… I’m close…” you murmured, your voice strained, your body trembling as you fought to hold back for just a moment longer, wanting to bring her over the edge with you.
“Don’t stop… please don’t stop…” she gasped, her voice breaking as her hands pressed against your chest, her body trembling beneath yours.
As you tried to hold on, your body trembling with the effort of resisting your release, your position unintentionally shifted. Your hips angled slightly as you pressed into her, and suddenly, your length grazed something deep within her that made her entire body jolt violently.
A sharp, high-pitched cry tore from her lips, her eyes flying open in shock and overwhelming pleasure as her nails dug into your arms. Her expression was a mixture of surprise and desperation, her voice trembling as she gasped, “Oh my God—right there!” Her thighs trembled against your shoulders, her whole body arching into you. “Do that again—please, keep doing that!”
Her reaction sent a rush of adrenaline through you, and despite the accidental nature of the movement, you adjusted to repeat it, angling yourself to hit that spot again. Her cries grew louder, her body tightening around you as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her, the intensity of the sensation completely melted her.
Minjeong's cries grew louder, her body arching beneath you as her legs trembled on your shoulders. The intensity of her pleasure was palpable, each thrust drawing a mix of desperate gasps and cries from her as her walls tightened around you even more, gripping you with a rhythm that was almost too much to bear.
Suddenly, with a powerful thrust, she shattered, her orgasm crashing over her with a force so intense it felt as though the entire world had disappeared. The weight of your body pressing her into the mattress, the relentless rhythm of your deep thrusts, the angle perfectly abusing her most sensitive spot—all of it combined into a crescendo of pleasure that overwhelmed her completely.
For a brief, fleeting moment, Minjeong’s mind went utterly blank. The sensations overtook everything else—waves of ecstasy rippling through her as her body convulsed uncontrollably beneath you. Her walls clenched and pulsed around you, milking you desperately, her muscles tightening in a rhythm that seemed to beg for more, even as the overwhelming intensity left her trembling. The warmth of your release filling her, mixing with the previous flood, heightened everything, the feeling of fullness amplifying every pulse, every flutter of her core.
Her body shook violently, her hands clutching at you for grounding as tears welled up in her eyes. A broken sob escaped her lips, her voice trembling as she gasped for air, completely overcome. Her hair was a wild mess, clinging to her damp, flushed face, and her cheeks were streaked with tears she didn’t even realize she was shedding.
Each thrust, each contraction, sent her spiraling further into a blissful haze until her body could only quiver under you, her mind and body utterly consumed by the raw, primal connection.
Finally, her cries softened into breathless whimpers as her climax began to wane, leaving her trembling and spent. You slowed your movements, carefully easing her legs down from your shoulders, and leaned into her, wrapping your arms around her trembling body. She clung to you instinctively, her face buried against your chest as she shuddered uncontrollably, her body still quivering from the aftershocks of her release.
“It’s okay,” you murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as you held her close. Your hands stroked her back in soothing motions, trying to ground her as she came down from the overwhelming high. Her breaths were uneven, and you could feel her trembling against you, her body still wracked with small, involuntary shakes.
Minjeong’s fingers gripped your shoulders tightly as if anchoring herself, her voice trembling as she whispered, “That was… that was so much… I’ve never… I didn’t know I could feel like that.”
You hugged her closer, cradling her against your chest as she melted into your embrace, her trembling gradually easing under your touch. The room was quiet except for the sound of your shared breaths, the intensity of the moment lingering between you. As you held her, her quivers became softer, her body finding solace in your warmth, the bond between you deepened by the raw, unfiltered intimacy of the moment.
For a long moment, you stayed like that, tangled in each other’s arms, your bodies still humming from the intensity of what you had just experienced. Her heart raced in time with yours, her mind spinning as she held onto you, feeling as though nothing else existed but the two of you.
As the aftershocks of their shared pleasure began to fade, Minjeong lifted her head, her eyes meeting yours. The connection between you was undeniable now—deeper and more intense than anything she had ever imagined. It wasn’t just about the physical closeness anymore; it was the way you looked at each other, the way your bodies moved in perfect rhythm, the way her heart seemed to beat in time with yours. She could feel that you were a part of her now, in a way that made her feel both vulnerable and fiercely protective.
You smiled softly, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. “That… was even better than the first time.”
Minjeong nodded, her body still buzzing in the blissful afterglow. “I didn’t think it was possible to feel this way,” she murmured, a dreamy smile playing on her lips.
“It’s like we’re rediscovering it all over again,” you replied, your voice filled with wonder. “Every time.”
Her heart swelled, a warmth blooming within her that went beyond the physical. She looked up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, the sincerity of her emotions bringing a slight tremor to her voice. “I think I’m falling for you,” she whispered, her words laced with a vulnerability she hadn’t shown before.
Your gaze softened, and your hand cupped her face, pulling her closer. “I’ve been falling for you this whole time,” you whispered back, your lips brushing over hers in a tender, lingering kiss that sent a shiver down her spine.
You lay together, tangled in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence. The quiet moments that followed were thick with understanding, an unspoken connection that now simmered between you both.
Each touch, each kiss felt like a rediscovery of something sacred, something you had both been yearning for without knowing. Minjeong could feel the bond between you growing deeper, a realization that filled her with a comforting sense of security, yet also stirred something unsettling within her.
After a long silence, with her head still resting against your chest and her fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin, reality began to creep back into her thoughts. She thought about the future—the knowledge you had uncovered together, and what you would do next. What you had discovered was too profound, too life-changing to keep hidden. She lifted her head, meeting your gaze with a determined look.
“We need to tell people,” she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of the revelation. “We can’t keep this to ourselves. Others deserve to feel what we’ve felt.”
You listened, though a shadow crossed your face, your hand stilling as you gently traced her back. “I know… but who do we tell? And how? Most people… they won’t understand. They’ll think we’re out of our minds.”
Sitting up slightly, Her mind drifted to the three other girls she held closest to her heart “Maybe… we start with people close to us. People we trust. Maybe I could tell my friends.”
Your expression remained serious as you considered the idea. “Your friends? The ones who thought the book was just some weird obsession?”
A hint of uncertainty entered her voice, but she pushed on. “Yes. I mean, they laughed it off, but they’re like family to me. They’ve been my closest friends for years. I love them… and maybe, if I explain it to them, they’ll understand. And who knows? Maybe they’ll want to experience it too.”
At first, the idea of sharing this discovery with her friends was thrilling to Minjeong. Karina, Giselle, and Ningning were her closest friends; they had been by her side through everything. If they could experience the depth of what she’d felt with you, maybe it could change their lives, too. But the more she thought about it, the more her excitement twisted into something else.
The thought of them with you—of any of them touching you, experiencing your closeness, seeing the look in your eyes that had been meant for her—left a sour, unsettled feeling in her chest. She imagined your hands on them, imagined you laughing with them, and it made her stomach clench with a sharp pang of jealousy she hadn’t anticipated.
Her heart pounded, and she felt a fierce possessiveness rising within her. This was different; what you shared was hers. The mere image of anyone else sharing in the same closeness made her skin prickle. She shifted, tightening her hold on you almost instinctively, her fingers curling against your chest as she tried to suppress the surge of emotions.
“Actually… maybe not,” she muttered, almost to herself, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she gazed up at you.
You raised an eyebrow, catching the sudden shift in her tone. “What happened to wanting to tell everyone? Didn’t you say you wanted to help people feel what we’ve felt?”
She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I do,” she stammered, glancing away. “I just… I don’t think they’d get it—not yet. And maybe not them.”
You chuckled softly, amused by her possessiveness, your eyes glinting with teasing curiosity. “Oh, so now you don’t want to tell them?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips. “Weren’t they your ‘closest friends’ a second ago?”
Her face grew warmer, and she huffed, shifting uncomfortably as she avoided your gaze. “It’s just… they didn’t understand the book at all,” she muttered, her voice quieter now. “And besides, I… I don’t want—”
You tilted your head, still smiling as your fingers traced gentle patterns along her back. “You don’t want what?” you asked, your tone soft but teasing. “You don’t want them to know about me?”
A small, frustrated sound escaped her as she buried her face against your chest, mumbling, “I don’t want them to… try anything.”
You chuckled, finding her protectiveness endearing. “So you don’t want anyone else getting too close?” you teased gently, your fingers brushing through her hair.
“It’s not funny,” she grumbled, her cheeks hot as she sulked against you. She sighed, glancing up at you, her voice laced with worry. “What if they’re curious? What if they want to know what it’s like with you?”
The laughter rumbled softly in your chest, and you wrapped your arms around her, holding her close. “Minjeong, you’re overthinking this,” you murmured, stroking her hair. “They don’t need to experience it with me specifically.”
But her mind couldn’t let go. She imagined them asking you questions, seeking the same closeness that had been so deeply personal to her. Her pout deepened as she looked up, her voice quiet but insistent. “But… what if they wanted to try it? What if they wanted you?”
Seeing the worry in her eyes, your expression softened. You brushed a strand of hair from her face, letting your hand linger on her cheek as you held her gaze. “They’re not you,” you said simply, your voice steady and sincere. “What we have… it’s special. No one else can have that.”
Minjeong felt her heart flutter at your words, but a part of her still sulked, her brow furrowing as she clung to you a little tighter. “I just don’t want to share you,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not with anyone.”
You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and your voice was warm as you spoke. “You don’t have to. I only want you, Minjeong. You’re the only one I want.”
She let out a soft sigh, nestling closer against you, her tension easing slightly. “But what if they do get curious?” she murmured, almost to herself, her voice filled with a hint of lingering protectiveness. “I know how they are… they always want to try things they don’t understand.”
You chuckled again, finding her jealousy both adorable and sincere. “Minjeong, I promise no one’s going to get between us. If they want to know what we’ve found, we’ll explain it together. But you’re the only one I want to share it with like this.”
She looked up at you, a pout still lingering on her lips, though her eyes softened. “You’re sure?” she asked, her tone almost childlike, her fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “Because I don’t want you to change your mind later… I don’t think I could handle it.”
You gently cupped her face, looking at her with steady, genuine warmth. “I’m sure,” you whispered, your voice sincere as you met her gaze. “Minjeong, I don’t want anyone else. What we have is ours. No one else can even come close.”
A small smile began to spread across her face, and she felt her possessiveness slowly fading, replaced by a warmth that made her cheeks flush. “Okay,” she murmured, though a hint of playfulness glinted in her eyes. “But just so you know, if they do try anything, I’m not sharing.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Good to know. But trust me, they’re not going to get the chance.” You pulled her closer, your arms wrapping securely around her, reassuring her with the warmth of your touch. “Besides, I think it’s kind of cute how protective you are.”
She grumbled, rolling her eyes, though she couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her lips. “Well, you better get used to it,” she muttered, snuggling deeper into your embrace. “Because I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t plan on letting anyone else get anywhere near you.”
A laugh escaped you, and you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “That’s perfectly fine with me,” you murmured. “I’d be happy with just you by my side.”
Finally feeling at ease, Minjeong let herself melt against you, feeling a bit silly for her jealousy but incredibly reassured by your words. The tension and uncertainty that had simmered beneath her feelings now softened, melting away as she realized the depth of what you had both discovered. It was something so much bigger than either of you alone—something that the world had long forgotten.
The patch was supposed to protect humanity from its own vulnerabilities, to mute the wild unpredictability of desire, of connection. It had promised a life of control and purpose, of efficiency and calm. But in shutting out the power of feeling, it had left behind a vast emptiness, a numbness that had become so normalized that no one had even realized what they were missing.
But now, she understood the beauty of that vulnerability, the fire of human connection that couldn’t be controlled or contained. Every touch, every shared breath, every heartbeat reminded her that being human wasn’t something to manage or tame. It was messy and consuming, unpredictable and deeply, deeply real. It was finding peace in another’s arms, feeling the thrill of closeness, and, yes, even feeling possessive and protective of the person she wanted most.
Minjeong looked up at you, her gaze warm but serious. “I don’t think I could ever go back to the way things were. Not now that I know what it’s like… to feel everything so deeply. To be connected to you like this.” Her voice was soft but steady, filled with a quiet determination. “It’s like I’m finally… alive.”
You held her closer, your expression filled with a tenderness that needed no words. “I feel the same,” you whispered. “I don’t want to go back either. And maybe we don’t have to. Maybe we can be the ones who bring back what everyone’s lost. Show people what it really means to be human.”
In the quiet warmth of the room, as you both held each other, Minjeong felt the weight of that purpose settle into her heart. What had begun as a curiosity, a glimpse into forgotten history, had turned into something so profound, something that connected her to the core of her own humanity. It wasn’t just love she felt—it was a fierce commitment to the truth you had uncovered together.
“We’ll start slowly,” she murmured, her voice calm but filled with conviction. “One step at a time. Maybe people will be afraid, maybe they won’t understand… but we’ll show them. We’ll show them what we’ve found.”
You nodded, and your hand found hers, fingers intertwining as a silent promise. “Together,” you said, your voice steady.
As the night deepened, the two of you lay there, wrapped in the knowledge that the connection you shared was precious, rare, and undeniably real. It was the beginning of something new, something powerful. And as Minjeong drifted off in your arms, she knew that whatever lay ahead, you would face it side by side, carrying the flame of a rediscovered humanity—one that pulsed with raw, unfiltered feeling and a love that no patch could ever silence.
You had both rediscovered what it meant to be human, and together, you would awaken a world that had forgotten.
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b3ach-bunn7 · 6 days ago
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READ YOUR MIND
You're roommate and her boyfriend are incredibly loud, so you decide to spend the night at your hot friend Jason's house.
fluff, college!au, confessions, one bed trope
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It takes about twenty minutes of internal conflict before you find yourself outside Jason’s dorm room. 
You feel stupid. It’s not like you haven’t been in Jason’s room before. You guys were friends. He’d slept on your couch after a movie night gone too long, you’d stayed up for hours writing essays together on his bedroom floor. This was nothing weird, nothing new. 
But for whatever reason, today it feels different. 
It might be the fact that you’re seeing him differently. You’re not sure when, but the line between friend and something else has started to blur. You don’t know how you didn’t notice the strong slope of his jaw, the fact that he was probably strong and muscular enough to throw you over his shoulder. How funny he was, how kind he was. The fact he studied English, how smart he was at it. It’s really no one's fault but his own. You’re surprised you’d lasted this long without crushing on him, anyway. And maybe the way his eyes lingered a little too long on your own. Innocent touches felt like something else, a hand holding your hips as he stepped behind you, a thigh against your own as you sat in impossibly tight lecture halls.
Whatever. There’s no point looking at it like that. You love your friendship with him too much to let a little crush ruin it. 
If you were in any other situation, you wouldn’t be here. But it’s late and you know of all your friends Jason’s the most likely to be awake. You don’t want to bother him but you can't spend another night third-wheeling with your roommate and her boyfriend. That, and the fact that it gets particularly loud whenever you come to sleep. 
After a deep breath to steel yourself, you knock on the door. It takes only a few seconds before it swings wide open. 
And God, you take back everything you just said. Because he's wearing a pair of grey sweats, and an old band shirt that is showing off his delicious arms, and you don’t know if you can blame the fact it’s nearly midnight on the thoughts running through your head. His movements are slow, sleepy, as he blinks at you confused.
He pushes his glasses up his head, tufts of brown hair falling over his face. “Oh. Hey. Is- Are you okay?”
“Oh god, did I wake you?”
“Nah, you’re good.” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms.
It takes a second before the words come out of your mouth. “I- Lily. She has- She has her boyfriend round, and I don’t sleep very well when he’s there.” You laugh awkwardly, scratching your arm.
You hold up the books and paper you brought with you. “You mind if I crash here tonight? I bought stuff to keep me busy, so I’ll be out of your hair.”
Jason smiles easily, pushing the door open further. “Of course, yeah.” 
You step in, thanking him as he grabs the stuff out of your hand and puts them on his front table. His dorm is so boyish. Him and his roommate, an eccentric boy everybody called Gar, were not the best at interior design. Their couches are dark grey with red pillows, jarring against the white carpet you’d bought them as a housewarming gift. The kitchen was an amalgamation of whatever plates and mugs they’d found at thrift stores, their fridge filled with pictures from Gar’s old polaroid camera. It was cute and very them, and a warm place to sleep that wasn’t accompanied by the sound of your roommate and her boyfriend doing whatever the hell they got up to alone.
“Thanks again. I can’t stand another night with those two.”
Jason snorts a laugh, sitting down on the couch. “It can’t be that bad. They’re nice people.”
“Yeah, sure. But all they do is remind me of how painfully single I am.” You huff, sitting beside him.
He’s close enough that you can smell the expensive cologne he wears. He’s shown you it once, a fancy glass bottle. He’s spritzed it on your wrist and the smell lasted all day. He nods at your words, and you turn your head towards the TV to avoid his gaze.
“That guy you saw last week didn’t work out?” 
Your eyebrows furrow. Honestly, the date had been crap, and you’d forgotten about him the second you’d gone home. You’re surprised he remembers. You tell Jason about all of your romantic adventures, hoping it will have some effect on your feelings for him. It hasn't been very successful so far. And while Jason looks disinterested as he asks you, eyes focused on the movie on screen, his leg taps up and down, and he looks a little restless. You think about lying for a split second, but you can’t bring yourself to do it.
You scoff. “I haven’t spoken to him since. He was boring. And stupid.”
Jason laughs, his eyes crinkling. “That’s rude!”
“He couldn’t hold one conversation with me! Like, I asked him what his favourite book was and he said Diary of a Wimpy Kid. We are nineteen years old!” You whine, hands covering your face as Jason cackles next to you.
“So that’s all women want. A man who reads?” There's a teasing lilt to his voice and you roll your eyes.
“Well, duh. I am studying English after all. I’d like to be able to hold a conversation with him about what I do.”
“That’s a fair dealbreaker, I'll be honest.” Jason hums, resting his arm on the back of the couch, brushing your back slightly. “Is that all you’re looking for in a man?”
The TV blares quietly in the background. Some random show on the food network where the contestant currently on screen looks like they're about to drop the tiered cake in their hands. His question rings out in the room, and you know you only have a few seconds before your silence is considered awkward. But you can’t help but think his question is so suggestive. Does he want to know why out of innocent curiosity? Or does he want to know out of something else?
“Well. Obviously not.” You finally say, bringing your knees up to your chest. “But English comprehension would be nice.”
Jason snorts a laugh. “That being said. He has to be funny. And tall, at least taller than me. And he needs to be smart. And fit. Like, physically.”
Jason watches you with a small smile on his face, nodding, like he knows you're just trying to describe him in a roundabout way. You laugh, a little nervous under his gaze. You reach across the couch and grab the remote.Your arm brushes against his leg and the contact is fleeting but it makes your skin burn.
“And all these guys at uni, and you haven’t found one who fits?” 
His voice is lower when he speaks again, and when you look at him he’s looking at you so intensely. And it’s then you notice that the two of you are sitting quite close on the couch, considering it's one big enough to fit about four people. 
“Well. Yes. I- Maybe.”
He just nods again. You take a quick breath in, quickly grabbing your book from the table. “Did you finish the essay for next week?” 
Jason groans, leaning his head back on the couch. “Fuck. No. I completely forgot.”
You wave your own essay in the air. “Well. I was gonna ask you to read over mine, but. Nevermind then.” You sigh dramatically.
“Shut up. Lemme read.” He takes it out of your hand, slipping his glasses back on his face. They’re thick rimmed lenses that make him look older than he is and you love them.
You watch him as he reads, fingers playing with his bottom lip as his eyes skim over your work. Some part of you feels the tiniest bit self-conscious, because he is a hundred times smarter than you, but you know he’d never make it feel that way. Jason suddenly looks up and his eyes meet yours. You smile, face heating, as he raises an eyebrow.
“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?”
“Shut up.”
You tap the edge of your paper. “Good?”
“Great. Can you write mine too?”
You snort. “You wish.” Jason pouts and drops your paper back on the table.
“It’s fine. I’ll do it tomorrow. Right now I’m hungry.”
You sit up immediately at that. “Yes. Let’s order food.”
Jason looks back at his kitchen. “I shouldn’t. I’ve eaten takeaway every night this week, I think. It’s also,” he quickly glances at his watch, “barely half twelve. What’s even open right now?”
You groan, shaking his shoulder. “Jason, don’t be responsible! I’m here, this is like a sleepover. We need to eat something junk-foody.”
Jason just frowns. You flick the centre of his glasses and he tuts. “Hey.”
“I’ll even pay! It’s on me.” You nod and pull out your phone. You’re opening UberEats before he can protest again.
“See. Burger King is open. We love Burger King!”
“We do?”
“Yes. What do you want?”
“A whopper.”
You spend the next ten minutes deciding and then the next thirty waiting anxiously for your food. The thing with Jason, and probably the reason you like him the most, is that you can talk to him about anything. Tonight, it’s his brother Dick’s birthday party. He leans in to show you the picture on his phone, and you try not to laugh at how unhappy he looks to be photographed.
When the doorbell rings Jason runs to grab the food, before bringing it back to the two of you. It takes another twenty minutes for the two of you to finish eating, old episodes of Friends humming in the background. Sleep circles your limbs and you yawn, sipping on blue slushy that had come with your order. It’s entirely too sweet and stains your tongue blue but you keep drinking it anyway.
“I don’t know. Bruce is always asking me to come over, but. Things are still weird.”
You nod. “Yeah, I get it. But it’s good you’re trying. I-“
You're cut off suddenly by Jason yelling and pointing at your arm. You screech, dropping your slush and shooting off the couch.
“What! Oh my god, what is it?” You yell, hands rubbing at your sleeves.
“You-“ Jason tries to speak but his words are cut off by a laugh. “It was just a little bug.” 
“Jason. That is not funny! You freaked me out, look!” You whine, pointing at the now spilt slushy all over your hoodie.
“Ah, shit. Sorry, sorry.” 
He gets up and grabs some tissues and you furiously dab at your hoodie. The couch is also now blue, and you frown. “There goes my bed, too. Guess I’m sleeping on your bedroom floor today.” 
Jason perks up where he’s blotting the couch. He frowns, thinking for a moment. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, what? Take my bed.”
Your hands drop to your sides. “Well what about you?” 
“I’ll take the floor. It’s my fault you split this, anyway.” 
“It’s your bed. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor.”
“Well, it’s my dorm so. I think I’ll have the final say, sweetheart.” He teases. 
You bite your bottom lip, thinking, and toss the used tissues on the table. “Why don’t we just sleep together?”
The tips of Jason’s ears turn a dark red and he looks a little shell-shocked at your words, before it’s replaced by a smirk. Your face flushes too, and you quickly shake your head.
“I- Not like that, I meant- Stop laughing.” You snap. But the sight of him laughing behind his hand makes you giggle a little too.
“I just mean, like. I don’t mind sleeping in the bed with you. I just- I don’t think there’s any point in one of us sleeping on the floor, if there’s a perfectly good bed that can fit us both, you know?”
You’re well aware that you’re rambling, and the way he tilts his head and smiles at you is not helping. He gives the couch one last wipe and stands.
“Alright. That’s cool with me if it’s cool with you.  I can also get you something else to wear.” He gestures at your now blue hoodie and you smile gratefully.
You’ve been in Jason’s room once or twice, to grab something or take a call. But this time it’s different, because you’re looking at his bed and you’re going to be in it in about five minutes. You ignore the band posters plastered on his walls, the messy stacks of books all over his floor. You sit gingerly on the edge of the mattress and wait. He comes in only a moment later. He starts rummaging through his drawers and you just watch. He glances at you over his shoulder and shakes his head, huffing a laugh.
“Stop staring. You’re making me nervous.” He whispers.
“Man up.”
He throws a hoodie at you and you catch it. “You know where the bathroom is.”
You walk into the toilet and quickly get changed. You leave your old hoodie in the hamper. Jason’s one is bigger and smells like him, and you don’t see yourself giving this back anytime soon. You give yourself a quick once over in the mirror, fixing your hair and wiping mascara from under your eyes, before you head back to Jason’s room.
When you come back, Jason’s already in bed, doing something on his phone. You linger in the doorway and he looks up.
“You want a formal invitation?”
You roll your eyes and shuffle your way over. You gingerly lift up the sheets and climb in. You are so painfully aware of how close he is, your shoulders brushing as he puts his phone to the side and lays down properly. The room is silent other than the two of you breathing. Just when you're about to speak, he beats you to it.
“Night.” He whispers.
“Goodnight.”
You’re not crazy, right? This is weird. Maybe if it was Victor’s room. A boy friend who was completely platonic, it wouldn't mean anything. But you’ve felt the tension between you and Jason, the subtle flirting, the lingering touches. You know that whatever is happening between you guys is not just friendship. And you have no idea if it's just you, because Jason is breathing so evenly you think he’s fallen asleep already. 
You shuffle a little in the sheets, uncomfortable. They smell like Jason and it’s not helping to calm your thoughts down. You turn around to lay on your side, and when you do, you’re met with a face right in front of you, looking back. 
It doesn’t take long for your eyes to adjust to the darkness and this close, you can make out the spattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose, the grey hairs he’s growing at 20 that he always complains about. His eyelashes are so long, and you smile sleepily.
“Hi.” 
He smiles too. “Hi.”
“I can’t sleep.” You mumble, eyes fluttering shut. “Those burgers woke me up.”
Silence. You don't get a reply. You open your eyes again and Jason is just staring.
“Is there another bug on my face?” You joke. But he doesn't laugh.
“No. You just look so pretty right now.”
Your mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. Jason looks like he’s telling you the time of day, so casual. He lifts up his hand slightly, and brushes a strand of your hair from out your face.
“I- Thank you.”
He doesn’t say anything again. You don’t know what to say. A silence settles over the room again. The two of you just look at each other. And just when you’re about to break it, he sits up so fast it makes you jump.
“Jason, what-”
“I can’t do this, I-”
You eyebrows furrow and you sit up, watching Jason flick on the lamp on his bedside table. The room is enveloped in a soft warm light, and his hair is tousled a little, his shirt wrinkled from how quickly he got up.
“What is going on right now?” “Did you know Gar isn’t home?” He says.
You say yes, because the fact you can’t hear him yelling at COD or something else, and the fcat he didn’t come say hi, is enough clue that he’s not home. 
“Right, so. When I made you spill your slushy, which was an accident by the way, I could’ve easily just let you stay in there. He wouldn’t care.”
“Okay.” You say slowly.
“And. I didn’t. Because I knew that you wouldn’t let me sleep on the floor and i wouldn’t either, and then we’d be in this position, and I’d finally get the chance to fucking tell you how i feel.”
“How- How you feel?”
“Yes. And then I pussied out and I just said goodnight, and. And then you looked at me, and, fuck. I can’t take it anymore.”
And then Jason turns to look at you, and he looks so desperate as he grabs your hands, his skin calloused as he tightens his grip. 
“I like you. A lot. And, you know, I’d like to think I'm pretty smart, but I know I am horrible when it comes to people, at feelings. So I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that.”
This is a dream. There’s no way this is real, that the Jason Todd, biceps and all, is confessing to you on his bed. You want to pinch yourself because the way his thumb is rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand is making your heart squeeze in your chest.
You watch those pretty brown eyes furrow slightly at your silence. 
“I- If you don’t feel the same way, I-”
You don’t think before you reach forward, palms grabbing his jaw and pulling him forward so you can press a kiss to his lips. And he barely waits a second before his eyes flutter closed, hands tangling in your hair to pull you impossibly closer. Your arms slide down to curve around his neck and you toy with the hair on the nape of his neck, and he groans. You finally let go and he leans his forehead on yours, kissing your nose, your cheek.
“I like you too, by the way. If the kiss wasn’t tell enough.”
He grins, boyish and handsome, and you want to kiss him again.
He sighs happily, hands slipping up the edge of his hoodie, eyes waiting for your nod of approval. When he gets it, he smiles again, pressing a kiss to your jaw.
“God, thank fuck for Lily and her boyfriend
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nia try not to write a college au mission impossible... I LOVEE JASON TODD! In my head any alternate universe hes not emo so i write him nice and cute.
thanks to all who voted in the poll! im gonna make my way through all the guys on that list so look out for it! next up will be shinsou because of a very nice commenter ;P i hope u all enjoy this, leave any fic ideas in my ask box!
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gilverrwrites · 30 days ago
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Some fluff with Bruce : him giving you his mothers pearls… ;) it could be a wedding gift or any other special occasion idk ❤️
Me? Writing fluff again? It's one of my favourite things to do but damn I do it so rarely! Warnings: None!
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Standing at 6’2 and weighing easily 210 lbs, your husband-to-be isn’t exactly hard to miss, or so one might think. A lifetime of skulking around on rooftops, and blending into the shadows meant Bruce was very good at only being seen or heard when he wanted to be. You’ve long since come to terms with that fact, but in your bridal suite, moments before your wedding is not the time or place.
You tell him as much as soon as you notice his reflection in the vanity mirror. He’s imposing, even with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his charcoal suit, the very same one his father had worn decades ago to his own wedding, tailored somewhat to allow for Bruce’s abundance of muscles.
Blue eyes watch you intensely as you scarper behind the wicker folding screen, but you don’t miss how the wrinkles around his eyes scrunch up, amused, as he half-grins at your dramatic reaction. Bruce has never been a particular stickler for traditions or superstition, but for some reason, you’d expected this one to be a no-brainer.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s bad luck- “
“For the groom to see the bride on their wedding day, I know, I know, but I had to see you.” His voice grows louder with each silent step he takes until he’s standing directly in front of you. Less than a half-inch of woven wood acts as the only barrier to his line of sight.
“Well, you can’t!” You chide, your tone is light but firm.
“I…” He hesitates, unconsciously kicking his feet against the soft carpet, and tentatively you peek around the divider to watch as he considers his words. For all that he has done, the leading, the strategising, the saving the world over and over, Bruce has never been good at speaking from the heart. It’s another trait you’ve learned to love, it means that when he does, he really means it.
“Yes, Bruce?” Careful to expose as little of your attire as possible, you tilt your head around the screen to peek at him.
“I brought you something. Your something borrowed, or old. I don't know but it would mean the world to me if you would wear them. If you could, that is.” You watch as he draws his hands from his pockets, ever so carefully and composedly revealing a string of shining ivory pearls. They are not wrapped or boxed, too beautifully delicate and familiar to warrant any eccentricities. You’d seen them a million times before, but never would you have considered having them situated around your own neck. They were far too important to Bruce for that.
“Are those… your mothers?” He nods in reply, leaning closer as he stretches his open hand to you. Hesitantly, you meet his hand in the middle, ghosting your fingers across the smooth gemstones, too cautious to take them.  
“My parents, their legacy…” Bruce goes on, his voice is so deep, so close to your ear it almost makes you lightheaded. “For the longest time I thought Gotham was the only thing that could compare with regards to who or what I care about but then Dick came along, then Barbara and Jason, and so on. Before I’d even noticed it, I cared about so much. My heart was practically full.”
“Awh, you’re such a softie Bruce.” You tease. Dusky pink builds in his cheeks as he chuckles, smile growing when his eyes lock onto your own grin. Simultaneously, his free hand clasps over your own, pressing your bare hands into his mother’s necklace before he continues.
“Almost full.” He states. “There was just enough room left for you. The last piece. You complete me and I couldn’t possibly know what my parents would think about all this, of you, but I like to believe they would approve, that they would want this. Want what makes me happy.”
“And wearing these, what would make you happy?” You ask.
“Exceedingly.” He confirms.
“Then how could I say no.”
His breath hitches, eyes examining every inch of you appreciatively as you step out from behind the divider, as if he hadn’t already committed whatever view he’d caught of you in the mirror to memory. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, you don’t look too shabby yourself.” As you speak, you turn away from him, somewhat awkwardly with your hands still linked, until your back is to his chest. He gets the point quickly, unlinking your fingers and ghosting his strong, warm fingers over your shoulders before unclasping the pendant you’d planned to wear for the ceremony until a moment prior.
“Mrs Wayne.” You sigh quietly, watching through the vanity reflection in the corner as Bruce carefully readorns your neck. “Those are gonna be some big shoes to fill.”
“Not at all. Martha Wayne certainly was not the Wayne ideal when she married my father, and she never changed a thing about herself to fit in. Or so I’m told.” Bruce presses a soft kiss to the back of your head. “Keep being who you are. It’s what I want, and I know for certain it’s what she would have wanted too.”
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fromduck · 1 month ago
Text
(Yandere Baby Daddy x Reader)
Tw: Murder, Brief mention of birth
A/N: the kids gender is up to you guys :P Also this was written in one hour sooo quality might not be there ˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚
-unedited-
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-The father of your child is an eccentric man.
-Tap dancing on the streets. Bringing you flowers and kisses that you vehemently avoid.
-Your child giggles at his silliness and you can tell he loves them too by the way his eyes soften.
-He brings gifts to you both, spoiling you two rotten.
-Though you wished he’d stop with the weekly proposals. Dramatically getting down on one knee and professing his undying love to you. Promising to sweep both you and your child off your feet. Off to a place where you all can finally live as a family.
-Your child watches with wide eyes, looking up to you, hopefully. You know they lounge to see the both of you together but there are reasons you refuse to marry him.
-The father of your child is a dangerous man.
-When you had been a naive younger woman, you’d fallen for his charms and his pretty lies. You’d watch him enamored with rose tinted lenses. Romanticizing everything he did.
-Little did you know that he’d been watching you for a long time.
-You had fallen into his arms, defenseless to his charms and he couldn’t have been more pleased.
-You were wrapped around his finger and he worshipped the ground you walked on.
-It was only until you got to see the rest of who he is, that you fell out of love. The part of himself that he hid from you.
-You never knew what he did for a living. The dangerous people he would meet secretly through deals, the death he surrounded himself with. The deaths that he caused.
-He always had such a lovely smile, who could blame you for thinking he was good. For being fooled into believing he was who you thought he’d be.
-Yes— at times he may be controlling or possessive of who you were seeing. And the times he’d have that murderous glint in his eyes whenever a man approached you.
-But those signs were easy to ignore when he’d make you forget.
-Then, he killed someone in front of you.
-Some thief— had put his hands on you, pressing a knife to your neck while demanding money from your lover.
-The thief had barely held you for a second before blood splattered on your soft cheek.
-Your lover- the loving man you had been used to seeing was gone. What was left was a murderous beast who had brutally thrown a small switchblade to the thief’s head.
-The small knife was deeply embedded in his head——between his eyes.
-You trembled placing a hand to your cheek, as the once living man dropped to his side—unmoving.
-Toned arms wrapped around your shocked form. He held you strongly, apologizing to you for putting you in that situation. Getting a handkerchief to wipe the blood from your face.
-“B-but….you killed him.”
-His warm eyes dimmed as he muttered, “he deserved it.”
-After that things changed, your lover got comfortable with hurting others in front of you.
-Even the tiniest glance in your direction had him ready to attack the other person.
-You kept quiet for a long time, no matter how much you wanted to speak out.
-It was then you started to see how normal the killing and the violence came to him. How unbothered he looked.
-Maybe it’d be you one day. Maybe he’d hurt you.
-You really should leave. You knew that.
-You loved him too much and you feared the consequences if you confronted him. You were stuck, unsure of what you should do.
-Then you found out you were pregnant. And the decision came easy to you.
-Your lover was an unpredictable man, you didn’t know if a child would be safe around him.
-So with a heavy heart, you wrote a letter and left it in your shared bedroom.
-With that, you tearfully ran away to a far away city. Away from the man you thought would keep you safe.
-You spent months working odd jobs to sustain you and your unborn child.
-Friends came naturally without the intimidating presence of your ex-lover. A supportive friend group of older women guided you through your pregnancy, many of them mothers themselves. They prepared you for motherhood with gentle words and encouraged you all the way.
-When you’d gone into labor, the hospital was full that night. None of your friends allowed to be with you while you went through with the excruciating pain alone.
-Tears welled up in your eyes. You’d never felt so alone at that moment.
-Then a large hand had enveloped yours and a familiar voice encouraged you to be strong.
-Tender lips pressed against your sweaty forehead and you held tight to the large hand.
-Through your blurry vision you could see the faint outline of the man you had left behind.
-Instead of seeing a disappointed or angry glare from him as you expected—- he only looked at you softly as he continued to encourage you to be strong.
-It was as if he knew why you ran away and chose to forgive you.
-He never left your side as you gave birth—only when you needed something to drink or to get a wet cloth to wipe you off your sweat would he do so. And he was very quick, not wanting to leave you alone with the doctors and nurses who helped you through the birthing process.
-Hours of excruciating pain and many thinly veiled threats from your lover to the hospital staff later—- and your baby was born.
-The child had the same coloring of your ex lover. The tuffs of hair the same as his as well as their eye color.Everything else was yours.
-The color of your skin, the shape of your lips, everything.
-You looked in awe at the wailing baby as your lover praised you with kisses to your cheek.
-You held the child close to your chest, your lover embracing you both.
-Too exhausted you fell asleep with your newborn in your arms. The last thing you heard was your lover whispering, “you both are mine.”
-Now five years later, you sit down in a park bench. Your child is giggling as they’re pushed by their father on a swing.
-He’s a good dad. Always showing up for your child. Both you know it’d be best if you married him.
-He looks back to wave at you. A grin on his face.
-You wave back.
-You both know it’s only a matter of time.
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Chrollo Lucilfer
Human Alastor
Non-Sorcerer Satoru Gojo
Osamu Dazai
Original Character
YOU DECIDE!
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froggiewrites · 3 months ago
Text
Midnight Guest
Pairing: Vampire!Law x Reader
NSFW
Summary: Your roommate is strange, you’ve always known that. Most of his habits seem like harmless eccentricities. His insistence that you lock your door when you sleep, due to his “sleepwalking,” confuses you more than anything. But when you forget one night and awaken to him standing over your bed, teeth bared, you start to think maybe there’s more to Law than meets the eye. Warnings: AFAB!Reader (no pronouns or gendered language used), Smut, Vampirism, Biting, Blood Drinking, Possessive/Obsessive Behavior, Vaginal Sex Word Count: 3.2k Halloween Special 2024
Your roommate was a strange man.
You had always known that, of course, from the moment you stepped foot into the house. It was old, built to be so beautiful and grand you could have confused it for a temple, a place of worship. And the rent he offered was far too good to be true. You couldn’t afford a studio for what he asked you to pay, let alone half of a gothic mansion to be shared with a mysterious and handsome man. There had to be something wrong with him, some reason he would give this offer to you of all people. He insisted it was just too big of a house to live in on his own, too lonely for one person. 
“I just…hate being alone,” he had admitted.
You didn’t believe that, not from someone as quiet as him.
You were extra sure he was strange when you had your first real conversation. He remained flat and reserved until you mentioned you had seen his comic collection, which made him light up like a Christmas tree. He told you about Sora, Warrior of the Sea for two hours after that, with a boyish enthusiasm you had never expected from a perpetually exhausted man covered in tattoos. It was cute, though he didn’t appreciate it when you pointed that out, cheeks growing pink and lips growing into what he would insist was not a pout. Yes, you had always known Law was strange, but in a fun way, the kind that brings more fond smiles than exasperation.
But some of his habits were starting to make you think he wasn’t quite as harmless as you had convinced yourself.
The first time you awoke with him standing over you, eyes flashing in the dark, you screamed. He had the nerve to jump back as well, as though you had scared him. Sleep walking, he had called it. You don’t know many people who sleepwalk with their eyes open and their teeth baring down on you. But he was so apologetic, you couldn’t help but let it slide.
“I’ve just been so tired from work lately,” he had admitted quietly, cheeks pink and voice tight with embarrassment. “That hasn’t happened since I was a kid. I’m sorry. I…don’t really know how to stop it, but I’ll try. Maybe I need to get more sleep.”
“I think you should,” you had agreed, dripping with good natured concern. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you look like you haven’t slept in years. I’ve been worried about you, honestly.”
He chuckled. “I appreciate it. Maybe I do need a bit more rest. But…maybe you should sleep with your door locked. Just in case I sleepwalk again. I wouldn’t want to give you such a rude awakening twice.” He had said something else, but frankly you were a little too focused on his hands flexing nervously, showing off his long, tattooed fingers, to catch whatever it was.
And since you had taken his advice, you hadn’t woken up to any more men lurking over your bed. You had, however, woken up to the jiggling of your door handle more than once. One time, you had even heard a knock echoing through the room, though he didn’t answer when you called out to ask him what he wanted.
You also couldn’t help but notice how empty the fridge and pantry were, or how little you saw him eat. He had a small snack here or there, but he seemed to subsist mostly on coffee and whatever he keeps in those tumblers he always has nearby. You had asked once, but he brushed it off, changing the subject not-so-subtly. You assumed they were protein shakes, or some other supplement he used to avoid having to sit down and enjoy a real meal. A lot of Law’s life seemed like he was actively trying to avoid living it. He had his hobbies and friends, of course, but any of the mundane pleasures of life, like eating, sleeping, or even human interaction outside of his chosen few people he avoided like the plague. He focused on his work, and anything else was either carefully penciled in or discarded entirely.
Every conversation you had about it was unproductive. He insisted he was fine, that this was just how he was, but there was always a tension around him, one you can’t help but think would disappear if he would only allow himself to live for once. But you can’t say that to him. How can you ask a man if he even enjoys being alive?
But tonight was the night you would learn your concerns were all for nothing, due only to a lack of information, and nothing more.
You try another conversation about your concerns when he wanders into the kitchen while you’re cleaning up. You know it won’t lead anywhere, but you have to try. “Do you think you’ve been sleeping better, Law?”
He hums noncommittally.
“...Have you actually been trying?”
“I’ve…had a lot to deal with.”
You frown, turning around to face him. “Has work not let up at all? You’ve been running yourself ragged for months.”
He avoids your eyes. “It’ll pass soon.”
“That’s what you said two months ago.” You reach across the counter for his hand, fingers brushing lightly against his, and he frantically pulls his hand back as though he’s been burned. You try not to show your hurt on your face, but from the guilt on his, you know you’ve failed. “I’m…I’m just worried about you. I feel like things have only gotten worse for you since I moved in. Maybe I should just–”
He jumps at that, quick to correct, to move you away from that train of thought as fast as he can. “No, no, that’s not true. And you shouldn’t do anything different. Having you around has been…this is the most alive the house has felt in years. I’m just tired, really.”
“You’re still sleepwalking.”
He tenses. “Am I?” Something about his tone is strange. He doesn’t seem like he’s surprised, or at least not surprised that he is. More surprised that you know.
“Yeah. You really didn’t start doing that until I moved in?”
“Well, no one would be able to tell me if I had.” He still isn’t looking at you.
You sigh. Even knowing how unproductive these talks are, it’s always a disappointment to learn he won’t open up to you. You honestly can’t figure out why he keeps you around. Your presence clearly stresses him out, even if he won’t admit it. “Just…try to get some rest, please. And eat a real meal for once. You’re a doctor, you should know how to take care of yourself.”
He finally looks at you again, self deprecation radiating from his tight smile. “Right. I’ll try.”
He won’t.
But you can. After you finish wiping down the counters, you get ready for a long night of sleep. No point in staying up worrying over things you can’t control. A long, warm shower and comfy pajamas are sure to fix your problems.
And they do, really, for the few hours you remain asleep.
But then you hear the door open.
No jiggling handle, no knocking, nothing. Just the quiet creak of the hinges, and footsteps approaching. You’ve barely opened your eyes before you can feel the bed start to shift, and you look up to see the same sight you did months ago: Law, eyes feral and needy, his mouth open, teeth looking particularly long and sharp in the moonlight. Before you can open your mouth, you can feel his body against yours, every inch of him stiff, his hands clutching your shoulders, his teeth growing closer and closer to your neck.
“Law?”
His eyes are still hazy, his mouth still approaching.
“Law!” You try to push his arms away, but you find you’re not strong enough to make him budge for even a moment. But the fear in your voice when you realize you’re about to feel his teeth against you makes him stop midair, his eyes focusing a little.
“Huh?” He looks down at you in his arms, staring up at him with wide, frightened eyes, and he throws himself back with a speed and strength you didn’t know he had. You can hear him slam against the wall behind him, knocking all of your wall decorations askew and making the wall make a concerning creak. He stares at you, arms out, as though something is pinning him down, and he looks absolutely beautiful bathed in the moonlight that sneaks through your curtains. His eyes are hungry, and you can see his canines peeking out from his lips, almost looking like fangs. He’s naked except for a pair of gray sweatpants, hair mussed and tattoos on full display.
“Law?” He stares at you, still torn between hunger and fear. As you shift to sit up, you can see his eyes flicker between your neck and your breasts, your pajamas giving him a clear view of your cleavage. Normally you would be embarrassed, but the tension in the air makes you forget your vulnerability for a moment. “Are you alright?”
“You forgot to lock your door,” he murmurs, voice thick and deep. He hasn’t looked away from you for even a moment, and he hasn’t moved an inch.
“You were going to bite me.”
He licks his lips, something he often does around you. You had always thought it was a nervous habit, but combined with the look in his eyes, you’re starting to suspect perhaps there’s another reason. “I told you to keep your door locked.” It sounds like speaking takes effort, and you notice his hands trembling slightly.
“Why were you going to bite me?”
“I need to leave,” he says, not moving, staring intently at your exposed skin. He’s breathing heavily. His canines seem to have grown even longer. “Or maybe you should leave.”
“You’re…you haven’t been sleepwalking at all. You’ve been trying to get in every night. To bite me. With your teeth.”
“I…have.”
“Are you…” You can’t bring yourself to say the word, even with all of the evidence in front of you. It feels unreal, so ridiculous you feel as though you’re watching someone else live through it all.
“Yes.”
“And you’re hungry?”
His chest is heaving with the effort of holding himself back. “Very.”
“And you asked me to live with you anyway?”
He forces his eyes closed, pushing his head back against the wall. “It wasn’t very smart of me. I…I knew I couldn’t let you leave the moment you walked through that door. I needed you to stay. You don’t know what it’s like. …I thought I would have more self control than this, really.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than you.
“Why couldn’t you let me leave?” You hate that your voice has a tinge of hope in it, like you aren’t in terrible danger, like your silly little crush on your roommate is more important than the very real threat he poses.
“You’re…you. And god, I need you.” He huffs out another breath. “You need to leave, really. Before I lose control.”
That should not have sent a shiver of excitement up your spine. “What if I didn’t?”
“Then I’d bite you.”
“And what if I wanted that?”
His eyes shoot open, and before you know it you’re pinned to the bed, a starving animal holding you down, every muscle in his body taut. “You…you shouldn’t…” He struggles to even get the words out, to keep up his good guy act when you can see the hunger in his eyes.
You lean up, exposing your neck fully, and just smile.
You’re pierced in a second.
The sensation is colder than you expected, and for a moment it really and truly feels like you’re going to die. Like you’ve made some horrible mistake for a pretty face and you’re going to pay the price for it. But before long, the ice in your veins fades away, leaving behind a pleasant warmth. It almost feels like you’re drunk, as your eyelids droop and an easy smile comes to your face.
You can feel every inch of Law pressed into you, from his warm tongue against your neck to his solid chest against yours and, most importantly, his hard and aching cock rutting against your thigh as he drinks. He hardly takes any time away from your neck, but whenever he does he’s panting, practically moaning against you. One of his hands goes to your chest, palming clumsily at your breasts, which easily spill out of your flimsy top. He looks down to see them, and groans from deep within his chest. “God, look at you.”
You try to respond, but in an instant he’s against your neck again, suckling, while his hand finds your nipple and pinches it between his fingers. You moan, far louder than you would ever admit, and your hips rut up into his. You can feel a wetness soaking easily through your pajama shorts, which he finds as well as he rubs against you, forcing the fabric between your folds and rubbing it against your clit. Your nails find his hair, gripping for dear life, and you hear him moan again. You can’t see them, but you can practically feel his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You try to speak again, to tell him to please fuck you, to complete the pleasure of the moment, but the only thing that leaves your lips is a pathetic cry of, “Law!”
He pulls himself back from your neck, lips dripping with your blood, staring at you ravenously. You fear he might swallow you whole. You fear you might enjoy that. His hand comes up, fingers gathering the blood dripping from his lips and chin. He maintains eye contact as he slowly and deliberately licks his fingers clean, refusing to waste even a drop of you. You clench your thighs together, which once again rubs the fabric against your clit just right, making you moan softly. His pupils blow out even further at the sound, his eyes nothing but inky blackness and desire.
You aren’t sure if it’s the warmth in your veins or your desire for Law that leaves you so pliable, so vulnerable underneath him. Either way, you find your thighs falling apart and your arms wrapping around him, begging him to take you. You whisper to him, “Please, Law, please. Finish what you’ve started. Have me.”
He leans down to clean the rest of the blood off of your neck with his tongue. “I want you,” he groans. “I have since the moment I saw you. God, you’re so delicious.” You feel his teeth graze against you again, desperate for a second taste. “You taste even better than I imagined, better than I dreamed.”
“You dreamed about me?”
“Every goddamn night. You’ve been haunting me.” He nips at your neck gently. “I couldn’t let you leave, no matter how much better it would be for you. I’m sick.”
You thrust your hips against his again, making his eyelids flutter and a soft choked noise escape his throat. “I’ve wanted you just as long.”
“I’ve never lost control over myself like this. You’ve done something to me.” He says it almost like an accusation.
You wrap your thighs around his waist in response, forcing your hips together again. “You’ve done something to me, too. I’d like you to finish it, if you don’t mind.”
He growls against your skin, something feral finally unleashing from him, and in one smooth motion he’s ripped off your pajama pants and underwear, leaving you bare and dripping for him. He thrusts into you in one smooth motion, making you nearly scream as your eyes roll back from the sensation. His pace is frantic, like if he stops for even a moment you’ll change your mind, or he’ll come to his senses, and it will all be over.
“Need you,” he mutters. “Need you to stay. Say you’ll stay.” There’s some deeper thread of desperation here, his voice pleading, nearly afraid. Like after all of this you’ll see him for what he is and leave him all alone in this house again, to be forgotten by time and left to rot.
“I’ll stay,” you moan. “I won’t leave you, Law.”
His hand finds your clit, a reward for giving him what he needed. His hands are as skilled as you had always hoped they would be, callused and moving exactly how you want them to. He makes you clench around him, ready to come undone so quickly under his attention. “You’re so alive,” he whispers. “So beautiful. And mine.”
“Yours, yes, yours!”
“Forever,” he insists.
“Forever!”
With your promise, his thrusts quicken, growing sloppy as he loses what little control he had left. His fingers and hips work frantically, bringing you to the edge easily, causing you to tighten around him as your vision goes white. At the same time, his teeth come down on your neck again, and he spills inside of you, filling you to the brim as he freely takes what he wants.
You’re panting, your heart pounding out of your chest, your blood flowing freely into Law’s waiting lips. Once he’s had his fill, he licks you clean again, before raising his head to look you in the eyes. “Forever?” He asks again.
“Forever,” you confirm.
He smiles. You watch as he bites his bottom lip, his fangs easily piercing the soft flesh, and he kisses you deeply and desperately. The taste of iron fills your mouth, at first repulsive but quickly growing into something sweet and irresistible. You lean further into him, sucking on his lip, taking whatever you can get, only stopping when he pulls back, pinning you down so you can’t chase his lips.
“Forever,” he whispers, tone filled with wonder. He kisses you again, tenderly, almost worshiping. “And you won’t have to spend a moment of it alone.”
You’re starting to grow unbearably hot, but even as you squirm, Law doesn’t allow you to move. He holds you there, under him, cock still inside of you. “Law, it’s hot. I need–”
“I know. It’ll pass.” He grins, teeth flashing dangerously in the light.
“What?” The haziness from blood loss and whatever endorphins came from a vampire’s bite start to wear off, and you start to tense. “What’ll pass?”
He doesn’t give you a straight answer. “It won’t hurt much, I promise.”
“Law, what did you do?”
He smiles, nuzzling you affectionately. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know. You won’t have to try to figure it all out alone. It’ll be the two of us, figuring it all out together. And we’ll have forever to do it.” He kisses you again as the heat overtakes you, turning swiftly from discomfort to pain.
But you’ll be alright, of course. Law is right there to walk you through it.
And he will be forever.
Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl
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rinnstars · 3 months ago
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just right!
you think youre too much for rin, and rin thinks hes too little for you
itoshi rin x reader: pre-rs, friends to lovers, mutual pining, angst w comfort, fluff at the end!!!!, not proofread + likes n reblogs are appreciated <3
its fate you think for things to remain the same with rin. after all, why wish for more? the hands that lay beside each other as you sit on the bench eating your lunch that seems to almost touch to start an electric shock that course through your body, the conversations that tiptoe the line between just friends to something much closer to soulmates the way yours and his brain seem to sync perfectly as one, the way the universe seem to put you two in the same orbit from going to the same school, to moving to the same neighbourhood, to sitting next to each other every class every semester - you should be satisfied, no you should be thankful for the luck that you must have gotten from finding a four-leaved clover the same day you met rin at the playground you think.
to anyone else, hell even to you, you two are no peas in the same pod. youre the polar opposite of him - you make friends easily like its second nature (but in your heart, they just don’t merge as well as you do with rin), you smile at every single thing, laughter bursting out of you without a single hesitation (but with rin, you think its your real laughter that flows out rather than out of politeness or awkwardness), you dress a little too eccentric with different and contrasting colours against the plain and boring uniform that seems out of place. and he’s the polar opposite of you - he practically hangs out with out because he has no one else (that makes you wonder if he’s just here because he has no one else), he has a resting frown on his face (that you think makes him even more adorable from the side of your peripheral vision), and he always wear that boring black bag that matches perfectly with the plain old school uniform.
sometimes you wonder if youre too much - you talk a little too much that you think his lips hide a grimace when it moves just a little from the frown that is always held tightly on his face, you ask too much, always wanting to hang out after school right before he has to run to football practice, you think too much, always asking questions that seem to make his face scrunch up in confusion during class or at the bench as you are right now. to anyone, this would be ideal right? its practically the dynamic being pushed in mangas and online - golden retriever with a black cat, that tiktok trend of okokok and lalala, yapper and listener dynamic. yet, you can’t help but to realise you two really don’t seem to belong in the same world - you long to stay here right in this neighbourhood that you practically memorised each and every store and their owners by heart, you long to just be another face in the crowd writing for the rest of your life but one that brightens and blooms others with your presence, and you long to live in a little cute house opposite that convenience store that you go to school everyday after school with rin, and you know he longs to spend his life overseas being a football stars, he longs to be the new football genius and prodigy in the entire world, and he longs to live anywhere but this town that seems a little too small for him. its ironic, you think, that your ambitions and personality are totally opposite, yet the world chose to put you and him right next to each other, even temporary.
and sooner or later you think, your feelings, that you know are too much for just another friend of yours, will burst - you might yell at him, hidden emotions kept away at the burning frustrations with each hint that lingers a little too long, you might cry and sob one day at one of your regular sleepover and become inconsolable as he realises that youre really too much, or one day you might really unconsciously confess your love for him and ruin this perfect dynamic that has already been served to you on a silver platter. and so you keep a lid on your feelings, you rather write and tear up papers in your room and clean up the mess before he comes over, you rather spend nights alone crying and cursing the world for not making you a little more like him so you could at least have the ambitions that rivals and chases after his, and you rather throw away countless of love letters that you wrote every valentine you spent with him. but for now, you’ll keep quiet, you’ll sit down here with your hands so close that you might just get a electric shock either way, you’ll eat your sandwich that matches with his, you’ll look at him with the same smile that he’s gotten used to as he chews on the sugary-sweet fruit sandwich that leaves a little white cream stain on his lips.
rin thinks that he really should thank whatever god there is out there as he sits here with you beside him, your hands so close to his that he practically has to physically hold himself back from moving a little closer until his and yours merge and fit perfectly like a puzzle piece, your unconcious hum that seem like music to his ears practically relieve him of all the stress that was unconsciously held even after mediation, right on the bench that is practically yours and his the way you and him come to eat here every lunch without any exceptions.
hes aware of lingering glances by his classmates on you and him - and he knows its judgemental and nothing kind to him. the whispers when you come to his table every time class ends as though on instincts whilst all he does is sit down there and do nothing but listen to you, the whispers when he sees you waiting at the library quietly before you brighten up when your eyes meet his, the whispers when you’re with him. maybe its insecurity, but he knows he’ll never be enough. he thinks youre better off with anyone but him - better off with your club members who understand your passion for writing and share with you their favourite writings compared to him who writes simply in order to one day move overseas as a professional football player, better off with your other classmates that actually pay attention in class unlike him who can better help you and do your homework with rather than sitting down at his table whilst he reads another football magazine, better off with even those guy classmates that he cant stand because of their loud voices because at least they seem to match your energy. even more, he thinks hes really a terrible friend, not even considering his crush on you, when he hears you chat about something excitedly only to trail off whenever youre with him, when he feels you pull yourself a little too fast from the hug you initiate compared to anyone else, when he knows youre terrified to say something but he can do nothing but stay here.
on some days, he wonders if you’ll eventually leave him too. he knows its for the better - you’ll get to know other people that can actually care and love you the way he knows he can’t with how bad he is at expressing himself, you’ll get to chat and talk someone’s ears off much happily without any judgement the way that you seem to be unable to do so with him, you’ll no longer have to hold your own personality back anymore. but deep down, he doesn’t want that. he doesn’t want to be left behind again - alone on the park bench with a ghost of you as he bites into the now bitter-sweet fruit sandwich that he deep down doesn’t really like but eats for you, alone on the table as you move about excitedly all cheerily to talk to anyone but him the one beside you, alone in his room having to play horror games all alone listen to the playlist he made for you all alone. now that he knows what it feels like to have someone, he doesn’t want to be alone anymore especially after he finds out how deep it can hurt - feeling as though his corpse sometimes still lay in the winter snow right where his brother left him.
and as he feels the red strings around yours and his finger pull harder and harder as though youre about to run away, he slowly feels more desperate to hold onto whatever little of this relationship is left. he knows logically, all friendships comes to an end, but he has always defied whatever the universe has set up for him - holding onto an impossible and thrown away dream of being better than his genius of an older brother, holding onto am faraway dream of being the world’s best striker right by his brother side and now holding onto a crumbling dream of staying right beside you for the rest of his life. he knows hes too little, and he knows there’s someone else better in this world than yours, after all youre only teenagers and nothing more than that could come out it. he knows he cant give you the world that you deserve, cant give you everything you want right now or maybe even in the future, but hes selfish. and of course its on another boring school day he gets this realisation, when he sees you peek at him without a word, as though you two are no longer in the same orbit anymore.
“you said you had something to tell me right?” a conversation starter, he tries, even though he normally doesn’t start the conversation, and he knows its still not enough, it’ll never be enough in his eyes.
“um… right… i..” and god, did you curse yourself. making it awkward, overthinking it - was that stuttering too much? did it annoy him?
its silence that follows afterwards - you don’t want to be too much to just confess your feelings, its just another day to him and you wouldn’t want to ruin it all selfishly. and in contrast, he no longer wants to be too little, he grips onto the plastic that leaves a little cream stain on his fingers.
“you know.. you can tell me anything.” and god, now he thinks he sounds pathetic and desperate, but your expression doesn’t seem to change from that expression that doesn’t suit your face at all - in contrast to the cheery expression you should always be sporting, you’re biting your lips nervously as though you two are in an examination room instead of at the park bench as per usual. has he messed up?
“i.. wait.. don’t freak out first.. promise?” an warning - because you know once you say it, there’s no going back. a risk you should take, a risk that you’ve seen taken right below this tree too ironically by classmates who profess their immature and yet undying love to their partners. would you be too much? you think ruin has rubbed off you a little too much when your mind tells no yells at you to be a little more selfish.
“promise.” he thinks he sees you smile a little, and he thinks hes gone back to his childhood where you and him first met - making a pinkie promise after you two fell down together to always stay together because it was fate to meet as you both fell down from the parkour part of the playground.
“.. i like you. a lot.” and of course youre too much, youre just a little too dramatic to add the additional bit that seems to slip off your tongue so naturally with countless of practice and failed attempts in front of your mirror in your room before collapsing on your bed kicking your feet and yelling against your pillow.
“i like you too. romantically.” and he thinks hes too little, such an anticlimactic return of love in contrast to all the love mangas you’ve talked to him about - no flowers, no necklaces, no nothing in his hand. but he sees your face bloom into a flower like as you grin, he thinks its alright.
you think youre too much and he thinks hes too little - but together, you’ll be just enough for each other - you both think, your hands and his moving together as electricity flows through yours and his body as though its the world way of telling you that both of you are made for each other, your face and his linger so close before finally you two cross the line as your lips merge with his perfectly as though you two are truly soulmates, and you think perhaps that the two four-leave clovers wasn’t just for you two to be friends for the rest of your life but something more as you tie it to his and yours wrist all those years back, it brushing against each other.
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yandere-wishes · 4 days ago
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✮⋆˙Red Hood and The Big Bad Wolf ˙⋆✮
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⭒⌒★ Yandere! Jason Todd x Reader ★⌒⭒
゜。♡ 𝓕𝓪𝓲𝓻𝔂 𝓣𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓐𝓤 ♡ 。 ゜
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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:・
*ੈ✩‧₊ Thinking about how similar Red Hood is to Little Red Riding Hood, not just in name but also in practice. At their core, they are both things, red things, that survive. Reborn from the lugubre maws of death, forced to live another day, carrying baskets weaved of anguish and instability.
*ੈ✩‧₊ Jason keeps the old picture book tucked in his jacket pocket. He can't quite remember where he found the fickle thing. Can't remember why he chose such an evanescent tale to cling to.
*ੈ✩‧₊ Or maybe he does, maybe he knows exactly why he runs his fingers over his inside pocket after every fight, just to make sure the eccentric fable is still in place. Maybe it's because he understands Red Riding Hood. Knows what she's been through, what it feels like to have your innocence stripped like skin being torn from bones. To be killed and revived all in the same breath. Maybe it's because he wants to know what happens next. What happens when Little Red learns to breathe again? He wants to ask her, beg her to tell him. To be the solution to all his problems.
*ੈ✩‧₊ "How do you swallow the trauma? What do you do with the phantom pain of your heart's reanimation? How do you make the darkness go away? Did you come back the same?
*ੈ✩‧��� There is only one thing that makes them differ. One fundamental little thing...
*ੈ✩‧₊ Jason doesn't mind the wolf. Pretty pup prowling about. He blames it on his upbringing. He'd been taught to fall in love with such wicked things. From as early as he can remember he's watched bats chase cats across gargoyle-littered rooftops. Watched pretty girls throw themselves at bleached killers. That's why he's quick to be enarmed with the new villain terrorizing the Gotham streets. The girl in a wolf mask, planting bombs in jewelry stores and biting off her victim's ears.
*ੈ✩‧₊ There is nothing scary about the big bad wolf, Red Hood thinks, as he re-reads the page where the wolf and girl meet. Why fear pain when you've been to the end of the road? Why fear something when you're acquainted with its ending?
*ੈ✩‧₊ "Shouldn't wolves only come out when there's a full moon?" He swings in from the skyline, ironclad military boots lodging into your stomach pushing you back into a glass display case. "That's werewolves you idiot" you mumble out of breath, glass shards pocking at your spine. The ticking of your newest explosive rings melodically through the air. He's quick to cut the wires, to defuse your toy without a second thought. Professional you think bitterly as you pounce on his back looking for an opening of flesh to sink your teeth into.
*ੈ✩‧₊ The thing they don't tell you about dying is that you always come back wrong. Primordially, spiritually, the person who closes their eyes, is never the same one who opens them again.
But Red Riding Hood was lucky, her story ended before she realized that dreadful thing. Jason has to deal with it every day, the reverberating scars, the colorless world that fractures and breaks should he let his mind wander astray. The fact that his heart only ever truly beats when he sees the fluffy ears of your cowl and that damn bloodthirsty smirk.
*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason Todd who's only brave enough to call it love after you stake a knife through his heart. The bulletproof vest and armor keep the damage away, but he can see the murderous intent shimmering in your eyes. It's only then that he pulls you down by the back of your neck. Lips to lips, a messy clash of anathema and apprehension. Your teeth gnaw at his lips while his tongue composes ballads on the roof of your mouth.
*ੈ✩‧₊ He wonders if Little Red ever went back for the wolf. If she ever dares kiss him with all the pain and anguish she has left in her body. Nicking her tongue on his razor-sharp teeth. Guiding his claws to ghost over her frail body. He wonders if the wolf can even hurt her. There's so little left that can hurt you when you've already felt the end.
*ੈ✩‧₊ He knows you stalk him, follow him even during the day. Sometimes he pulls you into the back alleyway. Knife at your throat as he soaks up your ethereal face. Mask on, mask off. In the end, you'd have found out anyway. His hands squeeze at your hips, needing the flesh, leaving his essence over your body. His lips danced over the back of your neck, biting tenderly at the apex of your shoulder.
*ੈ✩‧₊ You seem to like it when his knife cuts deep. When his punches crack bone. When his boots crush you into the pavement. You throw your head back and laugh, witty little threats spilling from your mouth. So this is love he thinks as your claws rake over his biceps ripping the muscle like ribbons, rummaging through the blood and tissue in search of bone. "Poor little puppy" he mocks "looking for a bone to chew on". "Shut up you tomato-looking freak" you scream as his teeth sink into your jaw, crunching of bone.
*ੈ✩‧₊ He thinks you look gorgeous when you're irritated, he thinks you're beautiful when your bloodthirst seeps through the anger. He bites back a moan as your knee nests into his gut.
*ੈ✩‧₊ Did Little Red ever talk to her mother again? Or did she hold a grudge, haunted by her betrayal of sending her into the woods unarmed, heartbroken that she never came looking for her? Jason's thoughts pound inside his head, picture-book illustrations flash before him of Little Red pushing her mother away, of tears streaming down her face, screaming, screaming, screaming. He hisses as his lacerations burn. Hand suspended, pushing down the urge to knock on his father's door. Bruce would know what to do...he always knows what to do. It's such a childish notion, he clings to. Even now, even after he was killed and left un-avenged Jason still wholeheartedly believes in the notion that Daddy will fix everything...He's halfway to the entrance gate when Bruce alls after him, cadence thick with grief and ache. Jason doesn't turn back, he runs and runs and runs.
*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who crashes through your apartment window. Pushes you back onto the bed and lies next to you as you squirm and scream. He wraps his arms protectively around your waist and nuzzles into the crux of your neck. Mumbling Little Red Riding Hood's tale until you fall asleep. "How did You know I love the story?" you ask, the next morning to the empty half of your bed. Last night's tremulous dread still laying heavy on your corpse.
*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who lays on his window seal, watching as the sun pokes through Granny Red's face. It's funny isn't it, in such a twisted way didn't he also die in his grandfather's house? Only to be reborn while he watched? Didn't the same thing happen to Little Red?
*ੈ✩‧₊ That night Jason dream he's was walking through the grass, headed for the forest behind Wayne manner. He's trapped inside his jejune body, the body of a boy wonder. Clutching a basket with a crowbar inside as dread dances in his stomach. His old red cape taut around his neck, suffocating, skin-tight. He's forgotten how to breathe, puerile fear of those ghoulish old trees clawing at his body. Through the dimness, through lose rays that escape the moon's greed he's able to spot you. Weaving through the bushes and trees, stalking closer and closer. He doesn't know whether to meet you halfway or retreat. Frozen like a robin being pounced on by a sickly smiling cat. His eyes meet yours, right before you attack.
*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who misses you, when he doesn't catch you on patrol, of course, he misses you, it's hard not to miss a broken bone. Hard to feel the sting of your wounds and forget who put them there.
*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason finally realizes that he just can't bear to be away from you. This love, this mania, it's all for you. He needs you. He's got you corned, the end of a chase. You smile, all teeth and games, "You're pretty when sulk" you whisper, tracing claws up his chest, digging into the space between each ridge. "Oh really? How can you tell when I got this helmet on?" You laugh, coy and flirtish "I just do" you shrug. Pulling his helmet up, lips ghosting over his in a mockery of a kiss. Jason pushes forward, entraping your lips against his. Lost in intimacy he's quick to grab you, to drag you back to his apartment, to lock the doors and throw away the key. To keep the big bad wolf where she belongs, right next to Little Red Riding Hood.
   
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🎀I feel like every Batson deserves a villainess to fall in love with. Let's call this one WolfWoman. TBH I feel like I want to write more for her in the future.
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cultven · 5 months ago
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can i get a Deadpool x reader x wolverine where reader is making them watch asmr with them at bedtime :3
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ASMR Cuddles
Deadpool X Reader X Wolverine
Content: Some cursing, Wade being a yapper as always, Grumpy Logan, Fluff, Cuddles, Slime!!, Small Blind Al content
Word Count: 827
Warnings: None
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a/n: This request was just too funny not to write, just thinking about these two men and their different reactions. Wrote this super fast on a whim so hopefully it's ok! Short and sweet :)
“Hurry!” You whined, getting all cozy. This has become a daily routine with the three of you, you get comfy in bed while the other two men stall sleeping. Little did other people know, Wade and Logan were huge insomniacs. Perhaps it came with the profession of being a superhero, you didn’t know, but you were determined to help soothe their minds into sleep. The first tactic that came to your mind? Asmr. 
You had the perfect setup. Bunches of pillows to support your heads and backs into a half-sitting position, mountains of blankets to keep you all warm and comfortable, and finally your laptop at full charge ready to go. Now all you needed was your eccentric and grumpy boys. “Wade hurry up!” You groaned as Logan stepped into the room, finally in his sleeping clothes. 
“Hold on baby girl, I’m doing my skincare routine!” Wade yelled from the other side of the apartment. 
“Why? It’s obviously not doing anything for you.” Logan retorted with a smile as you playfully hit his arm. He just grinned wider at your scolding as you heard one more knock on the walls. 
“Keep it down, fuckers! Some people in this place like to sleep!” Blind Al shouted from her room, which was only a few thin walls away. 
“Sorry, Al!” You apologized, sending Logan a look to shut it. He only rolled his eyes as he crawled into bed next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders. As he got himself comfortable, Wade burst through the door with a smile, two shirts in hand. 
“Ok, be honest. Which shirt is more ASMR-y? Pink with rainbows,” He held up a hot pink t-shirt to his chest. “Or, yellow with the X-men logo?” Wade’s arm lifted the other shirt, which was just some old X-men merch he stole from Colossus not too long ago. 
“Asshole it doesn’t matter, let's go.” Logan groaned, blankly looking at the two options. 
“I like the pink Wade.” You said with a smile, watching him put the shirt on and patting the seat next to you. Finally, the three of you get comfortable, Wade on your left and Logan on the right. With the way you three were situated, it almost felt like a puzzle. 
“So, what do you want us to watch exactly?” Logan questions, eyeing the videos you’re scrolling past. 
“It’s videos that make funny noises! They’re supposed to relax you and help you sleep. It even makes some people tingle.” You respond, smiling a bit at the man before resuming your search for the perfect video. 
“What kind of tingles exactly?” Wade smirked at your side. Before he could wait for an answer he hastily pointed at a video on your laptop. “Oh! Let’s do that one! Slime.” Sure enough, that was the video you put on. Within the first two minutes, Wade was completely enthralled, commenting on every little thing. 
“What kind of slime is that?”
“Fluffy, dear.”
“How does it sound so delicious?”
“Beads!”
“Where can I find the things to buy this?”
While Wade was now distracted on Amazon buying the various ingredients for slime, Logan was not so impressed. You could tell the only reason he was currently staying in bed was for the free cuddles. The slime clearly was not of his taste. 
“Logan, do you want to try a different video?” You offered, determined to make the man sleepy through ASMR at any cost. Slime probably wasn’t the best fit for sleep time, not only because of Logan’s disinterest but it only seemed to rile up Wade more as he was currently talking your ear off about all the things he bought for his upcoming slime creations. 
“Eh, no offense bub, but I don’t think any of these videos are gonna do it for me.” You felt bad, you needed to find something that would soothe Logan, and you knew just the genre. 
“How about some general tapping ASMR?” You hastily typed the words into YouTube, much to Wade’s dismay. You found the perfect video, turning up the volume ever so slightly and allowing the ASMR to do its thing. Five minutes into the video you felt sleepy yourself, before realizing that the last few minutes have been in complete silence, which was strange when you lived with Wade Wilson. Turning to both your sides you see Wade completely asleep and Logan fighting for his consciousness. 
“This one good, bub’?” You whisper to Logan, teasing him slightly. 
With your words knocking him out of his trance, all Logan could think to say was, “Shut up.” Before returning to the video, his arm still wrapped around you. Within ten minutes the three of you were out cold, a mess of limbs all sewn together with soft tapping in the background. For the first time in years, Wade and Logan were able to get a good night's sleep and all it required was some cuddles and ASMR. 
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Text
Perhaps the wilderness in Yellowjackets is not just a symbol of death. Perhaps it is also—in its own way—freedom.
In the wilderness, Lottie didn’t have to hide her visions for fear of being called crazy. She was exalted as a leader and a prophet. But when she returned, they called her crazy and locked her up.
In the wilderness, Misty didn’t have to be ashamed of her intensity and eccentricity. She was helpful, she was needed, she was important. But when she returned, they called her a freak and exiled her once again.
In the wilderness, Tai didn’t have to pretend to be something she’s not. Her other self was not a weakness but a strength, it gave her power, and kept her alive. But when she returned she had to suppress her urges and hide her other self, or lose everything.
In the wilderness, Shauna didn’t have to be small, and hide the fire inside her. She was angry, and violent, and powerful. But when she returned, she was forced back into a supporting role, forced to contain her darkness and her drive in order to fit a role she never wanted to play.
In the wilderness, Travis didn’t have to put on an act to fit the societal expectations of masculinity. He was feminine, and emotional, and soft—not the man of the group, but just another Yellowjacket in the hive. But when he returned, he was forced back into the cage—back into the closet—isolated, hardened, closed off and separated from the girls once more.
In the wilderness, Natalie didn’t have to feel guilty for surviving. She was the hunter, the provider, and the gun in her hands made her a savior, and a leader, not a killer. But when she returned, she was a killer once again, haunted by guilt, and outcast by society for the things she did to stay alive.
The wilderness gave them the freedom to be their truest and most authentic selves, but the cost was the blood spilled. The cost was their old selves. The cost was a place in the world upon their return.
Maybe the wilderness did not destroy them; it simply changed them into something new, something irrevocably different, something that would never—could never—fit back inside the narrow box of their old lives, and because they could no longer fit, society called them broken.
The wilderness freed them, but it never let them go. Because once you’ve tasted flesh and blood, once you’ve stared death in the face and overcame, once you’ve been to the very brink and seen the true depth of your own capacity for violence, once all the former markers of morality and success have become meaningless, in a world where survival at all costs is the only law, how can you ever go back to a world ruled by pointless, hollow, conventions? Once you’ve shed every remnant of your humanity, once you’ve run with the wolves, and howled at the moon, and become one with the ancient wild gods, how can you ever be a human again? Once you’ve had a taste of complete freedom, how can you ever be satisfied with a fake, insignificant, half-life, made up entirely of half-truths and haunting?
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astrow1zar6 · 1 year ago
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Astrology Observations- 013
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I notice Cap Mercurys think so maturely even from such a very young age. These were those kids that always wanted to hang around people older than them. They are old souls at heart and sometimes it’s harder for them to connect with more childlike energies. People their age can see them as boring because of their serious demeanor.
Leo Risings never like to show the sides to them that make them look bad in anyway. These people have big egos so any assumption from others that they aren’t anything but great can take a big toll on their self esteem. They come off so confident but most are really insecure & don’t think they are interesting so they tend exaggerate a lot of facts about them to keep people thinking they are really interesting and amazing. (U guys don’t need ti do that people already think you are before you even speak)
Capricorn risings always look so annoyed when people are speaking to them. Most of the time they are. They have very honest expressions and when someone says something stupid or uninteresting they are more willing to show their uninterested while most are just willing to smile and take it out of being polite. This is why they can come off as rude or snobbish but really the just don’t have time for bullshit. (I definitely think Wednesday Addams has this placement) many don’t know they are being rude but most don’t have the energy to be fake if they really don’t like what the others saying. Very Real people many mistake them for being Scorpio risings.
Venus in Scorpios were probably shamed a lot for their their sex appeal/drives. I notice these people have a very provocative vibe to them that causes a lot of ppl to sexualize them ( especially the women). I’ve seen women with this placement be virgins and still get slut shamed. People always assume they sleep with mad people even if it’s not true.
Moon in 5th housers are actually very secretive about their talents. A lot are so talented but most tend to keep their hobbies and interests to themselves unless they really trust you.
When someone with Venus in the 7th house likes you they will talk about their future a lot with you. This one guy had a big crush on me and would always joke about getting married and starting a life someday ( he made it sound as a joke but in a way I can tell he meant it). Also can be obsessed with weddings. I have a friend with this placement who says she’ll only wanna get married to experience having her dream wedding lol
Venus in 2nd house women always have people buying them things bro. They don’t even have to ask and men will be buying them expensive gifts or paying for their food or trips. Definition of pretty privilege.
Mars in Aquarius like very eccentric things in bed. It’s almost like they enjoy the opposite of what should be expected in bed. Like the women would like to take normally the male role in bed and vice versa a man with this placement could like a very submissive role. The weirder and more out of place the more turned on they get. Can also be really experimental they are willing to try anything once even if it’s outlandish.
Mars in Aries are usually natural athletes. They have amazing endurance and can become pros faster than most.
Virgo moons usually have bad stomach problems or eating disorders. They are also always giving unsolicited advice no one asked for. They feel this need to solve everything but it can come off as kinda judgmental.
Mars in Pisces are usually victims to bullying. They usually have a hard time asserting themselves and standing up so they get pushed around a lot easier by stronger more dominant energies.
Cap moons are always in denial of their feelings
Mars Square Venus synastry can be really awkward at times in a friendship. Theres this bizarre sexual and touchy tension usually that both aren’t fully comfortable with. The mars person can come off a little too strong and can treat the Venus as if they own them. This attraction can be one sided sometimes with the mars person wanting the Venus and the Venus getting repulsed and distancing themselves. I’ve seen the mars person get jealous if the Venus would hang out with others whether it be other friends or family. And if the Venus is dating someone else this can get really heated on the mars end. Venus will feel the attraction but I notice it’s not as strong.
Venus in 5th house synastry is soooooo flirty. These are those cheesy cringey couples that are always acting like little kids around eachother. It’s actually a really sweet placement. This person will be able to bring out your inner child.
Venus in Libras are always crushing on someone. They jump into relationships I think faster than people with Venus in Aries the only difference is that they can maintain longer term partnerships & don’t bore as quick (even if their feelings are a little superficial). They just don’t know what to do with themselves when they are alone.
Scorpio risings I notice get really strong reactions out of people (like Lilith/asc people) their words make others blood boil even if they really don’t say anything offensive or rude. Most people are jealous of their authenticity which is why a lot of Scorpio risings are quiet and not as willing to open up. People just hate on them so intensely for the littlest things. They also have this ability to know if people are genuine or not which can be intrusive to certain people causing intense reactions. They can see thru everyone’s mask which can make other feel uncomfortable to be around them. This is why they usually have few friends and the friends they do have are as authentic as themselves. Literal human lie detectors
Men that have a water sun with a water moon are BIG SIMPS
Cancer sun women will be passively rude to you if they don’t like you or are jealous of you. They won’t straight say it but they will say little comments in a nice way that’s actually really rude. Then usually play victim if confronted
Everyone’s crush in high-school was either a Scorpio sun or a Libra sun/rising. Tell me I’m lying
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brujaluas · 3 months ago
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What will your reputation be like in the future?
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Now, at the present moment, you may be going through many things, from the present moment to the future where people will see your reputation, it will be like this, from now on you can face many things, it will be a blessed path but at the same time quite sacrificial, you will study a lot, work a lot, spend days and days on this, losing sleep with ideas, with planning, with studies, with work, distancing yourself and not even communicating with people close to you anymore and instead having connections with people far away, networking, and all your effort will bear fruit. Your reputation will be interesting. People will see you as a hard-working person who deserved everything you got. If you receive recognition, whether through college, work, fame, I don't know, some way of showing it, people will see it and think that you deserved it, that you suffered a lot to build your own path and that you deserve it. You will have many connections that people will also recognize as the work you did. You have a very bright energy. People recognize your efforts and think your work is beautiful. Your recognition is brilliant.
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You will have an intense and peculiar beginning, very eccentric. It's as if there are many people around you and they are people with very bad energy, low vibration. It may also be the case of having a lot of competition in an environment and this makes everything very strange, but you will become a leader and lead everything and all these people. If a group planned to harm you in some way, fly away and turn it around and when they see it, it will be too late because you have taken the reins of the situation and are giving the orders. You may be leaving a toxic environment or a toxic relationship with someone and you are in a hurry about it. It reminds me of a very special song for me, by Florence called Dog Days Are Over. It gave space for your liberation. You led, but this also cost me a lot of wear and tear on your part and you want to get out of it as quickly as possible and you will. Wow, you're going to have an intensely beautiful turning point, it's like you've entered another world, something as bright and sweet, refreshing and calm as a summer breeze in Italy. You will be part of a very interesting process that you really want to be a part of. You can build something, some may have a restaurant, you will recover your roots and energies and rescue a self that you didn't even think existed anymore or a self from past lives. I've talked a lot, but I had to do, apologize. Your reputation will be controversial. Some people will initially find you very clayey, aggressive, stormy, but you will have a change and many people, let me explain, it's as if in one place you were seen that way, and you will literally have a change of place and in this other place people will see you as someone at peace, kind, hard-working, you are the kind of person that people gather at home with on the weekends with children and pets.
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Your destiny may be to be recognized by your family. You may have a beautiful family, the kind we dream of having, lots of children. Your reputation is that of someone who never seems to be alone, always doing something with someone. If you don't want to have children, I imagine you as Santa Claus, a kind and sweet person who likes to see good people like children happy. You can work with children, and they will feel comfortable with you, just like we like the good old man, Santa Claus. You may feel overwhelmed with so much energy and may at some point be far away. People will miss you, but you will withdraw for a while and be in the company of just one person, it could be your best friend, sibling or spouse. People see you as someone very romantic, affectionate, a very sweet brotherly figure that people like to have the attention of nurturing by your side, confortable, you give a lot of comfort for people.
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