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#this has no purpose just sharing joy
mayaminamoto · 2 years
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Accessibility to joy
About three months ago I bought a shiny new electric bike for myself. It was expensive. I already had a bike. I didn’t really *need* it, you know. For the love of all that’s good I’m so happy I got it anyway.
You see, we live on a hill. Not very steep one, mind you, but my way back from work is constantly upwards. Our city in general has lots of ups and downs. Which obviously makes biking hard. While I am surprisingly strong, I have very poor stamina. So I could carry the bike up on our second floor in three minutes, no problem, but riding it uphills for half an hour was a challenge. Nevertheless, I tried - I got a job relatively nearby a bit over a year ago, close enough that I could easily get there on a bike! Coming back - not as easy, but still doable! I can do this! Free exercise! Go me! I was fairly exhausted after coming back home, but it was something! It has to get better with time, right?
...and then I twisted my ankle. Badly enough to tear a tendon.
I recovered over winter and yet, when spring came, I hesitated. The ankle never stopped hurting just a bit. It’s wobbly and probably always will. I didn’t really exercise through the winter, so all that progress I got during summer was lost. That sucked. Everything sucked.
Then I learned about e-bikes (or rather some new developments in them, I’ve known about their existence for a while) and got a “huh” moment. Some research and budgeting later, there it was. It’s black. It’s shiny. Heavy but still pickable (by my surprisingly strong arms). And listen. Listen.
I haven’t been this happy about any single one of my possessions in... probably years.
Because you see, on the one hand, I still have to actually pedal in order to turn on the electric support. It’s not fully “motorized”, just gives some more *oompf*. That way I still get some exercise out of it. On the other hand, the goddamn hills no longer leave me exhausted, dripping with sweat and with a migraine on the horizon due to overheating.
I can just... go and ride my bike down to the city centre. No need to wait for the bus, get stuck in traffic for who-knows-how-long or buy tickets. I can go to bookstore, check if there’s a new volume of my mangas. I can go to and back from work without worrying about (truly absolutely horrendous) traffic in our neighbourhood. I can finish errands and then just... ride. Over there. Until I’m bored or an episode of a podcast I’m listening to ends and I can turn around and go home.
I’ve never felt more free. Our city is very car-centric (nowhere near to the american levels thankfully, but still) and I famously can’t drive. Tried, failed several times, decided in the end it might not be a good idea due to eyesight. And now I don’t have to worry about bus routes or asking Irian if they will drive me somewhere, I can go places on my own.
And look, I don’t really have a point in saying all this. I could phrase it as some deep stuff, say that it’s okay to cheat at exercise or something. But in all honesty I just wanted to share the joy. Today I got out of work absolutely physically and emotionally exhausted, it’s been very tough few days and there was a time during the day when I was this close from crying. But then I got on my bike, put the electric support on mode 2 (out of 5) and rode home.
And then rode an extra block, purely because of how much joy it gave me.
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jamesunderwater · 1 year
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okay okay okay okay read on if you want the latest shenanigans of me and the best friend.
pls enjoy a somewhat redacted version of our texts from last night, that culminate in him being the CUTEST, he's literally becoming a marauders fan bc he's my beta for dead to me. all he's ever done is read hp in his early 20s, like a few weeks ago he couldn't remember "who the werewolf was." let me tell YOU, someone actually getting into fandom stuff for your favorite fandom just cause they love you and read your fanfiction for you?????? is?????? THE NICEST CUTEST MOST ATTRACTIVE THING EVER especially if you're autistic. okay rant over please enjoy:
Me: 1. i'm not even tired fml 2. [insert me being anxious about ppl donating for my top surgery, asking for reassurance] 3. Hi idk sorry to be texting you like literally 20 minutes after leaving you 4. i hope you're magically already asleep this is so embarrassing chuck shut uppppp Him: 1. omg i'm so sorry :/ me neither i'm eating rice cakes 2. [insert reassurance and a question abt the donations] 3. you are so fine! omg I wrote out this text and then got self conscious because I wanted to text you something meaningless like right after you left lol: [insert him telling me something silly and cute about his nighttime routine] 4. Up town for REAL Me: 1. [lala st about being in bed] 2. [lala st about donations] 3. okay i feel so much better 💖 and for the record I always love to hear from you and I want all the fun facts. [lala st about his nighttime routine] 4. Are you telling me to shut up? Him: 1. [lala] 2. [lala reassurance lala] 3. 💖!! Love to share love to hear 4. No you GOON, I meant up as in "im awake"! But I see how that came off... Me: 1. 2. 3. 4. Wow so now you want me to shut up AND you're name calling?! Didn't know you could be so cruel, Jacobson Him: 4. Ok I really read that with my last name and all in Sirius Black's voice Me: 4. You read it correctly then Him: 4. !!!!! Me: 4. b. Good to know you have a voice for Sirius Black in your head......almost like you're a marauders fan Him: 4. c. Almost like this literal spectacular novel writer has gotten my mind into having actual personal thoughts/feelings about the marauders moment...feels sinister on his part idk 4. d. (I won't deny what you're saying tho...) Me: 4. e. !!!!!!!!!! 👀👀👀 call me Dr. Frankenstein cause I've created a monster Him: For real!! ✨👹✨ Me: a marauders monster if you will
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t-u-i-t-c · 1 year
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chapter xlvi
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gamebunny-advance · 2 years
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Huwah~
I don't like that it's so difficult to find out who exactly has retweeted my posts.
I don't even get a notif if someone leaves a reply. I feel like that website is basically useless to me.
Edit: Resolved. I'm just a moron, but I'll keep this post up in case I forget how to do this again.
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mrburnsnuclearpussy · 2 years
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I wish so badly that I never started watching Downton abbey because here I am now having near anxiety attacks over a fictional character and it’s just miserable and I want out!!!! This obsession hurts more than it feels good but I can’t get rid of it and idk how 😭
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shameeater · 7 months
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The end of online privacy
Now, this isn't something I usually post about from my silly goofy k1nk account (reminder to minors to not follow or scroll this acount).
But I have more followers on here than main, and this is extremely important. Like, scary shit.
This applies to everyone. If you're reading this? It's going to effect you.
I'm sure perhaps some of you have seen around about a this thing going around... KOSA, is one of the ways it's being referred to.
If this shit passes, lemme tell you...
LGBTQ+ adults and minors seeking help and community,
people looking for abortions,
people organizing protests,
anyone using their free speech to voice concerns about injustices, 
even FAN ARTISTS...
Even people reading fan fiction...
And for the purposes of where I'm posting from... people sharing and enjoying their k1nks, wanting to post things with safety and privacy... smut artists and writers, people even LOOKING for smut...
It's all gone. No privacy.
They'll have your face, your name, your age, where you live.
You'll need an ID to use any US-based platform, even if you're NOT in the United States.
Instead of dooming, here's what you can do to stop this shit in it's tracks 👍
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Here is a website where you can sign a letter just by filling out a form, (it takes less than 30 seconds) and where you can call reps.
I HIGHLY suggest leaving calls if you're able, and if you have phone shyness, do this after 6pm, since it will leave messages instead.
I'm shy, but I did it!
Here's another letter to sign, takes less than 20 seconds.
Here is a form you can fill out sharing how the social media has POSITIVELY effected you.
Share all of this with as many people as you can. Our safety, freedom, joy, and protection online is at risk more than ever.
(Here is the thread where I found all of this information.)
STAY SAFE!
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diejager · 1 year
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any thoughts for yandere!pervy!könig who has to resist from fucking you so hard? knowing you're too weak and fragile to ruin, but palming himself through his pants whilst bathing you, or creeping on you as you sleep!!! 🥹
ignore if you want to!! can be somnophillia/noncon if you want 🎀🩷
How exactly am I supposed to ignore this??? This is such a good idea!
Yan!Pervy roommate König x fem!reader
Cw: Perverted König, dub-con, somnophilia, panty sniffing, panty stealer, scent/musk kink, handjob, tell me if I missed any.
He just can’t believe how lucky he got when you answered the ad for a roommate. He knew you were searching for a place to move in, wanting to move out of your parents’ place as a first step into independence and he’d purposely put the ad out a few weeks before you moved. The rate was low, lower than most apartment would cost - even for a old, beaten flat, but his was new and well-maintained - it was his way of silently coaxing you to room with him. König had declined every other, keeping it open until you finally contacted him.
The days between your first interaction and your move in were a blur in his mind, dazed with ecstasy and joy to be have you at an arm’s length. You were so small compared to him - as most people were - and so weak and fragile, limbs a third to his and as strong as a child in his eyes. You were so innocent and untouched, your tight little cunt still a virgin in this age. You were temptation on two legs.
He can’t remember the first time he peeked through the crack of the bathroom door, the glass shower doing nothing to hide your wet, naked skin as he palmed himself, groaning lowly as he fished out his hardened cock. He pumped himself, hand twisting as he reached the swollen head of his cock, thumb pressing against the leaky slit and using his precum as lube, jerking his hardened length more easily. He came at the thought of running his hands on your skin, kissing your collar and biting that beautiful neck, digging his hands into your thighs as he fucked into your small cunt. He hurriedly cleaned up and tucked himself back into his pants, burying the flush on his skin as he waited for you to finish your shower.
After the first month, jerking off while watching you shower wasn’t enough, he humped your cushion when you were out, dragging his drizzly cock over your bed. Face buried in your sheets, he drinks in your scent, that sweet rose and vanilla smell of your shampoo as he rutted into his tight palm, imagining that he was between your warm walls. König could come at the idea of covering you in his musk, your hair smelling like him, you skin tasting like him, you cunt leaking of him. He came so hard that it spurted all over your bed, his cum was on your blanket, on your bedsheet, on your cushion and on your headboard. Fuck, he loved the idea of covering you and your things in his cum.
When coming in his hand to the sight of you in the shower and your empty bed wasn’t enough, he slipped into your room at night, the only sound in your shared appartient being you soft snoring and his laboured breaths. He stroked himself, teasing his throbbing cock with slow pumps and watching your innocent oblivion to his dirty thoughts while you slept. He was crouched over you, his figure looming over your figure when he came, thighs spread wide over your hips and hand clawing your bedsheet besides your head, you warm breath hitting his wrist.
You’d wake up without knowing why you were coated in crusty substance or why you were missing another panty, your pretty, blue lacy panty gone from your drawer. König would be in his room, holding your pretty lace lingerie over his nose, sniffing it while he pumped himself. God, König couldn’t stop himself from covering your underwear in his load before handing it back to you, saying that he found it somewhere in the house. Then you’d wear it, your sweet cunny over the spot he came on, making him purr in satisfaction, a branding on you in the deepest way possible since he couldn’t bully his cock into you just yet.
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spacelazarwolf · 9 months
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apparently a bunch of ppl on social media are trying to call for a boycott of rick riordan because of this statement in a blog post:
Becky and I are just back from a busy weekend with events at the Boston Book Festival and New York Comic-Con.
Before I get into that, however, some words to acknowledge the ongoing horrors in Israel and Gaza. As many of you may know, I am no longer on social media. My accounts post only updates on my books and related projects. I do not read posts, reply to posts, or share my thoughts about world events on those forums. That doesn’t mean I don’t have strong feelings and reactions. It means I am offline as completely as possible, except for the occasional blog post like this one.
I will say this: Over the last eighteen years, I have received many fan letters from young readers, both Israeli and Palestinian, who often told me that my books helped them escape the fear, grief and anxiety they were dealing with at the time. Some had lost family members to violence. Some were writing while in the distance they could hear explosions, gunfire, and the launching of rockets. They used my books as a way to escape into another world, where the monsters were fictional, and where demigods usually saved the day. While I am always glad that my books can help young readers find joy during difficult times, my heart breaks every time I hear about the things they have to deal with. I am grief-stricken by the horrific events now unfolding, especially because I know that they are part of a long historic pattern that has been robbing too many children of their childhood and perpetuating hatred for far too long.
I am also quite aware that when anyone, myself included, tries to speak about this issue, the reader is waiting to pounce, thinking, “Yes, but whose side are you on?” That is exactly the wrong question. If there are two sides to this issue, those sides are not Palestinian/Israeli or Muslim/Jewish. The two sides are humanitarian and dehumanizing. Dehumanizing has a long evil history. It is appealing and easy to buy into, because humans are tribal animals. We are hardwired to think in terms of ‘us’ versus ‘them.’ We are the real humans, the good guys, the ones with God on our side. Those other people are evil monsters who don’t deserve empathy. Hate mongers have thrived on dehumanizing for as long as there have been humans. It provides them with a purpose, a way to rally support, power, and scapegoats. It is easy to point to atrocities committed by our enemies, while justifying or minimizing the atrocities committed by ourselves or our allies.
Humanitarianism is a much harder sell. It requires us to empathize, to see other groups of people as equally deserving of dignity and quality of life. It requires not always putting ourselves and our needs first. But in the long run, humanitarianism is our only hope. If violence could end violence, if we could put an end to “those other people” once and for all, human history would read very differently than it does.
So yes, I am appalled by the Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians. I am appalled by the suffering of Palestinian civilians in Gaza. Both things can be true. Both things must be true. My thoughts are with all the people who have died, who have lost loved ones, who have had their worlds and their lives shattered, especially the children. More death and violence will not break this cycle, which has been going on for generations. There is no military solution. Even since I first wrote the post, only twenty-four hours ago, the Israeli government’s brutal retaliation against the entire population of Gaza has reached genocidal proportions. This is not only an atrocity. It is folly. Answering misery with misery only creates more fertile ground for extremism, dehumanizing the “other side,” letting hate mongers thrive, stay in power, and reduce us all to our most monstrous impulses. The only real solution is treating each other like equally worthy human beings, and negotiating a peace that allows all parties a chance to live in security and dignity, with hopes for a future that does not include bombs and rockets and gunfire. This means security and support for Israel, yes. It also means a secure Palestine which is allowed to get the international aid and recognition it needs to build a viable state.
Do I think that will happen? Unfortunately, no. Humans are simply too selfish, too ready to blame “the other” for all their problems, too ready to dehumanize, though I also believe, perhaps paradoxically, that most people just want to live their lives in peace and have a chance for their children to have a brighter future. The problem is when we don’t allow other people to have those same hopes and dreams — when it becomes a false choice of us versus them.
What can I do? I will continue to write books that I hope will give young readers some joy. I will resist the urge to demonize entire groups of people. I will call for less violence, not more violence. And when asked whose side I am on, I will tell you I am on the side of humanitarianism.
So with that said, I return to the world of books . . .
honestly, if you have a problem with this statement, it’s probably because he’s talking about you. this is exactly what legitimate activists (as in not just random westerners who share social media posts but on-the-ground activists who are doing real work) have been saying for decades. and i think all this really speaks to just how disconnected a lot of westerners who claim to be pro palestinian are from those activists.
if you can’t read a statement that says “i am on the side of humanitarianism and less violence” without immediately jumping to cancel them, you are the problem being discussed in the above statement.
#ip
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hoshifighting · 3 months
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Producer!Woozi x Celebrity!Reader
— Synopsis: You and Woozi have admired each other's work for a long time. Now, he has the opportunity to produce an album with you. Working on an album for a worldwide artist like you brings him immense joy... and turn-ons. — WC: 4.8k — WARNINGS: Smut, studio sex (Universe Factory), oral (f.receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, aftercare, reader fangirling over Woozi shirtless in Ruby's M/V mentioned.
Your name is splashed across big screens from Times Square to the Grammy Awards. Music didn't just enter your life; it crashed in, loud and powerful, sweeping you off your feet. It became your everything. 
You went from singing in front of millions of people to strumming your guitar alone in a poorly illuminated room, lost in your own world. Music was your passion, your escape, and your purpose all rolled into one.
With that passion came endless opportunities. You were constantly on the move, traveling from one country to another, meeting people you once only dreamed of being in the same room with. You found yourself breathing the same air as your idols, sharing stages with legends. 
Friendships blossomed, some fast and fleeting, others deep and lasting. The world knew your name. Your songs played in every state, on every continent, bridging gaps between different cultures and bringing people together.
Those cultures left a mark on you too. 
You soaked in the richness of each place, each new experience shaping your music and your perspective. You remembered your early days, the hunger for inspiration, the late-night searches for new artists. 
One night, you stumbled upon a webcam live stream with a bunch of boys in a neon green melona room. You laughed and loved watching them, their energy infectious even through a screen. You became a fan, following their journey as you built your own.
But here's the thing about being a superstar: time is never on your side. Your schedule was always packed, and despite being in contact with some of the Seventeen members through DMs and mentioning your admiration for them in interviews, meeting them in person was a challenge. You were in Seoul for a tour once, and they appeared on your show, but there was never enough time to truly connect.
Now, after years of hectic schedules and fleeting encounters, you finally had a moment to breathe. You were working on a new album, and for the first time in a long time, you had the opportunity to switch things up. Your usual producers were fantastic, but this time, something different was calling you. An opportunity was waiting in South Korea, and it had your heart racing with excitement.
You, your manager, and the company representing the group had been in talks for months, working out the details. The goal was clear: to collaborate with Woozi, the musical genius from Seventeen, on your new album. 
When your team informed Woozi that you had just arrived at HYBE, his palms began to sweat. He never imagined he’d get to work with someone of your caliber. The fact that you specifically wanted to work with him made it all the more surreal.
As you walked through the HYBE building, your assistant and one of the staff members gave you a tour. You were almost giddy with excitement. The walls were lined with photos and awards, the air buzzing with creativity. When you finally approached the recreation area and spotted Woozi, his cheeks turned a shade of red. He was nervous, but seeing you smile so brightly at the sight of him sent a sense of relief through his system. 
You were genuinely happy to see him.
As you step into the recreation area and see Woozi standing there, your cheeks flush a deep red. You can’t contain your excitement. "Woozi, I'm so happy to see you," you say, extending a hand, unsure if a hug would be appropriate.
He senses your shyness, and, in a moment of genuine openness, he breaks through his own reserve and gives you an awkward hug. It's brief and a bit clumsy, but it’s sincere. As you pull away, you swear this is the happiest moment of your life.
"I’ve admired your work for so long," you say, your eyes sparkling with genuine admiration. "Your music is incredible."
Woozi shakes his hands in front of him, a shy smile spreading across his face. His long hair swings slightly as he responds, "Oh, no, really, it’s nothing compared to what you’ve done. I'm honestly just honored to be here with you."
You laugh softly, feeling a bit more at ease. "Are you kidding? I still remember hearing your solo for the first time and just being blown away."
Woozi's cheeks tint pink as he looks down, scratching the back of his head. "Thank you, that means a lot coming from you. I remember when we all watched your first big performance. We were in our green room, and we were all just in awe."
You grin, recalling that exact moment you first saw them. "I remember that! I was so inspired by you guys. It’s amazing how things come full circle, isn’t it?"
He nods, his eyes meeting yours with shyness "It really is. I never thought I’d get the chance to work with someone I looked up to so much." Woozi chuckles softly, breaking the silence. "By the way, I saw your post on Twitter about wanting to visit the Universe Factory—my studio."
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you cover your face with your hands. "Oh my God, you guys see my tweets? Oh nooo!"
He laughs, a sound that's both comforting and infectious. "Yeah, they're hard to miss," he admits. "And I may have received a few screenshots of your reaction from 'Ruby'." 
You gasp, mortified as memories of your tweets flood back. You remember typing frantically about needing a defibrillator when Woozi appeared shirtless in the music video. "Oh no, those tweets. I can't believe you saw those."
He’s grinning. "It's okay, really. It was kind of sweet to be honest. We all had a good laugh about it."
Peeking through your fingers, you sigh. "Well, now that my embarrassment is out in the open, I guess it’s only up from here, right?"
Woozi grins, a twinkle in his eye. "Absolutely. Besides, it’s nice to know we have mutual fans of each other’s work. It makes this collaboration even more special."
You nod, recalling how your fanbase and Seventeen’s had always gotten along so well. “Our fans really hit it off, didn’t they? It’s like they’ve been rooting for this collaboration all along.”
Woozi smiles and gestures for you to follow him. “Come on, let me show you the Universe Factory.”
Walking into his studio, you’re immediately struck by how incredible it looks. Purple lights cast a calming glow over the space, and the view from the windows is breathtaking. Everything, from the colors to the high-tech equipment, is perfectly arranged. You can tell he put a lot of effort into making this place special.
“Wow, Woozi, this is amazing,” you say, your eyes wide with admiration. “I always saw photos of your studio, but in person, it’s even better.”
“Thanks, but it’s just a studio.” Woozi’s shy smile returns, but there’s a sparkle in his eyes. “I wanted it to be just right for when you got here. I spent the whole week cleaning and moving things around. Even used some scented sprays.”
You laugh, feeling a snugness in your chest. “You didn’t have to go through all that trouble for me, but I appreciate it.”
He shrugs, his smile widening. “I wanted everything to be perfect.”
Woozi shows you some of the instrumentals he’s been working on, and they’re incredible. The beats blend seamlessly with the lyrics you sent him, and you can already hear the potential for something amazing. He’s practically buzzing with enthusiasm to hear how your voice will mesh with his music.
“Let’s get you in the recording room,” Woozi says, leading you to the booth.
You put on the headphones and glance through the glass at Woozi in the control room. As you start warming up your voice, he watches with a small smile. You can see him scoffing lightly, clearly amused by your funny warm-up techniques.
He presses the intercom button. “I’m definitely going to use that later.”
You sulk playfully, giving him a pout. “Come on, don’t make fun of me.”
He laughs, the sound filling the control room. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just cute the way you warm up.”
Rolling your eyes but smiling, you turn your focus to the paper in front of you. Woozi cues up the beat, and you start with a rough draft, feeling your way through the melody. Even in this initial take, Woozi can’t help but feel impressed. Your voice is powerful, yet it fits perfectly with the track.
You glance up occasionally, catching Woozi’s eyes. He gives you a thumbs-up, his appreciation evident even through the glass. As you continue, you find yourself getting lost in the music, and Woozi’s focus never wavers. When you finish, you look up to see him grinning widely.
“That was just the warm-up?” he says, pressing the button again. “I’m really excited to hear the final version.”
You laugh, feeling a rush of confidence. “Yeah, just the warm-up. Wait till you hear the real thing.”
Woozi nods, eyes gleaming with joy. “I can’t wait. Let’s do this.”
You start to sing for real now, fully immersed in the music. The lyrics flow smoothly, and your voice dances effortlessly over the instrumentals. When it comes to a tricky melisma, you frown slightly, pausing to ask Woozi through the intercom;
"Which tone should I use for this part?"
Woozi, equally focused, listens intently as you demonstrate two different versions. Both sound amazing to him, and he takes a moment to think. He taps his chin thoughtfully before pressing the button. "Try the second one, but start a half-step higher and then slide down smoothly."
You nod, absorbing his suggestion. You take a deep breath and try it his way. The moment you hit that melisma, sliding down effortlessly, the note hangs in the air. Woozi’s eyes light up, and he gives you an enthusiastic thumbs-up from the control room.
As you're in the middle of recording, Soonyoung suddenly appears in the studio, his presence bringing an unexpected burst of energy. You catch sight of him through the glass and wave enthusiastically, a big smile spreading across your face. Soonyoung returns the gesture, his excitement palpable even from a distance. He settles on the couch behind Woozi, watching the two of you work with keen interest.
Woozi presses the intercom button and gives you a nod. "Try going a bit higher for the adlibs."
You nod and sing the section, hitting the high notes while looking at Woozi for confirmation. He listens intently, his gaze dark in focus. “You did so good. That was perfect.”
You can hear Soonyoung’s voice from the back. “He never praises us like that.”
Woozi turns in his chair, giving Soonyoung a deadly glare. 
Soonyoung, unphased, grins and stretches as he stands up. “Alright, alright. I know when I’m not wanted,” he says dramatically, walking toward the door. Just as he’s about to leave, he pauses and turns back. “But after you’re done recording, we’re taking you to dinner Y/N. No excuses.”
You give him thumbs up. Feeling the warmth of their camaraderie. Woozi shakes his head but smiles, turning back to you. 
“Ignore him. Let’s finish this up. You’re doing great.”
After skipping through some tracks, you find yourself sitting in Woozi's incredibly comfortable chair, fiddling with his equipment. The buttons, dials, and sliders are all so intriguing, and you can’t help but feel like a kid in a candy store, discovering new settings and features.
Woozi watches you from a few feet away, arms crossed, a smile playing on his lipsㄧHe knows you’re no stranger to studios and equalizers, but he loves seeing the joy in your eyes as you explore his setup like it’s the coolest thing in the worldㄧHe wonders if your producers ever let you have this much hands-on control.
“Hey, Woozi, how do you tweak the master mix settings here?” you ask, looking up from the console.
He steps forward, moving behind you. His arms come to rest on either side of the chair, effectively caging you in as he leans over to type on the keyboard. 
“You just need to go into this menu,” he says, his voice low and calm. He types swiftly, his fingers dancing over the keys. “Then, adjust the settings here. See?”
You nod, trying to focus on his explanation, but the closeness is overwhelming. You can feel the warmth of his body, his head so close to yours. 
It’s hard to concentrate when you’re not even breathing.
His voice is soft and steady, his breath warm on your skin. You watch his hands move expertly, typing commands and making adjustments with practiced ease. Your heart is pounding so loudly, you’re sure he can hear it.
“And here, you can add some reverb” he continues, “See how that changes the sound?”
No, not when he’s this near.
You nod, feeling a bit dazed. He tells you to try it yourself, and you reach for the adjustment, your hand hovering uncertainly over the controls. Woozi lets go of the mouse and places his hand over yours, guiding it to lower and raise the equalizer. His skin is soft and warm against yours, and the contact almost makes you melt on his chair.
“Like this,” he murmurs, gently moving your hand with his. “Just a little adjustment here and there.”
You can hardly concentrate on the settings, your mind fixated on the sensation of his hand over yours. 
You turn your face slightly toward his, and he looks at you, the proximity between you almost intolerable.
Your eyes lock, and for a moment, the world outside the studio fades away. His gaze is intense, filled with something that makes your breath catch in your throat. Woozi’s hand squeezes yours lightly.
You can feel your pulse quicken. His eyes flicker to your lips for a brief second before meeting your gaze again. The moment stretches, neither of you moves, both caught in the electric current that seems to have taken over the room.
Finally, Woozi clears his throat, breaking the spell but not the connection. "There," he says softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You’ve got it."
As you try to focus on adjusting the settings, Woozi leaves your hand on the side of yours, allowing you to make the changes yourself. You manage to make the adjustments, and as the sound fills the room, Woozi's voice breaks through the silence. "That's it. You're doing great." he praises.
You swear if he praises you again like that, you’re going to fucking wet his chair. You don’t even notice that you’re biting your bottom lip, too lost in the horniness.
Woozi’s words echo in your mind as you try to focus on the task at hand, but it's hard to concentrate with the way his body looks in the black shirt he's wearing. The fabric clings to him in all the right places, emphasizing his toned physique.
Every movement he makes with his hands, seems deliberate and calculated, and you can’t tear your eyes away.
You force yourself to push the distracting thoughts aside, but it's a losing battle.
Your gaze remains fixated on his hands as he places them on the border of the desk, supporting his body. His shoulders brush against the back of your head, and you can feel his presence looming over you. It’s as if he knows exactly what’s passing through your mind.
He brushes a hand over your shoulder, the sensation lingering even after he presses it between his hands in a gentle massage. You feel his lips tentatively brush against the corner of yours.
Caught off guard, you melt into his touch, your fingers intertwining with his as you lean into the kiss. His lips are soft against yours, a perfect match to the warmth of his touch. But when he catches you melting against his hand, he doesn't pull away. Instead, he turns the chair to face him, his hand sliding behind your neck to pull you closer.
His kiss deepens, and you respond eagerly, your hands sliding to each side of his face before tangling in his hair at the back of his neck. The kiss is desperate, as if you’ve both been holding back.
But when you finally break apart, gasping for breath, you realize that you can’t resist any longer. You get up from the chair, his hands desperately grab your waist, pulling your bodies together 
The way he holds your waist makes your tank top bunch up between his fingers, his palms feeling your belly's bare skin. You whimper against his lips, "Hmm, Woozi..."
He pulls back slightly, "Jihoon," he corrects gently, "Call me Jihoon."
Your stomach flutters at the intimacy of calling him by his real name. "Jihoon," you repeat softly, savoring the sound.
He smiles, a soft, almost shy smile that makes your heart skip a beat. Then he leans in again, kissing your cheek, your jaw, and your neck. Each touch of his lips sends you on cloud nine, making you arch against his chest, your hands gripping his bicep for support.
"Jihoon," you murmur again, the name feeling more natural on your lips each time.
His hands move up your sides, sliding under your tank top, his fingers warm against your skin. He pulls the fabric up, and you lift your arms, allowing him to remove it completely. The cool air of the studio contrasts with the heat of his touch, making your nipples harden.
He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes roaming over your body "You're beautiful," he whispers.
You blush, feeling a little shy under his gaze. "You too," you reply, reaching up to touch his face, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw.
He smiles and pulls you closer, his lips finding yours once more. This kiss is deeper, more urgent, as if he's trying to pour all his feelings into it. You respond with equal fervor, your hands exploring the planes of his chest, and the muscles of his back.
Jihoon’s hands move to your waist again, his fingers brushing the waistband of your jeans. He pauses, looking at you for permission. You nod, your breath hitching in the process.
He unbuttons your jeans, sliding them down your hips and letting them pool at your feet. You step out of them, standing before him in just your underwear. He takes a moment to admire you again, his eyes dark with desire, a little hidden under his long bangs.
You reach for the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head. He helps you, tossing it aside. Your hands explore his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his milky skin, the steady beat of his heart.
This time, his hands roam more freely, exploring every inch of your body. His touch is gentle, yet possessive, as if he's trying to memorize every curve, every contour. After all, he doesn't know when he'll be able to touch you like that again. That is, if there is a next time.
You respond in kind, your hands moving over his body, savoring the feel of his muscles flexing under your fingertips.
He guides you toward the couch, his lips never leaving yours. You lie down, pulling him with you, your bodies molding together perfectly. He kisses his way down your neck, your chest, his lips leaving a trail of saliva in their wake.
"Jihoon," you moan, your hands tangling in his hair as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently. The sensation numbs your mind, making you arch against him.
Jihoon makes you relax on his couch, but you suddenly become very aware when his fingers slide your panties to the side, moistening his fingers with your lubrication. He opens his eyes to watch you squirm as your pussy sucks his finger inside without effort. His cold finger fits perfectly inside you, and you can feel him teasing to put another one. You clap a hand over your mouth to stifle your moans.
He laughs softly, taking your hand off your mouth. "The studio is soundproof. You can moan as loud as you want."
You mentally thank him because with his fingers now perfectly entering and leaving you, a loud moan escapes your mouth, and the sound of your wet pussy isn't discreet. You're loving the intense gaze he has on you, like you're about to be devoured. He tries to kiss you, but you can only moan as he fingers you.
Jihoon curls his fingers on your g'spot, repeating the motion again and again. You let out a strangled moan, squirming under his touch. "Don't do that, or I'll mess up your sofa," you warn, your voice shaky with pleasure.
He looks at you from under his bangs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I don't care about the sofa," he murmurs, pressing a hand on your lower belly to intensify the curl of his fingers.
The added pressure makes you scream, "Please, please!"
Jihoon smirks, his fingers moving faster inside you. "Please what? Tell me what you need," he demands, his voice commanding.
"Please, Jihoon, I need more," you gasp, your body arching against his hand.
He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "More of what? My fingers? My mouth?" he asks, his tone teasing.
"Both," you whimper, feeling desperate for more of his touch.
Jihoon chuckles, his lips brushing against your ear. "Greedy, aren't you? But I'll give you what you want," he promises, his fingers curling and pressing against your g'spot with relentless precision.
You cry out, your body trembling. "Jihoon, I'm going to—"
"Do it," he whispers, his calm raspy voice making you bite your bottom lip. "Come for me."
Your hands clutch at the couch as Jihoon's head moves from above you to between your legs. The moment his tongue touches your clit, you can't hold back, and you come almost immediately. 
He stops for a moment, just to admire the sight of you arching your back on his couch, his fingers deep inside you, all wet as you roll your hips on them, moaning in his studio, naked. He never thought it would happen, but he isn't complaining.
You discover he's stronger than you thought when he holds your hips down to keep you in place before he devours your pussy. You roll your eyes at the sensitivity and the sight of his fangs tickling your skin, making you giggle between moans. 
The scene is completely sinful. You prop yourself up on one elbow and hold his hair up to see his face, flushed but with closed eyes, all concentrated on giving you pleasure. You find it incredibly cute, and you can't help but praise him.
"Jihoon, you're doing so good," you murmur, your voice trembling. "You're so focused, it's amazing."
In response, he sucks your clit inside his mouth, making you pull his hair a little. He hisses softly, and you quickly apologize. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"
He looks up at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "It's okay," he says, his voice slightly rough. "I like it."
You can't help but moan louder as he resumes his attention to your clit. His fingers continue their relentless rhythm inside you, and you feel the pressure building again.
"Jihoon, please," you gasp, your hips bucking against his hold.
You gasp, and Jihoon stops, making your head fall back as you whine, your orgasm interrupted. He kneels on the couch, lowering his sweatpants and underwear to his thighs. You shake your head, saying, "I want you to take it all off."
He smiles, obliged, then comes completely naked over you. You spread your legs for him, wide, and he slides his cock between your folds, eliciting a whine from you. Still supporting yourself on your elbow, you grab his hair, pulling it slightly, earning a moan from him.
As your tongues wrap around each other, his cock slides inside you, and you open your mouth in a silent moan, your back plopping on the couch. He moans at the sensation of your gummy walls wrapping his cock, sucking him in welcomely. He also smiles, finding your reaction endearing.
Jihoon rolls his hips slowly, letting you adjust to the fullness of his cock. The slow stimulation draws moans from your lips, and you gasp, "Not only do you make amazing music, but you fuck so damn good too."
Jihoon lets out a genuine laugh, his breath warm against your skin. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, so shy, and you pull him back, wanting to see his eyes. He glances at you, amusement shining in his gaze.
"You really know how to flatter a guy," he chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
You laugh with him, the sound mingling with the intimate atmosphere around you. "It's true," you say, your voice lighter. 
Jihoon shakes his head, still smiling, but the moment of levity shifts as he feels your walls tighten around him. His smile fades into a look of intense pleasure, his face contorts, and he starts to moan, the sound vibrating through you.
"Oh, God," he groans, his hips picking up a rhythm that makes your breath hitch. "You feel so good."
The sounds of skin slapping, your moans, and the low hum from the computer rendering the music become the backdrop to your intense session with Jihoon. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and your hair spreads wildly across the couch. He can feel your wetness around his cock, spreading to his thighs and the couch. You brace yourself with one hand on the couch's arm, your lips plump and sensitive from the kisses and bites.
Jihoon closes his eyes, focusing solely on the sensation of your pussy. If he keeps looking at how much pleasure you're experiencing, he might come too soon. But you can already sense his cock throbbing inside you.
"Open your eyes," you urge him, catching on.
He opens them, sulking a bit, and you give him a devilish smile. You lick your fingers, sliding them down your body to circle your clit, doubling your pleasure and his. His mouth falls open at the sight.
"Fuck, nooo..." he mumbles, watching your every move.
You revel in the sight of his abs flexing, showing that his orgasm is near. Sensing his impending climax, Jihoon pulls out, giving himself a moment to regain control. When he's ready, he slides back in, making you arch your back and curl your toes, triggering your orgasm instead.
You smile at his audacity, and he grins, seeing that his tactic worked. "F-fuck you… I'm cumming, Jihoon," you warn, closing your eyes as the pleasure builds.
He speeds up his hips, making you stop breathing for a second before a deep moan escapes from your chest. You feel yourself clenching and unclenching around him, your body shuddering as you reach your peak. Panting hard, Jihoon pulls out just in time, spilling his cum on your belly as he strokes his cock. His body trembles, and his eyes lock with yours, his bangs falling over his forehead.
Jihoon takes a long look at your spent body, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "How about a nap before dinner?" he suggests softly.
You close your eyes and nod, feeling the exhaustion settling in. "Right..." he murmurs, getting up from the couch.
You miss the warmth of his body immediately and let out a small whine. He chuckles, "I'm coming back," he assures you as he grabs a box of Kleenex and brings some tissues to clean you up. Gently, he wipes your belly and between your legs, his touch tender.
"I'm glad we finished some songs," he teases, his eyes twinkling. "You don't look like you could continue... at least not today."
You scoff, too tired to come up with a witty response. Jihoon starts dressing you, carefully slipping your top back on, your panties, and leaving your jeans off so you can nap comfortably. Once you're settled, he dresses himself quickly.
From the corner of the studio, he fetches a thin blanket draped over a poltrone. He covers you with it and then lays down beside you, pulling you close.
"You really wore me out," you murmur, a hint of amusement in your voice.
He grins, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Likewise," he says. "But it was worth it."
You let out a contented sigh, feeling more relaxed than you had in a long time. "I can't wait to hear how the songs turn out," you confessed, your voice growing dreamier with each passing moment.
Jihoon hummed in agreement, his fingers resuming their soothing motions on your back. "Me too," he murmured. "But for now, let's just enjoy this."
And so you did. Wrapped in each other's arms, you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, you snuggle into him, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you towards sleep. 
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brownblob · 2 months
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"I Love You"
When the words "I love you" spill from the prefect's lips, how do the Housewardens react?
Part 1
TW: Kissing in Malleus' part, forehead kisses, mentions of insecurities (Fluff)
Part 2 (Separate): Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia
ᥫ᭡. Kalim Al-Asim ᥫ᭡.
Like the scorching sun in the Scalding Sands, Kalim's feelings for you burned deep within his heart. Why is it that he wants to spend time with you, but the moment he does, his heart seems to stop? Why is it that the word 'friend' bugs him when associated with you? Why is it that he wants to be selfish, to hog you for himself? His mind become's mush whenever you're near and his throat feels dry, he just feels so shy.
Kalim is everything but shy.
Expensive gifts, prized heirlooms, rare gemstones, and any luxury you could name- he'll give it all to you, so why do you reject? Anyone else would accept his gifts with open arms, encouraging him to give more. Wait, you aren't anyone, you're you. You don't take, you give. Despite the little you have in this new world, you who harbors no magic, gives him joy. You spend time with him, you care for him, and you don't take from him- he really wishes you would.
Take his riches and look back at him just one more time, he swears he'll hand you all the gold he can acquire. So please, please just look at him more.
You're caring, so much so that he could just melt in your arms. How lucky he feels when you look at him, but why? Jamil looks at him too, he doesn't feel as if mice are tickling him then. No, when you're around, all he can see is you. You who shines brighter than any gemstone his wealth could buy. You are not a prize to be won, he knows, but he wishes that the glitters of gold could woo you, make him your number one.
He feels so lost and it hurts, nights spent sobbing away.
Kalim, the name alone makes you smile. Someone who's kind despite all that he's faced, all the horrible people he's met- he still believes in the good of people. Some call it naivety, you call it 'a heart of gold'. Yes, he's sheltered, there's some things he's slow at, and he has flaws. Despite said flaws, he want to become better and you see him try every single day. You've seen how he makes everyone comfortable, always including anyone and everyone, how he's akin to a drop of sunshine. It's a rarity and you appreciate it greatly. Twisted Wonderland, it's new to you and things are difficult but when Kalim's there, things don't feel that difficult.
He doesn't look down upon you, he doesn't think you're weak despite having no magic, and he certainly never belittles you- others have and that hurt.
He's always up for some fun, but it always feels better when he can share the fun with you. Thus, flying carpet rides have become your nightly routine. There's a soft knock on your window every other night, a hand extended your way; calling you to live, be happy. You can't help but blush when the carpet takes off, his body huddles closer to yours and the moon seems tease you with how bright she is.
It's another night and he's come to pick you up to go see the Scarabia moon. You're sitting next to each other, the desert seemingly glowing underneath. The stars twinkle and you swear the breeze is cool on purpose, just so the both of you have no choice but to lean into each other. Hands intertwine, both of you looking the other way, cheeks red like cherries.
"I..I love you."
You fumble out on mistake, your breath hitching the moment you realize. His head whips towards you, garnet eyes appraising your blushing visage. A soft smile appears on his lips, his sun-kissed skin peachy with a blush of his own.
"I love you too."
He says eagerly, hands wrapping around you as he pulls you in. The moon looks bigger, the stars winking at you, and the scent of sandalwood engulfs you. A soft kiss is planted on your forehead, one that lingers. Like a pair of sea otters, you both hold the other's hand.
ᥫ᭡. Vil Schoenheit ᥫ᭡.
Center of attention, even the room's filled to the brim with pretty faces. Eye's the color of violets and a smile that's so striking, it could cut right through you. Just how a bright star commands everyone's admiration, Vil himself does exactly that. With beauty that's akin to a velvety rose, thorns sharp and drawing blood of the one who dares touch. He's not sure why he's so fond of you, really, it baffles him. Your constant babbling should bother him- your posture isn't perfect, you don't regularly use the products he recommends to you, and your diet could use improving.
He only recently realized the perfection of imperfection. That's what you are, like an abstract piece of art that can draw even the most elegant man's heart. Truly, you can take his breath and keep it, which is a difficult feat to accomplish. Yet, you seem to have done just that.
He doesn't like how drawn he is to you, the you who could improve so much. Nevertheless, he can't deny how his heart flutters when you ramble on and on, the words you spew seem like pearls to him. Undeniably, you've got his heart, and it bothers him.
Vil seems unreachable to you, as if he's a god and you're a follower. You can see him, but you can't touch. Everything about him is captivating- the way he moves, how he walks, how he talks, everything. You feel like a toad in front of him sometimes. Still, the reason your heart continues to flutter is not his beauty but how soft he can be. His words may be harsh, telling you to fix your posture or add a certain product to your skincare, but he means well. It used to irk you, how he pointed out your flaws, but he never touched an insecurity- it was never something you couldn't fix. Many times, he only tells you how to improve and that's in his nature. It started with you muttering curses under your breath, now all you do is give him a dopey smile as he flicks your forehead.
It's hard to love Vil, and you're sure that it's even harder to be loved by him. He's untouchable and you're not sure if he'll even spare you a glance. But, the nights you spend at his dorm, him tending to your skin as you blabber about your day. Or the few rarities when he opens up, speaking of his insecurities. It shows how human he is; how he too, can feel.
It's another night at his dorm, your skin's worsened as of late and Vil's ordered you to give him a visit. You sit at his vanity, the light's so bright that it could blind you, but what truly blinds you is Vil himself in all his glory. His dampened hair, the ends the color of wisteria, and the scent of patchouli just makes you want to melt right then and there. He strides over with a new product in his hand, carefully beginning to massage your face with it.
"I love you."
The words come out instantly, his hands stopping in motion as his violet eyes widen. A sheepish blush coats your face as you realize what you said. Your breath hitches, the fear of rejection drilling into your mind, and your heart drumming against your chest.
"That's quite bold of you, sweet potato.."
He lets out a small chuckle, eyes holding content. He leans closer before flicking you on the forehead gently.
"I love you too."
ᥫ᭡. Idia Shroud ᥫ᭡.
The buzz of video games, the stench on junk food, and an interest for oddities. Idia Shroud was a wallflower, yet you'd managed to befriend him, something he's truly grateful for- your presence. He liked you. You understood him, you never belittled him for what he enjoyed, in fact, you encouraged him to continue. No matter how good or bad you were at a game, you'd play alongside him. It didn't matter whether you enjoyed his rambles, you'd listen no matter what, before babbling on and on about something of your own interest. Nights like this, filled with games, reading manga, watching anime, and spending time with you- he never wanted these to end.
You were brave, so unlike him. You had no magic, still you managed to show courage, to fight against overblots. How he wished he was you, no, how he wished he was yours. The realization hit him like a truck in an isekai, quickly and out of nowhere. When he figured he liked you, he didn't let you anywhere near him for a week- opting to hide in his room and not leave. It took some convincing from Ortho and also the fact that you may dislike him if he ignored you, before he opened his doors for you once again. Nevertheless, he was skittish, averting his gaze from your face, and sitting on the other end of the couch when you visited. That worried you, you were sure you'd messed up big time and he became uneasy around you because of it. Thankfully everything became normal after two weeks, he was sure he wouldn't be able to recover.
The truth was, you liked him too. It was weird and something unforeseen, you both started out as friends- you'd visit his dorm, play games all night, munch on junk together, and then laugh at all the cringe characters in the current anime you both were binging on. Right now, you were experiencing that cheesy crush from a shoujo manga, and the feeling was messing with your brain.
The gloomy boy you pined for was everything but dreamy, somehow, that's what made him so charming to you. Hair an electric blue that flared up like flames, pale skin akin to porcelain, and eyes yellow like daffodils. His physicality was mesmerizing but there was so much more to his character too. He was passionate about what he enjoyed, jabbering on for hours about his interest, something that you didn't mind one bit. He was competitive, striking a triumphant grin whenever he'd win a game against you. He's prideful too, his creations making him an utter genius. At the same time, he held such emotion, a man who would never judge for he himself experienced the badmouthing of others.
There's just something about Idia, something that makes your cheeks flare up. You're not sure if he notices how his presence can make you skittish, how you become timid when he's near, and how divine he seems to you. He never notice how he makes you feel, how ironic that you become just like him when he's near.
Just like the usual, you're cooped up in his dorm alongside him. You've been binging an anime for the past few hours and the way he's so focused on the characters while you're so focused on him, it bothers you. He feels so close yet so far and the fact that you're having such thoughts about the whole situation, makes you feel stupid.
"I love you.."
You immediately pause at your own words, Idia pauses the show too. There's a long silence in the room and before you know it, Idia's moved far away from you. His hair's become an electric pink and his eyes are wide.
"W-w-w-what..!?"
He exclaims the words as if he's animated, the feeling of fluster surging throughout him. Were you playing a joke on him? This wasn't right, it couldn't be. His gaze averts the other way every time you look at him and he won't admit it, but he really hopes you're not joking.
"I love you, Idia."
You say again, softer this time and you yourself look the other way, peachy blush coating your face. You're cursing yourself for speaking up, palms sweaty and clammy. You feel dizzy and your breathing is erratic , the feeling's mutual. The room's silent again, no one says anything and the only sound either of you can hear is the buzz of the computer.
"I...I...I dove, no, love you too.."
He mutters out, fumbling his words while he does. You both look at each other, shy gaze. Your lips form a small smile, making Idia's hair flare an even brighter pink. His face is rosy and he'd rather not look at you but you're just so pretty that he can't help but look.
You're not sure how it things fell in place but he accepted your confession, and now you've somehow managed to cuddle up to him. He's stiff but that's fine, the mere fact that he's holding your hand tightly is enough to reassure you. That, and how smug he looks.
ᥫ᭡. Malleus Draconia ᥫ᭡.
Child of man, you truly are peculiar. Malleus Draconia, the name alone makes millions, if not billions, tremble to the bone. He holds such unrivaled power that the thought alone is fearsome- he is fearsome.
A monster, that's what many would call him, but you don't. No one dares approach him as carelessly as you do, a bumbling smile on your lips as you walk next to him without a care in the world. Do you truly not know what he's capable of? 'Tsunotaro', that's what you've named him- quite bold of you, not that he minds. Please continue to enlighten him about human practices, he's interested in every thing you have to say.
Loneliness is a disease that he's suffered from since his childhood. It's second nature to be alone with his own presence, silence a bandage that covers but doesn't heal his wounds. Yet, the way you come to him, invite him to all your little events, how you choose him. How can he be lonely when he has you?
You, who is so bright like a star coated in gold- is he even allowed to go near you? It feels as if you'll break in his hands, yet you seem so brave, putting yourself in danger with a smile. You've got his heart in your hands and it hurts that you don't realize.
'Friend' was a word he grew to love, knowing the special bond you shared. Nevertheless, it's the same word that has caused Diasomnia to have horrible whether for the past week- you're a friend to many but a lover to none. Be his, child of man, he's the only one worthy enough to call you his.
Since the day of his realization, Malleus follows you as a second shadow would. Now, no one with ill intentions would dare approach what he's already considered his. Truly, how precious you are. Giving him small shiny pebbles you find, trying to tuck daisies into his hair but being unable to reach his head, and the times you try to tease him as a joke, making the silliest of faces. Please tell him that he's the only one who has the honor of seeing you in such various forms. Dragons are hoarders, you know? And he wants nothing but to hoard you all for himself.
Spending time with your Tsunotaro is always fulfilling. His knowledge on gargoyles, the depth in which he speaks of them and how little he knows of human interactions. It all makes your heart flutter, eliciting a smile on your lips. It's not difficult to have feelings for someone such as him, it comes naturally. He seems so intimidating, dangerous even and it's not that he's not- he is, but there's so much more to him. He's curious, always listening to what you have to say. He's sweet, always handing you gifts whether small or unimaginably grand. And the manner in which he speaks, the elegance he holds, he's just as charming as any prince in a book- if not more.
When you began actually having feelings for him, all his words seemed to make your mind all fuzzy. Could he really not tell how his vocabulary affected you? 'My dear', 'my love', and all other forms of endearments had become a usual, so much so, that it felt right.
You went on walks with him, spotting gargoyles and chatting about them. Sometimes you drag him to picnics with and he happily follows, letting you braid his ebony hair. Still, not everything you shared seemed friend-like, and if it was, you didn't want it to be. The way his emerald eyes gazed over you, how his touch lingered so gently, and how his lips brushed agains your ear when he said he'll keep you safe. It couldn't mean nothing, you didn't want it to.
A walk in a meadow at nighttime, how strange, but also the daily for you. You walk alongside Malleus, skittish and timid- this isn't how you usually act. The moon's peeking out from under the clouds and casting a silver sheen on all that it lands on. Fireflies scurry around slowly, the cool night air making you feel at ease- but it's not enough.
Your face is flushed and you won't meet his gaze, he's not sure what he did wrong. His frame towers behind you as you seem to walk quicker, increasing your pace. Hurt, that's what he feels; did you start seeing him as a monster too?
You can't leave, please- he'll beg if he has to, give you all of what he has and can create. Promise you'll stay, and don't ever leave.
Then you pause, turning around as you take deliberate steps towards him. You look up, your smaller frame covered by his daunting shadow.
"I love you, Tsunotaro."
You say with a certain melancholy in your voice, as if you know he'll reject you and your love. How could he ever think of rejecting? He'd rather pierce his own heart and bleed to death than ever think of rejecting any of your words.
His viridescent eyes widen, the glow of them seeming intense. His hands holds you in place gently, he seems to be staring at you, looking you as if you're the most fragile piece of glass. The words don't spill out of his lips and you look more desolate by the second- he seemingly can't speak, he's not sure if this is but a dream.
"I love you too, child of man. So much that you wouldn't believe it."
His hands wrap you in a desperate embrace, almost as desperate as the words he'd just managed to choke out. It was as if you would wither away if he let go, as if he was making sure you were not a dream.
Your own eyes widen, lips parting shock at his words. The night seems magical and his embrace is sincere. He pries away from you only to look at you more, all your expressions- please continue to show such faces to only him. Only he should see you like this, with your face flushed red and eyes widened as you stare at him as though he's the only man in the world. His hands seem shaky, unlike who he usually is.
No, he seems so vulnerable and you seem to be his vulnerability.
Everything seems alright when you're there, he doesn't feel loneliness; far from it, actually. He doesn't feel like a monster when you love him, when your own arms loosely wrap around his neck as you pull him in for a soft kiss- no, monster's don't get such luxuries.
Note: If you enjoyed this, please interact with this post, my blog, and reblog! Any kind gestures are greatly appreciated! Thank you!
Note 2: Please reblog, even if you don't press like on the post. Reblogs help a ton more!
Note 3: I didn't expect the last part to get so much attention, thank you so much everyone. I greatly appreciate everyone's interactions with my posts! As of now, I'll be working on requests and maybe some other ideas! (I really hope this part 2 is good too)
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kingofbodyrolls · 7 months
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Say I Do (m) | jjk
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Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.
Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)
AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au
Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣
Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
Word count: 5,2k
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).
Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘 
Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜
This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜
Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).
This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨
Fancy reading on AO3? 😉 
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Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story. 
As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.
Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.
The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck. 
You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell. 
A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.
What the fuck is Taehyung saying?
Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.
Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.
Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.
He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.
In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion. 
As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.
Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table. 
The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips. 
With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests. 
Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression. 
As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown. 
The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences. 
Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.
In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes. 
Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment. 
Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.
Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.
The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.
“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook. 
Fuck. 
All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you. 
Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends? 
In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.
With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention. 
Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests. 
As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere. 
Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.
Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy. 
Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek. 
Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.
Fucking hell he’s gonna come.
Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated. 
Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.
Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm. 
As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.
Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.
With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants. 
With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.
But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx. 
As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.
Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness. 
He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.
As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass. 
Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.
As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”
He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss. 
As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.
In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you. 
“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.
The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips. 
You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins. 
Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.
Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.
In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.” 
The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body. 
Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing. 
Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.
Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold. 
With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric. 
“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.
His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.
A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit. 
The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.
He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.
A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.
His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.
Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.
With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers. 
Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.
Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.
He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”
You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp. 
“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.
As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence. 
His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall. 
In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more. 
With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?” 
The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.
“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.
With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two. 
“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves. 
With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.
He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix. 
“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!” 
You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.
He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.
As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.
He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too. 
His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him. 
In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot. 
“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.
“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment. 
As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.
“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.
Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction. 
“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.
As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins. 
Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.
“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.
“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo. 
Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels. 
“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.
“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.
You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.
He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”
“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.
“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.
The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy. 
Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.
With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.
“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.
He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.
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Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜
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lady-ashfade · 1 year
Text
Bound By Birth
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The yandere boy’s reaction to you being their sweet, smaller twin and being obsessed.
Characters: Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Aemond Targaryen.
Theses aren’t complete HC’s just some I thought about, but if you want a part 2 or a fic based on it please let me know.
Warnings: Yandere tendencies, Obsession, Possessive, Targaryen ways if you know what I mean, stalking, a bit hinted or nswf a bit but nothing is said that much!
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Aemond Targaryen
As soon as Aemond came out of the womb he had lost this sense of warmth and comfort, like he knew you weren’t with him. The new born screamed until you had entered the world a few minutes later and the room felt silent from his crys, only to be full with yours.
From his first breath he knew he belonged with you.
We all know aemond had no dragon that hatched from the egg so he lost that feeling but he had you. The gods had blessed him with something far greater then any dragon he could ever have. Needless to say he thinks of you as his to have since you are his twin.
Little man is possessive from the get go, like he can not bare to be away from you. So you always had him following your trail everywhere you went.
Aemond felt heartbroken when your egg hatched and his had yet too, only to discover the egg was never going to hatch. He was beyond jealous. He and you were supposed to have everything alike, dress the same, eat the same food and share the same toys.
But then that’s when it clicked into his brain you are his dragon. Yes, the gods did this on purpose.
No matter the gender his mind always pictured your wedding day.
Hates it when you train with your dragon and he can’t. Like gets really upset. He does get picked on but you’re there to save him, making him fall harder.
He swears one day he would protect you.
Aegon and the other boys are out of the question for him. You aren’t allowed to hang out with them at all, and if you are? He will pull you away quickly without a word and drag you off away from them.
When he gets his eye taken from him he couldn’t handle your eyes looking at him. Feels ashamed for the curse now on his face because he can’t be handsome or beautiful for you.
But the joy he feels inside when you weep beside him and hold his hand, he feels some sort of pride that you care for him deeply.
Female twin:
Knows you are meant to marry him. He doesn’t even have to convince Alicent very hard to wed you because she needs you to stay safe.
Matching your dresses to his outfit all the time.
He trains to impress you one day, maybe protect you in a fight. If you are ever watching the boys practice he will try his hardest which sometimes leads to him embarrassing himself. But you are there to smile and kiss his cheek with grace.
After that the two of you grow, well he changes into a different man but you stay the same sweet girl.
Aemond has become your protector. Always behind you and glaring at anyone who passes a glance that isn’t welcome. Man is ready to kill with just one word.
Since he is older his mind grows and he can’t stop noticing how beautiful you really are. The body, the hair, or just the sound of your sweet voice. He is addicted and can’t wait to have you as his wife.
Is a beast at fighting now. Gets a boost when you watch from above and see him win every time. Cole is his wingman and will pair him up with someone to put on a good fight just for you.
Male twin
Knows the gods made you smaller and younger then him just so you can be his. From the time he realized what marriage was he was thinking of you.
When you are younger and training he hates embarrassing himself around you, like hated it. Or when you’d pair up with the other boys, even Aegon. Aemond will hate to spar against you and he couldn’t imagine hurting you. But this is more time he can bound with you.
When he loses his eyes- Boy is more angry that he doesn’t look more like you now. You were his twin brother and are supposed to look the same. Aemond does feel the same when he sees you cry for him and tell him he will be okay. But he’s gained a dragon now. One to protect you.
Aemond is just glaring at people while you’re just smiling at everyone. Two separate handsome boys.
He doesn’t care if you’re a boy, you are his twin and he is meant to have you. He hates the thought of you marrying a woman, or anything- Will not share you with anyone.
You both match clothes all the time and he makes sure to tell the servants to dress you both alike or he will be angry.
He is still your protector at all cost and will let nobody harm you in any way. Not his sweet brother.
Just as well, when he grows his mind picks up on your handsome face, your smaller height. He feels better about himself because he could easily overpower you, being the bigger male twin does something to him. He loves it when you get angry at how you can’t grow as much muscle or height as him.
You both train together and he will teach you. Sometimes he will let you win, other times he wouldn’t because he loves you looking a bit sad- You might not be as big or strong but you have speed and can move away from him quickly. He loves to praise you for the smallest things.
Lucerys Velaryon
As I have said in my past fics he is a clingy boy. From birth he loves you because you are his partner in life and he knows it.
Lucerys does cry a lot when he is away from you, but he is also a happy baby as long as he is near you, just like aemond. I think at the young age he just knows you’re his twin.
I picture you however being the first one to walk and he’s just on the floor trying to follow you. Throws a tantrum when you walk away. But, his first steps are when rhaenrya tries to get him to walk and he does…only to walk passed her and over to you.
Growing up he follows you around like a lost puppy. Clings to you where ever you go and if you don’t give him your attention, he will find a way to get it. He does get jealous when jace is around because he’s older, boy just wants you to pay attention to him.
He has planned many pranks with you. Might even do a few on you but feels bad immediately afterwards.
When your father “dies” he realizes his role is to take on driftmark and he fears it. So he gets more possessive after that.
Hates being called Bastard but when someone calls you that? Boy is pulling you away and telling his mother for just the slightest judgement against you. Might even get daemon on it because he is more ruthless.
He tells his mother when he was younger to betroth the two of you and she sees how much you two love each other. However when you both get older he yells at her that he will not marry anyone else but you, no matter what. And he never disobeys her but this was different and she knows he telling the truth.
Even if you are a male he will take no wife. Because that means she would be yours as well. But let’s be honest, rhaenrya is planning to betrothed the both of you to someone. 
He kisses your cheek all the time or holds you hands, doesn’t really care who’s watching.
He still pranks you however, like taking your books and holding them above your head.
He is more clingy then the rest of them but not as dangerous- Well, not himself but will get others to do the dirt work.
Male twin:
He knows he’s small but he’s still young, but you? You’re shorter then him and less muscular and it makes him happy. Because that means he can protect you better then you can yourself.
He compares his frame to yours constantly, you’re such a smaller boy and he picks on you a bit. Not mean, but he can be a bit cocky at times.
You already know you both have matching outfits- Every day. Even pjs.
You both used to spar with each other all the time because it was so much fun, and he didn’t like you going against anyone in the fear of you being hurt.
Older sparring is fun because he isn’t that good at it and you’re almost just as bad. From any age he is so embarrassed to mess up in front of you. But maybe if he beats you then you can praise him for it.
Also, he can be alone with you and no one bats an eye because you’re both boys. So he can be as affectionate as he wants.
But nothing really changes for being a boy or a girl in his eyes, he’s just the same with both.
Female reader.
Younger him thinks it’s like a book about a princess and prince, just like the ones your mother read to the two of you.
Because you’re a female he gets more jealous of the males in his family, not saying he doesn’t for male you but this is different. You can easily be betrothed to any of them, he hates it.
Begs your mother to have you as his wife from a young age as well. It’s your birth right to be his bride. And again this means he has no use of another wife because you can have children. There is no one else he wants.
Matching dresses to his outfits and if you want to wear something else? Pouts. He can’t bare to not be in the same color as you.
Sparring is different because he is so terrified of hurting you. He will not even use force on his swings, but a few low hits. You can cry and get angry he isn’t trying but he wouldn’t care.
Kisses you in private all the time, “You’ll be my wife one day.”
Glares at any male that talks to you, even his brother. Tugs at your hand and just joins at your hip.
You can’t be alone together…Unless he sneaks in your room. Will just hold you until you both fall asleep.
Loves to braid your hair. Like he learns just for you.
Jacaerys Velaryon
He is the first born, so he knows he’s missing you. He, just like the others, is waiting for your presence.
Somehow even baby him wiggles closer to you in the cradle. They had to put you two in the same cradle because he wouldn’t stop fussing about being away from you.
He is more calm at this time, like if you get picked up? He’s going to watch but he’s just chilling unless you are out of his sight.
Loves to show you his toys, even though you have seen them so many times. Loves to share them with you too.
Have you seen those videos of babies hugging each other? Literally him with you.
He isn’t as different from the other two at this point.
Jace learns he is to become king and always calles you the future queen/king. And I mean actually correcting his mother or anyone else.
“The gods put us together, it stays that way.”
Loves when you hold his arm or chase him around playing tag.
Hates Aegon or aemond. He’s okay with lucerys, just don’t give him more attention.
Knows he is a bastard and that makes you one too and he fears for you the most.
Older him is just as bad if not more.
Tails behind you and always have his hand around your waist. Always doing everything together.
Even baths, not in the same room but at the same time- And he’s tried to be in the same tub. But going to clothes, studying and to the same sheets as you.
Gets angry if it’s even mentioned that you would marry someone else. Yells about how you will role beside him and no one can change that.
He’s kinda angry a lot when it comes to you. Wouldn’t really let anyone get too close, like not even your personal time. You want to read a book? Okay, he will be in the corner doing his own thing.
But he’s sweet to you always unless you say you can’t marry him, then it’s just him pushing you to think you have no choice.
Male twin
You think you can get away from this man? Um no, he is always near you.
From a young age he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Can’t play without him, can’t study without him, or train. Anything you do is what he is doing.
Training with younger him isn’t that bad- Well, okay it’s a bit. He really loves to win against you and does the most. He wouldn’t hurt you but if you fall it isn’t his fault, you should be praising him for being so strong.
Dressing the same each time and will literally throw a tantrum if not. Saying the future king demands it.
After a few years, I think he might be the most possessive about you. The only time you can leave him or go somewhere in the castle is with his mother.
Man is always with you every step, linking your arms.
You already know he is picking on you for being so much smaller then him. I see him as such a cocky man for some reason. Saying things like
“You can’t get that, let me.” “I’m surprised you can even pick up a sword.” “How can a man be that small?”
Training with him older is him teaching you- Mostly useless stuff so he can still win. Just like when he was a kid, loves to win against you.
Matching outfits with you.
Boy knows you are to be king with him and will not stop at anything to get that point across.
Female twin
Boy is holding your hand as you lead him anywhere or him you. He with not leave you for anything.
Matching your dresses to his colors or you wearing his favorite colors- Or him just picking them out for you. If jace doesn’t like your dress he will make you change it.
Is ready before you get done in the morning and comes in as soon as you get your dress on, much to his dismay because he could help you change.
Wouldn’t let the maids touch your skin or go anywhere. The only place that can help you with is your hair and clothes. Loves to let his hands linger on your neck while he places a necklace on you. Or helping you pick everything out.
Escorts you everywhere you need to go. He isn’t afraid to have a tight grip on your waist if you try and get away from him. Can and will gaslight you anytime he wants.
Just like the others he already told his mom he will marry you. You think he will care if she says no? Ha, he wouldn’t care.
While he is studying you are in the corner or with your mother.
He doesn’t really like your time with the other children but is kinda okay with it. Only if you pay attention to him more.
Sneaks into your room at night and will kiss you for as long as he can. Holds you close and brushes your hair until you fall asleep. Doesn’t even care if he leaves marks on you so the others can see.
He does kill in secret if need be or gets them killed by guards, maybe even by daemon or rhaenrya.
Daemon has taught him a few things on how to wow a woman and how to keep you in line, even things to do to you in bed.
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lyvhie · 3 months
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LYV LYV LYYYV LOOK what do you think about a loser haechan who has a popular bestf who is dating the girl of his dreams. he tries his hard to not blush or at least embarrass himself in front of her, but he can't help it and his bestf notices it. so when he invites his gf over, he leaves his door open in a sole purpose of haechan caughting them. and he does. and shamelessly watches, jerking off. his bestf and his gf tease him until he cums, practically sobbing, then he's invited to the partyy
that's what friends are for... | ldh
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donghyuck x fem!reader - ft. boyfriend!mark (18+ mdni)
summary: if they even share a place, why wouldn't they do the same with a girlfriend?
a/n: uGH I SUCK AT DOING LOSER BEHAVIOOURURTRR BUT I TRIED IM SORRY LOLA 😓😓 (i changed a few details too, i hope you don't mind).
cw: smut, fingering, masturbation, handjob, exhibitionism (?), voyeurism (?), kinda threesome (???).
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haechan was fine just watching you from afar. you were, in his conception, perfect. you're beautiful, funny, smart and so, so damn hot. he knew from the beginning that he had no chance and, when you started dating mark, his best friend, haechan's dream became even more distant.
it was the quintessential model couple of the year. everything appeared to be in order – the beautiful girl with her popular boyfriend, living out their own version of a fairy tale, just as it was often seen with those who fit the mold.
even though he was content with that. he found solace in the fact that he and mark were roommates. you were frequently around their shared space, and that alone satisfied him more than anything he could possibly hope for. the fact that you acknowledged his existence and even engaged in conversation, made him feel like he had won the lottery.
acting cool in your presence was a must! he was determined to emulate mark's demeanor, hoping that if he imitated his behavior, you might like him more. every opportunity he had, he would try to impress you – he'd show off his achievements in nintendo ds games, his latest skin collections in league of legends, or even try to explain complex physics problems just to catch your attention.
he wasn't entirely certain whether you were laughing with or at him, but he appreciated having your attention nonetheless. whenever he made a jest and you responded with a laugh, saying things like"yeah, really awesome, haechan," he couldn't help but feel a sense of joy at the fact that he was the one who made you smile.
oh, he loved it every time he heard his name rolling off your tongue. he wished he could hear you moaning it while he fucks your pretty pussy, but it's always mark's name that escaped your lips in those moments, the same name that he heard you moan countless times while he pretended to sleep in his room, listening to all the lewd sounds coming from mark's room.
god, how he wished it was him in that moment. he would be so good to you, even better than mark. but life is so unfair, and he has to be settle for fucking his own fist while thinking about you, imagining what it would be like to have you wrapped around him, or to have your thighs around his head while he eats you out and swallows all of your sweet juices and—
“baby, stop,” haechan was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of your voice, followed by your sweet giggle. he quickly turned his attention to you, dropping everything he was doing on the computer. he was surprised that you were there this late, he hadn't expected you to come over tonight.
haechan rose from his comfortable chair and slowly cracked open the door of his room to get a glimpse of the scene unfolding just outside. his heart skipping a few beats as he saw you pressed against the wall, with mark showering your neck with kisses.
"c'mon, babe,” he already knew what you were talking about. “you know he loves it," mark muttered against your skin, his kisses trailing up towards your lips.
mark was all too aware of haechan's feelings towards you, despite the boy's efforts to be subtle. he had observed the way haechan looked at you, how he often used a pillow to conceal the growing bulge in his pants every time you sauntered around in a mini-skirt, how he tried to linger around any room you were in, how he stutters or stumbles over his words whenever you speak to him, how he desperately seeks your attention and approval, often agreeing with whatever you say.
"don't worry about it," he nibbled on your lower lip, his voice dropping to a soft whisper, “i’m sure he will love to hear you screaming how much you love my—"
"mark!" you whispered loudly, hitting his shoulder in a playful manner, drawing a chuckle from him. mark led you to his room and gently pushed you down onto the bed. despite your protests, you made no effort to stop his advances.
mark didn't pay any mind to closing the door, his focus entirely on you. he quickly climbed over you, ravishing your lips in a needy kiss. his hands roamed all over your body, slipping under your shorts and soon under your panties, his touch eager and urgent.
meanwhile, hyuck watched the scene unfolding before him, holding his breath in anticipation. he could feel his boxers becoming increasingly tight, constricting his growing arousal. he tried to look away, to distract himself from the sight of you and mark together. he knew he shouldn't be watching, but he just couldn't tear his gaze away.
mark spoke against your lips, sensing the pair of eyes fixed on you both. "he's watching us," he murmured. "again?" you questioned softly, stealing a quick glance towards haechan's room and noticing him lingering there, peeking through the crack in the door. mark smirked, pulling away to whisper in your ear, "i had an idea....”
haechan noticed a shift in the atmosphere and became concerned that he might be found out. he couldn't quite make out what mark was whispering in your ear, but he saw the faint smile on your lips and the glimmer in your eyes as you listened intently to mark's words.
haechan's worry evaporated into thin air as soon as you changed position on the bed, Instead, he just opened the door wider to get a better view. mark was now behind you, your back resting against his chest, and both of you were facing him. in a more logical state of mind, hyuck would have found it strange, but in the moment, he was beyond caring when he saw you sliding your shorts down.
it felt like his breath hitched in his throat as he caught a glimpse of your panties, and his eyes were glued to your every move. he bit his lip, watching as you slowly pulled them off, revealing more of yourself to him.
when you finely pulled it off, he moaned softly at the sight of your legs spread wide open for him, your pussy dripping wet. he thought he was going to cum right there. he didn't even notice when he himself pulled down his own pants, freeing his aching cock that stood proudly and ready.
he slowly wrapped his hand around his shaft, the dry sensations of his mouth were suddenly replaced by the wetness of his tongue as it moistened his lips, swallowing hard as he saw mark's hand caressing the inside of your thigh as he kissed you.
“mmh, look at this,” mark mused with a small smile as his fingers found their way to your pussy, parting your folds and teasing your entrance, a gasp escaping your lips. “you’re so wet, babe,” he bit your shoulder softly.
haechan's knees felt like they were going to give out, but he managed to stand firm, his attention completely fixated on your beautiful cunt. he started to stroke his dick slowly, the precum facilitating movement.
“don’t close your legs, let him see how good you are to me, huh?” mark whispered in your ear, not giving you the chance to respond by sliding two fingers inside you, pumping slowly while watching your reaction, delighting in your moans and whimpers.
haechan did the same, watching as mark's fingers disappeared inside your hole, how eagerly you welcomed him. hyuck's grip on his dick was a little tighter as he quickened his pace at the same time mark quickened his, all his senses focused on the lewd sounds of your cunt and the priceless sight before his eyes.
donghyuck didn't even notice when he was the one moaning, and it wasn't a subtle sound, he was loud. he was imagining what it would be like to shove his cock in your tight pussy, imagining that it wasn't his own hand that he was fucking now, but you.
he focused into hearing your sweet moans, the way you tried to close your legs and mark held it place, fucking his fingers into you while rubbing your clit.
“fuck,” hyuck's jaw clenched, his cum beginning to pearl at the tip of his cock, ready to spurt out. he moaned your name shamelessly, his head thrown back, letting out a tortured groan, his hand faltering for a moment before regaining its rhythm, his fingers flying over his cock in a blur, "fuck...", he growled, sweat beading on his forehead, his muscles trembling with restraint.
"that's it, babe," mark murmured in your ear, his kisses trailing down your neck. "i know you're close," he continued, his voice filled with desire. "i want you to call for him when you reach that point. can you do that for me?” mark nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, eagerly anticipating your response.
your words came out in a shaky and breathless whisper, "y-yes," was all you managed to utter in that moment. your toes involuntarily curled, and your fingers clutched tightly onto mark's thigh, pressing your back against him as you felt the mounting pressure building towards your climax.
you could also hear faint sounds of pleasure coming from the other room and see the way haechan touched himself, adding another layer of excitement to the moment. unable to hold back any longer, you succumbed to the pleasure and came all over mark's fingers, your moan of hyuck's name escaping your lips just as he had requested.
he wasn't expecting that at all. the way his name came from your lips right when you were cumming made donghyuck's control snap, his cum jetting out in thick, ropesy strands, coating his hand, a triumphant cry torn from his lips as he came hard, his body shuddering with release.
both of you and haechan were panting, riding out of your orgasms. mark whispered a few praises on your ear followed by sweet kisses before turning his attention for haechan.
he gave a mischievous chuckle, his voice slightly raised as he posed the question, "yo, did you enjoy the show?" hyuck's heart skipped a beat as the reality of the situation hit him, his eyes widening in shock. he quickly tried to compose himself, awkwardly yanking up his pants in a flustered panic, nearly tripping and falling to the floor.
"i-i-i’m sorry," he stuttered frantically, desperately avoiding eye contact as he looked down at his feet. however, he was taken completely by surprise when your unexpected question echoed through the room. "you wanna join us?" his head shot up in disbelief, his heart racing at the proposition and his cock backing to life again.
his throat went dry and his stomach flipped, the sudden request leaving him speechless. he couldn't believe what he just heard, but before he could even begin to form an answer, his body seemed to move on its own, and he found himself walking towards mark’s room in quick steps.
you and mark shared a knowing glance, both unable to suppress a laugh as you noticed the hasty decision he had made. there he stood awkwardly in front of you, his flushed cheeks and downturned gaze only adding to the charm of the situation.
mark let out a chuckle, his gaze fixed on hyuck as he caressed your thighs absently. "dude, chill," he joked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "it's not like this is the first time you've acted like a perv," you chimed in, finding his demeanor endearingly adorable.
before he could even protest, you reached out and took his hands, gently pulling him toward you on the bed. the mere touch of your skin against his sent a shiver down his spine, his nerves singing under the simple contact.
his heart pounded in his chest as you guided him onto the bed, his breath hitching as he found himself suddenly so close to you. hyuck's mind was racing, trying to comprehend what was happening and how he had ended up in this situation.
hyuck glanced hesitantly at mark, who was still seated behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist. he couldn't shake the feeling that he shouldn't be there, that he was intruding on something private. he nervously sought approval from his friend, expecting anger or disapproval, but instead, mark responded with an earnest nod of encouragement.
hyuck's gaze met yours, and he saw the desire burning in your eyes, leaving him feeling breathless. for a moment, he wanted to ask if this was really happening, but the words died on his lips as you cupped his face and brought him even closer. his breath came out in uneven gasps as you hovered your lips tantalizingly close to his.
he could feel your warm breath against his skin, a delicious torturous tease, and he leaned in instinctively, his own breaths shallow as he sought to close the tiny gap between you. the heat of the moment made his head feel light, and all he could focus on was the magnetic pull between you two.
you pull back slightly as he leans in, his anticipation palpable. "patience," you whisper, your voice sultry, drawing out the moment. your hands trail down his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath. you let your finger linger on the edge of his shirt, a mere inch away from slipping under the fabric and caressing the skin beneath. "you've waited long enough, haven't you?”
you see the mix of frustration and desire in his eyes, the way he looks at you begging to be touched. but you're not done playing yet. you lean in and whisper in his ear, your breath hot against his skin. "are you going to be patient and wait for me like a good boy?" your fingers lightly trace the outline of his collarbone, making him shiver.
“y-yes, i'll be good, i-i promise,” you can hear the desperation on his voice and feel the tension in his body, his muscles taut and coiled like a spring, ready to snap. your fingers trail down to the waistband of his pants, and you toy with the fabric, pulling it slightly before letting it snap back into place.
you hummed with satisfaction, leaning in to nuzzle your nose against his ear. you could sense the way he craved your attention and knew how long he had been silently pining for you. deciding to give him a little taste of what he had been yearning for, you whispered sultrily, "i think you deserve a little reward,” you purred. “you want it?
he eagerly begged, his voice strained and desperate. "yes, yes, please, anything," he whined, his body practically writhing with need as he tried to press himself closer to you. it was as if he was a little puppy, anxiously seeking affection from its owner. "i-i'll do anything, just please touch me.”
you couldn't help but laugh warmly as you held his face in your hands, and he eagerly leaned into your touch like a well-behaved pet. you didn't want to make him wait any longer, so you quickly pulled him into a kiss, greedily delving your tongue into his mouth with a feverish intensity. he moaned in response, his body melting under your touch as his lips eagerly sought out yours, hungrily kissing you back.
he tasted sweet and addictive, and you felt yourself getting lost in the kiss, the way his mouth moved against yours, the little sighs and gasps that escaped him.
your hands slowly slid down from his face, exploring the contour of his neck before dropping lower and lower. they slid under the waistband of his pants, finding their target with a highly precision. you wrapped your hands around his hard cock, causing his gasp to mingle with a loud moan as the sudden sensation overloaded his senses.
the reality was so much better than any fantasy he had ever entertained. he had spent countless hours imagining what it would feel like to have your hands on him, but never in his wildest dreams could he have anticipated the sheer thrill of your touch.
his hips stirred, a slow roll, a lazy, indulgent movement, his cock starting to swell under your ministrations. his hips began to move, subtle, rhythmic, urging your hand to follow the motion.
instead of the pleasure he sought, you gave him a tight squeeze, just enough to make him wince slightly. it was a clear warning for him to stop, and he immediately obeyed, his face contorting in discomfort before settling back into a neutral expression. his body tensed up as if preparing to resist, but he managed to hold back his usual impulsive reaction, instead listening to your wordless reprimand.
"i thought i told you to be patient, hyuck," you scolded gently, your grip on him growing firmer. he let out a cry of apology, his soft plea of "i'm sorry, i'm sorry" escaping his lips. the pained expression on his face was a clear display of his submission, his body quivering under the pressure of your touch.
mark's voice reached your ears, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "babe, i’m starting to feel a little jealous here," he teased, his hands slowly roaming under your shirt, their path heading towards your chest.
you couldn't help but break your focus on hyuck for a moment, loosening your grip on his dick. your attention turning to your boyfriend as you felt his hands roaming freely underneath your clothes.
“i'm sorry, he just so cute,” mark held the side of your face and turned your head towards him, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, silencing your giggle.
haechan watched from the sidelines, feeling a pang of longing as he saw the affectionate display between you two. he could feel his desire growing stronger, eager to feel your touch again and to kiss you once more, the way your hand remained still on his throbbing cock making all that feel even more torturous.
mark opened his eyes and threw a quick glance at haechan, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips, as if noticing the boy's silent yearning.
mark spoke playfully against your lips, “i think he’s trying to steal your attention from me again," he teased. you couldn’t help but smile at his words, pulling away and glancing back at donghyuck, who was once again looking at you with those puppy eyes, obediently waiting for your attention.
you looked at hyuck and gave a gentle command, "take off your clothes, hyuck. i can't touch you properly like that, hm?" before you even finished your sentence, he was already shedding his clothes, his eagerness to feel your touch overriding any self-consciousness he might have felt at the moment.
mark seized the opportunity to slowly remove your remaining clothing, relishing the sight of your naked form on full display for him. it was almost comical how he was the only one still fully clothed, but he had plans to make you beg for him later.
hyuck almost came on the spot when he saw you completely naked, the sight much better than anything he had ever imagined.
you adjusted your position, sitting on mark's lap, your legs on each side of him. meanwhile, hyuck stayed beside you, your mouth almost salivating at the sight of his throbbing dick, begging for relief. mark's hands moved over your sides, slowly gliding up to your boobs.
his thumbs brushed against your nipples, teasing, circling, his fingers closing around your breasts, squeezing gently, tenderly, his head dipping low, his hot breath washing over your skin, making goosebumps rise, before his lips closed around one nipple, sucking hard, pulling a tiny whimper from your lips.
before haechan could even feel a pang of jealousy, wanting to experience the same pleasure as mark, he was quickly distracted by your hand wrapping around him once more, gently stroking his length. the sudden attention made him forget whatever thought he had.
his lips curled into a snarl, a mix of pain and pleasure, as your fingers constricted around him, the strokes agonizingly slow, driving him to the edge, "...faster...", he ground out, his body straining against yours, his hips bucking up, involuntarily seeking relief, "...harder...", his hands grasped the sheets beside him, knuckles white, fingernails digging in. “please,” he pleaded.
deciding to comply with his request, you moved your hand faster. his head tossed back, the veins in his neck bulging, his breathing ragged, gasping, "y-yes, please," he managed to whine through the pleasure, his voice barely audible as the words left his lips in a pleading whimper.
he looked at you with tears in his eyes, the feeling of your touch overwhelming him, his moans of your name spilling from his lips like a desperate prayer. he looked wrecked, a mess of tears and whines, his eyes begging for more, unable to form any coherent words.
he wouldn't last long, he was already on edge. “cum for me, love,” your beathy words were like a cue, his cock pulsating in your hand, spilling streams of cum, warm and sticky. the cry came from his throat, primal, raw, unbridled, as he came apart at the seams, lost in the blissful chaos of ecstasy.
if that's how he acts with just a simple handjob, you can't even imagine how he will look when you actually fuck him.
his chest heaved, still catching his breath, his eyelids fluttering open, dazed, unfocused, his pupils dilated, darkening further as his gaze locked onto mark's sucking your tits, he wanted to make you feel good too, his mouth watering at the prospect, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.
“don't worry, hyuck,” you let out a soft moan, his name falling from your lips like a sweet praise, bringing his attention back to you. "we're just getting started, sweetie.”
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obsidian-pages777 · 3 months
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Pick a Card: Your Next Lover. Pick a Date Outfit Theme
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Left to Right- Pile 1-> Pile 3
[Bonus: Actor Gifs for each pile]
Introduction
This is just a general reading, and tarot is not a definitive answer to the future. It's a tool for self-reflection and exploration. However, pick a pile trust your intuition and choose the pile that resonates most with you. This reading gives a description of your future lover and the nature of your future relationship.
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Pile 1: The Dreamer and the Defender (Page of Cups, Nine of Wands, 7 of Cups)
This pile suggests a lover who is a curious idealist (Page of Cups), someone with a vivid imagination and a romantic spirit. They might be an artist, a writer, or someone who brings a sense of wonder to the world. They are also fiercely independent and resilient (Nine of Wands), a fighter who will stand by their convictions but they also might have a capacity of being burnt out often. There's a touch of indecisiveness here (7 of Cups). They may have a tendency to get lost in daydreams, making it challenging to settle on a clear path.
Nature of the Relationship: This could be a whirlwind romance, full of passion and exploration. You might inspire and support each other's dreams. However, there's a potential for confusion or a lack of direction if you both struggle to commit. Open communication and a shared sense of purpose will be key to building a strong foundation.
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Pile 2: The Bold Visionary and the Joyful Connector (Knight of Swords, Ten of Pentacles, Three of Cups)
This pile points towards a lover who is ambitious and driven (Knight of Swords). They have a clear vision for their future and the determination to achieve it. They might be a leader in their field or someone who sets high goals for themselves and others. Additionally, they value security and stability (Ten of Pentacles) and desire a sense of abundance in life. They are also social and enjoy celebrating life's joys with loved ones (Three of Cups).
Nature of the Relationship: This could be a partnership built on mutual respect and shared goals. You may motivate and inspire each other to reach your full potential. There's a strong possibility for a happy, fulfilling life together, filled with laughter and shared experiences. However, be mindful of the Knight of Swords' assertive nature and ensure there's room for compromise and emotional vulnerability.
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Pile 3: The Transformation and the Builder (Ten of Swords, Emperor, Death)
This pile is a bit more complex. The Ten of Swords suggests a past ending or a period of hardship that has brought about significant change. Your future lover might be someone who has overcome a major challenge and emerged stronger. They could possess a powerful and stoic personality (Emperor), a natural leader with a clear vision for the future. However, the Death card suggests a willingness to let go of the past and embrace change. They might be guarded emotionally, still processing their past experiences.
Nature of the Relationship: This connection could be transformative, one that pushes you both to grow and evolve. Your partner might offer stability and guidance (Emperor). However, there could be an initial emotional distance due to past wounds. Patience, understanding, and a willingness to open up will be crucial for building trust and intimacy.
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hero-the-meep · 9 months
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Why is the Doctor making Donna a cup of coffee so significant?
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Well, he is trying to impress her, to get her to travel with him again – like he tried to do by using the TARDIS to make it snow at Christmas the first time he asked her to travel with him.
But he got that attempt wrong. Donna doesn't like Christmas, and the Doctor having the power to make it snow "scared her to death."
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A cup of coffee, just how she likes it, is (on the surface of it) a smaller gesture to show that he remembered the little details about her. A cup of coffee is what brought them together all those years ago.
But it's what Donna told the Doctor about what Lance making her that cup of coffee meant to her that the Doctor really listened to and remembered.
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"I was temping. I mean, it was all a bit posh, really. I'd spent the last two years at a double glazing firm. Well, I thought, I'm never going to fit in here. And then he made me a cup of coffee. I mean, that just doesn't happen. Nobody gets the secretaries a coffee. "And Lance, he's the Head of HR, he didn't need to bother with me. But he was nice, he was funny. And it turns out he thought everyone else was really snotty too. So, that's how it started, me and him. One cup of coffee, and that was it."
Donna fell in love with Lance because he made her a cup of coffee. So used to being unnoticed and uncared for, something as simple as an 'important' man taking the time to make her a cup of coffee meant everything to Donna.
She thought it was a sign that he was kind, that he was nice. She thought it was a sign he noticed and cared for her.
And the Doctor sees how it devastates her to learn the real reason why he was making her coffee was to drug her for his own ends. Despite their differences, he's gentle when he breaks it to her. And it connects her to him in a shared grief.
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So when the Doctor makes her a cup of coffee after she regains her memories, he's not just telling her that he remembers the little details about her like how she likes her coffee, but the big things too.
He's showing that he sees her, that he cares about her thoughts and feelings, that he wants to care for her after all these years when he couldn't. That he knows how important this is to her.
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But that's not all.
In the alternative timeline, Donna never meets Lance. And yet, when she is upset, and afraid, she asks Rose Tyler for a cup of coffee. Steam rises from her mug as they stand around the console inside the dying TARDIS, and have the most honest conversation they've had yet about the Doctor and their feelings towards him.
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In the proper timeline, the person we see Donna drinking coffee with is Wilf. In moments of joy and moments of upset they bond over coffee. Before she finds the Doctor again, Donna brings Wilf a thermos to escape Sylvia's criticisms.
Wilf is the only person in Donna's life who she can be herself around, who has unconditionally cared for her, and who she takes joy in caring for back.
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Even in the alternative timeline, Wilf has held onto not only the telescope but the exact same thermos Donna brings him coffee in when he's up on the hill.
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For the Doctor to remember how she takes her coffee, we know they must have had moments together like this off-screen too.
So when the Doctor makes her a cup of coffee, just how she likes it, he is communicating he remembers not just the small details of her but that he remembers all these things that she associates with making someone a cup of coffee – kindness, acceptance, being noticed, caring for someone and being cared for, home, and family.
It's possible, for the Doctor, there's an apology in that cup of coffee too.
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But wait, there's still more.
Did Donna spill the cup of coffee on the console on purpose?
The slight of hand was rather obvious. And it came at a time when Donna was trying to convince him not to leave her, to come back home to her, if only just for a visit.
He'd not said no, but she'd easily seen through him the first time he lied about coming inside to have dinner with her family that first Christmas, and likely saw through him again – the avoidance of eye contact, fiddling with the TARDIS, the wane "yeah, maybe."
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She also rather clearly wanted to go on another trip with him (she never wanted to stop in the first place), and was only saying no because of her obligations to her family. It's possible she was buying time by spilling the cup of coffee – just one more than one last trip, without it being her "fault."
She had, after all, just dropped a cup of coffee on a computer and lost a job she'd probably hated, knowing Donna. And before things had gone really wrong, she'd definitely been enjoying herself.
It's also possible she's still quite angry with the Doctor, but unable to fully verbalise this yet.
He connects the cup of coffee to remembering every detail of her. She has not been able to remember any detail of her life with him. The last time they were standing around the console together, he took her memories against her will. He says it killed him; but she – or that version of herself, the one she actually liked – was arguably the one who was killed.
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And she might be remembering Lance, another man she truly loved and trusted, and how a cup of coffee seemed like a kindness but was in fact a lie, a violation.
The Doctor quite possibly also suspects something like this is what might have happened, given his level of anger at her.
Despite the fact that this Doctor is more able to admit his feelings, we don't see what happened between them when he took her memories ever properly resolved in words.
Instead, there are a series of proxy arguments that stand in for it – Donna's anger that she gave away all her money because of him, that he sees taking the slow path, living a life day after day as such agony when he made her do it, his anger at her faith that he will know how to defeat the Toy Maker.
And their most emotional proxy argument of all – who is at fault for stranding them at the edge of the universe? Is it Donna, who spilt the cup of coffee, or the Doctor, who she couldn't stop from wandering off?
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Thematically, however, there is some resolution. The Doctor lets Donna decide to regain her memories, even if it means she'll die. The Doctor knows Donna enough to save her from being left to die alone, even if it is at the very last moment. The Doctor admits he used to think he knew everything, but now he knows he doesn't.
Donna gets to tell him it's not all about him saving her, gets him to stop, finally gets him to come home with her.
And in their last scene, it's the Doctor who is having the cup of coffee.
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biceratops7 · 1 year
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I’m gonna SCREAM-
We’ve already established as a fandom that Metatron could teach a masterclass on gas lighting, but I wanna talk about how he specifically validates the things Aziraphale cares for while simultaneously devaluing them under the surface.
First off, this moment?
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Tells us everything we need to know. It sets the scene for exactly the games Metatron is playing. He makes Muriel feel important while openly insulting them (flat out calling them stupid), aka seamlessly reinforcing the idea that they’re less than to both them and anyone else in the room. He knows he can get away with this easily, he knows that Muriel, lonely, overlooked little Muriel, will be completely distracted by the fact that someone so important is taking an interest in them.
This is already horribly clever, but then later on you realize it’s doing even MORE heavy lifting when he appoints Muriel to run the bookshop. “See? What’s important to you is what’s important to me! I’ve graciously taken the time to ensure your beloved shop is looked after by Muriel. You know, the dim one!” …let’s suffice it to say he’s ensnared too birds with one net for this one, and that a pattern is already starting to arise.
So when Metatron says Gabriel came to Aziraphale because he’s a “natural leader” and “doesn’t just tell people what they wanna hear”? Yah he’s full of shit. Aziraphale struggles with his sense of purpose when he doesn’t have someone or something guiding him, and for thousands of years he’s been terrified of sharing his true feelings and opinions to 90% of people he’s known. Completely just trying to butter him up. Wanna know the real reason Gabriel seeks asylum with Aziraphale?
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Exactly this. Gabriel just says so point blank. It’s not because Aziraphale is this person for him, it’s because despite knowing nothing, he has this instinct that Aziraphale is the only one who can possibly understand why Gabriel did what he did. He is, I mean as far as we know, the only other angel who has fallen in love. (In general, let alone with a demon.)
But nope, can’t have that. We can throw the promise of restoring Crowley in the mix to sweeten the pot, but we can’t acknowledge why he’d want that so badly in the first place. So now it’s cause they work so well together. We can praise the angel for the fallen archangel Gabriel himself coming to him protection and guidance, give him a gold star. But we couldn’t DARE imply that it was by virtue of Aziraphale’s courage to choose earthly love over heavenly. How Gabriel didn’t need a leader, but a friend who’s truly known the joys of adoring that “particular person” and the pain of needing to hide it.
Cause then Aziraphale would start getting crazy ideas, like that his silly little human feelings have a great deal of worth. That they have the power to inspire, form cracks in the institution, fundamentally weaken what has controlled and harmed him. We wouldn’t want him to know the true value of the cards he holds when he has the ace in a match against you, now would we? After all…
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Metatron uses this ingeniously sinister tactic of taking away Aziraphale’s choice while giving the illusion that he’s actually opening up doors. Notice how he tells Aziraphale he would have the authority to do something as extraordinary as turn a demon into an angel, yet he never once puts the much simpler alternative of just working with a demon on the table? The sleight of hand here is that he’s being offered the opportunity to freely be with Crowley… but he’s already freely with him as is, no bargain to be made. In fact he fought to be. Metatron disappears this accomplishment right before our eyes, while seamlessly maintaining the illusion to Aziraphale that he (Zira) is in control.
He sets Aziraphale up for failure by only providing the option he knows Crowley will not only decline but be deeply hurt by. It’s all so cleverly planned. Once this plays out exactly how he wants, he delivers the finishing blow by diminishing Crowley and his “damned fool questions”. Suddenly doing a complete 180 and emphasizing how foolish and troublesome he is. Metatron was offering Crowley by Aziraphale’s side as The Carrot. Now he’s telling Aziraphale it was stupid of him to want The Carrot, un-heavenly.
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Aziraphale’s life, love, happiness, it’s all not only a massive inconvenience for Metatron but a liability. He has successfully taken a weapon from Aziraphale’s hands he didn’t even know he had. Metatron sees the writing on the wall, and he wants it contained.
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