#there's a lot of interesting things I'm leaving out of course

[fkevin073]

take me like you do in your dreams (excerpt)

so this is a little Mel/Frank thing I've been working on. it's been so long since I wrote a long one-shot and did not get impatient and divide it into chapters so I'm trying to curb that urge by posting a little bit of it hear. so much more to go!!

Summary: It surprises people to learn that Mel King is good at sex.  People in this case being, of course, Frank Langon. 

It starts, of course, on a Tuesday, because everything in his life seems to go to shit on Tuesday’s. The shift from hell was a random Tuesday. Abby told him to fuck off out of their house on a Tuesday, he started rehab on a Tuesday and left on a Tuesday. He even fucked up his back on a Tuesday. 

Frank forgets, every so often, about this random pattern in his life. Enough good things will happen, or he’ll be lost in the rush of kids, dogs and work that his world will seem stable and then something fucked will happen and he’ll remember like a punch to a chest this phenomena and think I must have murdered a bunch of people in my past life on a Tuesday to get all of this fucking karma. 

What happens is this: 

Frank doesn’t have many friends. He used to in college, even in med school, and then the more pills he popped the worse his emotions seemed to be and the more he rotted on the inside the more people could sense it, even if they couldn’t quite put a finger on what his deal is. 

That, and he’s also an asshole. 

The point is, he doesn’t have many people. After the pills, after the divorce, after moving into an embarrassing two-bedroom apartment that screams of divorced dad vibes with enough furniture to make it functional but not enough to make it feel like a home. 

He’d like to think that after all the shit he’s been through the past year he’s started to appreciate the people in his life a lot more. Cared more for their happiness and wanting to do right by them. It’s all part of his 12 steps and all that bullshit. 

But then one day he looks across the Pitt and sees Mel bent over a patient, some young dude with floppy blonde hair and an easy smile, and he’s saying something that makes her laugh, that nice floaty laugh like she’s about to glide through the clouds, a laugh Frank thought he had dibs on, and he’s staring so intently Dana has to clap her hands three times before he looks away with a jump. 

“Got an interesting case in South 2,” she says, looking at him weirdly. “You want in?” 

“Yeah,” he says, trying not to look at Mel. “Yeah, sounds great.” 

Blonde fucker, he thinks later, as he tries to remove a dart from this bartender’s ass. He keeps thinking about Mel laughing, even though he didn’t get to see her face. Maybe she was just being polite. Mel is always polite, even when she’s telling someone off. He remembers one time where she lost her temper at Santos – as close as losing her temper as Mel has ever gotten to the best of his knowledge – and told her to please not speak to me for the remainder of the day as I’ll only say something I regret, which I don’t want to do for when you feel bad about this later and Santos had seemed guilty enough for once  that she shut up and did as she was told. 

She was just being polite, he tells himself. But he’s not quite sure why it would bother him either way. It’s just that Mel is one of the few good things he has in his life. He can admit that to himself, if not to anyone else, including of his several mandated therapists or the fucktonne of NA meetings he’s forced to go to. 

Mel had visited him in rehab, which no one else from work had done besides Robby, who Frank had refused to see. They gave him that luxury in rehab – deciding who he did and did not have to leave his room to go and speak to from the outside visitors. Robby had never come back again, but he’d been surprised enough when he heard Mel’s name that he went, quite numb and blank faced, and found her sitting there with a myriad of candies. 

“I wasn’t sure what kind you liked,” was the first thing she said to him. “So, I got a lot.” 

And it was so normal, so earnest, that he almost burst into tears right then and there. 

“I’m a KitKat guy,” he’d grinned instead, when he was certain he wouldn’t cry. 

They’d sat there for the full fucking hour, talking about their favourite candies and desserts. She went on a fifteen-minute-long tangent about how she used to suck on so many gumballs that her tongue used to change colour every day. 

“I tried to make it into a schedule,” she’d told him. “Blue on Wednesday, yellow on Sunday, that kind of thing. Purple on Monday’s were my favourite.” 

“Any reason for the schedule?” He’d been smiling as he asked it. He could only imagine a little Mel with her mouth full of fucking gumballs, her tongue changing to one outrageous colour every day. 

“I was reading about colour theory at the time,” she admitted enthusiastically. “Henri Matisse, that kind of thing.” 

“How old were you again?” 

“Around ten or so.” 

Frank had laughed, because of course he had. Of course, she’d be the kind of ten year old to read about Henri fucking Matisse, which he only knew about because Abby had minored in Art History at college and liked to drag him to art exhibitions before they’d had the twins. 

Mel had apologized after a few minutes for rambling, but Frank had assured her it was fine. In fact he was the one who felt guilty, not just for being a regular ole fuckup who landed himself in rehab, but because he suddenly remembered all the times she had begun to ramble during the shift from hell and he’d just walked away like a dickhead. 

But she hadn’t held it against him. 

Before she left when the visiting hour was done, he’d been so overwhelmed that he’d reached down and hugged her without asking, which was shitty. She’d stiffened but let him, as if sensing that he needed it. 

“Sorry,” he’d told her, wiping his eyes. She was kind enough not to comment. 

“It’s okay,” she’d replied, a little awkward. Her arms were still stuck half-out from the hug, like she was a robot and needed someone to force her arms back down. “I’m trying to become better with physical affection.” 

Mel hadn’t made it back to visit him again, as his program was only for thirty days and she had a life outside of him, but on his first day back he found a KitKat taped to his locker. Mel had already finished her shift, so he couldn’t thank her in person. But he kept the chocolate bar in his pocket and would reach for it whenever someone would look at him sideways, frowning whenever he prescribed some form of medication that couldn’t even get someone high, not that it mattered much to anyone. 

He only finished eating the KitKat when he made it back to his car. It was half-melted and kind of mushy, but he still cried a bit anyway.

But yes, Mel is an important part of his life now. Since getting out of rehab, he spends most of his time with her outside of work, when he doesn’t have his kids. She can do better than a blonde fucker fratboy, he thinks rather viciously. 

He wiggles the dart out of the patient’s butt. 

“No offence, dude,” the patient drawls, sleepy with anesthetic. “But I really don’t trust you holding that with that look on your face.” 

Well, fuck. 

-

Mel finds Langdon in the breakroom, sitting on the floor. There’s no dog to pet this time, but he seems content enough. She goes to the fridge and finds her water bottle. Langdon had gotten this one for her birthday. Stainless steel that she could put in the dishwasher without it melting or affecting the taste. 

She’d complained to him once about how she hated the taste of plastic in her water. She kept on rotating between different containers – wasteful, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. One time in med school she couldn’t get the taste of something sweet out of her water bottle no matter how hard she scrubbed and so she threw it out and didn’t have time to buy a new one because she spent an allnighter on campus and then she fainted in the cadaver lab from dehydration. It’s why she had a small little scar at the nape of her neck, which Langdon had asked her about once when she was pulling her hair into a ponytail at the end of her shift.

She meets Langdon on the floor, and he smiles that little-half smile of his when he’s thinking about something. 

“Is that a dart?” she asks, nodding towards the object in his hand. She takes a long cold sip of water. That was another reason why she loved this one so much – it kept the temperature just right. Not too cold and not too warm either. Becca loved hers too. (Langdon had gotten a matching set). The nurses at the care center told her it made keeping Becca hydrated much easier, because her sister only liked to drink certain liquids at certain times. No water before 8am and no fizzy drinks between 5pm to 7pm for some reason only Becca seemed to know. 

“Patient let me keep it. A souvenir from his ass.” 

“That sounds uncomfortable.” 

Langdon chuckles lightly. “Yeah, apparently an ex-girlfriend of his showed up to the bar and saw him flirting with the coworker he told her not to worry about and went a little nuts.” 

Mel tries to imagine throwing darts at someone in anger and shivers. “Infidelity is no excuse for violence,” she says lamely. She feels Langdon look at her. 

“You okay?” he questions measuredly. 

“I feel well,” she replies. 

“Well?” 

“Fine. Adequate. Suboptimal. Sufficient—” 

“Okay, okay, I got it Miss Encyclopedia.” 

“I think you mean Miss Dictionary,” Mel corrects, pushing her glasses further up her nose. “That better suits the purpose of your reference.” 

Langdon laughs again, wiping a hand over his face. “You’re spicy today.” 

“Spicy?” Mel frowns deeply. “I had wasabi with my sushi a few nights ago, but—” She stops. “Ah. A joke.” 

“Yes, I do tend to make those.” Langdon nudges her leg with his foot. “I missed sushi night?” 

“Sorry,” she apologizes sincerely. “Becca was having a bad day, and I thought it would be better if we were alone. We’re having Pizza Sunday though, if you want to come.” 

“What show are you watching this time?” 

It’s been over a week since Langdon joined them. His ex-wife got down with a bad cold for several days, so he had the twins all to himself. Mel had driven him to their school once, where he apparently liked to take them for ice cream at the truck nearby. She hadn’t joined for that. Last time he was with her and Becca, they’d been finishing up their rewatch of The Vampire Diaries, but only until the end of season 6, because Becca hated it after Elena left the show. 

Langdon had been intensely into the love-triangle of it all. Becca liked to wear her Damon Salvatore t-shirt as they watched. 

“Blue-eyed boy team,” Langdon had joked, reaching out to Becca for a high-five. Becca had cackled, wheezing with laughter. Mel could appreciate the resemblance. She’d always hated them on Damon’s actor though – she cringed sometimes at the sheer colour present in them. But she never felt like Langdon. Not really. 

“Mel’s always been a Stefan girlie,” Becca told him loudly. 

Mel had flushed to the roots of her hair at Langdon’s surprised look. “He treats her with respect,” she’d defended weakly. “And he’s the better brother.” 

That became a hot topic of debate for several minutes before they piped down and watched as Elena struggled between the two brothers for the hundredth time that episode. 

“Gilmore Girls,” she replies absent-mindedly, remembering how Langdon had fallen asleep with his head against the arm of her couch, his snores softly filling the room. The way his Adam’s apple had been exposed. “Becca likes starting at season 2 though.” 

“Any reason why?” 

“Dean annoys her.” 

“Huh. Understandable.” 

At her skeptical look, Langdon grins. “My sister made me watch the show as it was coming out.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. No blue-eyed boys to root for on that show, though.” Langdon then elaborates, “we need to stick together and all, you know. Solidarity.” 

“There’s Luke,” Mel can’t help but point out. 

Langdon pauses, then shrugs, as if realizing he’s been outmatched. “Touche.”  They make plans for him to come over in the morning on Sunday, since they both reliably have those days off now that the kids are back with Abby. 

Mel takes another sip of her water, grimacing. 

“You alright?” 

“Slight headache.” 

A pause. She can feel Langdon inspecting her with his eyes, which has always been a peculiar feeling. 

“That guy earlier wasn’t bothering you, was he?” 

Mel frowns again. She should stop, she knows. She once had a tiktok influencer patient who kept pointing out whenever she did it, which was often enough she jumps a little now when she frowns as if expecting someone to bark at her to quit it because of the ‘wrinkles.’

“Which guy?” she asks, picking at her cuticles. 

“The blonde dude.” A sour look flashes on his face, then changes as Langdon clenches his jaw, as if he’s putting a considerable amount of effort to hide how he’s really feeling. “Frat boy looking fucker.” 

Mel is confused. “Weren’t you a fratboy?” 

He’d told that to her once, even showed her a picture on his phone. It had been a bad day – a little girl dead after pushing her brother out of the way from an oncoming car – and he’d found her out on the roof kneeling, head between her knees as she struggled to breathe. The picture had been old, but she’d been able to make out Langdon with his backwards cap and wide grin, wearing a tight blue t-shirt with Greek letters on it. He was holding – somehow – five beers in his hands along with a bong. Fratboy through and through. 

She’d spent several hours later after Becca had gone to sleep researching the initiation/hazing process, and by the time the sun had risen had texted him at least five articles talking about the danger of swallowing a live goldfish and how a few first-years had done to the hospital to get their stomach pumped because of it. 

How did you know about that???? Was what he’d texted.

Mel wrinkles her nose thinking about it. She’d never judge anyone for their dietary habits, but swallowing something alive gives her the heebie-jeebies.

“That’s not the point,” Langdon says quickly. “He looked like he was bothering you. Flappy hair, red face, unattractive—” 

“You mean Hunter?” 

“Of course his name is fucking Hunter,” Langdon mutters. “Wait, you know him?” 

“Not really,” Mel replies, trying not to sound nervous. Perhaps seeing Hunter had affected her more than she thought. “He knew someone I… was once familiar with.” 

Langdon’s face grows blank. “Once familiar with?” 

Mel blushes deeply. “We were uhm – intimately acquainted.” 

“You dated a frat boy?” He sounds mortally offended on her behalf, which Mel doesn’t know what to make of. 

She takes off her glasses, giving her an excuse not to look at him, and reaches in her pocket for the wipe so she can clean the lenses properly. 

“Mel?” he prompts. 

“He wasn’t a fratboy,” she says. “He was in marine biology.”

“He?” 

“Leonard,” Mel answers. She takes a little longer to clean her glasses than normal. “We dated when I was in med school for around a year.” She hadn’t seen or spoken to Leonard in years. She hadn’t seen the point beyond engaging in pleasantries when they bumped into each other. 

Langdon repeats the name as though he’s disgusted. 

“He was a nice guy,” Mel protests. “Really, we just weren’t best suited for each other, is all.” And that was mostly true. Leonard had an older brother who lived in a care home from when he was very young, so he understood Mel’s responsibilities to some degree. He always brought her flowers and never yelled at her or pressured her to do something she didn’t want to do. Perhaps that was the bare minimum, but Mel had appreciated it nonetheless. 

She relays this to Langdon, who makes a deep grumbling sound in his chest. 

“He sounds like a dick,” he says. “Who the fuck names their child Leonard?” 

“Many people,” Mel replies, puzzled. “There’s Leonard Cohen, Leonard Nimoy, Leonardo is the root name, of course which there are Dicaprio—” 

“I get it,” Langdon says. “What happened, then?” He nudges her again with his foot. “You know all about my shitty divorce.” 

That was true, except also not really. She knew that Langdon and Abby met in college in his last year of undergrad and fucked around – his words – for a few years on and off while occasionally seeing other people before they seemed to just click in his second year of med school. They married by the time he was an M4, and she was already four months pregnant. Then, according to Langdon, things began to implode when she found out about his addiction. “Final death bell of my marriage,” he’d sighed. He’d looked so upset while trying not to be that Mel waited until the end of their shift before she corrected him, “death knell.” 

Things had been falling apart before that though, according to him. He never spoke a lot about that though. Mel knew the timeline, but the intimate details she suspects he only tells his mandated therapist and maybe the group sessions in NA. Or maybe to his sponsor, McKay, who had stepped up to the challenge without missing a beat. 

“Nothing, really,” she says, flushing yet again. She feels oddly embarrassed thinking about Leonard. He had been sweet and kind and nice and yet—

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” 

Mel laughs a little. She feels dizzy suddenly, like she’s just bumped her head. Langdon reaches for his own water bottle – he always kept a plastic one in his lower leg left pocket for some reason, even squished it together so it would fit better – and takes a sip. 

It’s only when he looks away that she finds the strength to respond. 

“Well, he made me think I was asexual.” 

Langdon spits out his water. 

[saberamane]

Modern Day Dezio fic idea

Desmond is a bartender, 25, no contact with is parents, and very small friend group.

Ezio (34) is the son of a banker, his mom owns art galleries in both Italy and America, his older brother is a surgeon, and he himself is a lawyer who takes on wealthy clients. (Like celebrities and such.)

They meet completely by accident. Desmond fills in for a coworker on a night where Ezio is meeting with a client at the bar. (Its a high end bar.)

Desmond is polite but professionally distant. Ezio is immidiately interested.

Ezio stays after his client leaves, solely to talk to Desmond.

Desmond is resistant to the flirting. It happens every night, with dozens of numbers being left that Desmond never even looks at.

Ezio visits weekly, moving his client meetings to Desmond's shifts. He flirts, but doesn't push overly much.

After a few months, Desmond caves and accepts a dinner invitation, believing 100% that Ezio is just trying to get him into bed.

The dinner is great, in an expensive restaurant that has a nearly year long wait list.

Markedly, Ezio does not try to convince Desmond into sex. Like a gentleman, Ezio drives Desmond home, wishes him goodnight, and leaves.

The next date invitation, Desmond accepts without pause.

Before Desmond knows it, it's been 11 months. It's not just dinner any more. It's meeting for coffee and lunch and attending art shows (which Desmond doesn't know are in Ezio’s mother's galleries) and little street fairs and the carnival. They're full on dating, and Desmond doesn't know how.

Meeting Ezio’s family is a bit of a shock. His parents house is huge. And gorgeous. All his siblings are successful in their careers.

Federico was just in the news for performing a new, breakthrough surgery. Claudia owns the restaurant their first date was at, a table always available for family. Petruccio was just exploring the Amazon studying birds, and discovered a new species. Maria owns art galleries everywhere, and has her name on a plaque at the Louvre. Giovanni is the head of a bank that spans continents. One swanky enough their lobby's typically have fountains in them.

And of course, there's Ezio, a big time lawyer making lots of money.

And Desmond is just a bartender...

Needless to say Desmond freaks out. A lot.

How can a guy like Ezio, with his accomplishments and his family, be interested in Desmond?!

Ezio reassures Desmond, he loves Desmond for who he is as a person, not for his job or money or status. Those things don't matter.

Everything slowly goes back to normal. Desmond joins family holidays and vacations. Everyone seems to like him. Thinks he makes Ezio happy.

And then Ezio proposes. And Desmond freaks out again. Dating is one thing. Ezio can easily drop him if he gets bored or tired of Desmond. Marriage? A lot different. Lawyers have to be involved. Money. Lots of money sometimes.

After Desmond's freak out and a long conversation, he agrees to marry Ezio. He does love him after all.

But he has a condition...

"I want to sign a pre-nup."

"Absolutely not."

"I won't marry you without one. I don't want people thinking I'm marrying you for your money."

"No one will think that! My family loves you!"

That's my condition."

So Ezio draws up a prenuptial agreement for Desmond. One that is far too generous. Desmond makes him remake it.

"Desmond. Even if we get divorced, I will always make sure you are taken care of. This paper means nothing to me."

Desmond, blushing "Just write the damn thing."

Of course Ezio’s family is thrilled about the engagement. Not really thrilled about the pre-nup. They love Desmond, and know he's not marrying Ezio for money.

They, collectively, decide to make sure Deamond gets a lot of 'gifts'. Desmond feels too awkward rejecting gifts, and gifts are not part of the pre-nup. It's the perfect workaround.

Desmond knows what they're doing, but can't really figure out how to stop them.

[offthewall1979]

my review of Moonwalk: hot mess. ★★★.

[3x03spring]

man idgaf about what treville and richelieu have going on (mostly nothing) (they dont like each other but they work together a lot bc of their jobs.) (i guess treville holding onto a sense of honour whilst working with the cardinal is interesting but like that's not. thats not really those two having something interesting going on). lets talk about the king and the cardinal man.

[soyoursoulisgreen]

5, 11, and 30 for the artist ask meme!

5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself

It's increased over time! Well, actually, it's been a bell curve, kind of. Maybe more like a roller coaster lol. Obviously before I was online I wasn't sharing any of the stuff I drew; I drew for about seven years before posting anything - casually, for my own entertainment - and then for a while I was posting almost everything in some form or another; if I didn't post the original doodle, it was because I cleaned it digitally! But I got pretty burnt out on that haha - it does still come and go in cycles lol. Nowadays I probably keep back about 30% of what I draw? Although it can be hard to quantify - if you upload to an audience of zero, is it actually online? Haha ♪ Or an audience of one! Just because it's shared using the internet as a middle man, does that count as "posting"? :0 I don't know! I think it's an interesting question tho!

11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what

Yes! It really depends on what I'm drawing; my go-tos are always Reddit story readings since I don't have to think too hard about picking one, they last a while, and they keep my auditory brain occupied while my hands and eyes are busy. For a couple days of Requestober, especially the Portal/Stanley Parable days but also the song prompt, I was listening to themed stuff - GLaDOS lines, Narrator lines, the aforementioned song haha. I hate having to stop to pick the next thing! It makes editing my footage harder and throws off my flow :P

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated

A lot of my Law Abiding Citizen stuff probably - LAC is such a good series!! I wish more people would see it/were still into it. We're few, and I was late to party, but my love still burns! If I had to pick just one thing tho, I think it'd have to go to one of my Just Desserts comics - I cried while drawing it initially, and I still think Charm's transition from her smiling-crying face to her angry-crying face is so well done ♥

[minisugakoobies]

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted. 

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem. 

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you. 

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around. 

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around. 

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous? 

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye. 

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago. 

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him. 

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late. 

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs. 

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back. 

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that. 

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You:  It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me? 

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort. 

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little. 

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is. 

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one. 

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance. 

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response. 

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing. 

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man. 

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible. 

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.  

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not? 

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now. 

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide. 

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -  

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge. 

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?” 

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back. 

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands. 

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu. 

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon. 

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it? 

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses. 

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.” 

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close. 

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.  

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?” 

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment. 

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now. 

“I want what you promised me.” 

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.” 

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.” 

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.  

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him. 

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can. 

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.” 

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”  

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips. 

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face. 

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel. 

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.” 

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want. 

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation. 

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now. 

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?” 

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”  

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat. 

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes. 

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.” 

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you. 

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck. 

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly. 

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo. 

“‘Gyu, please.” 

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around. 

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?” 

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.” 

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you. 

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up. 

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements. 

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!” 

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.” 

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids. 

“It’ll be something like this.” 

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.” 

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over. 

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!” 

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you. 

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again. 

“Kiss me.” 

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.” 

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip. 

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.” 

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands. 

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.” 

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture? 

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.” 

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”  

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?” 

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.” 

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?” 

“I might have some ideas.” 

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!” 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[theogonize]

jjk men and their red flags

a/n: i'm feeling problematic :> tell me what u think (agree/disagree/add more?) this is all for shits n giggles !! non sorcerer au kinda

kento nanami — (over)protective

but like... to the point where it feels like he's treating you like a child! he doesnt like to see you sweat or even work at all for that matter. he loves it when you cook but has bought covers for all the knifes. if he sees a burn on your hand get ready for a 10 minute long lecture. if you accidentally fall he wont let you get up for atleast 3 days to help you ""heal."" it's almost like he doesnt trust you to take care of yourself :') he probably has like 3 separate first-aid kits everywhere.

suguru geto — emotionally unavailable

i feel like this is explainable to his character (sort of.) i dont think that he'd make you feel isolated at all, he's be an amazing listener and probably memorizes every word you say. he listens to you rant and even trauma dump with insane patience. but at some point it feels as though you hardly know him. he's talk to you a lot but very little of it is personal and you hardly know what he's thinking because his ass is not tell you. he also unintentionally distances himself from people from time to time. this applies to you too and you can feel him getting emotionally distant sometimes. it isnt something he does knowingly but it sure ass hell bothers you.

satoru gojo — very clingy and needy

this nigga. he is so utterly clingy. and at first it's perfectly fine, even appreciated by you. you still love him like crazy of course but it is just overwhelming. he is like a child most of the time, he need you around him and is always accompanying you wherever you go, and he expects you to do the same. he also doesn't believe in "me time" because why would you feel better when you're away from him: (? want to hang out with your friends? what do you need them for: (? he's right there. he is also physically incapable of listening but boy is he good at making up.

toji fushiguro — controlling

he is so controlling omfg. it's usually subtle but sometimes he will outright just say no to things he doesnt like, not caring if you like them. it gets to the point where he actually starts to change your personality. he is very caring and that's his justification for this typa stuff. it is usually harmless stuff but he gets paranoid often. he doesnt let you wear miniskirts out if you're not with him. he doesn't let you befriend people he thinks are into you. he barely lets you buy stuff on your own, he usually gifts you whatever it is youre into at that moment. borderline turned on by fear and you being dependent on him.

choso kamo — has no social life outside you

pretty self explanatory. he doesnt have many friends outside you and isn't interesting in making them either. total loser. so taking him out to events, he probably doesnt interact much and chooses to look at you the entire time, which annoys your friends. he answers their questions pretty bluntly. he's never down to have people over and lowkey hates when you are.

hiromi higuruma — workaholic

also self explanatory. he leaves early, comes home late. you barely see him on the weekdays. sometimes he goes as far as ignoring your calls when in between cases. he calls you periodically but has to have an alarm set to remind him. he loves you very very deeply but is just used to working non stop T_T

[miriani-lavellan]

Ahh, Lucanis. So let me first say, his scenes make total sense and I'm happy with what we got - we all want more from our faves, but they did manage to compact a lot of trauma and resolution in some fairly compact quests. Here's what I think happened that wasn't made explicitly clear though:

Lucanis chooses the pantry to sleep in because he's been imprisoned and tortured for a year, and he's not ready to leave captivity yet, not inside his head. He locks himself in there because it's familiar misery to him, which is easier to deal with than scary freedom.

Lucanis' letter to Rook before he asks Emmrich to bring Zara back for questioning tells us he's suicidal at that point, and probably has been for a while. Spite, however, doesn't see him as a lost cause - he never uses that to take over Lucanis' body entirely. This is so interesting to me, when we know things like that pretty famously happen all the time in Thedas. He's determined to keep Lucanis alive - and he asks for Rook's help in doing so.

We are in the NORTH now BABY! Attitudes towards spirits and demons are different here, especially in Rivain, and it seems with our Rook too, who never expresses any chantry-esque hang ups (that I've seen). Seer Rowan greets Spite as Determination, and that's how he's introduced by Isabela (with some excitement) if you fight in the hall of Valor. What happened to Spite is just as sad as what happened to Lucanis. He was violated, perhaps corrupted, and definitely trapped - and hurts Lucanis sometimes in his frustration. But, I think he likes Lucanis! He's his host's little head gremlin, and I think the relationship they have (that we don't see too much of) is healthier than any of the possessed individuals we've seen before.

Because? Lucanis is not a spiteful person. He wants revenge, yes, and he's angry, but he doesn't hurt everyone around him because he's in pain. One of the first things he does when he becomes part of the team is go shopping for them. And despite how Ilario and Caterina have hurt him - and you can argue all day whether he's right to be like this - he still cares for them.

I think that when we help Lucanis leave the prison inside his head, we are helping Spite to return to his original nature as Determination just a little more. We're determined to help our friend, and you know what? Spite is too. For himself, firstly, because Lucanis's pain is hurting him, but in the end, he's done it for Lucanis too. There's an argument there that Determination didn't get corrupted at all - just hurt, and that Lucanis, with his loving nature, has been keeping him from turning into a mindless demon of pain.

I thought for a long time that when Lucanis breaks away from kissing Rook, it was because Spite said something horrible to him. But actually, I think it was Lucanis himself, remembering how trapped he is. Thinking about the eventuality of killing himself - I strongly suspect that's what he was thinking about before he fell asleep, and that's why Spite was trying to go walkabout - trying to get out from where Lucanis can't. Lucanis got lost in the moment, but of course he doesn't want to drag Rook into that.

Lucanis making dessert for Rook and thinking that's the same as asking them out (but not actually asking them out) is so completely on brand for him I laughed. He has no idea what he's doing. It would have been nice, though, for Rook to reply to one of the companion's 'so you're together?' banters with... 'we are?' Or for Rook to be able to ask him. Unfortunately, we don't get those convos where we can spam ask questions etc like in DA:I - I did wonder if that got cut and we missed some resolution to that.

Lucanis gives no shits about everyone knowing he's Rook's love interest. He's not ashamed of himself or scared he'll hurt them - Rook has helped both him and Spite. And judging by the way Spite's wings come out to embrace Rook as they kiss Lucanis, I suspect that Spite might love them, too.

[flux1563]

A true identity ft. Heejin

Tags : squirting (a lot), love at first sight, first time, creampie

Words : 10K+

Heejin stumbled into the crowded café, her nose buried in a dense textbook on quantum mechanics. The smell of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the murmur of students discussing assignments and weekend plans. She was lost in her own world of quarks and leptons, oblivious to the hustle and bustle around her.

"Hi, can I sit in front of you?" Y/N said, his voice a smooth blend of accents that hinted at a life spent traveling.

Heejin nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Yeah, of course," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

 Heejin, a lesbian college student, is engrossed in her quantum mechanics textbook at a café when she notices a new customer, Y/N, an international student with tan skin and a charming presence. His confidence and unique features capture her attention, causing her to feel self-conscious and attracted for the first time in years. He approaches her, asking to sit nearby.

Y/N flashed a dazzling smile before sliding into the chair opposite her. He set down his own textbook, something about international economics, and pulled out a sleek laptop. The silence between them was charged with an electric tension that Heejin couldn't ignore. She stole glances at his strong hands as they danced across the keyboard, his fingers moving with a grace she hadn't expected from someone so tall. His eyes remained focused on the screen, the only indication of his presence the occasional furrowing of his brow.

Heejin took a deep breath and closed her quantum mechanics book with a soft thud. "You're not from around here, are you?" she ventured, hoping to break the ice.

Y/N's fingers paused on the keyboard, and he glanced up at her. "Ah, you noticed," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'm half European and half Asian. My mom's Korean, but my dad's from Spain. I grew up bouncing between Seoul and Madrid."

Heejin felt a spark of curiosity ignite within her. "That must be quite an interesting upbringing," she said, her voice growing a little stronger.

"It has its perks," he replied with a grin. "I can swear in three languages without batting an eye."

Y/N, a new international student with an intriguing mix of European and Asian heritage, sits near Heejin in the café. Heejin, feeling a growing attraction, initiates conversation. He shares his unique background, having lived in both Seoul and Madrid, and they bond over the novelty of his multilingual proficiency in swearing.

Their conversation grew from there, stretching into a tapestry of shared experiences and laughter. Heejin found herself forgetting about her homework, her mind fully engaged with Y/N's tales of bullfights and flamenco nights. His stories painted vivid images in her mind, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the richness of his life experiences.

As the hours passed, the café grew quieter as other students filtered out, leaving only a handful of die-hards still tapping away at their laptops. The barista glanced over at them occasionally, but mostly let them be, enjoying the lightness they brought to the space.

 Heejin and Y/N continue to connect, sharing personal stories and laughter, filling the café with their vibrant energy. As they discuss their individual experiences, a strong bond forms, and Y/N expresses his curiosity about Heejin's life in Korea, revealing his own longing to understand the culture beyond his occasional visits.

Their conversation continued, weaving through the evening shadows until the café's lights began to dim, signaling the approaching closing time. Reluctantly, they gathered their things, the warmth of their newfound camaraderie lingering as they stepped into the cool night air.

"So, what do you like to do for fun around here?" Heejin asked, her curiosity about Y/N's hobbies piqued by their shared love of diverse experiences.

Y/N's eyes lit up at the question. "Well, I've recently picked up swimming," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "There's something about the water that just feels like home."

Heejin felt a shiver of excitement run down her spine. "Really?" she replied. "I can't swim at all. It's always been one of those things I've been meaning to learn, but you know, life gets in the way."

Y/N's smile grew even wider. "Well, it's never too late to start," he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "In fact, I'd be happy to teach you. My mother has a private villa with a pool just outside the city. It's the perfect place for lessons."

Heejin's eyes widened with surprise. "A villa? That sounds amazing!"

Y/N nodded. "It is," he assured her. "And the pool is just the right size for learning. Plus, it's pretty secluded. No prying eyes."

 The conversation shifts to hobbies and Y/N reveals his passion for swimming, suggesting to Heejin that he could teach her at his mother's private villa outside the city. Heejin is intrigued and accepts the offer, excited by the prospect of a secluded, private lesson.

SUMMARY^2: Heejin, a lesbian college student, meets Y/N, a tan and attractive international student, in a café. They bond over personal stories and Y/N's multilingual swearing, forming a strong connection. Y/N offers to teach Heejin swimming at his mother's private villa outside Seoul.

Heejin felt a mix of excitement and trepidation at the thought of spending the weekend with this enigmatic stranger. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something undeniably alluring about him, something that called to her adventurous spirit.

"Okay," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "Send me the details, and I'll be there."

Y/N pulled out his phone, his fingers deftly navigating the screen. "What's your number?" he asked, extending the device towards her. Heejin recited the digits, her heart pounding as she watched him save her contact. The phone buzzed in his hand, and he handed it back to her with a smile. "Now you have mine," he said. "How about this weekend ?."

"Yes, I can. I'll come on Saturday," Heejin said, the words spilling out before she could second-guess herself. A wave of excitement washed over her as she imagined the weekend ahead, filled with the promise of swimming lessons and stolen moments of quiet companionship.

The days until Saturday seemed to crawl by, each tick of the clock echoing in her ears like a drumbeat. When the fateful day finally arrived, Heejin awoke early, her mind racing with thoughts of Y/N and the mysterious villa that awaited her. She carefully selected her outfit—a modest yet flattering swimsuit and a loose-fitting sundress to wear over it.

 Heejin accepts Y/N's offer for a weekend swimming lesson at his mother's villa. Despite her nerves, she eagerly anticipates the private, secluded setting, choosing an outfit that balances modesty with allure.

With her heart in her throat, Heejin made her way to the address he had sent her, nestled in the lush countryside. The scenic journey took her through winding roads lined with cherry blossoms, their pink petals fluttering like confetti in the breeze. The villa came into view, a picturesque oasis amidst the greenery. It was a modernist masterpiece of glass and steel, with a sprawling pool that gleamed like a sapphire under the early afternoon sun.

Heejin approached the gate, her hand trembling slightly as she typed in the code Y/N had provided. With a soft click, it swung open, revealing a path lined with stepping stones that led to the front door. She followed it, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the serene silence. The door was unlocked, and she pushed it open to reveal an expansive, minimalist living room, the floor-to-ceiling windows offering an unobstructed view of the pool beyond.

Y/N emerged from a side room, clad in a pair of board shorts and a loose-fitting shirt, his hair damp from what she assumed was a recent shower. "You found it," he said with a grin, his eyes sweeping over her appreciatively. Heejin felt a flush of heat rise to her cheeks as she took in his bare feet and the way the fabric clung to his muscular frame.

"Welcome to my mother's sanctuary," he said, gesturing to the pool. "Ready to conquer your fear of water?"

 Heejin arrives at the villa, captivated by its beauty and seclusion. Y/N greets her, and she feels a rush of attraction for his physique. He reaffirms their purpose for the visit: to conquer her fear of water with his swimming lessons.

Heejin nodded, her pulse quickening as she reached into her bag and pulled out the swimsuit she had packed. She slipped into the bathroom, her hands shaking as she unzipped her dress and slid the fabric down her body. The swimsuit she had chosen was simple yet flattering. As she adjusted the straps and smoothed out the material, she couldn't help but think about the last time she had worn something so revealing.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she found Y/N already by the pool, his back to her as he dipped his toes into the water. The sight of his broad shoulders and muscular back sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. He looked up as she approached, his gaze lingering on her figure before he quickly averted his eyes. Heejin felt a sudden urge to turn back, but the excitement of the moment was too potent to resist.

Y/N's eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of her, and before she could say anything, he turned and dove into the pool, the water splashing around him as he submerged himself completely. When he resurfaced, his hair was plastered to his forehead, and a mischievous grin played on his lips. "Come on in, the water's perfect!" he called out.

 Heejin, feeling self-conscious, changes into her swimsuit and joins Y/N by the pool. His lingering gaze and subsequent dive into the water hint at his own attraction and eagerness for their swimming session.

Heejin took a tentative step towards the pool's edge, her heart racing. She could see the outline of his erection pressing against the fabric of his shorts, and she knew that she was the cause of his arousal. A blush spread across her cheeks, but she didn't look away. Instead, she took a deep breath and jumped in after him, the cool water enveloping her body in a gentle embrace. She surfaced with a gasp, her eyes locking onto his as they both treaded water.

Their bodies brushed against each other as they moved closer, the electricity between them palpable. Heejin felt the fabric of her swimsuit stick to her skin, outlining her hardening nipples. Y/N's gaze dropped to her chest before he coughed, clearing his throat awkwardly. "So, about those swimming lessons..."

Heejin couldn't help but laugh, the tension dissipating like bubbles in the water. "Yeah," she said, "let's get started."

Y/N nodded, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He moved closer, placing his hand gently on her back as he began to instruct her on the basics of floating. Heejin, however, had other ideas. With a playful wiggle of her hips, she pushed her ass against his growing arousal, feeling the heat of his body through the thin barrier of their swimsuits.

Y/N's instruction faltered for a moment, his breath hitching as he felt her soft curves pressing against him. "C-concentrate, Heejin," he managed to say, his voice strained.

 Heejin overcomes her nerves and jumps into the pool, where she notices Y/N's attraction to her. Despite the awkwardness, they begin their swimming lesson with Y/N trying to maintain a professional demeanor while Heejin flirts subtly, hinting at her own desires.

Ignoring his protest, she leaned back, her eyes wide with feigned panic. "Oh no, I think I'm drowning!" she exclaimed dramatically, her arms flailing in the water.

Y/N's instincts took over, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to keep her afloat. Her breasts pressed against his chest as she gasped for breath, the sensation sending a bolt of desire through his body. He could feel her heart racing, matching the tempo of his own as they remained entangled in the water.

"You're okay," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. Heejin's eyes searched his, a playful smile playing on her lips as she pushed herself even closer, her legs wrapping around his waist. "You're not fooling anyone, Heejin," he said, his tone low and husky.

Undeterred, she did it again, the friction between them sending a delicious shiver down her spine. Each time she feigned distress, her body brushed against him more deliberately, her movements becoming increasingly sensual. Y/N's resolve began to crack, his body responding to her teasing with a fervor that surprised even him. He knew he should stop her, maintain the innocent facade of their swimming lesson, but the allure of her touch was too great.

"Stop it, I know it," Y/N said, trying to keep his voice firm despite the waver in his tone. His arms tightened around her, his hands sliding down to her hips. He could feel the heat of her skin, the water acting as a thin veil that only heightened the intensity of their contact.

 Heejin playfully pretends to need saving, increasing the physical contact between them and pushing the boundaries of their supposedly innocent swimming lesson. Despite Y/N's attempts to keep things professional, the sexual tension becomes unbearable as their bodies continue to touch and move against each other.

 Heejin meets Y/N for a swimming lesson at a private villa, feeling a growing attraction and anticipation. Upon her arrival, she's drawn to his physique, and their lesson starts amidst unspoken desires. She flirts subtly, and the lesson evolves with increased physical contact and unmistakable sexual tension.

Heejin giggled, the sound music to his ears as she leaned back, her body arching against his. "But the water feels so good," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Y/N took a deep breath, willing his body to cooperate. "Heejin," he said, his voice a low growl, "I think it's time we take a break from swimming."

With a mischievous grin, Heejin nodded and allowed him to help her out of the water. Her legs felt wobbly on the slick tiles, and she leaned into him for support, her skin glistening with water droplets that sparkled in the sunlight. Y/N's eyes trailed down her body, taking in the way the fabric of her swimsuit clung to her curves. He knew that he had to regain control of the situation before it spiraled out of his grasp.

As they stepped onto the floor, Y/N's restraint snapped. He leaned in, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was as hungry as it was unexpected. Heejin's eyes widened with surprise, but she melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she tried to keep up with the tempo of his kisses. His tongue danced with hers, exploring the depths of her mouth with a passion that left her breathless. She could feel his cock pressing against her thigh, demanding more than she was prepared to give in such a public space.

"Form the beginning, u want this, right?" Y/N murmured against her lips, his breath hot and ragged. His question hung in the air, a declaration wrapped in a whisper.

 Heejin's playfulness leads to a passionate kiss between them, taking the situation beyond swimming lessons. The intensity of their interaction escalates, with both of them acknowledging the underlying desires that have been brewing.

Heejin just smiles and nodded, the tension of their shared desire making her dizzy. She had never felt this way about a man before, but there was something about Y/N that made her want to explore the uncharted waters of her sexuality.

With trembling hands, Y/N reached for the strings of her swimsuit top, his eyes never leaving hers. He gently untied them, revealing the soft mounds of her breasts, the tips already pebbled with arousal. Heejin gasped as the cool air kissed her skin, her nipples hardening against his fingertips as he cupped them, weighing their heft in his palms. She felt a thrill of power as she watched his eyes darken with desire, his pupils dilating until they nearly eclipsed the warm brown iris.

Her own hands found his shirt, her fingertips tracing the ridges of his abs as she pulled it over his head. His muscles rippled under her touch, the sun-kissed skin warm and inviting. He was everything she had ever fantasized about in a man—tall, handsome, and confident—and yet, she had never felt so drawn to anyone before. It was as if a part of her she had buried deep had been suddenly awakened, and she was eager to explore this newfound aspect of herself.

 Heejin's curiosity leads to the removal of their swimsuits, exposing their bodies to each other's hungry gazes. The intimate act of touching and exploring each other's physiques reveals the depth of their mutual attraction and marks the beginning of their sexual journey together.

Heejin felt the heat of his gaze as it traveled over her body, his eyes lingering on her breasts before dropping to her swimsuit bottoms. She could feel her cheeks flush with anticipation as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband, pausing to look up at him for permission. Y/N nodded, his eyes never leaving hers, and she pushed the fabric down her legs, stepping out of it and kicking it away.

Y/N's breathing grew heavier as he took in the sight of her naked form, his own arousal now clearly visible through his board shorts. He reached down and began to tug at the waistband, the fabric straining against his erection. Heejin watched with rapt attention as he revealed himself to her, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the size and girth of his cock. It was nothing like she had ever seen before in her fantasies, and the reality was both terrifying and thrilling.

He stepped closer, closing the distance between them until she could feel the heat of his body radiating against her skin. He took one of her breasts in his hand, the touch sending a bolt of pleasure through her body. His thumb brushed against her nipple, sending a shiver down her spine as it pebbled beneath his touch.

 The sexual tension culminates in the removal of their last barriers, revealing their naked forms to each other. Heejin's first-hand experience with a male body evokes a mix of fear and excitement as she confronts the reality of Y/N's arousal, setting the stage for their imminent physical intimacy.

"Your boobs are not that big," Y/N said, his voice a mix of wonder and admiration. "But that's perfect size for me." He leaned down, his breath hot against her skin as he took the sensitive peak into his mouth, suckling gently. Heejin gasped, her hands flying to his head to hold him closer, the sensation overwhelming. He switched to the other side, giving it the same tender attention, his tongue flicking and teasing as he worked his magic.

"Ahh... keep doing that, Y/N," Heejin panted, her legs threatening to buckle under the weight of her growing arousal. "My pussy is getting wet each time," she confessed, her voice breathless and needy. She felt his cock twitch against her stomach in response, and she knew she wasn't the only one affected by their passionate dance.

Without a word, Y/N dropped to his knees before her, his eyes never leaving hers as he hooked his thumbs into the sides of her swimsuit bottoms and pulled them down. Heejin stepped out of them, leaving her completely bare before him. The cool air of the villa's living room kissed her skin, sending goosebumps down her spine. Y/N's gaze dropped to her neatly trimmed pubic hair, the folds of her pussy glistening with the promise of what was to come.

 Y/N expresses his appreciation for Heejin's body, focusing on her breasts and eliciting a powerful reaction from her. He then proceeds to remove her swimsuit bottoms, leaving her vulnerable and exposed, while his own desire for her is clearly evident.

He leaned in, his nose brushing against her sensitive flesh as he inhaled deeply. The scent of her arousal filled his senses, a potent aphrodisiac that sent his own desire spiraling. His tongue darted out, tracing the seam of her labia with a gentle touch that made her whimper. Heejin's knees buckled slightly, but Y/N's strong hands held her in place, his grip firm yet reassuring.

"Ahh, so good, Y/N," she gasped, her eyes fluttering closed as he continued to tease her with feather-light kisses and nips. His mouth moved to her clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub as she squirmed under his touch. He could feel her legs tremble, her body poised on the edge of orgasm.

But just as she was about to crest the wave, Y/N pulled away, leaving her panting and needy. "Now, for the real lesson," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. He stood up, towering over her, his eyes never leaving hers as he reached down to cup her cheek. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, sending another shiver down her spine.

Heejin's eyes grew wide as she felt his thumb slide down to her neck, then further, until it brushed against the pulse point between her breasts. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice a whisper of breath.

 Y/N begins to perform oral sex on Heejin, eliciting strong reactions of pleasure, but then abruptly stops to announce the 'real lesson'. His intimate touches continue to escalate, leaving her desperate for more, and setting a mysterious tone for what is to come in their sexual exploration.

 Heejin and Y/N kiss passionately, moving beyond swimming lessons. They strip each other, revealing their desires. Y/N appreciates Heejin's body and performs oral sex, stopping to announce a 'real lesson'. The intense interaction leaves Heejin eager for the next phase of their encounter.

Y/N's smile was knowing, his eyes dark with lust. "You'll see," he murmured, as his hand trailed lower, until his fingers brushed against the slickness of her pussy. He traced her folds, his touch feather-light, as if he was learning the contours of a new map. Heejin's eyes rolled back in her head, and she moaned softly, her hips bucking against his hand.

He chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, before sliding two fingers into her without warning. She was tight, tighter than he had expected, and she gasped as he filled her. He stilled for a moment, allowing her to adjust to the intrusion before he began to move, his fingers exploring her depths with a gentle yet insistent rhythm. Heejin's legs wobbled, but she managed to stay upright, her hands gripping at y/n to keep her balance standing.

"Fuck, you're so good," she moaned, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt the tension coil tighter and tighter in her belly. His thumb circled her clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body, and she could feel the beginnings of an orgasm building, a storm brewing on the horizon of her senses. "My pussy is stretching by your fingers," she gasped, her voice ragged with need.

Y/N chuckled against her neck, his breath hot and tickling. "You're so tight, Heejin," he murmured, his voice thick with his own arousal. "I can feel every inch of you around me." He began to pump his fingers in and out of her, the slow, deliberate strokes pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

 Y/N's manual exploration of Heejin's body intensifies, inserting his fingers into her for the first time and bringing her to the brink of orgasm. His skilled touch and gentle dominance leave Heejin desperate for more, her voice filled with ragged desire.

"Your fingers are so big, fuck," Heejin moaned, her eyes flying open to meet his.

Y/N's smile grew wider as he felt her pussy clench around his digits. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a low purr.

"Yes, yes, I'm...I'm going to cum," Heejin panted, her nails digging into his shoulders as the waves of pleasure grew stronger.

Y/N watched as Heejin's body began to tense, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. He knew she was close, and the thought of her coming apart in his arms was almost too much to bear. He increased his pace, his fingers curling inside her, hitting that spot that had her entire body trembling.

"I can't take this anymore," Heejin whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own breathing. Her eyes squeezed shut tightly, and her body arched back, pushing her breasts out towards the sky. "I'm cumming..."

Y/N felt her walls tighten around his fingers, the muscles in her pussy clenching in an involuntary spasm as her orgasm took hold. He watched with rapt attention, his own breath catching in his throat as she began to squirt, the clear fluid spurting out and coating his hand. It was a sight he had never seen before, and the raw, unbridled passion of it was intoxicating.

 Heejin reaches climax as Y/N's fingers fill her, the intensity of her orgasm causing her body to convulse and release. The new experience is overwhelming for both, with Y/N visually captivated by her uninhibited response.

Heejin's trembling grew more intense as she rode the waves of pleasure, her nails digging into his skin as she clung to him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her firmly in place as she came, his other hand still working her clit in slow, deliberate circles. The sound of their wet skin slapping together filled the quiet room, a testament to their passionate dance.

When her climax finally subsided, Heejin's legs gave out, and she would have collapsed if not for Y/N's strong embrace. He held her up, her cheek pressed to his chest, as she took deep, gulping breaths, trying to regain her composure. His heart thudded beneath her ear, a steady rhythm that matched the pounding of her own.

"I didn't know you were a squirter, Heejin," Y/N said, his voice filled with amazement as he pulled back slightly to look down at her.

Heejin blushed, her cheeks flaming red as she buried her face in his chest. "I... I don't know it too," she admitted, her voice muffled by his skin. "It was my first time."

Y/N chuckled, his grip on her tightening as he stared down at her. "Well, you're a natural," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Now, it's my turn to give you a taste of what I can do."

 After her first orgasm, Heejin's legs give way, and Y/N holds her up, both marveling at her squirting. Heejin confesses it's her first time experiencing this, and Y/N, impressed, looks forward to giving her another new experience.

With that, Heejin dropped to her knees before him, her eyes never leaving his as she reached for the waistband of his board shorts. He stepped back slightly, allowing her to pull them down, revealing his rock-hard cock that stood tall and proud. It was the first time she had seen one up close, and she couldn't help but feel a mix of trepidation and excitement as she took it in her hands.

Y/N's breath hitched as she began to explore him with her tongue, her movements tentative at first as she traced the veins that snaked along his shaft. The taste of him was unfamiliar, a heady mix of salt and musk that filled her mouth. She marveled at the velvety softness of his skin against the firmness beneath, her curiosity piqued by this foreign yet fascinating landscape.

Without warning, he surged forward, his cock pushing past her lips and filling her mouth. Heejin's eyes went wide with surprise.

Her cough took them both by surprise. It was a sudden, involuntary spasm that sent a jet of saliva and pre-cum spraying onto his abs. Heejin's eyes watered as she pulled back, her cheeks a fiery red. "I'm sorry," she gasped, her voice muffled by her hand as she tried to cover her mouth.

 Heejin, eager to reciprocate, attempts to give Y/N oral sex for the first time, but her inexperience leads to a surprise cough and a messy spray of saliva and pre-cum. Embarrassed, she apologizes, revealing her newness to the act.

Y/N looked down at her, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. "It's okay," he managed to say, his voice strained. He could feel the tension in his body dissipating, the moment of passion giving way to a sudden burst of laughter. "It's your first time with... something that size," he added, trying to keep his tone light.

"Just relax, sweetheart," he murmured, placing a hand on the back of her head and guiding her closer to him once more. This time, he pushed in more slowly, allowing her to adjust to the intrusion. Heejin took a deep breath, her eyes watering as she felt him fill her mouth. The sensation was strange, yet she was eager to please him, to make him feel the same way he had made her feel moments ago.

"That's good, breath through your nose," Y/N said, his voice gentle and soothing. Heejin nodded, taking his advice and finding that it helped ease the discomfort. She took another deep breath, the air flowing in and out of her nostrils as she took more of him in. His grip on her hair tightened slightly, his hips starting to move in a slow, shallow rhythm.

Heejin felt his cock swell in her mouth, the veins pulsing with each heartbeat. She could feel his thighs tense as he tried to maintain control, his breaths growing quicker. She wrapped her hands around the base of his shaft, her thumb playing with the sensitive skin beneath as she took him deeper.

 Heejin, still embarrassed, tries to recover and gives Y/N oral sex again, with his gentle guidance. She adjusts to the sensation and takes him deeper, eager to satisfy him and learning from his instructions. Y/N's body responds visibly, showing signs of approaching climax.

 Y/N explores Heejin intimately, bringing her to a powerful climax through manual stimulation and making her squirt. She confesses her inexperience, and he eagerly awaits the next step. Heejin attempts oral sex, but initially fails due to inexperience. With Y/N's guidance, she successfully performs the act, bringing him pleasure and learning from the experience.

The sound of his moans grew louder, his hips jerking slightly as she found a rhythm that suited them both. His hand on the back of her head grew firmer, guiding her movements as he grew more and more lost in the sensation. "Your mouth is so warm," he groaned, his voice strained.

Heejin felt a thrill of power as she took him deeper, her eyes watering but her determination unwavering. She had never felt so alive, so consumed by passion before. Y/N's hand tightened in her hair, and she knew he was close. She focused on his reactions, the way his breath caught when she hit the right spot, the way his cock twitched against her tongue.

With renewed confidence, Heejin began to move faster, her throat relaxing around his girth. Y/N's moans grew more urgent, his hips thrusting in time with her bobbing head. "Ughh, your throat is tight," he grunted, his voice strained with pleasure.

Suddenly, Heejin felt his cock swell even more in her mouth, and she knew he was on the brink. She braced herself, her eyes watering as she took him as deep as she could. With a roar, Y/N's hips bucked forward, and he came, his hot seed filling her mouth. She tried to swallow it all, eager to show him that she could handle it, but the sheer volume of his release was overwhelming. Some of it spilled out, dribbling down her chin and onto her chest.

 Heejin becomes more adept at giving Y/N oral sex, taking his cock deep and responding to his cues. His pleasure builds until he climaxes, and she eagerly tries to swallow his cum, but the amount overwhelms her, leaving some on her chin and chest.

Heejin looked up at him with a mix of pride and embarrassment, her cheeks flushed from the exertion. Y/N's eyes were glazed with pleasure, a smug smile playing on his lips as he watched her try to contain his cum. He reached down and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, his thumb coming away sticky with his essence. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice gentle. "You did so well."

Heejin felt a rush of gratitude and affection for him, his words easing the self-consciousness that had taken hold of her. She leaned back, her mouth still open slightly, and allowed him to help her to her feet. The warmth of his cum on her chest made her even more aware of her nakedness, her nipples pebbled from the cool air.

"I didn't mean to spoil it," she said, her voice small as she tried to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. "It just... happened."

"Don't worry, Heejin," he said, his voice soothing. "You're doing great.".

With that, Y/N gently turned Heejin around, the water sluicing off her body as he positioned her at the pool's edge.

"Let's go to the next step," he murmured, his voice filled with a primal need that sent a thrill down Heejin's spine. He scooped her up in his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to the side of the pool. The cool tiles pressed against her back, the heat of her body in stark contrast to the chill beneath her.

 Y/N reassures Heejin after her first blowjob, praising her efforts. He then carries her to the side of the pool for the next stage of their intimate lesson, leaving her feeling a mix of pride and desire.

Y/N took a moment to appreciate the sight of her, his eyes devouring every inch of her bare flesh as the sun danced across her skin. He positioned himself between her legs, his cock still hard and slick from their earlier encounter. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver through her.

Heejin nodded, her eyes wide with a mix of excitement and trepidation. She had never done this before, never been with a man, but there was something about Y/N that made her feel safe, made her want to explore this new aspect of herself.

Y/N positioned the head of his cock at her entrance, his hands gripping her hips tightly. He paused, waiting for her nod, and when it came, he pushed forward, inch by inch, filling her with a pressure she had never felt before. Heejin's eyes squeezed shut as she felt herself stretch around him, the sensation both painful and incredibly arousing. She took a deep breath and pushed back, urging him to continue, her body hungry for the connection she had been craving.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice strained as he pushed into her, feeling her walls clench around him. He could see the determination on her face, the way her teeth were digging into her bottom lip as she took him deeper and deeper.

"I know it's big," Heejin said, her eyes never leaving his, "but I want all of it, Y/N." Her voice was filled with a mix of need and challenge, and he knew she was ready to take him completely.

 Heejin expresses her readiness, and Y/N gently penetrates her, both of them feeling the intense sensation of her first time with a man. His size overwhelms her initially, but she remains eager and determined to experience everything with him.

With a groan that was almost a growl, Y/N pushed the last of his length into her, feeling her body stretch and yield to his invasion. He held still for a moment, giving her a chance to adjust to the sensation. He could feel her pussy clench around him, her muscles tightening and releasing in a silent plea for more. "You're so perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he began to move, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Fuck, you're so big," Heejin gasped, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt herself stretched to the limit. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure and pain through her body, a heady mix that had her clinging to him tightly. His grip on her hips was firm, guiding her movements as he began to pick up the pace.

"I'm cumming," she panted, her nails digging into his skin as she felt the familiar tension building. "I'm going to squirt again." The words were barely a whisper, but they had the desired effect. Y/N groaned, his strokes becoming more erratic as he felt her pussy begin to pulse around him. He could feel the warmth of her juices coating his cock, the sensation driving him closer to the edge.

 Y/N and Heejin engage in passionate sex, with him filling her completely. Despite the initial pain, she finds pleasure in the act, prompting her to squirt again. This response intensifies his desire, leading to a climax.

Heejin's eyes flew open, her pupils dilated with lust as she watched him lose control. The power she had over him was intoxicating, and she pushed back with renewed vigor, her hips rising to meet his with each powerful thrust. Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt the first spasm, her pussy tightening around his cock. "Cum for me, Heejin," he growled, his voice deep and demanding.

The words were like a trigger, and she let go, her body convulsing in a powerful orgasm that had her screaming out his name. She felt the warmth of her juices flood around him, the sensation of his cock pulsing inside her setting off another wave of pleasure.

"Good girl," Y/N murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he increased his pace. He didn't wait for Heejin's orgasm to end; instead, he used it to fuel his own, pushing into her harder and faster with each stroke.

Heejin could feel another climax building, her pussy spasming around his cock as she continued to squirt. The sensation was overwhelming, a never-ending crescendo of pleasure that had her panting and whimpering. Y/N's eyes never left hers, his gaze locked onto hers as if he was trying to absorb every ounce of her passion.

 Heejin's second orgasm is triggered by Y/N's praise, leading to more intense sexual activity. Her squirting enhances his experience, pushing him closer to his own climax as they maintain deep, penetrative eye contact throughout.

"I'm going to cum, Heejin," he finally said, his voice tight with the effort of holding back. Heejin could see the strain in his face, the way his muscles stood out as he held himself above her, his body taut with tension. She felt a thrill at the knowledge that she had brought him to this point, that she had the power to make him lose control.

"Cum inside me," she whispered, the words a breathy plea that seemed to echo through the quiet afternoon air. "I brought the pill," she reminded him, her voice filled with a mix of urgency and need.

Y/N's eyes snapped to hers, his pupils dilated with desire. He knew she was on birth control, but the thought of coming inside her, of marking her in that most intimate of ways, was too tempting to resist. He nodded, his jaw clenched as he pushed into her one final time, his cock pulsing with the force of his release.

Heejin felt the warmth of his cum fill her, a sensation that was at once strange and exhilarating. Her own orgasm seemed to go on forever, her pussy contracting around him as he emptied himself into her. They stayed like that for a moment, locked in their passionate embrace, the world outside the villa fading away.

 As Y/N reaches the brink of his climax, Heejin whispers for him to cum inside her. He succumbs to the temptation, filling her as she experiences a prolonged orgasm. The intimacy of the moment connects them deeply.

As they both began to come down from their peak, Y/N leaned in to kiss her, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was as possessive as it was tender. His cock remained buried deep inside her, the evidence of their union mingling with her own juices. Heejin kissed him back, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure.

Slowly, Y/N pulled out, his cock slipping from her with a wet sound that made her shiver.

Heejin's pussy continued to spasm, releasing more of her juices onto the tile. She looked down in amazement as she felt a gush of liquid leave her, her body seemingly unable to contain the intensity of the orgasm that had just taken over her. "Wow," she murmured, her voice filled with wonder.

Y/N chuckled, a mix of amazement and satisfaction in the sound. "You're incredible," he said, his voice low and gruff. He leaned down and kissed her deeply, his tongue tasting himself on her lips. He could feel her squirting again, her body reacting to the sudden emptiness.

When they broke the kiss, Heejin leaned back into his embrace, her body boneless and pliant. He wrapped his arms around her, his cock still semi-hard against her stomach, and they stood there, panting and sated, for a moment. The sound of their breathing and the gentle lapping of the water against the side of the pool filled the silence.

"That was..." she began, but her voice trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe the intensity of what they had just shared.

 After climaxing, Heejin and Y/N share a deep, passionate kiss. Her pussy continues to spasm, releasing more fluid, prompting Y/N's amazement. They embrace, with Heejin at a loss for words to express her feelings. The serene atmosphere of the poolside is a stark contrast to their intense sexual encounter.

"Amazon," Y/N said, filling in the blank for her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chest pressing into her back as they both took a moment to catch their breaths. Heejin leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body envelop her, his cock still semi-erect and sticky against her skin.

They stood there for a long moment, the only sound the gentle lapping of the water against the side of the pool. The coolness of the tiles beneath them was a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies, and Heejin could feel the sweat beginning to dry on her skin.

Heejin's heart was racing, her thoughts a jumbled mess of emotions and sensations. She had never felt so alive, so connected to another person before. The way Y/N had made love to her, with such passion and tenderness, had left her feeling cherished and desired in a way she had never experienced.

Y/N kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her skin gently as he held her tight. "You're something else," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "I've never felt anything like that."

Heejin shivered, her pussy clenching around the emptiness where his cock had just been. The sensation sent a fresh wave of arousal through her body, making her want him again. She turned in his arms, her hands sliding up his chest as she looked into his eyes.

Y/N could see the desire in her gaze, the unspoken request that he continue to explore her body. He smirked, his thumb brushing over her hardened nipple, watching as she inhaled sharply. "Looks like someone enjoyed herself," he said, his voice a low tease that had her cheeks flushing once more.

Heejin didn't respond, instead leaning into his touch as he began to play with her sensitive peak. His other hand slid down her body, his fingers finding her clit and beginning to rub it in slow circles. The feeling was exquisite, the gentle pressure making her squirt again and again. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes fluttering shut as she tried to keep quiet, not wanting to break the spell that had fallen over them.

Y/N chuckled, his breath warm against her neck as he kissed her gently. "You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "It's like your body was made for this." His thumb flicked her clit, sending another spasm of pleasure through her. Heejin's legs began to shake, her orgasms coming closer together as he worked his magic.

Her moans grew louder, despite her efforts to remain silent, and Y/N took it as a challenge. He pinched her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core. His other hand never stopped moving, his fingers sliding easily through her wetness as she grew more and more aroused.

Heejin felt like she was on the brink of something incredible, her body taut with the need for release. She clung to him, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to get closer, to feel more. Y/N's chuckles grew into moans of his own, his cock growing hard once again as he felt her pussy contract around his fingers.

With one final, firm pinch, Heejin's body gave in, her pussy spasming as she came, squirting all over his hand. He held her tightly, his own arousal evident in his grip as he watched her ride out the waves of pleasure. When she finally went limp in his arms, he kissed her forehead, his eyes shining with affection and lust.

"You're a natural," he said, his voice a soft whisper against her skin. "But I'm not done with you yet." He scooped her up and carried her to a lounge chair by the poolside, laying her down gently. Heejin looked up at him, her eyes glazed with pleasure and anticipation.

Without a word, Y/N positioned himself between her legs and sank into her again, their bodies slippery with water and cum. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the air, punctuated by their ragged breaths and gasps of pleasure. Heejin's body was already primed for another round, and she eagerly welcomed him back inside.

Their movements grew more frantic as they lost themselves in the rhythm of their bodies, their kisses deep and all-consuming. Y/N's hand found her clit once more, his thumb flicking it with expert precision. She moaned into his mouth, her body arching off the chair as she came again, her juices mixing with the pool water beneath them.

They didn't stop there. Y/N picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, and carried her into the villa. They explored each room with an unbridled passion, leaving a trail of wetness and stickiness in their wake. On the plush carpet in the living room, against the cold marble of the kitchen counter, and even in the soft embrace of the velvet curtains in the study, they fucked with an urgency that seemed to grow with each passing moment.

Their lovemaking was raw and uninhibited, each room revealing new ways to satisfy their insatiable hunger for each other. In the bedroom, Y/N bent Heejin over the bed, her ass in the air as he pounded into her from behind. She could feel his sperm coating her insides, mixing with her squirt as he filled her up once again.

The scent of sex filled the air, a musky perfume that seemed to cling to every surface. The villa was no longer a serene retreat but a playground for their desires, each room holding a new adventure. In the shower, the hot water cascaded over their bodies as he took her from behind, her moans echoing off the tiles as she came yet again.

Their bodies were a tapestry of sensations, a blend of pleasure and pain that only served to heighten their arousal. The sound of their passion filled the air, a symphony of flesh slapping together and the sweet cries of release. They didn't care if they were heard; they were lost in their own world, a world where only they and their insatiable desires mattered.

As they moved from room to room, their bodies grew sticky with a mix of sweat and cum. They were a blur of motion, a dance of lust that knew no bounds. Heejin felt a thrill with every new position, every new sensation that Y/N introduced her to.

In the library, he bent her over a dusty bookshelf, the scent of old leather and paper mixing with the musk of their desire. Heejin's moans grew louder as he pounded into her from behind, the books rattling with each thrust. Her palms pressed against the cool wood, her legs trembling as she tried to keep herself steady. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes raking over her body as he watched his cock disappear and reappear with each stroke.

They moved to the dining room next, the long mahogany table serving as their stage. Heejin lay on her back, her legs spread wide as Y/N feasted on her pussy, his tongue delving into her folds with a hunger that surprised even her. She squirmed beneath him, the sensation of his tongue against her clit making her squirt once more. He lapped it up greedily, his eyes never leaving hers as he brought her to another shattering orgasm.

In the media room, with the glow of the giant TV screen casting an eerie light over their naked bodies, Heejin found herself straddling him on the plush couch. She rode him with an abandon she never knew she had, her tits bouncing with each bounce as she took him deep. The leather was sticky with their combined fluids, and the sound of their bodies coming together was almost obscene in the otherwise silent room.

Y/N's fingers dug into her hips as he watched her ride him, his cock disappearing into her tight pussy. He could feel her muscles tightening around him, the anticipation of her climax building with each passing second. "I want to feel you come around my cock," he said, his voice gruff with need. Heejin nodded, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she worked herself closer to the edge.

When it finally hit, it was like a lightning bolt, her pussy clenching around him as she screamed out her pleasure. He followed her over, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled her with his hot seed. They collapsed onto the couch, their bodies slick with sweat and cum, their hearts racing with the intensity of their passion.

For a moment, they lay there, panting and spent, the sound of their breathing the only thing breaking the silence. But it wasn't long before they were on the move again, their bodies craving more, the thrill of exploration and discovery driving them from one room to the next.

In the kitchen, they fucked standing up, the cold marble of the island countertop sending a delicious shiver through Heejin's body as Y/N pounded into her from behind. She could see their reflection in the gleaming stainless steel appliances, their bodies moving in a carnally beautiful ballet of lust. The smell of sex mingled with the faint scent of the leftover lunch, a heady combination that only served to drive them closer to the edge.

They stumbled into the gym, the sound of their footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. Y/N bent her over the treadmill, her hands grasping the handles as he took her from behind once more. The machine whirred to life under their combined weight, adding an unexpected rhythm to their lovemaking. Heejin's breasts bounced with each thrust, her nipples grazing the cool metal, sending sparks of pleasure through her body.

Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, each stroke bringing them closer to the brink of ecstasy. "I'm going to cum," she panted, her voice filled with a desperation that was almost painful.

"Do it," he growled, his own orgasm building. "Let me feel you come all over me."

With a scream that echoed through the cavernous space, Heejin's body tensed, her pussy clamping down around his cock as she squirted all over the gleaming black rubber. Y/N groaned, the feeling of her release pushing him over the edge. He came hard, filling her once again, their combined fluids spilling onto the treadmill's belt.

They staggered out of the gym, their legs unsteady as they moved through the villa.

"The jacuzzi," Heejin suggested, her voice low and needy. Y/N nodded, his eyes dark with desire as they made their way to the outdoor terrace. The water was steaming, the jets bubbling invitingly, and they slid into it with sighs of relief. The warmth of the water was a balm to their overheated skin, and they cuddled together, their limbs entwined.

The jets massaged their bodies, the water swirling around them as they kissed lazily. The tension that had built up over the last few hours began to melt away, their passion giving way to a gentle affection that was just as potent. Y/N reached down, his hand finding Heejin's clit, and began to rub it gently. She moaned into his mouth, her body responding immediately to his touch.

Their lovemaking in the jacuzzi was slower, more deliberate. They took their time, savoring each sensation, each touch. The warmth of the water made them feel as if they were floating, their movements languid and sensuous. Y/N slid into her, her pussy clenching around him as if it had been made for him. Heejin's eyes rolled back in her head, her body going limp with pleasure.

They moved together in a rhythm as old as time, their bodies fitting together perfectly. The water sloshed around them as they kissed and touched, their cries of pleasure muffled by the steady hum of the jets. The moon was high in the sky, casting a silver glow over their entwined forms. It was a moment out of a dream, a perfect culmination to their afternoon of exploration.

Finally, they reached their peak, their bodies shaking with the intensity of their orgasms. Heejin's pussy clamped down around Y/N's cock, milking him dry as he filled her with his cum. They stayed like that for a moment, their breaths mingling in the cool night air, their hearts racing in time with the beat of their shared passion.

After they had cleaned themselves off in the shower, they moved to the bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the plush comforter. Y/N pulled Heejin into his arms, their bodies still sticky with cum and sweat. They lay there, their breathing gradually slowing as the afterglow of their lovemaking washed over them.

Heejin felt a sense of belonging, a warmth that spread through her chest as she nestled into the crook of his neck. She had never felt so connected to someone, so seen and understood. Y/N's arms tightened around her, his breaths growing deep and even as he drifted off to sleep.

Her heart pounding in her chest, she gathered her courage and whispered the words that had been playing on her mind since their first kiss. "Y/N," she began, her voice barely a murmur. He stirred slightly, his grip on her waist loosening as he turned to face her. "Before this," she swallowed hard, "I was a lesbian. I only knew the touch of toys, never a real cock."

His eyes searched hers, a mix of curiosity and something deeper, something that made her stomach flip-flop. "This was my first time with a man," she confessed, her voice shaking with emotion. "And I'm so grateful it was you. You gave me an experience that was... beyond anything I could have imagined."

Y/N's gaze softened, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her hip. "And I'm grateful for you, Heejin," he said, his voice thick with sincerity. "You're so beautiful, so responsive. I've never felt anything like this before." He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "And you don't have to change for me. I'm just happy to be a part of your journey."

Her heart swelled with affection for him, and she knew she had made the right decision. She had found something in him that she had never felt before, something that made her question the boundaries she had set for herself. "You're the first cock to ever enter me," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "And you've given me so much pleasure. I don't think I could ever go back to just being with women now."

Y/N's eyes lit up with a fierce possessiveness that made her pussy throb once again. "So be my girl, Heejin," he said, his voice low and commanding. "You're already craving for my cock, aren't you?" His hand slid down her body, his fingers finding her clit and giving it a firm squeeze. Heejin gasped, her body arching into his touch.

He leaned in, his mouth capturing hers in a deep, hungry kiss. His tongue danced with hers, tasting the sweetness of their combined release. "I'll make sure you're always satisfied," he murmured against her lips. "My cock is yours whenever you need it."

With those words, Heejin felt something inside her shift. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew that she wanted Y/N to be a part of it. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "Yes," she breathed. "I'll be your girl."

Y/N's smile was triumphant, his eyes gleaming with lust. He rolled her onto her back, his cock already hardening again. "Good," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Because I'm not done with you yet." He positioned himself between her legs, his cock sliding into her once more.

This time, there was no hesitation, no awkwardness. They moved together with an ease that belied their newness to one another, their bodies speaking a language that needed no words. Heejin's hips rose to meet his, her pussy eager to be filled once again.

Their lovemaking was a declaration, a promise of what was to come. They explored each other's bodies with a ravenous hunger, each touch and kiss a vow to never let go. The room was filled with their passionate cries, a symphony of love and lust that seemed to resonate through the very air.

As they reached their climax, their bodies shuddering with the force of their shared pleasure, Heejin knew that she had made the right choice. With Y/N, she had found a new world of sensations, a place where she could truly be herself.

And as she felt his warmth fill her up once more, she realized that she was no longer just a lesbian. She was a woman in love, a woman who knew the true power of sexual exploration and the beauty of letting go of her preconceived notions. She was a woman who craved the touch of a man, who craved Y/N's cock, and who was ready to face whatever the future had in store for them.

They fucked into the night, their bodies a tapestry of pleasure and pain, each orgasm more intense than the last. When the sun finally began to peek over the horizon, their bodies exhausted, they collapsed onto the bed, their limbs tangled together.

Y/N's chest rose and fell with each deep breath, his arms tight around her as she lay sprawled across him. He could feel her heart racing, matching the rhythm of his own. The room was filled with the scent of sex and sweat, a heady aroma that seemed to cling to every surface.

Heejin's eyes fluttered closed, her body finally succumbing to the exhaustion that had been building with each orgasm. She felt boneless, her muscles relaxing into the softness of the bed. The warmth of Y/N's body was comforting, his skin sticky with their combined fluids.

As she drifted in and out of sleep, she felt his movements beside her. Y/N was already awake, his hand sliding over her body in a gentle caress. She opened her eyes to find him looking down at her, his expression a mix of concern and desire. "You okay?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

"I can't move," she admitted with a sleepy smile. "My body feels so heavy."

Y/N chuckled, his hand tracing the curve of her waist. "You're just overwhelmed with pleasure." He leaned down and kissed her forehead, his laughter a warm rumble against her skin. 

[hairmetal666]

No one knows who writes the Hawkins High Tattler. It comes out every week, without fail, has for almost two decades. Everyone reads it, even teachers, even parents. It's caused more the one suspension, grounding, and even--famously--a shipping off to boarding school.

Steve's never let the Tattler get to him much. He's in it, of course, practically a new story every week. But it's just silly gossip.

Of course, Steve is also, currently, the titular Tattler, so. It's not like he's surprised when his name shows up.

It's his third year, his last year, and he knows everything that ever goes on at Hawkins High. It's pretty easy, honestly. Everyone thinks he's ditzy and vapid; nothing more than hairspray and polos. People will say anything around him, assuming he's not listening or not interested, and then bam. It's in next week's Tattler. No one even suspects him.

The confessions locker probably helps. Down by the theater, busted and unusable, the perfect place for people to leave tips, to tattle on their friends (or enemies, as the case may be).

That's what he's doing right now, checking the confessions locker. After 9:30 on a Friday night, the place silent as the tomb, perfect time for it. Pretty standard fare this week. The only thing of interest is that Eddie Munson was the person who broke all Ms. Click's pencils and left the stubs on her desk. This one, he laughs at, can't wait to publish it; can't wait to talk to Munson about it.

He gets a lot of stuff about Eddie. Most of it he doesn't publish because it's bullshit about satanic rituals--the nerdy kids he babysits play dnd, and there's no way Karen Wheeler is letting anything satanic happen in her basement--or about his sexuality, and one thing Steve doesn't do is out people.

Gathering up this week's submissions, he closes the locker with a soft clink, and he swears, swears he hears the squeak of a tennis shoe on the polished tile of the floor. He freezes, heart in his throat. Nobody has been here this late before.

Seconds pass but there's only silence. Confident he's only hearing things, he heads out, the parking lot just as empty as when he arrived.

---

He sees Eddie a few days later, when he's picking up the kids from the arcade. They typically exchange casual greetings, but as Steve waits, Eddie stands with him, offers him a cigarette.

"Read that was you who messed with Click's pencils. Good one."

Eddie shrugs, gives a little bow and a smile. "Happy to be of service."

"It was my class, when she found them. Never seen her so mad."

"No way," Eddie laughs. "Not even when Hagan drew dicks on all the textbooks?"

"Not even then, man. She was throwing pencil stubs everywhere."

"Fuck, sad I missed it." Eddie takes a drag, Steve's eyes following the movement, lingering on his mouth. Something warm and tingling builds at the base of his spine and he forces his gaze away.

"How long you in detention for?"

"I'm not. Swore it wasn't me, and Click doesn't want to admit she reads the Tattler, so. Not much they could do. "

"I've seen it sitting on her desk!"

"I know! She reads it when she has detention duty!"

They lean against Steve's car, laughing, and Steve feels good. This is good. He likes Eddie. He's funny and dramatic and smart and kind. He's not deserving of any of the mean things that get submitted to the Tattler.

The kids come streaming into the parking lot then, and Eddie stubs out his cigarette, says "see you around, Harrington," and Steve finds himself flushing for reasons he can't quite explain.

---

He starts seeing Eddie around way more. He's in school most days, smoking in the parking lot after the last bell, chatting with Steve in the hallways.

It shows up in the Tattler; big news that the King and the Freak are hanging out. Most of the submissions are about it, increasingly elaborate rumors about their supposedly deep, close friendship.

He wishes he could tell Eddie.

Eventually, Eddie invites him to smoke at the quarry. He doesn't hesitate to say yes, doesn't even bother to try ignoring the swoop in his stomach, the speed of his heart.

They sprawl out in the back of the van, Eddie's loud, raucous music pounding around them, sharing a joint back and forth.

Steve gets hazy, boneless, can't stop watching Eddie, the way his lips purse around the joint, his long hair glinting gold in the weak light of the camping lanterns, the pleased shine of his eyes every time he makes Steve laughs.

He likes Eddie so much. Everything about him, honestly. Butterflies ping in his stomach, happy and slow, and he thinks how nice Eddie's lips are, wonders how soft they must be. And he thinks--he's read the submissions, right--he knows the things they say about Eddie, and he wishes it was true, he wants--he wants--

He wants

---

Steve's running late to check the locker. Lost track of time at the diner with Eddie, and it's making him panic.

He stuffs the submissions haphazardly into the pocket of his hoodie, dancing with nerves, willing himself to grab them all and get out.

Locker emptied, he sprints towards the exit. He has a second to process someone barreling towards him in the dark, but he's going too fast to stop, can only brace himself as they collide.

It sends him sliding across the floor, Tattler submissions spilling out of his pocket like snow. He hits the ground, scrabbling for the papers, praying that whoever is here with him can't see them in the low light.

Hands grips his biceps. "Stevie, Steve, we have to get out of here" and there's a second where he's comforted by the familiar rasp of Eddie's voice before terror spikes again.

He pulls himself from Eddie's grasp, searching for any dropped submissions in easy reach. "Wha--why--what's--"

"I ran into Jason Carver and his band of idiots at the gas station. They're on their way to here to try to catch the Tattler in action."

Steve freezes. "I don't--that's not--I--"

In the deep silence of the empty school, they both hear the slamming of a door, a bitten off giggle. Eddie grabs his wrist and they run. Into the theater room, through a door Steve didn't know existed, to the backstage area of the auditorium.

"You should be safe here," Eddie says.

Panic spirals through him. "I can explain. I was just--I forgot a--I needed--"

"Harrington! I know, okay? I already know."

Steve can only blink at him, swallows rough in his throat. "What--Eddie, I--"

"I saw you. Weeks ago. Forgot my notebook in the theater room after Hellfire and had to run back for it. You were there, at the locker."

"You can't tell anyone."

"I'm not going to."

"No, Munson, you really can't. Nobody can know. Nobody--"

"Swe--Stevie, I promise. The secret's safe with me." He rocks back on his heels, chewing on his lip for a second before he continues. " I--I couldn't figure you out, you know? I saw you around with those kids and it didn't make any sense. King Steve, babysitting tiny nerds? But I saw you at the locker and..."

"You're giving me too much credit, man."

"I don't think so. You're never--fuck, Harrington--you're never mean. At least, not in the last couple years. You spread gossip, but you don't punch down, and you're funny as hell. Mean as shit too, but only to the people who deserve it."

His ears burn and he looks down. "Just because I have fucking--fucking editorial standards doesn't mean that I'm anything special."

Eddie scoffs. "Remember, Stevie, I was reading it a year before you were here. Cruel, vapid garbage. Always the most vile, pointless stories about people who couldn't defend themselves. And how many submissions have you gotten about me, for instance, that you've never used?"

Steve clenches his fists. "I would never--"

"I know. Sweetheart, I know. That's why I li--You're so fucking good, Stevie."

He laughs, ears burning. "I'm really not, Eddie. I try to write about fun gossip that can't hurt anyone too much, and nobody's found me out because they think I'm too dumb--"

Eddie reaches out then, fingers connecting softly with the edge of Steve's jaw. He can't help but lean into the touch, eyes flickering closed.

"You don't want to hurt people because you're fucking kind. You know how I know for sure? You must get submissions every week about me, and you've never once printed that I'm--" Eddie stops then, swallowing hard.

Steve's throat goes tight. He rests his hand over Eddie's, still holding his face. "Me too," he whispers. "Kind of. I like--it's both. For me."

"Oh," Eddie breathes, mouth lifting in a bright, beautiful smile that Steve can't help but return.

He's watching, sees when Eddie's gaze drifts his lips, making his breath hitch. He doesn't really think about closing the distance between them, slotting their mouths together in a tentative, gentle kiss.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you, Steve Harrington? Eddie asks when they part.

Steve blushes. "That's sort of the last of them."

"Sure. Next you'll be telling me you've played dnd."

"I have a character."

"What???"

"Human paladin. Dustin worked on it with me. Ready to get out of here?"

"Human paladin," Eddie gapes. "You know--you said--what's happening?"

Steve twines their fingers together, leading Eddie towards the auditorium exit. "Well, first we're going to walk out to my car and then we're going to my house, and we're going to look through Tattler submissions. Maybe makeout a little bit."

Eddie giggles. "What the fuck? Like. What the fuck, sweetheart?"

He turns to face Eddie, smile big and pure and bright with happiness. "If you're really nice to me, I'll let you help write this week's issue."

"Oh, oh. You're going to wreck me." Eddie mumbles, almost to himself.

"If you're lucky." Steve beams.

[samsmissingshoee]

ANGEL — SAM WINCHESTER.

SUMMARY — sam starts to grow fond of an angel. they have grown more comfortable around each other, and tensions run high when dean leaves for a bar.

WARNINGS — no plot all porn... 18+, softdom!sam, unprotected sex, p in v, oral, f!receiving, unexperienced!reader, angel!reader, LOTS of praise, biting, creampie, mentions of religion, sam's a sweetheart. he's also a freak.

WC — 4.3k. i got carried away.

A/N — i feel like i'm going to hell just from the warnings alone. i erm. i don't even know. shout out the two people who asked to get tagged in this 🙏 first ever smut fic, if you hate i'll probably delete my account. i am not editing 4.3k words btw. i'm lazy.

angels weren't supposed to enjoy the feeling of a human. that much was well known.

and when you came from heaven to assist castiel in whatever the hell it was that he was doing, that was repeated to you over and over again. these 'humans', they weren't important. your only job was to make sure sam winchester didn't get hurt. that was all this was supposed to be. a casual round of protecting the winchesters.

you didn't understand human norms, and at first, sam didn't like you. you didn't take personally, of course, because, well, sam hated any angel at first. castiel quickly explained to you about the brother's and how you'd be spending more time with them while he awaited directions. honestly, you couldn't care less about either of the brothers, too. they were hunters, and you were an angel. you weren't supposed to mix anyway.

sam winchester was more interesting than his older and shorter brother, though. sam was thoughtful and a lot more curious about you than he let on at first. as you spent more time 'watching' over him, you realized he enjoyed asking you questions about heaven, and the angels, and about castiel. and you tried to answer them to the best of your ability.

sam was more open to learning about you than dean, and he was more considerate when it came to teaching you knew things. slowly, he started defending you against dean's antics, and he learned about how curious you were, too.

he spent many late nights awake with you, struggling with his insomnia. you made it much more enjoyable. on the off chance that he did get some sleep, he'd wake up to you in the bunker, lounging and reading one of his books. as soon as you saw him awake, you'd pounce on him, eager to talk all about it.

sam found you endearing in the same way you found him intriguing. you both taught each other different things. he taught you about different emotions and how to communicate them to him. he showed you his favorite movies. he told you about his time in standford and about how he was studying law. you taught him about the bible, about praying and how you'd always come if he prayed for you. you taught him about heaven and hell, and angels and everything in between.

eventually, you two become friends, as much as younger sam would have hated to admit that. he showed you what friendship was and what it was like to worry about someone more than yourself. he explained to you what love was and about heartbreak. sam watched as you turned from this unemotional, blunt angel into a person, crafted by the things you loved.

you two kissed about six months after hunting with him. you were unexerienced, and painfully so, and your first kiss was nothing but giggles and awkward stares. the second, third, and fourth ones weren't any better. sam was ridiculously dotting and patient, and even though you were an angel and didn't understand what a relationship was, you still tried for him, and he loved you for it.

after a week of sneaky kisses and rushing into each other's rooms once dean fell asleep, you seemed to have gotten the hang of it. you and sam hadn't done anything remotely sexual other than a few hands-under-the-bra's and one /bad/ attempt at a handjob. sam was enthralled in watching you become more confident and learning how to touch him the way that he liked and how to kiss him properly. so he didn't mind taking things slow.

you two agreed to not have sex yet, partially because to you, it was a sin, and partially because you didn't know what you were doing. sam had no issue waiting. that was, until tonight.

you don't even remember how this happened, honestly — the lingering touches became more frequent, more needy, and at some point, sam had slipped you out of your shirt and bra. you'd barely even made it to his room /thank god for dean being out at a bar tonight/, before he was kissing you, his lips hiding something more intense tonight.

you wouldn't have protested anyways, but as soon as your shirt was gone, sam was all over you.

"i know it feels dirty, honey. but it's not. i wouldn't lie to you." sam hums against your throat, kissing the soft skin. when he talks like that, all low and soothing, you might just believe anything he says. he pulls back to look at your concerned expression, and his smile softens.

his movement stills, and you frown, almost wishing sam would convince you to do more. that feeling in your stomach, the one that felt close to nausea, started to feel nice. and you craved more of it. you craved more of sam.

although his desire outweighed his guilt for ruining the purity of an angel like this, sam still sat up for a moment, his hazel eyes practically begging you. he was nothing, if not a gentleman. "do you want this?" sam asks, hushed and spoken like a prayer, and you think you might get sent to hell just from how he's looking at you.

sam's hair is a ruffled mess, and his long sleeve black shirt was rolled up to his elbows. his carhartt jacket had long been discarded by you, tossed somewhere into the dark abyss that was the dingy, horribly lit motel room. he looks beautiful.

"i do, sammy, but—" you breathe out shakily. before you can finish answering, his hands are on your hips, tugging you closer to him. you're both standing up, his large hands moving up your skirt to trail up your sides. sam can feel your back arch against his hands slightly, and it's taking everything in him to not lose his resolve.

san, who previously said he was okay with waiting, felt like a selfish man tonight. he could honestly care less about your innocence right now. what he did care about was you, though. sam knew that if you wanted him to continue, he wouldn't be able to stop.

"but what?" sam mumbled, his fingertips digging against your hips. his erection was pressed dangerously against your thigh. he shifted you until you were pressed against him — he knew what he was doing and the effect it was having on you. you didn't answer and could only grumble a complaint out.

"just needa taste you, honey. we don't have to go all the way if you don't want to." sam's words are a contradiction to how he was staring at you. "although, i have thought about doing more." he hums, and he has a slight shit eating grin on his face. it's sort of surprising that this is your sweet sammy.

you're conflicted— this is wrong. sinful. but there was a bubbling heat in your stomach, and you wanted nothing more than to make sam feel good. maybe a part of being human was indulging in your sins. you pout at him slightly, and sam has to stop himself from moving his hips up against you. he doesn't just want this, he needs this. he needs to corrupt you, to ruin your innocence until all you can think about is him.

"fine. be gentle, though, sam. i mean it." you relent, although you didn't need much convincing. honestly, if he tried to pull off of you, you'd be the one begging him to touch you and not the other way around.

"oh, fuck—" sam groans, and he almost instantly falls to his knees. his hands are tugging off your jeans faster than you can process. "you don't know how long i've wanted this." his tone makes you feel dirty, and you can't help when your brows crumple into a slight glare. you didn't know what he was doing, but you wanted him to hurry it up.

you help him kick your jeans off around your ankles and step out of them. you're left in your cotton panties, and for some reason, it turns sam on more to know you weren't planning for this. honestly, neither was he.

"leave these on." two fingers slip underneath the elastic by your thigh, tugging them and letting them go, the fabric snapping against your skin. the action makes you suck in a breath. sam's lips make their way to your upper thighs, sucking and kissing at the sensitive skin. it's not enough, and he knows that. he's driving you crazy on purpose to see you squirm for him.

"sam—" you chastise, like a scold, your hand running through his hair and tugging on it gently, trying to bring your hips closer to him. sam fucking moans. he moans at getting his hair pulled, and it makes your brows crease in bewilderment. /you would definitely be keeping that in mind./

sam looks up at you with those same puppydog eyes, and you swear you're going to burst into literal flames and have your wings removed instantly. "needa taste my girl's pussy. y'gonna let me?" sam says softly, his voice muffled by your thigh, gently biting on a spot. when you whimper, he pulls back to kiss at the forming bruise, his hands massaging at the fat of your ass.

truth be told, you'd probably let him fold into a pretzel at this point, but you didn't want to stroke his massive ego.

the noise you make is answer enough, and sam deftly pulls your panties to the side. his hand brings yours to hold them. he needs *both* hands for devouring you. sam's two middle fingers move to collect your slick from your folds, and you shiver. his brows raise, and he smiles again. "you're soaked, baby. you really want me that bad?" he asks, and you're nodding quickly.

sam can't hold back when you look this pretty above him. you can feel his breath against you. even just looking at you bare in front of him is enough to make him want to cum in his fucking jeans.

he flattens his tongue against you, and your hips stutter against his mouth. you've never felt anything like this before. you can feel sam's grin against your cunt, his hands cupping into your ass and pulling your hips further into his mouth.

seeing such a large man, especially one like sam, at his knees, lapping at your pussy like a fucking starved man— it makes your head fuzzy.

without warning, his middle finger slips into you. your hands move to his hair to steady yourself, massaging at the brown strands, pushing some from off his sticky forehead. the concentration on his face is almost cute, but it soon becomes too hard to keep your eyes open.

another finger slips past your folds, and you're mouthing his name like a prayer. his fingers are rocking into you at a slow speed, but his mouth— it was fucking dirty, the way he'd suck on your clit, only pulling away to breathe. everytime he pulled away, a string of saliva followed, connected between you two. his chin was slick with your arousal, his chest panting with heavy breaths. and then he was right back to devouring you.

maybe sam winchester was the devil.

your hands tug on his hair slightly, and sam groans against you. the heat in your stomach was building and sam was near drunk on your pussy. when he looked up at you with those hazel eyes, you moaned, your thighs tremoring.

"sam— sam, it feels too good... please—" you breathed out, panting too now, and sam didn't relent, no matter how hard you were tugging at his hair. his hand was holding your hip hard not daring to let you squirm away from him. indents of his fingertips would ruin your pretty skin by the morning. you had to shy away from his intense gaze.

sam pulled away, still fucking his fingers into you. "eyes on me, baby." he mumbled, before sinking flush against your clit again. you listened, although your face was an embarrassing hue of pink. sam was just as loud and needy, if not worse than you. everytime your thighs clenched around him, or you tugged on his hair, profanities and groans slipped from his lips. he needed you.

sam kept his tongue latched onto you, his eyes showing that he was as desperate as you were to make you cum. the noises he was making were filth, soft grunts and groans, all muffled by your puffy pussy. when your eyes flickered down, you noticed that one of his hands were palming himself through his jeans.

with every shake and spasm, it was like sam knew you were close. he was using his hands to rock your hips more onto his tongue, your weight practically suffocating him. sam would gladly die a happy man in between your folds, if it meant getting to look up at your beautiful face contorting in pleasure. his chest swells at the fact that he is the one who gets to touch you like this.

that feeling returned as quickly as it left, and soon you were cumming on his face, your legs shaking as he kept his fingers curled into your folds. that was probably the best thing you'd felt since coming to earth. sam pressed a kiss to your overstimulated clit, before kissing up your stomach, your breasts, collarbone, and finally standing to his full height over you.

"how was that?" sam asks, licking the wetness off his fingers. as much as he wanted to ruin you, he also wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

heavy pants still wracked both of your bodies, your thighs aching and barely able to hold your own weight. he had the audacity to ask that after making you feel things you hadn't felt in your centuries alive? in between deep breaths, you shot him a slight glare.

"what do you think?" you tutted, puffing his lips out in that gorgeous pout that made sam was to kiss you stupid, holding onto his biceps so you didn't lose balance.

sam grins in response, his hands moving to your bare hips, pressing you into him. his cock was fucking painfully hard and he had to refrain from rutting against you. "i need to fuck you, honey." fuck sam and his beautiful eyes, pleading at you. his hand leads your to palm him from over his jeans, and he moans softly, so prettily.

you were conflicted. you knew his cock would feel so much better than his fingers, but this was wrong. "sammy—" you say in the same chastising voice that drives him insane.

"please, let me fuck you. need to feel you around my dick. fuck, doesn't even have to be all the way." sam pleads, and you have a hard time saying no to that. he was practically begging you. you sigh at how weak you were for this man. "please fuck me, sam."

sam eyes widen slightly, and he can't help his grin as he pushes you back against the bed. his eyes stay on you as he pulls his shirt off, discarding it across the motel floor along with all of yours. you can't help but stare at him. all tanned, scarred, and bruised, despite being young. it was so different compared to your imperfect skin, free of any blemishes or let alone scars.

sam's tantalizingly slow as he takes off his belt, followed by his jeans. he's fucking huge. that much you can tell by his bulge alone. your eyes widen slightly when he strips his boxers off.

he wanted to take his time with you, to treat you like the goddamn angel you were, to wrack every noise he can from your lips. but, sam was impatient as hell. and he was really, really hard.

"you're beautiful." sam coos, caging you in between his much larger frame. there is a shine in his gaze, so soft and loving, that it almost makes you feel queasy. he's not doing this because he's bored or because he wants to get off. sam's doing this because you're his world.

"you're alright." you respond, not able to hold back the giggle that escaped your lips afterward, especially when you felt sam's annoyed sigh against the crook of your neck. you can feel his irritated grin. sam fell in love with that devilish laugh of yours, and he found it endearing that even during this, he could make you sound like that.

it was such a sharp contrast from how emotionless and... awkward— you first were when you met the winchester brothers. sam has loved watching you adapt this sassy personality, loved eyeing you while you admire new things, hearing the way your voice heightened whenever you laughed, the way you took over parts of his and dean's own quirks and personalities.

"just alright? you wound me, angel."

this time, you rolled your eyes. you turn your head to the side to press your lips against the mole below his right eye. "you're beautiful too, sammy. you already know that." you huff out, your tone unmistakably soft. sam scoffed, nipping at her neck slightly. it was nice to hear that from you, regardless of what he thought about himself.

unfortunately for you, the compliment rushes to sam's head. he sits up slightly, his cock pressed against your lower stomach, a hand brushing over your cheek, moving your fanned hair out of your face. "are you sure you're okay with this? we can stop— i'll put on a movie, and we can forget—"

you interrupt sam's worries by pressing a kiss to his palm. "yes sam, i'm sure. please." and that small act of intimacy followed by your voice pleading for him was enough reassurance for sam. no need to tell him twice.

sam pumps himself a few times, his eyes not once leaving yours. "scoot your hips up for me, honey." you oblige, and you can feel his cock pressed against your clothed entrance. the sight leaves nothing for the imagination and sam sighs as his fingers pulls your panties down to your ankles.

sam looks like he's in fucking heaven, his lips parted and staring at you bare in front of him. his thumb habitually moves to your clit, rubbing soft circles against it just to watch you squirm under him.

"sam, quit being a damn tease." you frown and wiggle your hips into his more. his gaze is making you shy, something you didn't know was even possible as an angel.

"innocent angel, my ass." sam mumbles under his breath, but he obliges, lining up his cock to you. he collects your slick with his tip, dragging the wetness over your already overstimulated clit. sam rubs it against your folds a few times, before pressing only about halfway in. the moan that leaves your lips is heavenly, so much so that sam's head has to fall to your shoulder and bites it softly so he doesn't cum too fast like a damn high schooler.

"you're so fucking tight, shit—" sam groans and it's so dirty coming from him. he's usually so sweet to you, so hearing this is different. and arousing. but different. you'd expect this talk out of dean, not sam.

sam really wished he would've slept around a little more in college now because it was taking far too much concentration to not finish already.

"need to fuck you, baby. please." sam all but whimpers out. all of your beliefs, your nightly prayers, all of it was gone the second you felt him inside of you. you can only nod in response, your hands tugging at his waist to come closer to you.

sam stills, looking at you for a moment like he can't believe you want this. and slowly, he pushes in all the way, and you both share a pornographic moan.

sam is quiet as he lets you adjust to his size. he wasn't one to toot his own horn, but he was pretty big. and even though your vessel wasn't a virgin, mentally, you still were. sam had a mantra of things going through his head — the main ones being: please don't cum, please don't cum, please don't cum. don't say i love you. don't move too fast yet. let her adjust.

sam leans down to kiss your forehead. "good?" he hums.

you nod again. "hurts a little." and sam is nothing but patient, kissing each of your temples before brushing your hair away.

"i promise you're doing so good. it's gonna hurt for a moment. it'll feel better soon. just relax." sam murmured against your shoulder, his lips sighing down towards your collarbone. "gonna move now, sweet girl." calloused palms are pressing your thighs to your chest. he leans down enough so you can hold on to his shoulders if you need.

with one hand still on the back of your leg, and the other one cupping one of your breasts, he pulls out almost all the way before rocking in slowly. your eyes screwing shut from pleasure is enough to test the waters with a more heavy thrust. "that's it, baby. look at you—" sam groans, his fingertips digging into your skin. his eyes were glued to where his cock was entering you rhythmically, and god, he could get addicted to that sight. sam could fucking see where the tip of his cock was pressing into your belly. his palm moved over it, adding slight pressure to your lower pelvis. the feeling made him groan out your name softly. he was just as loud as you were. "so beautiful."

part of you wanted sam to shut up so you could focus on the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock, but the other half of you enjoyed the flithy words leaving his flushed lips.

"oh, fuck. sammy, 's too much—" you whimpered out, your hand squeezing his biceps. your legs wrapped around his waist to bring him closer, the balls of your heels digging against his ass. sam think he likes that you're not very vocal. it makes every beg, every moan that much more special to him. he was the only one who got to see his angel falling apart like this.

everything about sam is fucking massive, from his height, to his sheer size difference over you. it shouldn't have been shocking that his dick was huge too, but you felt it now. you felt every single inch, stretching you out, your arousal slipping down his shaft. sam's thrusts grew more feverish, his shaggy brown bangs falling into his face as his head fell forward slightly. "i know you can handle it baby." he grunted in response to your plea, hazel eyes fucked out with lust.

that feeling in your lower belly returned, and now, at least, you know what it meant. it was overwhelming, but not enough for you. your hand reached for sam's hand, guiding it to you clit. sam thought that was the hottest thing he'd ever fucking seen, and shuddered slightly. "you wanna cum around my cock? is that it, sweetheart?" sam asks, a small, contemplating smile on his lips.

you're writhing under his cock, your back arching off the bed, his thumb rubbing soft circles around your nub. you tap his bicep in warning of your approaching orgasm, but he doesn't stop. he doesn't slow down either. in fact, he ruts his hips faster. the feeling of you clenching around his dick is enough to send him over the edge, too. he's biting down hard on his cheek to stop himself from cumming before you. he wants, needs to see you cum first, before he can.

your face contorts into pleasure, and you cum hard, sam still fucking you through your orgasm. he groans and his eyes close when he watches you making a mess all over him. "thaaat's it. that's my girl." he encourages, the feeling of your walls clenching around him tipping him over the edge. "fuck. gonna fill you up." he grunts against your shoulder, his hips stuttering slightly and you moan as you feel his cock twitch inside you, before you feel cum spurt into your cunt.

sam pulls out a moment after, his eyes blown out when he watches his spend leak from your pulsating hole. he uses two fingers to spread it around over your folds. once he's satisfied with his handiwork, he slumps down into the bed next to you.

you're still a panting, sighing mess. you feel your legs twitch occasionally, and you're finally coming to your senses. you were just fucked stupid by your best friend. a human.

"jesus, sam. is this really what humans are doing?" you ask, out of genuine curiosity, and sam pinches your side with a slight laugh. he looks spent, almost as bad as you. his head falls to your shoulder, pressing his lips to the soft skin present.

"the lucky ones, yeah." sam huffs in amusement. "you're okay, right? i didn't hurt you, or pressure you or anything?" his voice is a little persistent, worried, already overthinking like he wasn't just inside of you.

"'course not. that was amazing. i think i'd go to hell if it meant having sex everyday— i see why castiel was encouraging me into trying this." you tilt your head to the side, and sam raises an eyebrow. he didn't even dare ask what odd things castiel told you about. nor did he want to know. he couldn't see castiel doing anyone without scaring them away with his bluntness first.

sam chooses to ignore that, leaning over to pepper kisses onto your cheeks, nose, and forehead. anywhere you'll let him at this point. "you did amazing. absolutely drained me. y'sure you haven't done that before?" he teases, and you roll your eyes at him. your eyes watched him with concern when sam stood.

"alright, crazy girl. let's get you cleaned up."

[oatmealaddiction]

This is an interesting thing I'm noticing as I'm reading but it kinda seems to me like a lot of the Tolkien characters all seem to have elemental symbolism that seems to follow their characterization.

Like Gandalf and Bilbo both seem to have a lot of fire symbolism that follows them around. Gandalf uses light and fire as kind of his two go to weapons and he's the keeper of the ring of Narya which is the fire one. And of course Gandalf the White is forged out of flame. And then Bilbo's introduced in the middle of smoking, and he spends a lot of time hanging around campfires and hearths, like the campfire storyteller he is. He seems to like hanging out in the Hall of Fire at Rivendell, and his conflict with Smaug obviously also involves a lot of fire. He's also arguably the character who is closest to Gandalf.

Frodo on the other hand is like all water imagery. One of the first things we learn about Frodo is his parents were weirdos who hung out in boats and then drowned, and he's introduced filling drinks at Bilbo's party. He makes his stand against the Nazgul at the river. He himself nearly drowns like three times in the story, and spends a lot of time in boats, being haunted by dark waters, and the sound of the ocean (and of course ends the story going over the sea). Like the water symbolism with Frodo is nonstop and he shares that in common with Gollum, who specifically is characterized by pools, rivers, and lakes, as well as fish, worms, mud and roots and caves—very wet and slimy compared to Frodo's more mariner/wayfinder imagery. But they're still kind of two sides of the same coin.

Pippin and Merry get a lot of plant and tree symbolism. Besides hanging out with ents and drinking tree wine and that time they both got eaten by a tree, it's clear Merry grew up wandering forests and knows a lot about wild plants (and writes a book on it later) and Pippin gets a ton of association with Gondor, y'know, that place that is represented by a big ol' tree. Their tobacco leaves too actually kinda play a pivotal role, and are again, very plant focused.

You'd think Sam would also be more earth oriented, being he's a gardener, but not really? Unlike Merry who's out here spitting plant facts 24/7 and working on his plant book, Sam's interest in plants seems like to only be around when he's on the clock. His symbolism is all very celestial. He's the guy who ends up using the Star of Earendil. He sees Earendil while he and Frodo are walking through Mordor. He evokes Elbereth, the Star Goddess like multiple times. He names his daughter after the star-sun shaped flower Elanor which literally means "Sun and Stars." And if you think about it, Gardener is actually kind of a perfect role for a star-guy when you remember how dependent plants are on the sun. He also seems to share some kind of connection with Galadriel who is also caked in a lot of star imagery. It also tracks he'd be paired with Frodo thematically as he serves as a guiding light to a mariner, in contrast to how Gollum represents the depths.

IDK what all that means, I just think it's neat!

[juney-blues]

June Egbert is, and always has been incredibly fascinating to me because of just, how many factors have conspired to make Homestuck fans show their collective transmisogynistic asses.

The main character of Homestuck transitioning is a planned future plot point for the official continuation of homestuck, that was spoiled in advance by a fan making a joke about finding some toblerones Andrew Hussie the author of homestuck hid in a cave.

The current main writers of Homestuck: Beyond Canon have went on record in an AMA confirming that this was indeed always the plan, even before they took up the project.

In spite of these facts, the general consensus among certain homestuck fans seems to be that "June Egbert" is purely a headcanon for the original comic that was "made canon" by a "Toblerone Wish" (a concept that didn't even exist at the time)

For a variety of reasons, the "canonicity" of the postcanon official continuations of homestuck is a mattter of much debate, (though a debate that most homestuck fans seem to err on a side of "it's not canon at all in the slightest," something the writers have feelings on I'm sure.)

All of these factors combined leave the concept of "June Egbert" in a very nebulous place. It's assumed by most to just be an "ascended headcanon" that was shoehorned in, it's a spoiler so it hasn't happened yet in any official media, and the official media it will eventually happen in is regarded by some to be nothing more than glorified fanfic.

If someone is talking about June Egbert, and you don't like the concept of June Egbert, you have your pick of a million different excuses for why she's fake and gay and not worth discussing and bad writing and just the authors doing a gay dumbledore*, paying lip service to representation while actually doing nothing.

And of course, lots of people *don't* like June Egbert! Rather than being introduced as transfem from the start, she's in this nebulous position of discovery where people have to truly reckon with the idea of a "Pre-transition Trans Woman."

You can try to write off *some* of the backlash as transphobia, because obviously not everyone in this fandom is gonna be cool about trans people.

But there's no shortage of fans just dying to tell you about how much they like reading her as transmasc, or the idea of her being nonbinary or genderqueer or genderfluid, or literally anything besides a trans woman. And since they're fine with all those other interpretations, there's obviously no implicit biases driving their distaste for the concept! (if you want to try explaining the concept of "transmisogyny" to people like this you're braver than I.)

you can trust them when they say it's *just* a problem with whether or not it makes sense with the writing, or it just doesn't feel right somehow, or any of the thousands of excuses that this writing situation gives them to just Not Like It.

It's just, so interesting to me. There's not a lot of characters out there that get a trans arc in this way, that leaves room for open denialism and insistence that we have our trans cake and eat it too... Because Homestuck is a timeline spanning multiverse story, lots of people seem to want it to be an alternate timeline thing. Assuring us we can have this character share space with a non-transitioning version of herself and it won't be weird or imply gross things about trans people.

If you ask me it feels like a plotline that'd be really good for exploring some gender horror though, finding your true self and then being demoted to a footnote, an alternate version, because everyone around you likes your pre-transition self more....

Anyway I have no broader point beyond "hey look at this isn't this kinda weird. You don't get this kinda stuff often!"

*side note: it's a little ghoulish I think to compare "a future trans plot point that hasn't been given the chance to even happen yet, in an already famously queer piece of media, from a nonbinary author" to "some stupid shit done by the literal most famous transphobe of all time" but that's perhaps a discussion for later.

[flowersforbucky]

acquainted

bucky barnes x reader (undercover stripper!reader x undercover bodyguard!bucky)

word count: 3.3k

warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (male and female receiving), vaginal penetration, language, strip club setting, creepy dude being a piece of shit, violence and a brief mention of blood, protective/possessive bucky, reader is afab, no use of y/n, touch her and die trope, Bucky might have a slight lingerie kink... 18+ only!

The pulsating fuschia and lime green strobe lights illuminating the club had been making your eyes throb for the last three hours. EDM plays so loudly that you're surprised blood doesn't trickle down from your ears. Not to mention the suffocating combination of cheap perfume, body odor, cigars, and booze that permeates the air makes your empty stomach churn.

If you never step foot into another nightclub when this is all over, you'll consider yourself lucky. Not just any nightclub - one of New Orleans’ scummiest strip clubs.

Five goddamn nights of this operation and not a lick of progress.

Your objective was simple - obtain proof that the owner was operating a sex trafficking ring out of the club, and then call for the back-up squad parked a block away. So far, you had not been able to acquire any kind of definitive proof. No hints of anything shady going on behind the scenes, and you had yet to even see the owner make an appearance at any point since the mission began.

Everything seems as above board as a strip club can be.

One last night, you compromised with Fury. One last night and if it went as the last few have, you were done, and he owes you a few days of paid leave for putting you through this.

“If you don't stop picking at your garter belt, it's not going to have any sequins left.” Bucky's low voice murmurs through the communication device placed discreetly in your left ear.

“If you don't stop watching my every movement, you’re not going to have any unbroken toes left,” you threaten lightly, taking a sip of your drink - just a Shirley Temple, to keep up appearances. “Shoes like this could do a lot of damage.” You glance down at the pointy heels of the black velvet stilettos.

“Is that not my job?” he counters. You don't have to look over at where he's standing in the corner of the room to know he's smirking. “To not take my eyes off of you?”

“Then do your job. Watch me. You don't have to make comments on my sequins to do that.”

“Alright, alright,” he concedes. “I'll be over here, admiring your sequins from afar. You won't even know I'm here.” The com line clicks off before you can retort.

Except you absolutely would know that he's here. Just as you have the previous four nights of this mission - painfully aware that he's here, tracking your every movement in the skimpiest outfits you've worn in your life, doing the most provocative dances imaginable, and flirting with men that you wouldn't touch with ten foot long poles in real life, all while he keeps to the sidelines in case something were to go wrong.

Keeps to the sidelines and just watches you. Even when one of the dancers approached him to ask if he'd be interested in a private dance once he's off the clock on the first night on the job.

Even when there's gorgeous, topless women crawling on the stage and all but humping the pole in his direct line of sight.

He isn't here to look out for them, of course. He is here solely to keep you safe if things were to go sideways. But you had assumed you would have caught him sneaking glances at the dozen other women at least once by now.

It's almost your turn to go up on stage. You've performed a solo set every night so far, and you still feel every bit as nervous as you did the first time.

You enjoy dancing, actually. In the comfort of your own room, when listening to music alone. When you go out with friends, occasionally. When you took ballet lessons as a child. This, however, was leagues out of your comfort zone.

“The creep from a couple nights ago is back,” Bucky's voice is a strained whisper in your ear.

“Gonna have to narrow it down a bit for me, Barnes. You could be referring to at least half of the men in here right now.”

“Sitting in front of the stage, to the left,” he mumbles back. “He's wearing a red wife-beater–”

“See him,” you interrupt, your eyes zeroing in on the short, stout, beady-eyed fuck who had been thrown out of the club night before last. One of the other security guards on duty chucked him out when he repeatedly got too handsy with one of the girls who had been giving him a lap dance.

“Fantastic,” you huff under your breath, as you finish touching up your lipgloss and reapplying the iridescent baby pink body glitter across your chest. “Just in time for my dance.”

You get up from your seat at the bar and adjust your lace bustier and thong as the announcer calls your stage name.

“He won't lay a finger on you,” Bucky assures you as you're walking up the steps of the platform.

There's a weak round of applause and a few whistles as you take your place on the center of the small stage. You give a vague nod in the direction of the DJ’s booth to indicate you're ready for your song to begin.

An upbeat but sensuous synth-pop song pours out of the speakers throughout the room and you begin to sway your hips.

You're hyper-aware of the fact that you can see Bucky making his way closer to you, away from his position in the back of the room. He settles when he's just a few tables behind the man in the red wife-beater.

There's an eruption of butterflies in the pit of your belly at how close he is. Each night prior to this, he has kept to lingering around the exits and the far wall towards the back of the club. Now, he's close enough that you can actually see his eyes following every languid movement that your body makes around the pole.

“Take your fucking top off!” a grating voice bellows from the audience. “We want to see your tits.”

You don't have to look to know who the voice belongs to. You decide to ignore him, hoping he would stop if you didn't give him any attention. You go to wrap your thighs around the pole again, preparing to spin–

“Did you not fucking hear me?” he shouts even louder this time, audible to everyone over the roaring music. “I said take your fucking–”

A flash of movement in your peripheral vision causes you to freeze around the pole. You turn your full attention to the ruckus, just in time to see Bucky fisting the man's greasy, shoulder length hair and pulling his head back. The music comes to an abrupt pause.

“You don't fucking talk to her like that,” Bucky snarls. “In fact, you don't talk to her at all, you don't look at her, you don't even breathe the same fucking air as her.”

The man is thrashing around, trying and failing miserably to get out of Bucky's grasp.

“Let me go you fucking–”

He doesn't get to finish his sentence before Bucky snaps the man's head forward, sending his face crashing into the granite tabletop.

The instantaneous pool of blood that contrasts so starkly against the white stone snaps you out of your fear-stricken trance.

Bucky pulls his head back up, forcing the man to look up at him.

“It's not my fault she refuses to show off those perfect–”

You all but jump off the stage - miraculously not breaking an ankle in the six inch heels - and rush over to where Bucky still has the man's hair yanked into his fist.

Just as Bucky is beginning to shove the man's head downwards again, you place both of your hands on his chest, gently but effectively shoving him backwards. He immediately releases his grip on the man as the other few security guards on duty arrive to detain the pervert.

“Hey, hey,” you place your hands on his biceps, trying to turn his attention to you and away from the man who he's still glaring after, as he's hauled off by security. “I'm fine, yeah? Everything is fine,” you try to assure him, though you're not sure your shaky voice sounds very convincing. “He's just a creepy, entitled asshole.”

Noticing that Bucky is shaking beneath your touch, you rub your hands up and down his arms in hopes of calming him down.

He finally meets your gaze. He doesn't say anything for a moment, just stares at you as he takes a few deep breaths.

“Go get dressed,” he orders you calmly after a moment. “I’m getting you the fuck out of here.” You want to leave too badly to even think about objecting.

You make a beeline for the changing room, where you throw on a sweater and force your pants over your heels, not even bothering to change out of the lingerie and stilettos.

Bucky's waiting for you right outside the door as you sling your duffel bag across your shoulder.

“How mad do you think Fury will be that we are abandoning our positions?” you ask in a hushed tone as Bucky ushers you through the club, his metal arm wrapped around your waist.

“Not as mad as I am that he's had you doing this bullshit for no reason for almost a week now.”

You and Bucky exit the club as quickly as possible, ignoring the curious and confused stares of the other dancers and security guards. He guides you down the block, then through an alleyway where his motorcycle is parked in a heavy silence - other than the obnoxious clanking of your heels against the pavement.

Bucky straddles one leg over the seat of the bike, taking his place in the driver's position and then hands you the helmet.

“Wait,” you pause before putting it over your head. “I'm starving.” Your stomach growls, as if on cue. “Can we stop and get some take-out?”

He looks at you incredulously. “I just shattered that guy's nose and likely severely concussed him and then just dipped. Our cover is essentially blown, don't you think we should get back to the motel room and lay low until the morning?”

“There's a Chinese place open late just a few blocks from the motel–”

“If I say yes will you put on the helmet and get on the bike?”

Taking that as a win, you slide the helmet over your head and hop on behind him. You wrap your arms securely around his midsection in a tight hug and he takes off down Bourbon Street.

You spend the drive trying to ignore the thought that of all the times you've ridden on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle, you don't remember him ever feeling so tense beneath your touch.

Half an hour later, you're lounging on the rickety motel bed, stuffing your face full of sweet and sour chicken and vegetable fried rice while Bucky fills Sam in on what happened over the phone.

He sits in one of the small chairs at the singular table in the corner of the room, his posture rigid. He answers all of Sam's questions with clipped, one-word responses as he massages his temple between his thumb and forefinger.

He hangs up the phone, refusing to meet your gaze. Instead, he pretends to be interested in the episode of Family Guy playing on the old motel TV.

“Your egg rolls are going to get soggy,” you tell him, pushing the to-go box across the mattress towards him.

“I don't have an appetite right now,” he says, picking up the box of food as he stands. You grab his bicep in your hand as he begins to walk past where you're sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” you say, stopping him. “Everything's okay. Really. Don't let that guy get to you–”

“A little late for that, don't you think?” He snaps, pulling his arm from your grasp. You sit back, too stunned by his reaction to know how to respond. You just stare after him as he crams his take-out box into the motel room's mini fridge.

“I shouldn't have reacted so harshly,” he says after a moment, still facing away from you. “I couldn't stop myself. He spoke to you that way, and I could have killed him and not thought twice about it. Probably would have if you hadn't intervened.”

He turns back to you. You're frozen in place.

“Do you know what that's like?” He asks, taking a step closer to you. “To feel like you aren't in control of your own body? To be so irrationally protective of someone that you'd kill for them without a second thought?”

You feel like all air has been stripped from your lungs. He's just inches away, staring down at you from where you sit on the edge of the mattress. The way he's looking at you makes your skin feel like it's on fire.

“Because that's what you do to me. That's how you make me feel.”

Heat pools between your legs.

“Come here,” you say - it sounds more like a question than a command.

He closes what little distance is left between the two of you, and pulls you up from the mattress by the tops of your arms so that your body is flush against his.

His mouth hovers over yours - not quite making contact, though you can feel his breath fan across your skin.

He takes his flesh hand and cups the side of your face with it, his thumb trailing across your bottom lip. His metal hand wanders down your back until it reaches the curve of your ass - grasping your cheek in a firm hold and squeezing until his touch borders between pleasure and pain.

“This is what I wanted to do to you every time I saw a man so much as glance in your direction in that club,” he whispers against your mouth. “I thought about bending you over the stage and making them watch me take you right then and there, but they didn't deserve to see that.”

“They aren't here to see us now,” you murmur as you bring your hand to cup the noticeable bulge of his jeans, eliciting a hiss from him. “So what are you going to do now?”

There's a dark grin spread across his face. He pushes you, softly but effectively, back down on the bed. You scoot back a few inches on the mattress, and then bring one of your feet up to remove the stiletto heels that you'd completely forgotten to take off upon returning to the motel with your haul of Chinese food.

“Oh, no,” Bucky laughs lowly. “I want you to keep those on. I've grown to like those quite a bit.”

Your cheeks warm in both arousal and bashfulness. You begin to push your pants down your thighs as Bucky kneels on the ground and helps you maneuver the fabric around your shoes. The sweater that you threw over your bustier goes next.

You're left in the lingerie set that you wore at the club.

“Call me jealous,” Bucky sighs as he begins trailing sloppy kisses up the insides of your thighs. “Call me possessive, call me crazy..”

You lay back down against the scratchy comforter as Bucky gets closer and closer to where you're aching to have him the most.

“But I don't want anyone seeing you like this but me.”

He pulls the already soaked lace material of your thong to the side, exposing your cunt.

He licks up your center torturously slow, causing you to let out a sharp exhale. He repeats the motion, and then locks his lips around your clit. Your hands shoot to his hair, fisting your fingers through the short brunet strands.

He eats you until you're a mewling and squirming mess beneath him.

You come hard, clenching your thighs around his head and riding his face through your orgasm.

“Stand up,” you instruct him as soon as you can think semi-clearly.

He obeys without any hesitation. The warm glow of the singular lamp in the motel room highlights the way your slick coats the lower half of his face.

You get up on your hands and knees before him and he lets out an audible groan at the sight in front of him. He bends down enough to kiss you - cupping your face in both of his hands and tipping your head up to give him a better angle to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moan into the kiss - the ache between your thighs reappearing already.

He removes his hands from your face, unbuttoning his pants while still kissing you.

You pull away to help free his cock from the confines of his boxers. Your mouth waters at what's directly in front of you. He's impressively long and girthy, with a thick vein running up the side.

You pump him a few times in your hand, swirling your tongue around the pre-cum dripping from his slit. He's already putty in your hands - groaning above you and placing his metal hand around the back of your neck to keep you where he wants you.

After you've run your tongue up and down his length a few times, you spit on the tip of his cock and massage it over the entirety of his shaft before taking him as far into your mouth as you can in the first go. He throws his head back, moaning your name.

You feel him hit the back of your throat and you gag before pulling back.

He curses under his breath, nudging himself slowly back towards your throat again.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises and you moan around his dick. He gradually increases the speed at which he pumps himself into your mouth, obscene noises echoing off of the thin motel room walls.

When he pulls out, you feel drool running down your neck and mascara-tinted tears leaking from your eyes.

“You're so gorgeous like this for me,” he tells you, and despite knowing that you look thoroughly fucked out, you believe him. “Will you turn around?”

You do as he asks, turning around on your hands and knees. You lower your chest down to the bed so that your ass is angled upwards.

“Jesus Christ,” he grunts under his breath. He grips your hips with both of his hands, yanking you to him. His erection juts against the cloth of your underwear.

He tugs them aside once more, giving him access to tease your slit with the head of his cock. You rock backwards, grinding against him. He brings his flesh hand around your stomach and reaches down to rub your clit as he begins to slowly fill you from behind.

He pauses for a moment once he bottoms out, giving you time to adjust to the fullness of him before he starts fucking into you.

The combination of him slamming into you at such an intense angle and massaging you so perfectly has your climax building shamefully fast.

You grunt his name, bouncing your ass to meet his thrusts. “I'm gonna come,” you mewl, knowing he's on the verge of doing the same as his movements become uneven.

One, two, three more pumps and you can feel your pussy clenching around him as you come together.

You pull off of him, collapsing onto the bed and rolling onto your back. He crawls over you, propping himself up on his arms above you.

“You know,” he stares down at you, his eyes trailing to your breasts that are now spilling out of the black lace bustier. “As much as I hated every second of that mission, I do hope I might get to see you in some of these outfits again.”

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist!!!

[shoukokus]

After chapter 6 I just love the sound of Vil aggressively giving Yuu a signed autographed picture of himself. Yuu is neutral on it but Vil pushes so hard they feel like they have to take it from him.

Yuu: maybe the real autographed picture is the friends we made along the way

prefect/vil schoenheit

Vil never liked to leave a favor unpaid. After Styx where he was admittedly saved, he had a debt. With Rook and Epel, it was simple. He was able to see them regularly, and swoop in when an opportunity presented itself. The Prefect however, was proving to be a challenge.

Every thing he came up with didn't seem right. Simply helping them with schoolwork, the group effort everyone put into Ramshackle, inviting them to dine at Pomefiore... None of it was the correct way in Vil's opinion. It had to be something real, something the Prefect could always see and think of him. In a completely platonic way, of course. Not in a, I'm starting to see you and I like it, way. Obviously...

He hums to himself as an idea begins to form in his mind.

The next day after classes, Vil finds the Prefect in the courtyard with their circle of friends. It was quite impressive, he has to admit, that they found such companionship despite the circumstances. Even Epel, of his own dorm, found solace with the magicless Prefect.

Vil approaches elegantly, standing directly in front of his target as the others watched with baited breath. "Come with me for a moment."

Standing stiffly, they follow, even as a chorus of "oohs" and "they're in trouble," sounded behind them. Turning corners, Vil leads them to a quieter hallway, and finally presents the perfect way to repay the debt.

"Uh," the Prefect takes it, looking a lot less ecstatic than Vil would have thought. "Thank you... what is it?"

That question nearly shatters Vil's perfectly crafted image, but he grits his teeth. They're from another world... they just didn't understand the significance yet. "It is an autographed photo of myself," Vil explains with pride. "From one of my most exclusive magazine shoots. This particular picture wasn't used in the edition, but I kept it, because I look so stunning."

"Yeah..." The Prefect nods as they examine the photo, looking much too confused still. "It's nice."

"N..Nice?" Vil is starting to look a little scary. "That photo alone is worth thousands of thaumarks. With the autograph, maybe triple!"

Something finally seemed to click in their eyes as they looked down at the picture, then back up to Vil. Mouth slightly agape, Vil feels like he's finally gotten through. Until they speak.

"You know I'll help you out anytime, right?"

"You... what?" Vil was flabbergasted at that response.

The Prefect smiles. A dazzling smile so disarming that even he can see the raw charm they possessed. "I don't need anything from you, Vil. I wanted to go to Styx to help, not to..." They gently wave the photo. "Get things from you guys."

This time, Vil was well and truly speechless. They truly were an interesting, little one...

"So, here," they try to hand the picture back. "I don't need a prize for doing what's right."

"Absolutely not." Vil crosses his arms. "Keep it, I insist."

A small pout forms on their lips, and Vil tries not to think of how cute it looks. "Take it, Vil."

Turning his nose away, the Pomefiore dorm leader doubles down. "You are keeping it."

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are."

The back and forth continues, and will probably stay that way for the foreseeable future. At least until Vil find the perfect way to tell them the real reason he wants a picture of himself with them at all times.

[ora-draws]

A little analysis on how Hans & Henry were handled post-ending (heavy KCD2 spoiler alert)

Ok, so I've seen a lot of people talk about how they feel like the ending-part after the siege falls short when it comes to Hansry and leaves out a lot of possible interactions that could have been included.

And I feel you there, although I'm also a big fan of show-don't-tell and leaving things to imagination and interpretation.

However saying we got like a 4 minute romance scene after only being fed crumbs for hundreds of hours does not only fail to acknowledge the crafty subtlety with which their relationship and development has been told over the whole course – it also disregards how impactful the ending actually is.

More under the cut.

In order to put this into perspective, we need to consider not only Hans and Henry, but also the other main romance options: Rosa and Katherine. Rosa happens rather mid-game and while she isn't as mutually exclusive as Kat/Hans, she can be Henry's desired sweetheart by the end if you so choose. Yet whether you do or not, Rosa tells Henry that she considers this a one-time thing, even comes across rather pragmatic about it and tells him off by reminding you that any future is impossible anyway, since he is bastard and she's a nobleman's daughter.

As for Katherine, this is a bit more complicated; she opens up to Henry a bit in the very last moment, they spend an intimate and vulnerable moment together, finding comfort in each other's arms. Yet although she is clearly relieved about Henry's survival and brightens up after the siege, she's more open than set on staying with him, yet implies she'll give it a try. And that's understandable, given her past and circumstances. She even mentions how she doesn't believe she can truly ever be happy again, even if you suggest looking forward. There's a lot of shared trauma here which gives common ground, but is the biggest obstacle at the same time. Apart from that, Kat doesn't bring a lot of baggage, she's a commoner like you, and is just as unbound.

And then we have Hans. Who is not only literally the 'worst' choice Henry could have made in any possible regard considering time period and society, but also a 'lost cause'. We spend half of the ending dialogue with him and Hanush talking about how Henry needs to force him to attend his wedding if the need shall arise. And yet, despite all things given, the moment you can talk privately, Hans doesn't give a second thought to all this. Not only is he genuinely happy and relieved about Henry's well-being: He has no regrets, utters no doubts about what has happend, and the first thing he talks about is how to postpone the wedding as long as possible, even if he cannot avoid it in the end.

He is annoyed, yes, but he doesn't despair about it – and remarks quite clearly that he and Henry will just need to see how things will work out for them. Which is sensible, even if it is also naive. They could never be together openly anyway. But again, it's worth mentioning how even with all that uncercainty, he treats it with a genuine & positive outlook. And – of course – let's not forget that he right away (and happily) jumps onto your offer to take a look at his arrow wound and very bluntly makes the suggestion to find a place which is more private again, showing he wants to be close with you again and stay this way. And Hans – ironically – is the only love interest who does it this way. Which is absolutely heartwrenching and sweet and says a lot, even if we don't get 'much'.

And it is also very very Hans lmao. The second you are alone he's like: Yeah, that's my man, fuck everything, let's go. One has to keep in mind that his heartbreaking Galehaut/Lancelot talk was possibly one of his most vulnerable moments and a rather stark contrast to his usual behavior, because there was just so much at stake. If at all, it shows how much it meant to him.

I see a lot of people depict him as very sensitive, passive or whiny, but honestly, while he can be a spoiled brat and a nuisance, Hans is everything BUT subtle most of the time: he's impulsive, needy, jealous and a short-tempered hothead and it's a very lovely detail this shines through as soon as you are together again. Why? Because it shows how he feels comfortable in his skin and with his choice – and with Henry. Despite everything. This sets him quite apart from the other LIs imo & and all these little details are what make their story and relationship so appealing.

If you've read all of this: Thank you.💚 This is a first for me, I never engaged this much with people online before. I was somehow sucked into this fandom and I genuinely love it, it's an absolutely lovely and welcoming community.

Thanks also to @dill-weeds for chatting about this beforehand, it made me write this down ha.