#this is a plant blog now I guess

[arcane-ally]

Not me having to drag my plants back inside (ONCE AGAIN) because it's too coold in stoopid Canadia

[qqqqqqqqqqq0]

[lalunanymph]

TOAST TO CLICHES IN A DARK PAST

not even another man's ring on your finger can stop sylus from taking what's rightfully his

warnings: fem!reader, ex-boyfriend sylus, toxic!sylus, mean!sylus, reader is engaged 🤭, cheating, oral s/ex, unprotected s/ex, collars, possessiveness, blank and ageless blogs dni

dawn says: i wrote this with one hand can you tell.... ALSO surprise at the end wbjwhjdkf ;)

“Hey, it’s me.” You can almost picture the scowl on his perfect features. “Let me in.” If patience was a virtue, waiting for another moment must be his vice.

Another sharp rap on the door shatters your peaceful evening. 

“Y/N, I’m here for my things. Open the door.” 

You decide it’s either now or never to get this over with him. 

Standing from the couch, you muster the scariest scowl you can plaster on and answer the door. “I heard you for the first time.” 

Right at your threshold, a 6 feet 2 menace stands clad in his sweatpants and compression black shirt, biker jacket hanging from his tall frame, those vermillion eyes raking up and down your figure, suddenly making you feel too self-conscious. 

You’re in a pair of gray shorts and a tank top, nothing too fancy or scandalous, yet there’s a pressing heat behind his gaze which makes your skin flush like you’re presenting yourself before him in a risque piece of lingerie.

Your mouth curls around his name like it's a cud you can’t wait to spit out. “Sylus.”

He tips his head forward. “Y/N.”

The both of you don’t say a word, and you feel much too exposed. Anyone could pass by and see you speaking to him. The ring on your finger is heavy, and you subconsciously hide it behind your back, not wanting him to see it and comment.

“Nice rock.” Too late. Your scowl deepens and you huff a sigh. 

“You said you forgot your insurance file? That’s not like you.” The sneer that carves your face is nothing in comparison to his smirk.

“I’m here for it and nothing else,” he clarifies, sweeping his gaze over you as he sweeps past you. “Don’t you hope for anything else.”

“Wh—hey,” you trail after him, spluttering indignantly. It’s just like your ex-boyfriend to walk in and claim the space as his own; large build and larger than life personality swallowing all the air in your lungs and in this room. 

He plants his hands on his hips, surveying the newly decorated living room with cool distaste. “Looks like your plan to scrub me clean from your life worked, sweetie,” the nickname drips from his lips with condescension. “It’s so… clinical.”

He’s mocking you. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and your hands clench to fists by your side.

“We love the combination of gray and white,” you say past gritted teeth. “The red-black abomination you had going on was an absolute eyesore.”

“Oh,” he flickers his gaze back to you, completely disinterested. “I see. I guess you didn’t just get engaged to some random schmuck to get back at me.”

The ring around your finger is heavy enough, tempting you to smash it through his mouth. You scoff. 

“You’ve never changed, Sylus. Always mean—always a loser.”

With a single word, you find yourself pushed against the wall, your ex towering over you. The smell of his rich leather and spiced cologne swims in your head, driving you dizzy. Heat engulfs you as his arms come up on either side of your head.

“You know how this works, sweetie,” his smooth, rich tone bathes you in that blessed timber, making a shiver crawl up your spine. “We fight, we break up. You text me, I come over and—”

He’s much too close. Too overwhelming. 

Sylus waits for you to finish his sentence.

“Come on now, kitten,” he purrs. “What is it we do whenever you come crawling back to me?” 

You refuse to answer him, despite the ache spreading right at your core. You huff and turn your face to the side, finding refuge from those searing darkened eyes.

“You can’t do this to me anymore, Sylus. I feel nothing for you.”

“Nothing, huh?” If there’s one thing your ex loves more than this toxic rollercoaster you want no part of anymore, it’s the challenge of getting you back on it. 

“I’m engaged,” you emphasize, a sinking realization of this mistake washing over you. You should’ve never allowed him to come back. 

“This flimsy thing?” He plucks your left hand from your side, a sneer curling on his mouth. “Two weeks. You thought you could replace me in just two weeks?”

“We were friends—”

“He can’t treat you like me.” With the bold declaration, Sylus grows more audacious. He bends his head forward, eyes close and chest rising—inhaling your sugary vanilla body wash straight from your neck. “Can’t put you in your place like I do, sweetie.”

Your eyes involuntarily flutter shut and Sylus takes this chance to pounce on your jugular. “Where’s my insurance file, sweetie? Do you know?”

Vaguely, you recall seeing it in your bedroom. “It’s in ou—my room.”

Sylus doesn’t comment on the slip up, corners of his lips twitching. “Well? What’re you waiting for? Go get it for me, sweetie.”

Your nostrils flare, anger coursing through you. Does this guy think you’re his maid or something? 

“Go get it yourself.”

With Sylus, everything is a game. A struggle for power. He snorts and turns his gaze to the expensive Rolex on his wrist. “When does he get off?” Your ex’s sneer deepens. 

Knowing who he’s talking about, you match his energy with an eye roll. “In a few hours—”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” 

Throughout this little bantering session, Sylus never once lost his cool; calm and teasing like the asshole he usually is. This time a flash of anger sears through his tone and you falter, the repressed heat inside you lifting its head to scent the sticky sweet danger clinging in the air.

Warning, the nerves in your body scream. Stay alert.

You shut the voice down, crossing your arms. “Or, what?” You try to mimic him with one brow raised. “What’re you going to do to me?” 

Sylus doesn’t immediately react. That’s why he’s a risk to deal with—one wrong move and you could go falling back into the wolf’s den. He bides his time, staring at the silver rings adorning his slender fingers, knuckles split and bruised from his love of violence in the ring.

“The sooner you get the file for me, the faster I will get out of your life,” he smoothly interjects. “Unless… you want me?” 

He stands up lightning fast, cornering you again with his staggering presence, making you take one step back. 

You touch your throat on instinct, and Sylus chuckles.

“What? Cat got your tongue, kitten?” The use of your favorite nickname sends a wave of heat rising inside of you, the flush warm and demanding on your cheeks. Sylus doesn’t reach out to touch you, but he doesn’t need to if he wants to turn you on. 

One look. A careless brush against the back of your thigh and you’re aching all over.

“It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” A drop of sympathy colors the waters of his deception, and your shoulders loose their stiff edges, walls coming down a fraction. “No one can do those things to you… make you feel like that…”

He’s speaking in riddles and it’s successfully scrambling your mind.

“Sylus—”

“Turn around.” 

You inadvertently raise the stakes by shaking your head.

“What did you do, kitten?” His voice is smooth, but underneath, there’s a zing of livid distaste. Sylus never likes it when you defy him.

His jaw clenches, but he’s focused on the long game. Sylus hums. “Come on. We shouldn’t waste anymore time. Take me to your bedroom.”

The shivers wrack you tenfold and it’s borderline criminal to bring your ex back into the room where you laid with and fucked your fiance. Electricity crackles in the empty spaces, and you try your best to ignore the current sparking on your tongue. 

“Check under the bed,” Sylus suggests, doing nothing but stand by the wall, arms folded. Expecting you to pull the most weight.

You pause, sending him a look of indignation. “Why’re you ordering me around? You do it.”

Instead of adopting a look of contrition or remembering his manners like any normal person would, your psychopath of an ex shakes his head. He starts to shrug off his jacket; enjoys how wide your eyes become when he removes his shirt and tosses it to the ground.

“Sy—” you hiss, but he interrupts you with a raised brow. 

You turn mute, bunching your fingers together in front of you, a curious part of you wondering what he’ll do next—the depths of depravity he will drag you back into. 

“You don’t get it, do you?” He steps closer and closer, pushing you to the edge of the bed where you have nowhere to escape.

“I know you, sweetie. I can sense when you’re excited. I own you. You want this—you want me.” You drop your gaze, suddenly afraid of him looking into your eyes. Sylus tastes of your impending surrender right on the tip of his tongue. Call him a genius or a madman, but nobody can call him ignorant to his girl’s needs.

“I can give you what you want. What you’re craving for.” It’s too much—his presence, his voice, this smoldering heat. You feel like you’re going to combust. 

Without thinking straight, you press your hands flat on his pecs, trying to push him away, but all it does is make him grab your wrists, locking you in place.

“Don’t,” he warns, velvety smooth with his threats. Your white-haired devil of an ex smirks at your wide eyes, and chuckles. 

“Come on, sweetie,” he leans in closer, gathers both your hands in one of his own and tilts your head up to face him. “Look at me—look at me. Come on. Give me a kiss.”

He coaxes you with a gentle nudge, but it’s enough to send a battering ram through your defenses. The tension—so thick that you can cut it with a knife—comes to a jolting deadend and you have no choice but to give in. 

You fold, parting your lips and Sylus goes in straight for the kill.

Hot kisses devour your soft moans, sending shudders all over your skin as goosebumps erupt everywhere; Sylus kisses you with bruising accuracy, hell bent on getting his revenge. 

No one dares to leave him unless he declares it, and you’ve committed the biggest sin out there by throwing away his love. 

He pries your lips apart, plundering his tongue to tap and caress the roof of your mouth, running the tip over your teeth and twining messily with your own tongue; reducing you to sporadic moans and twitches. Encased in his arms, you feel small and helpless, a prey who has fallen right into her beloved predator’s jaws.

“Come here, sweetie.” Sylus plops himself on the edge of the bed, and brings you right onto his lap. You’re woozy and lightheaded when he starts to paw at your shorts, dragging it down—exposing the sweet white cotton hiding his favorite pussy.

Sylus tugs your panties down unceremoniously, and you barely have time to steel yourself when he murmurs, “How dare you say no to me?” 

A heavy hand lands right on your right cheek, jolting you forward. Your cry is part ecstasy, part pain.

It rebounds around the room, echoing your betrayal when he sends another hard spank on your left cheek, following it up with the right one; white heat engulfs you all over and your ass is on fire. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “See, sweetie? You’re wet. You’re leaking alllll over my thigh.” He drags the words and your humiliation out, plunging two thick fingers and dragging them through your folds. Sylus dangles his drenched fingers right in front of you and chuckles.

Something hard pokes your lower belly when he shifts you into a seating position, tilting your face up. The look of hunger he wears unhinges the last of your restraints and this time, you’re the one who tugs him by his hair, smashing your mouth hungrily to his.

The wet smacks and muffled groans of lips on lips. Moans. Bodies on fire. You’re rubbing yourself all over him.

Get on your knees, he orders feverishly, grabbing your hair and pushing you down in between his legs. Suck my cock. Go on, kitten. Suck my cock and make me feel good—you know you want to.

You obey him—of course you do. 

You can never forget the taste of him when he hits your tongue, like musk and man, saturating flavor making your eyes roll back in your head. The dopamine kicks in and Sylus swears he sees little pink hearts right in your eyes when you take him down your entire throat. 

Who is more insane—the psycho, or the one who dares to love him? 

You’ve always been a little loose in the head, but this definitely takes the cake. 

How you’re willing to risk everything—your stable life, your safe home, your fiance’s love—all for a man who plays with you like you’re his favorite toy. 

For a man who will never tell you he loves you or wants to marry you. 

Like he’s reading your thoughts, Sylus gives a strained chuckle. 

“Stop thinking about him. Just focus on me.” 

His abs undulate under your palms, and he eyes the twinkling ring on your finger with distaste. 

One way or another, he’s going to get you to remove it for him someday. 

Until then, he knows the perfect counterpart to that asshole's claim on you.

“Stop.” He pulls you from his throbbing cock, a smidge of pride staining his ego when he sees your swollen lips and the ravenous look in your eye. “Go and get your collar, sweetie.” 

It’s a risk to bring up the one item you didn’t toss into his box of belongings. But, his gamble comes back as a win when your eyes sharpen with want.

“Yeah,” he feeds off your reactions, an incubus desperate for your light. “Yeah, you still have it, don’t you, kitten?” 

The answer is painfully obvious on your face. 

“Why don’t you go and grab it?”

You move with uncertainty, but this time, Sylus allows it. He lets you feel through your emotions, knows the erotic pulse of submission must be tearing you into shreds—warring with your desire to stay faithful to some poor cuck. 

Sylus knows all this because he knows you; knows what you love, what you hate. How you taste at different times of the day. Your favorite flowers, fast food order, your preferred poison on the weekend. The cadences of your breath when you fall asleep in his arms. What your shampoo smells like when it lingers on his sheets.

He is, after all, the best owner you could ask for.

And you’re still obviously, undoubtedly, and painfully in love with him.

Your throat bobs with a hard swallow, but you don’t defy him. He swats your ass with a cheeky spank when you stand and shuffle out of the room.

“Atta girl,” he praises once you come back with your collar in hand. It’s a little dusty, but the leather is still supple. 

Sylus runs his fingers over it, flickering his gaze to you. 

You’re kneeling right between his thighs, head bent, hair gathered in one hand to expose the back of your neck. Waiting for him to reclaim you. 

Sylus doesn’t take such submission lightly.

This collar—proof of his quiet yet powerful devotion and fondness for you—is more of a commitment than that stupid band around your finger could ever be.

It’s his promise to always look out for you. Care for you. Protect you.

Love you.

Though the words don’t dislodge from the grasps of his ego, Sylus has and always will love you.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, dragging one finger down the nape of your neck. Your shudder makes an unwilling smile curve on his lips, and he snaps the leather collar around your throat, giving it a few good tugs to see how tight it is.

You turn and stretch towards him, planting a soft kiss on his lips as gratitude—a muscle reflex for the many times he’s collared you. 

Sylus deepens the kiss, running his hands through your hair and grabbing a fistful of it, directing you back towards his throbbing, leaky cock.

You lick at a clear bead of precum slipping down, flatten your tongue to run it over your favorite prominent vein. Sylus leans back against his forearms, watching his ex-lover pleasure him on another man’s bed. 

The band around his self-control is slipping, and he can’t hold back a low, drawn out groan when you suckle on the flushed, mushroom tip.

“That’s it,” he grunts, low and commanding. Such a pretty girl you are—make me feel good, kitten. You’re doing so, so well. 

His voice is an aphrodisiac in itself, making you flush hotly. Your core throbs with neglect as you pay full attention to sucking him off, putting his pleasure above yours.

Sylus isn’t stingy with his praises or affections: caressing your hair, patting your cheek, fingering your collar when you get more worked up over sucking him off.

You’re so messy it hurts. 

Drool dripping from the corners of your swollen lips. Precum smeared all over your cheeks. Eyes low and lustful—his personal wet dream came to life.

You’re halfway bobbing your head up and down his slick shaft when he stops you, gestures for you to come back up for air.

In a swift movement, he has you under him, legs tightly wound around his narrow waist; forearms roped with muscles on either side of your head. 

His red eyes bore into yours, watching your reactions with heated attention.

Your gasp as he rips your tank top off, kissing and suckling your plush tits and nibbling on your sensitive nipples until you feel positively ripe for the picking. 

He’s tempted to leave a mark on your neck, but you know him well enough too, and shake your head with a cute little teary, “N-no. Don’t.”

Sylus will let it slide—just this once. 

The warm expanse of your bare skin opens under his palms like the bright evening sky outside. 

He savors your hitched gasp that melts into a sultry groan once he stretches you out with his girthy tip. Another inch, another cry. 

Sylus falls right into your seduction and embrace, bottoming right to the hilt; his hips clip with yours, lips mere inches from your parted ones.

He devours you with hot, open mouth kisses. From your pouty lower lip to your curved cupid’s bow, he traces your mouth to memory with his own. You taste like home, he wants to tell you, but doesn’t. He’s never had a home to compare you to. 

Sylus the orphan. The vagabond. The corrupt. 

Molded deep in your body, he supposes this is the closest to a home he has.

Your fingers twine with his above your head, another hand tangled right in his frosty white hair. 

Languid rolls of his hips. Your own try to keep up—meeting him in the middle.

Say you’re mine, he growls. Say it, kitten. Say it and I’ll make you feel so good.

“Yours,” you hiccup, unable to peel your eyes off of him. 

I’m yours, Sylus. 

His thrusts send shocks of pleasure through your body, hitting the sensitive spots inside of you and making you flinch like he’s touching an open wound.

Over and over again. His mouth grazes yours. You don’t hesitate to swallow his kisses. 

You’re clinging to me like a vine, kitten. He nuzzles your hair, your neck. Smearing his lips all over your face.

His collar jingles around your neck, muffled metallic clicks mingling with the sloppy sounds of two bodies meeting again like the sea to the shore.

Your body runs hot, flushing and going taut under his own sturdy one. 

Unfurling like a flower, your release is about to wash over you like a crashing wave. He talks you through it, going yes baby come for me come for your owner I love you I owe you you’re mine forever come back to me I can make you so happy, sweetie.

You’re shuddering like someone’s run a voltage through you, holding onto him as tears gather in the corner of your eyes.

No, stop this—you can still stop this! Your mind screams but your body doesn’t listen.

Heat sparks at your fingertips, your world going hot white. 

His name tumbles from your lips, your body cramping and pulsing out his claim over you in shaking tremors; knowing exactly who it belongs to.

Fragments of your mind fall around this soft bed, and he gathers you into the tight seam of his embrace. His warmth comes next, filling you up, the walls shaking in your periphery. 

That’s it, kitten. He’s quivering, too, you notice, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your sweaty forehead. You belong to me.

He switches to his back, and you’re sprawled across his chest, breathing heavily. 

Sylus holds you like this for a long time until your rapid heartbeat steadies to the rhythm of his breath. He says nothing and you wonder what plagues his mind.

Though quiet and pondering, his fingers run up and down the curve of your spine, drawing random patterns.

The quiet and calm this lull brings could make you drift off, if it wasn’t for the fact that your fiance would be back anytime soon.

As if he reads your mind, Sylus helps you unsnap your collar, pushing the leather circlet into your hands. He doesn’t meet your gaze while he cleans you up, dressing you again to decency. 

His silence follows from the bedroom to the front door before he exhales a laugh, breaking the melancholic spell of this mistake.

“I forgot to take my file.”

It’s a thinly veiled excuse; another loophole presenting itself as a casual observation.

Those red eyes are soft when you meet them, and if you look closely, you might see them wavering slightly with hope. 

You curl your hand over the door handle, wondering if he can tell just how badly you’re trying not to tremble when you say:

“Come back tomorrow for it.”

Sylus’ broad shoulders relax and his smile is brittle with hope.

He doesn’t kiss you ‘goodbye’ though you can tell he’s thinking about it when he flickers those vermillion orbs to your mouth.

When he leaves—bike roaring down the driveway and out of your life again—you lean against the closed door, bucking into the sadness building inside of you like an explosion waiting to happen. 

Tears chase down your face, the ring on your left hand burning against your skin as you press your hands to your mouth to muffle your wails.

You don’t know what strength possesses you but you stumble to the couch, curling yourself on the plush cushions as you try to erase how sweet his lips tasted on yours. 

Your collar was quickly chucked under the bed, though you can feel its siren call demanding for more.

Demanding for him.

You don’t know how long you’ve been crying, coming back to your senses once you hear the door swinging open. 

The familiar footsteps which once gave you pure joy fills you with dread when he walks into the foyer, removing his coat and scarf to hang it up. His movements are methodical—clinical, as Sylus once said. 

That name sparks a wave of pain through your soul. You can't think of him—not right now.

You blink the tears away though it’s for naught when they wouldn’t stop welling in your puffy eyes.

Your fiance sighs deeply and you’re reminded of how stressed he’s been lately; saving lives and working late night shifts. 

He hums under his breath as he rounds the corner, taken aback by your intense stare. 

He breaks out into a smile which falls when he sees the watery look in your eyes; your runny nose and swollen lips.

“Darling?” Those emerald eyes waver when he notices your trembling lower lip. “Did something happen—?”

His name burns through your lips like it’s a forbidden curse because how dare you evoke him when you were just chanting some other man’s name a few hours ago?

“Zayne… I have to tell you something…”

— please don't ask for part 2 there won't be one lol reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <333

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, translate, take elements of my story and claim it for your own across other sites.

[aurorawritestoescape]

HALLOWEEN NIGHT

Stepdad Joel Miller x f!reader || 500 words

Summary: you’re about to leave home for a Halloween party but your stepdad has other ideas.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, step-cest, dub con but reader’s into it, legal age gap, perv!Joel, infidelity, unprotected piv (wrap it up), degradation, slutshaming, praise kink, daddy kink, swearing.

A/n: a brief and unexpected (for me too lol) visit from stepdad Joel. He won’t let me go I guess🫠 Happy Halloween, sluts (affectionate)🎃💕 dividers by @saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST || more stepdad Joel

You’re hurrying down the stairs, wearing your Halloween costume - a top, a mini skirt with a tail and cute cat ears. Almost out of the door you hear your stepdad call your name from the living room.

“What?” you ask, peeking into the room.

He looks you up and down, brows furrowed.

“C’mere.”

“What?” You repeat, getting annoyed. “I’m late.”

You know it’ll take longer to argue with him so you do what you’ve been told.

He’s sitting on the couch and when you step up to him he leans forward and plants the elbows on his knees.

Your stepdad’s dark eyes slide over your figure and he takes a sharp breath.

“Lookin’ like a damn slut. As always.”

“It’s Halloween, Joel,” you grumble, rolling your eyes at the man.

“Seems like ya celebrate it every day, sweetheart,” he mumbles as his hand darts to his crotch and he starts palming it. You glare at him but already feel the tingling between your legs. He looks so hot wearing his white undershirt and worn out gray sweatpants.

When Joel’s free hand wraps around the back of your thigh you softly gasp and try to step back but he holds you in place.

“Shhh, little kitty, ‘s jus’ daddy.”

“Joel,” you plea, your mind screaming for him to stop while your body demands for him to continue.

“Gonna have fun tonight?” His hand slides up and up until it snakes under your skirt.

Your heartbeat is booming in your throat. You’re scared that your mom will catch you two but at the same time you’re trembling with arousal.

“Mmm— I — I don’t know,” your voice is shaky. “My friends are waiting in the car.”

“Hmm, what kinda friends?” You feel Joel’s warm fingers graze your ass and softly pinch your cheek. He’s looking up at you, his eyes obsidian.

“Just my girls.”

You’re barely breathing at this point.

The pads of his thick digits push between your cheeks and he massages your pussy folds through your thin panties from behind. You wonder if he feels how wet you’re. For him. For your stepdad. Oh god!

“Hngg — your girls’ll have to wait.”

His hand leaves your pussy and he leans back on the couch.

“Ya gonna ride this dick now. Don’t worry, I’ll fill you up soon. 5 minutes tops,” he’s telling you this as his hand pulls the waistband of his sweatpants down and he frees his hard cock. How the hell is he already hard?!

You open your mouth to protest, to reason with him, to tell him you don’t have time, that your mom, napping upstairs, can wake up any moment but his cock—

his gorgeous, stiff, leaking cock—

calling to you— Your pussy wants it—needs it.

You sigh and pull your skirt up before straddling Joel’s hips.

Your hand wraps around his girthy base and you line up his fat tip with your little hole. You’re soaking wet and your cunt is sinking down on it, easily taking his massive cock, while your eyes are locked. Your stepdad moans, his lids heavy with pleasure, before a smirk tugs at his lips and he mumbles,

“Happy Halloween—my little slut.”

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3

MASTERLIST || more stepdad Joel

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40

Stepdad Joel tag @megangovier @she-could-never

[thethingything]

sometimes you end up stood in the middle of your room covered in cinnamon, dirt, and horticultural sand for the 2nd time in a week, but this time instead of an existential crisis you've been traumatised by a dentist and you're suddenly processing that you shouldn't really have tried gardening while in the middle of a fatigue flare...

[arsonanarchyandanxiety]

Sigh. I guess I'll do one of these note things.

5 notes and I'll drink a glass of water

10 notes and I'll talk to my therapist about suspecting hpd

15 notes and I'll try to keep a plant alive

20 notes and I'll start going outside more

25 notes and I'll start tracking my screentime and attempting to lessen it

30 notes and I'll write one hundred words for my book

35 notes and I'll try to pick up a hobby I used to have before depression hit

40 notes and I'll start going out in public more

45 notes and I'll talk to my therapist about managing my hypersexuality

50 notes and I'll start cleaning my room. Maybe. Possibly.

55 notes and I'll try to start reading actual books more

60 notes and I'll wash all my clothes and try to start putting outfits together

65 notes and I'll make a schedule for my schoolwork and try to start doing it everyday.

70 notes and I'll go to a pride event

75 notes and I'll talk to my sister about why I haven't been interacting with her a lot

80 notes and I'll go to my sister's house

85 notes and I'll start telling my mother when other alters are fronting with me

90 notes and I'll try to talk to my friends more

95 notes and I'll tell my mother about my ED

100 notes and I'll start going to weekly events at the local library + try to make an irl friend

Luckily I'm a small blog and idk anyone with like . Tag lists ??? So I won't have to do many of these

No spam ig. I'll add more if it passes 100 in the next like year or smth idk.

The gimmicks found me so more. As I'm writing this I got three new notifications two of which are taglists.

110 and I'll try to get into drawing again

120 and I'll write a full chapter for my book

130 and I'll ask tumblr what they think of my book

140 and I'll talk to my only irl somewhat-friend again

150 and I'll ask previous mentioned person to hang out

160 and I'll try to eat healthier

170 and I'll make an altar for the entities in my room (religion thing)

180 and I'll try to officially work with a deity (religion thing)

190 and I'll try to fix my attention span

200 and I'll clean up the dirty dishes in my room

1k and I'll try to finish writing my entire book

(Caps warning)

IVE GOTTEN LIKE 20 NOTIFS WRITING THIS NOW IM SCARED.

[leaderwonim]

𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘 — one: you slept with who?

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. lee heeseung x fem!reader, park sunghoon x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Y/N always knew that her high school was dominated by wealth and privilege. Upon having a one night stand with with popular athlete Lee Heeseung, she uncovers that Heeseung's friend group controls not only social dynamics but also school policies and local affairs, revealing a hidden world of power and manipulation behind their so called perfectly polished exteriors

masterlist | next

You woke up groaning, hand on your head as you try to make sense of what was around you.

Your head was absolutely killing you, and the mess around your room was not making things any better.

“Geez,” you whisper underneath your breath as you try to pick up some of the clothes that were on the floor, only to realize—wait—these aren’t your clothes.

You quickly turn around, eyes bulging out of their sockets when you realize Lee Heeseung is sleeping in your bed. And not just sleeping, but his clothes were discarded all over your floor.

What happened last night?

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

His voice makes you flinch back, and he raises his hands in surrender, not knowing you’d react so sensitively.

“Sorry.” He mumbles, before leaning over to check his phone on your nightstand. “Shit shit shit.”

“Do you remember what the hell happened last night?” You asked, rubbing your forehead to try and ease the pain.

“Well—Dani threw a party, and I was going for a drink refill when I bumped into you. You were pretty bummed out I guess, something about how the scholarship money wasn’t cutting it so I thought I’d show you a good time.”

He’s scrolling through his phone now, eyes widening at the amount of messages his group chat had sent last night.

Lee Heeseung, where are you?

Did your idiot ass hop the fence again? You know the neighbors don’t like you face planted on their front lawn.

You know what? Don’t even come to the breakfast at Wonyoung’s tomorrow. You’ll probably be too hungover ㅋㅋ

“Oh..” you say, knowing full well why there were clothes all over the floor now.

Heeseung seems to not care, more focused on whatever was on his phone than the complete stranger he just had sex with the other night.

“Hanni’s gonna kill me,” he groans, standing up to grab his discarded sweatpants.

“Hanni Pham? Are you guys exclusive or something because I swear I didn’t know—”

“No, we’re not.” Heeseung quickly shakes his head. “She’s just a close friend, she’s very serious about me being punctual.”

You knew Hanni. Her and Danielle were both from Australia, and on the Decelis Cheer Squad, which intimidated the shit out of you.

Hanni and Danielle were filthy rich, hell, Heeseung himself was filthy rich. Their entire friend group screamed upper high class.

“I’m gonna go,” Heeseung motions towards the door. “Promise you won’t say anything to anyone?”

“I promise.” You say.

“Thanks, you’re the best!”

He leaves without saying anything else, making you frown.

While this was your first time hooking up with someone, this must’ve been Heeseung’s hundredth.

He made it so casual that it almost has you wondering if he sees you as anything at all.

TAGLIST (closed) @cupidhoons @lilyuwon @soobeboobe @immelissaaa @coqhee @shuichi-sama @ssukiyakii @deobitifull @sunpov @anittamaxwynnn @minjaexvz @katarinamae @capri-cuntz @jooniesbears-blog @sakanelli-afc

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovie!!! I was stalking your blog as usual (hehe) when I came across a requests from your 6k celebration of a visually impaired!reader. I was always too shy to ask something like this but i'm glad someone did! )i'm not sure if you remember)

If you feel comfortable can you please write some comfort with the marauders and a vitally impaired reader who doesn't feel like she's enough? I kinda feel useless when it comes to performing daily tasks normally because neither can I use the walking stick or. classify as a person with enough vision to be independent. Sorry for the rambling but please feel free to ignore this request if it's not your thing! all the love <333

Thank you for requesting lovely! I always get nervous about writing about groups I don’t represent, so if anything here is inaccurate or offensive at all please do let me know! I did research but there are some things too specific for the internet to have much about and I’m always looking to grow <3

poly!marauders x visually impaired!reader ♡ 958 words

When Sirius’ phone rings, James knows it’s you because he rolls over on the bed, a giant, lovesick grin spreading across his face. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” he says upon picking up. Remus rolls his eyes at his sultry tone, and Sirius kicks him lightly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

James is close enough that he can hear the sound of your voice on the other line, sweet and asking, but he can’t make out what you’re saying. 

“No, yeah, that sounds hazardous.” Sirius’ tone remains casual, but he rolls onto his back again, starting to get up. “Stay where you are, dollface, help is on the way. Yeah, the other boys are up too—wait, did you only call me because you thought I’d be the only one awake?” 

Remus snatches the phone from him. “Where are you, love?”

Sirius sulks. James gives his shoulder a few solid pats. 

It’s a good thing Remus is the one to talk to you, because the other two would have no clue the coffee shop you were talking about. It’s only a few blocks from your apartment, James notes, and you’re standing outside with your back against the wall. The interior is dark. 

“Hi, lovie!” he calls when they’re close enough. “It’s James.” 

Your head turns toward them, a little smile taking you. “Hey. Sorry to bother you guys.” 

“We were all up,” Remus says, “and we wouldn’t want you walking home by yourself this late regardless.” 

“What he means to say,” says Sirius, touching the back of your wrist, your signal that he wants to kiss you. You tilt your face up agreeably, and he plants one on your lips, “is that you could never bother us, sweet thing.” 

Your smile goes a bit bashful, chin tucking towards your chest. “I can usually navigate my way here just fine—it’s so close to my place—but I didn’t realize it had gotten so dark.” 

“Say no more.” James bumps your elbow lightly with his, offering it to you. “Since we’re here, do you want to come back to our place, or would you rather stay at home?” 

Your fingers are cool and gentle as they wrap around the crook of his arm. “If you don’t mind me sleeping at yours…” 

Sirius makes an incredulous scoffing noise. “As if we would mind.” 

“Thanks.” Your voice is quiet, a tad more subdued than usual. James takes it for fatigue. 

“Have you had a chance to eat?” Remus asks. He slips his arm around Sirius’ shoulders as he walks. The other boy looks happy as a clam. 

“No, not yet.” 

“I’ll make you something,” he offers. “Anything you’re craving? We’ve just been to the grocery.” 

“I’m alright with anything.” Still that muted tone to your voice. James looks at you curiously. After a few moments, you say again, “I'm really sorry about this.” 

“Angel, you don’t have to keep apologizing,” he says. “What’s there to be sorry for? The sun went down, you can’t help it.” 

But your expression is somber, your lips downturnt. “You had to come over here to walk me home, and now you’re making me dinner, too. I just feel…I don’t know, I guess I feel sort of useless. I need someone to do everything for me.” 

“Dove, what?” Remus looks over at you, brow furrowed. “We do more for Sirius than we do for you.” 

You look surprised and Sirius offended, but James chimes in, “It’s true. You know how much maintenance he takes. He wouldn’t set a foot out of bed in the morning if one of us didn’t make him.” 

“I think the more important point is,” Sirius interjects loudly, “that we don’t have to do things for you so much as we get to, gorgeous. Like, you could probably sort your own dinner if you needed to, but Rem and Jamie would each rather saw off their pinkie toes than let either of us cook for ourselves.” 

“I think you’d just rather I do that than you cook,” Remus mutters. 

“And as for walking you home,” Sirius blazes on, “do we seem anything less than completely stoked to be here? Because if so, please let me know. I’m clearly not doing well enough at expressing myself.” 

“Of course you’ve been great.” You tuck yourself closer to James’ side, stepping over a curb when he murmurs a warning. “You always are.” 

“We’re not just being kind, dove,” Remus says gently. “It doesn’t take much to do things for you, because we like doing them. It’s never a bother.” 

“You take care of us, too,” James reminds you. “You always listen, and you’re really good at massaging Remus’ knee when it hurts him. You’re the only one of us who the cat that comes to our back door will let touch it.” You smile, and he sets his hand atop yours, squeezing fondly. 

“It’s easy when it’s someone you care about,” says Remus, “yeah?” 

All three of them, even Sirius, let the question hang until you’re forced to answer. After a few moments, you sigh, resignation covered with a healthy coating of gratitude. 

“Yeah,” you admit. “I guess so.” 

“It has to be,” James jokes, “or Sirius wouldn’t have had a meal for years now.” 

“Alright, alright.” Sirius steps out from under Remus’ arm, walking backward so he can gesture as he talks. “I’ll have you know, you’re not so easy to live with either! You’ve not gotten any tidier since we were thirteen, and half the time I come into the kitchen after you’re done doing your saintly work for me to find the whole place smoldering—” 

“See, dovey,” Remus leans close to murmur, “how could you be any trouble when we’re already head over heels for this?’

[hyuckmov]

haechan — gold-skinned, eager baby   read part 2 here <3

'cause he's so pretty when he goes down on me gold-skinned, eager baby 

haechan x fem!reader 7.2k, smut, minors dni, a bit of fluff, basically haechan loves your boobs. not proofread i was too excited. content: chest/boobs/nipples fixation if i ever seen one, consensual somnophilia but not really because one of them is awake, a little bit of teasing and manipulating i guess, unprotected sex, masturbating with a bra (m), shower sex, titty fucking, a little mention of dumbification, dom-ish haechan turned desperate needy (and dare i say, a little bit subby...?) haechan...ngl reader doesn't get to cum a lot this is mostly about haechan a/n: thank you all for waiting i really hope this lives up to your expectations or it's at least a little hot until the call with mark, you hadn’t really noticed at all. 

“dude he’s like…fucking obsessed with your boobs.” mark insists. over video-call, there’s a slight lag between his voice and his actions, but there’s no mistaking the sincerity on his face. 

“are you sure?” you ask, skeptically. “he’s never mentioned it to me at all.” 

mark laughs. “he said he doesn’t want to seem like a perv, so he never brings it up with you.” tilting his head to the side, “i guess that’s why he keeps telling me about it. you should do something about it for your anniversary or something.” 

haechan was a careful boyfriend. you appreciated the way his hands never lingered excessively on your waist even as he was a touchy person. you appreciated how, even if you had just come out from your shower in your towel — hair dripping wet, the material barely skimming the tops of your thighs, he kept his voice as steady as possible while handing you a robe. you appreciated the effort it took for him to keep his palms planted firmly on the bed above your head even as he made love to you. even as you grabbed at him incessantly, his fingers would go white, twisting in the sheets as he held himself back. 

and yet, something in you wanted to see him lose control completely. 

“yeah,” you breathe out, slowly. “i should.” 

happy anniversary, haechan. 

x

you start out small. you just need to see if mark might be onto something. 

“haechan, what should i wear to dinner?” 

haechan had been hyping up this date night for weeks and weeks. you know he researched the restaurant extensively, reading guides and blog posts about which wine to pair with each course. and for the past 30 minutes while you got ready, he sat patiently in the living room on his phone, sitting carefully so his button down shirt and slacks didn’t wrinkle. it was one of the things you found most endearing about him — how much he wanted things to be perfect even as the two of you got close to your second year of being a couple. you just wanted things to be perfect for him too. 

now, at your question, he wanders into your room, an easy smile on his face already. crossing over to where you stand in front of your mirror, he kisses your cheek and wraps his arms around your waist, swaying from side to side. 

“that looks good, baby,” he says, sincerely. “you wanna head out now?”

“wait,” you untangle yourself from him and he steps away politely. “i’ll give you another option.” 

grabbing at the hem of your black turtleneck, a purposefully high collared choice, you tug it off you as quick as you could. you take a quick glance at the mirror, and sure enough haechan has averted his eyes at the prospect of seeing you topless. staring resolutely at the floor, you think you can almost see a red begin to tint his cheeks. 

“tell me when you’re done,” he mumbles, and you want to tilt his head up and make him look at you in the nice lacy bra you’d picked out, but you hold back. you promised you were going to start with something more subtle. 

and so you pull on a tight cropped cardigan with a low dipping neckline — one that hugs and accentuates your chest really nicely. doing up the buttons as quickly as you could, making sure it was just the right tightness, you tap him on the shoulder. 

“done.” 

observing him closely through the mirror, you see how his eyes jump instinctively to your chest, and then to your face, before they gravitate downwards again and settle into what is certainly a stare. almost as if he couldn’t resist. 

and were you imagining things, or was he breathing a little harder than before?

“haechan?” you prompt, and you bite back a smile when you see him jolt a little out of his daze, blinking rapidly. “thoughts?” 

“this one,” he blurts out. almost comically with how he can’t take his eyes off you, he darts out his tongue to wet his lips before repeating himself. “this one…it’s…you…” he swallows. “you should wear this one to dinner.” 

“it’s not too tight?” frowning exaggeratedly, you adjust your bra such that your boobs shift around a little under the top, squeezing them together. 

haechan hesitates. “actually…”, fuck he thinks to himself. because if you wear this to the restaurant, everyone will be able to see you. and he’ll be forced to pretend not to notice all throughout the meal. how the fuck, he thinks, as he watches you adjust your top again, am i supposed to think about wine pairings now?

“yes?” you revel in the way his eyes have glazed over entirely. 

“the first top.” he nods, almost as if convincing himself. “the turtleneck’s good.”

“why?” 

pause. “black looks better on you.” he slots his hands into his pockets, bouncing on his toes. “if you’re ready i’ll get the door.” 

“okay, you go on first.” you think you see relief on his face as he speedwalks out the door. 

twirling on the spot, thanking your lucky stars for mark’s tip-off, you swap out your black cardigan in exchange for the turtleneck, and head out to join your boyfriend at the doorway. 

x

it was exciting — thinking of ways to test haechan, little by little. it wasn’t that he wasn’t a passionate boyfriend, or that he was too shy. he had quite the dirty mouth if the atmosphere ever called for it, and he never attempted to hide his sounds of pleasure if you felt particularly good wrapped around him. but there was no denying that some part of him was always in control. 

because there was one version of haechan, who was something like this: 

“haechan?” 

he made a soft sound, turning to look at you from where you were seated on the other end of the couch. nights like these — with the television light illuminating your faces, haechan cozy and warm in an hoodie and sweatpants, you in one of his old shirts, with just enough of your bodies touching to give each other space and affection, — these were the nights you always felt a little more touch-starved than usual. and your boyfriend was just an arm’s length away, ready to love you in any way you ask.  

“baby?” 

you extend your arms out, reaching for him. “kisses please.” 

smiling, he reaches out and gently pulls you into his lap. your face turned towards him, the two of you beam at each other as haechan cups your face tenderly. dipping his head down so your noses touch, he goes a little cross-eyed as he basks in the feeling of your skin against his, his gaze shining with adoration. 

“okay,” he whispers, as he captures your lips in a sweet, patient, kiss. and another. and another, eyes fluttering shut to focus on the feeling, his hands never moving from the way he holds your face. afterwards, he wraps you in your arms so you can rest your head against his chest, and each time you raise your head up he kisses you indulgently. 

and when, as this progresses, your hands begin to wander purposefully to the strings of his sweatpants, he swats them away softly – the tiniest bit of flush on his cheeks as his heartbeat quickens, flustered.

“just kissing, baby,” he presses his lips on your forehead to emphasise his point. “just want to be close to you.” 

and then there was -

“haechan,” you whine. 

his head thrown back, he at least makes the effort to focus his eyes on you. but his body doesn’t stop moving, his grip on your waist bruising as he fucks up into you with more fervor. 

“yeah?” he mumbles. 

“kiss me?” 

his head snaps to you, and the side of his mouth quirks up. “hold that thought.” 

and then he’s flipping the two of you over. still inside you, he hikes your legs up and wraps them around his waist. your arms go to his shoulders instinctively, while his move upwards to cage you in. and then he goes still. 

“beg for it.” looking way too pleased with himself, he swivels his hips in slow motions, watching your face carefully to find your sweet spot, the angle that will drive you insane. he knows when he’s found it: your body shudders, your nails dig into his back and he hisses with pain. 

“haechan, please…” you whine, as he starts to pull out of you, only to slam right into that one spot inside you that makes you see stars. surrendering yourself to him, you ramble on, “fuck, please, touch me, please…” 

“what did you say, princess?” he buries his face in your neck, the way you squeeze around him and the obscene sounds of how wet you are beginning to get to him, as he begins to chase his own high. 

his hot breath on your neck, his lips brushing against skin but never sucking, his hands hovering beside you but not touching. 

control. boundaries. lines which you would like to see blurred, and crossed. 

x

you knew he would be having a long day at work. he had told you the exact timings of his most important meetings, his lunch break, consults with clients, and then the time and duration of his less important meetings. 

so nothing was a mistake when you sent him the photo of you at 3.45pm sharp, right at the last 15 minutes of his least important meeting of the day. 

because you were nothing if not considerate. 

haechan had been bored, sitting in his swivel chair, trying to maintain eye contact with the zoom conference but also scrolling on his phone when the investors rambled on for just a little too long. 

y/n: image

thinking little of it, maybe you needed an opinion on an outfit, he glanced at his laptop one more time before unlocking his phone and opening his chat with you. 

and he freezes. 

because on the screen, is a photo of you. specifically, from the waist up, wearing one of his dress shirts, unbuttoned almost all the way and pushed open so he could see the very pretty, very lacy, barely-there bra you were wearing. one that was practically transparent with its mesh and lace, your nipples in stiff peaks poking out through the material. the sizing of the flimsy bra making your breasts look even fuller, even softer, than usual. 

fuck. 

he stares at your photo, lips slightly parted. he swallows. he swallows again. embarrassingly, his slacks begin to feel a little tight. fingers uncoordinated and slow, he types out the only response he can think of. 

haechan: hi 

haechan: did you send this to the wrong person? 

while he waits for your response, he clicks back to the photo. he can’t help it, what if you decide to unsend it? the thought flits through his mind, and hurriedly, he goes to save it just in case it didn’t download to his phone. 

y/n: babe you’re my boyfriend who else would i send this too? 

haechan: oh 

haechan: right

he can’t help it. the meeting gone straight from his mind, and your conversation with him slowly making less and less sense, the only thing he can think of doing is zooming in on the photo. deep down, he’s always been obsessed with your chest, but he always felt that it was a weird thing to bring up. you’ve never expressed a fixation with any particular body part of his, and he feels wrong for all the times he sneaks glances at you: be it from over your top, or when you’re midway through changing. he would never dream of asking to touch, but god he wants to. he doesn’t even know what he wants to do with your boobs other than to see, and to touch. and here you are, handing him his first opportunity to act on the former. 

so he stares, and he stares. wildly he considers setting this photo as his homescreen. when the meeting ends, he slams his laptop quickly shut. 

he was going to have to think of a way to pretend this didn’t affect him the way it did. 

x

“needed you all day, baby,” he groaned. haechan had just gotten home, spent about 5 minutes upholding the facade that he could spend a quiet evening just chatting with you after the events of the day, before he’d finally had enough and tugged you into his lap to suck on your tongue. gasping, his body shivering with need, he separated from you just long enough to make out the words “need you. right now”.

indulging him, you kissed him back just as fiercely. “hold on,” you say, as you clamber up from the couch and cross over to the dining table. teasingly, you place a hand on the tabletop, leaning on it as you smile. 

“bend me over?” 

still slumped into his seat, haechan pokes his tongue into his cheek in thought. “why don’t you show me how you want it first?” he challenges.

diligently, you bend yourself over the edge of the table, propping yourself up on your elbows. wiggling your ass a few times in the air, and trying to ignore the fear that he’ll laugh at you, you look over at him expectantly, doing everything but batting your lashes. 

haechan does laugh at you, but not in literal amusement. the dark sound of derision he lets out shoots straight to your core, as he gets up almost lazily, strolling over to you. 

“baby wants it from the back?” 

standing behind you, he runs his fingertips down your spine, stroking your back. it would almost be a tender action if not for the fact that he takes his hand away only to place it between your spread legs. 

sliding your pants together with your panties down your legs, he continues to kiss your shoulders as he begins running his fingers up and down your slit, eliciting a whine from you. 

“haechan…please don’t tease,” you plead, as he places a gentle pressure at your clit. “need you so bad too.” 

“shhh…” he coos, continuing to make soft clicking noises as he circles his digits around your entrance. “i’ll take care of you. just need to stretch you out first, okay?” 

slowly, he scissors his fingers inside of you, pushing them against your walls. wet sounds fill the still air in the kitchen, mixed with your whispers and his continued efforts to comfort you the best he knew how. losing yourself in pleasure, the ache in your belly begins to build, your legs shaking as your hips begin to buck against him subconsciously. 

“getting excited?” he teases, removing his hands from your core. you whine, a high and embarrassing sound, but you can’t bring yourself to care beyond the disappointment at how empty it feels without his warmth. 

“wait for me, princess.” you hear the sound of haechan fumbling with his belt, the clink of it hitting the floor. and then, you feel something thick and heavy press between your legs, stroking up and down your soaked slit. “first time trying this for me too,” he mumbles, and in the cloudy haze of your mind you register that this truly was the first time haechan was fucking you from the back. 

pulling your hips towards him with a slight roughness, he eases into you. the stretch is delicious, the new angle seemingly allowing him to go deeper, and he lets out a low groan at how your walls seem to suck him in. he thrusts a few times experimentally, making you gasp. which in turn makes him still.

‘everything okay, baby?” 

“yes,” you breathe. when he still doesn’t move, you wiggle your hips again, trying to squeeze around him. “please, please haechan i need you to move-” 

“i got you.” rolling his hips with a slow and steady pace, haechan holds your sides gently. but something about it feels off to even you: there’s something not quite right with the way he’s almost quiet, the desperation that started out this entire night seemingly evaporated. 

haechan continues for only a minute more before he pulls out. 

“i’m sorry, but fuck this,” he all but spits. grabbing your hips roughly, which makes you yelp in surprise, he flips you over and pushes you further up the tabletop. you look up at him — his hair mussed up, his chest heaving, a new aggression to him as he pushes your shirt up to expose your chest. 

bingo. 

hiking your legs up so they hook around his waist, he rams back into you. your back arches with how full you feel, the blunt head of his cock dragging against your walls as he fucks into you. hard. unable to control himself, his mouth practically hangs open as he pants, moans spilling from his mouth easily. 

“need,-” he starts, before quickening his pace even further. “needed to see,-” a hand drops one of your legs, and moves to your back to unclasp your bra. shoving it up so it no longer covers your breasts, a high whine tears from the back of his throat as he sees how each thrust makes your breasts bounce.

something clicks in your head. some mixture of the adrenaline, and how sexy haechan always made you feel judging by how desperate he could get around you, boosted your confidence tenfold. 

bringing your hands to your chest, you cup your breasts with your palms and give them a firm squeeze. the lewdness of it coupled with the stimulation making you arch your back, pushing you into him. 

and haechan cums.  

x

later, with his arms draped around you sleepily, you shift a little in his hold so he opens his eyes to look at you. “about just now…” haechan nods, letting you know you can continue. “so you don’t like it when you can’t see me?” you whisper, not wanting to break the silence and the tenderness that always filled the room on late nights like these. 

he hesitates. “i love everything i do with you” he says, quietly and sincerely. a hand comes up to brush your hair out of your eyes. “you know you’re already perfect to me, right?” 

the comment makes you warm up inside. love was so easy for haechan, and he never failed to remind you of how much he loved you all the time. 

“i know.” you snuggle closer to him. “but i just want to know when it feels just as good for you as it feels for me.” 

he hums in agreement. ��maybe…” he bites his lip as he picks out the words in his head. “i think i just like to face you as we’re doing it. i like it when you…” suddenly shy, he nuzzles his face into the pillow a little so the rest of his sentence comes out muffled. “when you ride me, or when i’m on top of you.”

deciding to tease him a little, you add, “and the thing i did with my boobs…?” 

nervously, he blinks at you. “what?” 

“haechan, you came when i started playing with my chest.” 

“i j-just liked seeing you make yourself feel good,” he sits up, flustered. “i don’t-that’s not why i…” 

“okay, okay.” you get up too, leaning against the headboard. reaching out to pat him on the cheek, you feel warmth on your fingertips and decide not to push things further.  

“i just want you to know that if you wanted to try anything, you can just bring it up.” 

“i don’t want…i don’t want to try anything…” he mumbles. in the moonlight, you can see how he’s turned away from you, staring at the clock on your bedside table. 

and suddenly, you know exactly what you want to do. 

“or you can try it when i’m asleep.” 

confusedly, he turns around and blinks at you. “what?” 

“i trust you. i give you full permission to touch me in my sleep. whatever you want.” 

he gapes at you, speechless. you wonder if he’s going to protest again, you wonder if you pushed things too far. 

but something in your proposition must have stirred something in him, because eventually, he settles on asking…

“are you sure?” 

you reach over and take his hand to soothe him. “i’m sure.”

x

“has haechan mentioned anything?” 

you’re videocalling mark again. it had been a full week since you invited haechan to basically do whatever he wanted to you — a full week of staying up late and feeling him slide into bed behind you, waiting for what felt like hours. the most he did was maybe pull you towards him to cuddle, but he always did that. 

but it was also a myriad of little things you began to notice in that week. the way he would kiss you a little harder on days you walked around the house without a bra on. how he liked to hug you with his arms pressed against your upper back, pushing you into him. 

and the little things you began to do instead: wearing lower cut tops around the house, bending over so he could catch an eyeful of your cleavage. but every night, your boyfriend still lay still behind you, and you were beginning to think you had truly pushed things too far.

marks hums in thought. “not really.” he pauses. “actually, he doesn’t even talk about your boobs anymore.” 

“he doesn’t?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing. 

“nope.” mark sighs in relief. “i didn’t think the day would ever come. did you finally let him act on it or something?” 

“not really,” you grumble. 

“maybe he’s just marvelling at the freedom he has on which to love on your boobs now,” mark assures you. “i’m sure he’ll figure out what to do soon.” a pause. “sorry, is it just me or is it absurd that i’m comforting you about the fact that surely haechan will be obsessed with your boobs again?” 

“it’s a little absurd,” you concede. “am i setting feminism back by 100 years with my attempts to seduce him?”

“a little bit,” he nods, leaning back in his desk chair. “maybe just 50 years, though.”  

x 

you’re in bed, listening to the sounds of haechan busying himself putting away cutlery in the kitchen drawers. the sound of the tap running when he brushes his teeth and washes his face, the light sounds of his bottles of moisturizer and cream being capped and put away. the low hum of his voice, raspy but sweet as honey, as he mumbles a tune to himself. the click of the light switch as the room is bathed in moonlight. 

your eyes firmly closed, you feel yourself begin to doze off — if he hadn’t made a move, he wasn’t likely going to all of a sudden, right? vaguely, you hear him pad over to the bed in his slippers. 

and then he stops. 

unlike all the other nights before, he doesn’t get in immediately. even with your eyes closed, you can feel him standing there, breathing, taking in the look of you in the moonlight. 

“baby?” haechan calls, softly. 

you stay silent.

“are you still awake?” 

he reaches out a hand, and shakes you gently. you make your body go as limp as possible, keeping your breathing steady. 

“y/n?” he tries again. still nothing. 

after another pause, the bed dips as his weight settles in behind you. minutes pass, before you feel his hands come to your waist. they remain there for a while, and you can almost imagine him in the dark — pupils blown out, biting his lip. just wondering. after what feels like years, the sheets rustle as his arms wrap around you, and he pulls you into his chest. 

slowly, incrementally, you feel his hands begin to slide under your shirt. his fingertips are cool against your hot skin, fluttering with a slight nervousness, and you know it’s because he’s afraid to wake you with heavier touches. higher and higher up, his palms snake their way past your stomach, until they reach the underside of your breasts. 

another pause. 

and then, his hands slide up, the drag of it heavier this time, until he has a boob held carefully in each palm. 

you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat thundering in your chest. there’s something about all of this occurring in the dark, and in complete silence, which makes you hyper-attuned to him: the slight twitch of his fingers from his nervousness, his erratic breathing on the back of your neck. 

you feel him tense his fingers a few times, if anything, getting a feel of the soft flesh. and then, he carefully tightens his hold, squeezing each breast cupped in his palm — lightly, almost guiltily at first. as if he can’t believe he’s really doing this. you can hardly believe he’s really doing this. 

“fuck”, you hear him breathe. he squeezes harder.

his movements gentle, and barely noticeable with how slow they are, he begins to roll each 

breast in his palm. “so soft…” he breathes, and bounces them experimentally, feeling them move under his touch.

trailing his fingers inwards, he touches your nipples lightly, before rolling them between index finger and thumb, letting out a groan when he finds them grow stiff and hard. feeling around your areolae, he pinches at the skin. 

when he shifts behind you, you can feel his hard cock pressed against your lower back. 

his soft mutters and swears make you want to flip over and force his head into your chest, where you know he’ll only do better with his lips and teeth and tongue. but something about his warm palms, his fingers pushing and kneading and rolling, swiping in your cleavage, are so calming and loving that it starts to lull you to sleep. 

the last thing you register is his one of his hands leaving your chest, and the wet sounds of haechan fucking into his fist. 

x

haechan thinks he’s lost his mind. 

he used to be able to hide it. he used to be fine with glancing at you, habitually flickering his eyes to your chest when you would walk into the room or snuggling up to him. but now he’s totally fucked, because he thinks he’s developed some sort of addiction. 

he can’t remember the last time he had fallen asleep without reaching over to touch your breasts, and thumb at your nipples. his mind keeps trailing back to thoughts of going further, of kissing your chest, of sucking on your pretty tits and watching your nipples stiffen and harden because of him. 

and he thinks he’s beyond help when he finds himself standing over your open drawer, feeling himself grow hard as he bends down to run his fingers over your collection of bras, brassiere, and lingerie. 

because admittedly, ever since mark tipped you off, you had been stocking up on the pretty fabrics, testing out padded and non-padded ones, choosing colors you know haechan liked to see you in, materials like mesh and lace and cotton. 

his fingers rub against a soft, satin-y material, and he pulls it out. it’s light blue and flimsy, opening in the front, and from the way he’s memorized you through touch alone he knows it will barely cover your chest. it was a piece that would tease him more than anything, and he imagines the satin rubbing against his face, you pushing your chest into him as he unclasps it, watching the fabric fall away from your pretty breasts as you expose yourself to him. 

he can’t help himself, as he falls backwards onto the bed, scrambling so he can sit against the headboard. tugging his pants down with a movement that is too practiced, feeling his hard cock slap up against his stomach. too hurried to get any lube or lotion, scared you’ll come back from grocery shopping to find him like this, he spits into his hand and immediately starts fisting his length, the other still clinging onto your bra. he lets out a sigh of relief, his pants slowing down as he strokes himself. 

spreading the satin out on the bed, he lets his eyes fall to it as his hand speeds up. he wonders how he can request for you to wear it, and send him a picture. maybe he could put it at the very top of your pile of underwear, so you would see it. the color of it would look so pretty against your skin, would look so pretty in your mouth, would look so pretty if he… 

and then he’s grabbing the material, still soft and silky to touch, and now he’s stroking his cock with it, and the feeling makes him gasp, his hips fucking up into his fist, legs planted on the bed so he can thrust his hips up harder. the light blue, delicate material, looks obscene against the pink of his cock. 

he teases a finger over his slit and he whines, higher than he had ever heard himself. his chest heaving, he imagines you finding him, sitting on the bed, fucking himself into your bra, practically cumming at the thought of nuzzling his face into your boobs. he thinks of what you would say. 

or maybe you would get on top of him like you do, splitting yourself open on his cock as your tits bounce with each of your movements. 

he finishes to the thought of that, cumming straight into the material of your bra. the shame doesn’t hit him until after, when he’s trying to wash the stains out of it, a bright red that starts in his stomach and burns through his neck, cheeks, and ears. he’s silent all through dinner, faces away from you at night. 

but he can’t deny the thought that he wanted to do it again. and maybe all the other things he fantasized about. but how would he ever be able to tell you now?

x

the morning of your anniversary was when you decided this had to stop. all the teasing had begun to backfire, because having haechan’s hands on you every night — especially on the nights you had trouble sleeping, were making you need him badly. and he didn’t have a clue. 

haechan had woken up, kissed you on the cheek and wished you a happy anniversary, before heading to the kitchen. sitting on the edge of your bed, you thought hard about what exactly you should tell him — whether you should bring up the fact that mark was the reason all of this even happened, if you should tell him you had been teasing him, or that you had been awake on all those nights. 

suddenly, it seemed to add up to quite a lot of manipulation and lying. you felt a bit nervous. 

walking to the kitchen, you enter just in time to see him finish preparing the ingredients for the romantic breakfast he had planned. sweeping them into bowls lined up neatly on the countertop, he turns and smiles at the sight of you, standing there timidly in the entryway. 

“what’s wrong, love?” he comes over to you, draping his arms over your hips. “is everything okay?” 

swaying slightly, you look into his eyes, so full of love, and know that you can’t keep anything from him. and also that you weren’t brave enough to do it right then and there. “haechan?” 

“mmhm?” 

you hesitate. “i’m… i’m going to take a shower.” 

laughing slightly, he tilts his head to the side. “o…kay?” 

“do you want to join me?” you say in a breath.

you watch as the words hit him. slowly, he blinks at you, before he swallows, his throat bobbing. “really? that won’t make you uncomfortable?” 

“yes,” you breathe. “i want to.” 

it takes a few more assurances from you before haechan agrees, holding on to your hand as the two of you step into the bathroom. he waits for you to undress first, looking away politely as you get in the shower, before he undresses and steps in after you. as the hot water cascades over you, the steam beginning to make the air heavy, he kisses your shoulder gently before turning you around so your back is facing him. 

“i’ll wash your back for you,” he says, kindly. you hear him uncap the shower gel, and slowly start to scrub at your back lightly with the loofah. sometime between turning around and him washing your back, he’s turned off the water, and there aren’t any sounds except for foam and soap moving against skin. 

“haechan?” 

“yes?” 

you turn around. haechan lifts the loofah away from your skin and looks at you, curiously. 

“what’s wrong?” 

“wash my front for me.” 

he bites his lip, before nodding. 

“okay.” 

he starts at your shoulders, down to your collarbones, working small circles into your skin. when he reaches the top of your chest, where the swell of your breasts begins, he hesitates again, lifting the loofah from your skin so his hand hovers between the two of you. you decide that now was a good a time as ever. 

“haechan…” you reach out and take his hand. and he looks so nervous, his breaths coming in quicker, his eyes darting between yours and your interlocked hands, that it makes you want to delay for just a little bit longer. 

“haechan, you do know that it feels good when you touch my chest, don’t you?” 

“what?” he stares at you. he seemed like he was hardly breathing. 

“i may have been awake a few of the nights in these past two weeks,” you say, slowly, before looking him in the face again. “you left me feeling really needy, you know that?” 

“sorry,” he apologises reflexively, before stopping as the words register in his head. “so, it��doesn’t make you…uncomfortable?” 

“no.” 

slowly, he nods, and then he adds, “you’re not weirded out?” 

“no,” you shake your head patiently. “it’s the opposite of all that. i love it when you touch me there.” 

“yeah?” he breathes, and you watch as his eyes darken just slightly, his chest falling and rising at a slightly quicker rate. and then he’s dropping the loofah, his hands going to your waist as he kisses you, hard. backing you up against the shower wall, he continues to kiss you feverishly as his hands go to the slope of your shoulders, trailing down your front until they cup your breasts, the movement so practiced and fluid that you don’t have the time to catch your breath. 

“always,” he gasps, “wanted to do this,” he moans into your mouth as he plays with your nipples, stroking them, his hands still slippery with soap. 

his movements jerky and disjointed, he turns the water back on so that it runs over the two of you, dousing your chest with warm water so that it’s slippery to touch, and if possible they feel even squishier and softer in his hold. groaning, he pushes his head into your neck as he squeezes them in his firm grip. 

“haechan,” you whine, his hands on you, and the desperation in his rough actions making you need him even more. 

he doesn’t bother to respond, shoving his knee between your legs to knock them apart and letting you grind on his thigh. its the way the movement is meant to placate you, as if he was too busy with your breasts to even pay attention to you, that makes it even more satisfying to grind down on him. 

“can i,” he gasps, breaking away from you. somehow already fucked out even though all he’s done is touch you, he pleads with you with his eyes. unable to catch his breath, he stutters out, “c-can i please, please, suck them?” 

you curse, but he seems to take it negatively. gulping, he begins to move away from you, his hands trembling, but your desperation overtakes you. 

grabbing his head by his hair, you pull his face towards your chest. and now it’s your turn to beg. 

“please,” you rasp, and that’s all you have to say because immediately his lips latch onto your right nipple, a whine sounding from him high and drawn out. swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, his other hand goes to your neglected breast, rolling the other nipple with his thumb and forefinger. all the while, his hips grind mindlessly, his hard cock rubbing against your upper thigh, spilling precum all over your skin that’s washed away just as quickly. 

haechan is in seventh heaven. he thinks he could spend forever like this, suckling on your tits, fucking into your thighs, listening to your pretty gasps and sighs. all the embarrassment from before has melted away, and all that’s left is his desire to touch and to taste, knowing that it brought you as much pleasure as it did for him. 

“eager baby,” you coo affectionately, trying to keep your voice level. with a feeling of elation, watching him grind against your skin and suckle at you as if he was a baby, you realise that you’ve done it: he’s lost all semblance of control. “do you think you could cum like this?” 

haechan moans, and the sound is beautifully crude as it echoes against the bathroom tiles. open-mouthed and panting, he whines again as he switches to another breast, both hands leaving your chest in favor of tugging at his neglected cock. 

and suddenly, you know just what he needs. 

“stop,” you tell him, but it’s not convincing enough — the sight of him, and stimulation from your chest, affecting you way too much. he ignores you, continuing to slobber over you, licking at the crevice between your boobs. 

“stop,” you insist, pushing him away this time. even as he breaks apart from you, his movements halting, his eyes are still trained on your breasts, watching the streams of water slide down them, dripping off of you, as if in a trance. 

reaching behind him to turn off the water, you open the shower door. haechan blinks a few times, the dissipating steam slowly clearing the air of the tension, and clearing the fog in his head too. 

“y/n,” he swallows. “i need you, please-” 

“you’ll have me,” you assure him, grabbing a towel as you lead him out of the en-suite bathroom, and over to your bed. “i just know you’ll really like this, so trust me, okay?” 

“okay,” he breathes, coming to stand between your legs as you sit on the edge of the bed. 

“and-” you point at him. “you need to calm down, okay?” 

looking wounded, haechan practically whimpers, reaching for your chest. 

“it’s not that i don’t like you eager,” you say, hurriedly. “i just want you to enjoy this for longer, okay?” 

he nods. 

a smile tugs at your lips. is this how he usually felt like? watching you dumb and desperate for him? 

“words,” you tease. 

“okay,” he says softly. “i’ll try.” 

“good job, baby,” you reach up to pat him on the cheek, before turning to grab a bottle of lotion that always stood on your bedside table. lying on your back, you motion for him to come over to you. he hovers obediently, sitting on his heels. 

uncapping the lotion, you take one of his hands and squeeze out a generous amount onto his palm. 

“spread it out over my chest,” you tell him, patiently. his lips part, and he’s about to surge towards you, so you place a hand on his arm. “slowly.” 

he swallows. he takes a breath. and then he’s spreading the lotion onto his palms, and as he promised, he slowly places them on your chest and begins to apply it onto your skin. his eyes glaze over as he swipes them under your boobs, rubbing into your cleavage, smearing it in circular motions closer to your nipples. even though you enjoy his touch, and you know he’s enjoying himself too, you motion for him to stop. 

slowly, carefully, you place both hands on the sides of your boobs. haechan’s eyes widen almost comically, and you look at him sternly, reminding him to keep it together. you squeeze them together, creating a tight passage between them where your cleavage is. 

“okay,” you breathe. “now fuck them.” 

haechan’s eyes, which have been fixating on your chest the whole time, flicker up to yours in confusion. 

“baby,” you try again, “here. in between my boobs.” 

haechan had never seemed to hear of the concept. finding the words, he splutters out, “what? how? do i really-” he stares at you, again, before the arousal seems to wind him over and he shuffles up to straddle your stomach. you see his thighs trembling as his large hands cover yours, squeezing your breasts together with more force. the blunt head of his cock makes contact your boobs, and he whimpers, before slotting it in the valley of your breasts, and thrusting forwards. 

you remove your hands, seeming to give him total control, when really he’s lost it all completely. 

his mouth hangs open as he lets out moan after moan, thrusting harder and harder into the tight passage. “fuck,” he gasps, going to stroke your nipples as he raises himself slightly, the need to fuck your tits harder and faster driving his hips forward and making him almost lose balance. strings of curses and nonsensical rambles fall from his puffy lips as he chases his high, wanting to enjoy it for longer but also wanting to cum. 

the sight of him, flushed and panting, holding onto your chest as if for dear life, is enough to satiate you for a little while, but soon the wetness between your thighs and throbbing of your clit feels too much to handle on your own.

“baby,” you breathe, “do you want to-” 

but at the petname, haechan lets out one high whine, and cums — all over your chest, up to your neck and chin and some even dribbling onto your face. all the while, he continues to fuck into your chest, until the stimulation is too much for him and he falls back on his heels, needing to get away. 

there’s a pause. 

his heaves and pants filling the room, he sits on the bed resting on his elbows. you’re a little winded too, but you don’t know what from. it takes him a while to calm down, even after you clean yourself up and pull him towards you to cuddle, him laying a hand on your boob the entire time. 

finally, his head seems to clear and he comes back to himself. looking at you carefully, he furrows his brow. 

“so that day with the turtleneck…” 

“yeah,” you say, feeling a little shy. you can’t believe he remembered something so far back. 

“and the photo of you in the bra…” 

“i thought you’d like it,” you offer, and he laughs at that. before he pauses, and really looks at you. 

“and you haven’t cum at all today, haven’t you sweetheart?” 

“not yet,” you breathe. 

happy fucking anniversary.

taglist: @matchahyuck , @kpopwh0r3 read part 2 here <3

[blueysobssesions]

FIRST KISS

Characters: Leon S. Kennedy, Chris Redfeild and Albert Wesker

A/n: THIS IS NOW A PURE RE FANFIC BLOG

Leon Kennedy

*Resident Evil 2 Remake*

His first kiss with you probably happened when Leon, you, Claire, and Sherry finally escaped together on a train from the laboratory. When he finally saw the sun, he turned to look at you, a smile playing on his lips. I can imagine how nervous he was. Hundreds of thoughts raced through his mind, like what if you would be disgusted by it? Or what if you didn’t feel the same way? But he didn’t want this opportunity to slip away! When Claire gave him a reassuring smile, he stopped in his tracks, confusing you. He took a deep breath and leaned in to kiss you. It was just a peck on the lips. “Ewww,” - Sherry You smiled, and this time you were the one who kissed his lips, making him all blushy and stuttering.

Chris Redfield

Resident Evil: Venedetta

You were the new BSAA recruit, and he was your mentor. He had been guiding you through your training, always pushing you to be better. He confessed his feelings for you after months and months of getting to know each other. Every training session with you was his favorite part of his day. Your first kiss happened before the mission where they needed to investigate and raid a mansion suspected of being used by Glenn Arias. Right when all of the crew was out of the helicopter, you both were the last ones to get off. Before Chris planted his foot on the ground, he grabbed your hand and planted a soft and lingering kiss on your lips.

Albert Wesker

Resident Evil 5

You and Wesker had been in a relationship for only a few months. During those months, you two never kissed, due to Wesker prioritizing other things. My guess is his first kiss with you happened while Estella tried seducing him, lmao. Before Albert came in, you were quiet, not listening to Estella's rants about Wesker. You didn’t care about it because it was clear Wesker didn’t have any interest in Estella, which made you laugh. Estella tried seducing Wesker while you were in the room. It only made you laugh more when he gripped her wrist with a vice-like hold. "Estella," he said coolly, his voice menacing and making you shiver. "I don't have time for distractions." He let go of her wrist, a faint red mark left behind. You stayed quiet, only waiting for Chris and his partner to appear. But then, in a move that surprised Estella, he turned and strode directly towards you. You knew he was behind you but kept your cool. You then felt one of his hands instantly on your jaw, gripping it firmly, and then turning your face to meet his. "And you…" he said, his eyes boring into yours. You kept quiet again, but then he placed his lips against yours. Estella dramatically scoffed and left the room. Chris and Sheva weren’t there yet, so you both had some free time all to yourselves. ;)

[stuffeddeer]

Hiiii I have literally read through your entire blog today after reading one of your latest fics and finding out your blog is entirely about Dazai so I figured I might as well request something, now that I have read everything (I need more).

So how about a Ada! Dazai and Pm! Dazai with a s/o that instead of just asking for a kiss they steal something from him right in front of his face and then just run away and ask for a kiss in exchange for the stolen item. I just thought about this and I figured it would be a pretty funny scenario :)

tysm anon! i hope you like this just as much!

PM!dazai

"I know you aren't gonna hurt me, Dazai," you grinned, watching as he stalked towards you after you stole his tie.

"Not if you give me what I want," he responds promptly. As much as he loves blowing off work, Mori might not be so forgiving if he's late to this particular meeting. "I'll go without my tie, if you'd prefer."

You let out a dramatic gasp, hand flying over your mouth. "And break uniform?! How unprofessional!"

"The Port Mafia doesn't have a uniform— "

"No, that simply won't do. You'll have to take this tie from me, yes yes," you nod at your own words, as though it was the logical conclusion.

A few steps brings Dazai closer to you, causing you to grin. You stand promptly in place, not letting him scare you back into a corner. "I know you won't hurt me."

"You already said that. What can I do to make my darling little partner give me back my tie?"

You pretend to ponder for a long moment, letting out a low hum and looking away with a hand on your chin. "What can you do, what can you do..." you click your tongue. "Gosh, I don't know!"

"Gosh?"

"Why, I suppose a kiss," you pause for emphasis, "might be adequate..."

Dazai stalks even closer, only a few inches away from you. Breath catching in your throat, you lose all playfulness, just staring into his big brown doe eyes like a lovesick puppy. You gulp before closing your own, slowly leaning in...

"Yoink! Gotcha!" Dazai pulls the tie from your loosened grip, taking a step back with a victorious grin.

"Did you just say yoink— "

"Never take your eyes off the enemy, darling! Surely you know that by now," he presses the tip of his pointer finger to your nose. "You're cute, but next time try a little harder." Slipping on his tie and barely tightening it around his neck, he sends you a blasé wave. "I'm headed to my meeting now. Maybe you can try again when I get back."

You stand still with a dumbfounded look on your face, watching as he leaves the room. An embarrassed blush decorates your cheeks; your boyfriend is such an asshole.

ADA!dazai

"You're taking your poor, innocent boyfriend's pen? How am I supposed to fill out my reports now?"

You only giggle mischievously in response, holding his pen behind your back. "Guess you'll want it back then?"

He hums for a moment before sighing. "Well, if my lovely partner wants it who am I to take it from them?" Dazai replies in adoration, elbows planted on his desk as he rests his head in his palms. "Besides, you're quite cute when you act all proud of yourself. What's on your mind, cutie?"

A pout takes the place of your grin. "Don't you want your pen back?.."

Even though he just said no, Dazai stands up and nods after a moment. Hands dangling at his sides impatiently, wanting nothing more than to hold you, he decides to play along. "My favorite pen," he pouts back. "Please can I have it back? What do you want in return?" Of course he knew this wasn't for no reason. You wanted him to want the pen, so you could wager it for something else.

You decide not to comment on how he was being so obvious about only playing along for your sake — either way, you'll get your desired outcome. "Maybe... a kiss?"

Dazai grins. "Why didn't you say so!" he replies with excitement, practically jumping onto you to press his lips to yours and slide his hands into your sweatshirt's pockets. 

You drop the pen accidentally, caught off guard by his sudden action. Quickly, you place your arms on his shoulders and kiss back.

Pulling back, he grabs your hand and starts for the Agency's door. "Mm, my partner is so warm and cozy. Let's go home early and kiss there instead!"

"What about the pen..?"

ADA!dazai again but he's a big arrogant meanie tbh!!

"Why don't you just tell me what you want, pretty," Dazai's thumb traces your bottom lip, hand cupping your jaw. "No need to play these games, hm?"

"I told you, I didn't take your report," you roll your eyes, arms crossed.

A condescending cooing escapes Dazai's lips that makes your eye twitch. "Babe, I know you just want a kiss from me. I'll give it to you if you give me my report back... In fact, maybe I can give you more,~" he purrs into your ear.

You brush off his touches, clearly unamused. "I didn't. Take. Your report."

"Playing hard to get won't get you want you want. C'mon... it's the only report I've finished," he moves on to pouting, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. "Kunikida said he'd make me a coffee if I got it done on time."

"You're 22, why do you need incentives to do your job anyway?" You roll your eyes.

"Baby, we both know I want a kiss as well. Just hand me the report and my lips are all yours. Or else, I'll have to spend time working on redoing it instead of next to you," he tries once again.

And once again, your eye twitches, fed up with his accusations. "I told you— "

"Uh, Dazai..?" Atsushi timidly speaks up. "Is this the report you're talking about?" He holds up a piece of paper, barely legible chicken scratch covering the blank spaces.

"Ah, Atsushi! You're such a kind soul! I must've accidentally slipped it in with your pile when pushing the rest of my reports onto— eh, never mind. You're a life saver!" Dazai jumps onto Atsushi with a hug before snatching the report to show you. "Look, love! Atsushi found it!"

Tapping your foot in annoyance, you stare down at Dazai, which he didn't think was possible given his large stature. "I'm sleeping alone tonight, aren't I."

"I'll make sure to leave blankets on the couch for you."

[elenthyaolyenths]

Full-Colour Practice & Discord Announcement

🐍🪽To my lovely followers on the Good OmensFandom!!!!🐍🪽

and here, a little test-colour pratice I did for my wrist physiotherapy. Whadda you think? (made with one of my old Red Art below the cut)

Thank you all for supporting me! We slowly approach the anniversary of my first GO publication. There is so many things I would like to do for the occasion... Will I manage everything? Wait & see!

But for now, let me introduce you to our new Discord 🐍🪽The Nice and Accurate Network🐍🪽

We are a small and friendly community, and we love and share everything about GO: fanfictions, Art, general talks, theories about season 3... We even have our own South Downs Cottage for sharing our irl hobbies or having writing/arting sprints and fun!

Come and join us! There is a few "sharing-WIPs" categories where I already feel like home, and I will probably post exclusive WIPs only there!

Bonus! my first Red Art Daily Challenge (Time completion 2 hours) from last January, versus the coloured version! I like them both, it's just a matter of taste and mood I guess. What do you think my dears?

♥Links & Tag-List below (tell me if you want to be in or out)♥

@goodomensafterdark ;

@floscrap-blog ; @demonsandpieohmy ; @amagnificentobsession ; @captainblou

@ineffable-hyperfixation ; @itsscottiesstark

@fearandhatred ; @eybefioro ; @crowleys-bentley-and-plants ; @ashfae ; @crowleys-hips;

@paperclipninja ; @silverdphantom ; @neverlet

@mad-aims ; @daisydimple20092 ; @seraphhiim ; @rebeccakatmauri

[silenzahra]

🫧 Bubbles of love 🫧

Exactly one year ago, a very special game was released for the Nintendo Switch:

🫧 Super Mario Bros Wonder 🫧

And it's a game that I loved and enjoyed so much, that I decided to write a little something to celebrate it! 🎂

As I mentioned here, I came up with this idea when I was trying to fall asleep a few nights ago and wrote it in one go the following evening. Don't even ask me how, because I always take FOREVER to write a story, but in this case, and as shocking as it sounds, this story is short.

Yes. You read it right: short. Again, I don't know how, but without setting a precedent, I was able, for once, to write a story that is actually short 😂

Anyways, thank you so much to those of you who reacted to the aforementioned post to try and guess what this story might be about! You're about to find out... and I'll just say a few of you got it right 🤭 (And those who didn't, you gave me amazing ideas... I may or may not be taking notes for the future 🤭📝)

I hope it's okay that I tag those of you who showed interest, as well as some folks who I believe might enjoy this 🥰 Of course, if I'm wrong, you're more than free to ignore this post, and please forgive me for bothering you 😅

@megamagimugi @kelbreyworshipper @pepperycar @peaches2217 @bberetd

@itsavee4117 @coffeecat1983 @keakruiser @doodleydoo101 @stripetkattelalala54-gf (no rush at all of course! Take your time 🥰)

@smokszyvverstar @eleventhhourfactor @marioandluigi1983 @c-lavanda @zocchini37

@teegeeteegee @akiiame-blog @dragon-fly34 @wahooitsamee @supergay-64

My beloved big sis @vulpixfairy1985 deserves a special mention, as you'll find a part in this story that might remind you of her beautiful story A moment together 🤭🎈 Thank you so much for giving me permission to do so, dear sister! 💖

Without further ado: enjoy! 😄🫧💖

As always, you can continue reading under the cut! Likes, comments, kudos, reblogs and any kind of feedback is always more than welcome! 🥰💖

🫧 Bubbles of love 🫧

Mario can't stop looking at Peach.

He’s been staring at her in rapt attention for a while now. Specifically, since he’s seen her touch the Bubble Flower that has caused her familiar pink dress, which suits her so well and which Mario adores dearly, to turn a shade of purple, though not a very dark one. Peach has immediately begun to throw bubbles to catch the enemies that were stalking them, facing them without hesitation, bravely and keeping every bit of her characteristic elegance untouched.

And Mario has confirmed, once again, that he’s absolutely and irremediably in love with her.

Now, fortunately, the road they’re following is completely clear. They’ve all stopped to rest together in a clearing in Pipe-Rock Plateau, and Peach, her power-up still on, is sitting on a rock and chats absentmindedly with Toadette. Mario is not even aware that he’s smiling wider than ever as he watches her; he’s just reveling in her infinite beauty, her long golden hair and deep blue eyes that resemble two sapphires, and her gestures and expressions, never lacking in sweetness and demureness.

Mario suddenly finds himself lost in thought, his mind filling with the moments they shared together on their first visit to the Flower Kingdom a year ago. How much Peach was surprised when the Piranha Plants started singing, just before she started smiling and clapping as she let herself be carried away by the music, being the first of the whole group to do so. The various races with their friend Wiggler, with whom they had such a great time, despite the dangerousness of some of the places they ran. The unexpected Halloween-themed party they stumbled upon when they arrived at Fungi Mines. How Peach liked to chase him as they dived into Petal Isles, making reaching the finish in the watery areas a fun and always healthy competition. The catchy and lively music with which the Ninjis greeted the whole group when they arrived at their hidden disco in Sunbaked Desert and how Peach enjoyed jumping to the rhythm of their melody.

The wonderful feeling of flying away clutching his cap while Peach did the same at his side, which gave them the opportunity to share a brief moment of complicity and fun that belonged only to them.

A sigh escapes Mario's lips. What he’d give to relive all those moments with his beloved princess just one more time.

What he’d give to muster the courage to go one step further and declare his love to her at last.

A loud laugh startles him and brings him back to reality. Puzzled, he turns his head in search of the source of the laughter. He smiles immediately when he notices Daisy, who, not much farther away, pulls Luigi's hand, who is also laughing, although a little more shyly and nervously. Mario notices that both of them are also using a Bubble Flower, as evidenced by Luigi's pink shirt and hat and his green overalls and Daisy's purple dress. A sudden memory assaults Mario's mind: his little brother, completely blushing, confessing to him, without looking him in the eye, that he loves how well Daisy looks in purple, as according to him, it matches perfectly with the yellow of the edges of her skirt and with her auburn hair. And, besides, it's her favorite color.

Mario's smile is full of tenderness as he watches his beloved little brother being carried away by his fearless princess. Daisy is creating bubbles incessantly and, without letting go of Luigi's hand, she starts bouncing on them, dragging the younger plumber along with her. Mario watches them while he remembers another special occasion: that time when, after taking Luigi to Sarasaland in his Odyssey ship, he began to create bubbles near the princess' balcony to invite her and Luigi to share a moment together. Mario recalls how much fun they both had, holding hands as they danced on the bubbles, the purest and most primal happiness radiating from their every gesture and face.

Mario couldn’t be happier that they’ve decided to recreate the scene they shared back then, this time being in charge of creating the bubbles themselves. Tenderness dances in his chest as he witnesses how his twin, despite his initial insecurity and reticence, gradually gains more confidence, no doubt infected by Daisy's boldness and the self-assuredness she gives him. Mario’s heart fills with joy when a laugh finally bursts from Luigi's lips, showing that all traces of fear have been buried under layers and layers of fun and bliss.

With dreamy eyes, Mario watches as, in a matter of seconds, Luigi and Daisy are dancing in the air, holding hands and surrounded by bubbles that seem to be in tune with their movements. A giggle escapes Mario as Luigi spins Daisy around and then holds her around the waist, Daisy's arms around his neck. His little brother is quite a ladies’ man.

A soft giggle then reaches his ears. Mario's attention is immediately diverted to Peach, who, like him, looks at the couple and seems touched by the happiness they radiate. It is at that moment, watching the princess cover her mouth with her hand, always so restrained, with her golden hair falling in waves down her back and her distinctive heart-shaped bangs crowning her forehead, that Mario gets the idea.

He doesn’t miss a beat and starts turning everywhere. Fortunately, his search soon pays off: not far away, at the other end of the clearing, he spots a block that, he hopes, hides a Bubble Flower. He rushes to it without a second thought, but on the way, he’s assailed by the possibility that it’s an Elephant Fruit or a Drill Mushroom. What will he do then? His plan will only work with a Bubble Flower... Although there might be something he can do for Peach if he finds himself transformed into an elephant. After all, he's pretty good at improvising.

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he reaches the block and looks at it while giving himself a few seconds to catch his breath. His fate is locked inside that bright yellow box with a white question mark inscribed on it. His mind tries to come up with ideas, options that he could carry out in case he doesn't receive the desired power-up, but Mario has never dealt well with uncertainty.

So, without further thought, he jumps up with his fist in the air.

A beautiful flower with a pink center in which two black eyes gleam, surrounded by purple petals which, in turn, are encircled by other petals, these of a snowy white, welcomes him.

Mario laughs and lets out a shout of victory before jumping back up, hand outstretched to touch the flower at its very center. As soon as he does, he notices how his body absorbs the power-up and performs a small spin in the air as his clothes change color, his blue overalls turning red and his shirt and cap turning pink. Before he hits the ground again, he’s already created his first bubble.

Satisfied, he quickly turns around and makes sure that Peach hasn't noticed anything, as she has resumed her conversation with Toadette. A little further on, Mario is surprised to see that, among the bubbles, Luigi and Daisy are now dancing closer than ever, their mouths very close to touching. He looks away immediately; even though they’re in a clearing with their other companions, he understands that this is a very intimate moment for his brother and the princess of Sarasaland. He tells himself that he has to remember to congratulate Luigi later, but not before teasing him a little as any good big brother would do.

Determined, Mario stands with his back to everyone and begins to carry out his plan. First he creates a huge bubble to serve as a base, and on both sides of it he places two others, also very large. He has to stifle a giggle as he realizes that he’s inadvertently formed a head that reminds him of a certain very famous mouse whose tone of voice is quite similar to his, or so he has always been told. He doesn't think there are that many similarities, but he's gotten used to the jokes.

He shrugs and continues with his task. He continues to blow and originate large bubbles that he places in the appropriate positions and climbs through them as his creation takes shape. He has no idea how long it takes him, but during that time, short or long, only he and his plan exist. He completely forgets where he is and who is around him. He can only recreate in his mind Peach's beautiful face, the living image of grace and pureness, as he works tirelessly. How will she react when she sees what he’s done? Will she be very surprised? Will she be happy?

Will she be... horrified?

Suddenly it occurs to Mario that, perhaps, what he’s doing is too bold, too obvious. He may indeed be taking a big risk. With his hand outstretched and about to blow yet another bubble, Mario thinks for a few seconds. Should he stop? Should he go on? What if it's too much?

However, he immediately shakes his head. He knows he wants to do it, no matter what, and that nothing could stop him. Not when resolve courses through his veins like a fast-flowing river and floods every corner of his body.

Besides, he loves the power of creating bubbles, bouncing on them and feeling himself fly higher and higher, and what better way to finally take the step of expressing his feelings for the princess of the Mushroom Kingdom than to use them?

Mario forces the torrent of tremendous thoughts that appear in his mind to stop and ignores the rapid beating of his heart. Firmly, he finally blows and creates a new bubble with which to perform his plan, and skillfully directs it to the point where he wants to place it.

Whatever happens next, Mario is willing to take the risk.

When, at last, he blows the last big bubble that puts the finishing touch to his work, Mario sits on it with a soft snort, eyes closed, and runs his sleeve across his forehead. He smiles absently and gives himself a few seconds to enjoy the sensation of being high up. There’s not much distance between the ground and where he stands, but it’s enough for him.

When he opens his eyes, however, his serene smile is replaced by an expression full of the most infinite surprise.

At his feet, a large part of his group of friends has gathered. The two Toads and the four Yoshis gaze at his creation with amazement gleaming on their faces. Nabbit is there too, his head tilted back so as not to miss a detail, but the scarf covering half of his face prevents Mario from reading his expression clearly. Even Luigi and Daisy have abandoned their close dance to come closer to watch, and they’re both beaming with smiles full of admiration and eyes shining with enthusiasm. When his glance meets his brother's, Mario smiles sheepishly as Luigi gives him an energetic thumbs-up while winking approvingly.

Next to his twin, Mario spots Toadette, who is clapping enthusiastically, and he waves at her quickly as his brain starts to process that, if she's there, that means...

Indeed, standing by her side is Peach herself, causing Mario's throat to suddenly go dry as his heart skips a beat.

His beloved Peach, for whom he has just built a huge heart made of bubbles.

His beloved Peach, who gazes at the result of his efforts with wide eyes as she covers her mouth with both hands.

His beloved Peach, whose sparkling sapphire eyes meet his own.

Mario is speechless. Are those... tears? He can't tell for sure, as he stands at a certain height, but he could swear he’s seen something glistening in the evening sun on the sides of his princess's beautiful eyes.

To say that his heart is bouncing in his chest would be an understatement.

Embarrassment invades Mario in a sudden surge that sweeps everything in its path. He hadn't counted on having such an audience. He had hoped it could be something private, something to share only with Peach. Of course, considering that the whole group is gathered in the middle of a clearing, he supposes it was too much to ask.

Still, the plumber puts his hand to his mouth and blows again. He sends the new bubble floating gently to Peach's very feet, and she lowers her head for a moment before raising it again, questioning him with her gaze. Despite the insecurity that always floods him when it comes to her, Mario nods, his lips drawing a nervous and somewhat crooked smile, and hurries to blow a second bubble that he also sends down, though at a slightly higher distance than the first one.

And Peach, without taking her eyes off Mario, lowers her hands to grab her purple skirts and begin the ascent.

Mario's heart swells and sings as he notices the wide, radiant smile adorning the pink lips of his beloved princess.

He forces himself to hold back a giggle of joy and keep blowing. His eyes never leave Peach's, who, in turn, can't take her eyes off him. Mario watches as his princess climbs towards him, those deep eyes getting closer and closer, her approaching him as if in slow motion. His rapid heartbeat thunders in his ears, but he’d love to continue living this moment forever, to extend it in time, to never end the sweet anticipation of knowing that, soon, his princess will be with him.

He never wants to stop looking at those eyes, which, as he very well knows, can never, ever have an owner, because of the simple fact that they’re not of this world.

However, sooner than he expected, Mario finds himself having to look up slightly, as Peach has finally reached him. They both gasp slightly, but the princess’ smile is so wide and shiny, brighter than the sun itself, that Mario doubts there can be anything in the world that would be able to erase it. He was about to create a new bubble, his hand outstretched, so instead, he extends his arm a little and offers it to Peach. She lets go of her skirts without a second thought and accepts his hand, her slender, delicate fingers resting gently on his rough, calloused palm.

Mario can hardly believe his luck.

Quickly, he leans to one side and invites Peach to sit next to him in the bubble that closes the heart, which she does with diligence and gracefulness, their hands still clasped together. The instant Mario’s brain registers that his beloved princess has just taken a seat next to him and that their fingers, despite the gloves, remain touching, he feels like he might faint. The outside world disappears completely for him, as does the entire group that continues looking at them on the ground. He barely hears, as if in the background, the voices of Luigi and Daisy as they urge the others to disperse to give the couple some privacy.

At this very moment, only he and Peach exist.

When they look at each other, she seems to want to tell him so many things. Why he has just created an entire heart made of bubbles, perhaps. Why he's invited her up, only her. “You're crazy,” even.

Peach doesn't utter a word, however. She doesn't need to, for her bright, expressive eyes speak for her. Mario senses that they’re communicating, that they’re speaking despite the absence of words, that they’re having a conversation that only they understand, a conversation that springs directly from her heart and reaches into his own.

And yet, despite this, he could never have foreseen what Peach does next.

She raises her hand, causing the touch between them to break. For Mario, it's like having a little piece of his heart ripped out, like his lungs shrinking in size. He will recover, however; for a few precious seconds he’s held his princess's hand between his fingers, and nothing can take away the joy that this brief but intense contact has caused him.

Even so, before he has time to understand what’s happening, Peach's palms rest on his cheeks, so that she’s cupping his face with infinite tenderness. Mario has just short-circuited again, so he’s unable to react. Unless melting inside and feeling his face burning like the fiercest fire counts as a reaction.

And suddenly, with the swiftness of the blink of an eye, Peach's lips land on his.

Mario's heart stops suddenly.

Suddenly he’s no longer there. Suddenly, he’s gone up to heaven and he’s not even aware that he’s done so. Suddenly, his eyes can do nothing but close, his ears cut off from the outside world, his hands rise to rest on Peach's hips with a certain possessiveness that he doesn't know where it comes from, but that he’s unable to contain.

Suddenly, Mario is in heaven and does not intend to come back down.

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Can you do rivals to lovers. Idol!wonwoo x idol!y/n (she's a leader) both are dom and rivals from trainee period in same company... Sounds so kinky amd steamy to me👀btw love your blog ❤️ - xoxo

tw: idol!wonwoo, idol!reader (fem), rivals to lovers!au, sexual tension, implied kissing, reader is implied to be shorter than wonwoo, cursing, wonwoo is being a little shit tbh - minors dni.

"Good work today, everyone! Let's rest well for the next performance, okay?"

"Okay!" You hear an enthusiastic reply from your fellow members, beaming with excitement for the upcoming group activities.

You're still buzzing with adrenaline from the comeback stage, a bit worried about whether you'll be able to sleep properly, but it's not enough to stop you from smiling.

You walk in the corridors of the building, gently greeting any passerby staff or idol, be it senior or junior to you. As soon as you turn around the corner to search for the restrooms, you bump into a taller and quite muscular figure.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-" You bow profusely, feeling embarrased for not looking.

"Aw, what a great junior, aren't you? Behaving so well towards your senior."

The familiar deep timbre has you on high alert and you instantly straighten your back, your earlier smile completely wiped off your face.

"You."

"Yeah, it's me. Long time no see, huh, Y/N?"

"Why are you here?" You cross your arms defensively.

"Haven't you heard? We just had a comeback and it's already a hit." The man boasts with a smug smirk.

"Sorry, I was busy preparing for my group's comeback. I don't exactly have time to pay attention to other groups."

"That's a shame. You'd love Maestro - I dare say my MV shots would be to your liking."

"What do you want, Wonwoo?" You sigh.

"Hmm, I think that's not how you should address me." Wonwoo places his hand under his chin, pretending to be thinking.

"Cut the crap, we're the same age."

"Ever the clawy one. But it was always part of your charm." He leans closer to you, but you don't waver.

"Nice, you actually have a good memory. Now step aside, I wanna go to the restrooms." You try to push him aside, but he catches you by your wrist.

"But we're having such a nice conversation, don't you think?" He grins.

"No, I actually don't." You spit back.

"Oh, but what have I ever done to you, Y/N? Is it because I got to debut before you?"

"Just because I appreciate your group for the standards you've created doesn't mean I have to appreciate you specifically." You pull your hand back.

"Maybe if you let me kiss you, you'd appreciate me a bit more." Wonwoo chuckles, "Because I'd love to kiss your pretty damn face right now - just to shut you up, though."

"In your goddamn dreams, Jeon."

He leans closer and gently cages you between the wall and his body.

"What a great dream would that be, right?"

"Back off, someone will see us any moment now!" You plant your palms on his chest, using your full strength to push him away. But he doesn't budge an inch.

"No need to be so damn scared, Y/N." He pulls away immediately, "Besides, I'd never want to get caught up in dating rumors with you."

"So much for wanting to kiss me, I guess." You scoff, "Still the same loser when you were a kid."

You walk away from Wonwoo with quick steps, trying your best to calm yourself down.

You can't help but think how infuriatingly handsome and talented he has grown over the years - but also annoying as fuck. Towards you, at least.

Little did you know, the exact same thoughts run laps inside Wonwoo's head as he watches you walk down the corridor.

Kissing you won't be the only thing he'll dream of tonight.

[james-is-here]

heheh Part two to my Jisung fic. OOH! I can also make fics of how Mn got into sleeping with the others if that interests you along with fics about...things that are hinted at in this fic.

Blog Tags: @binnies-binna <3 :) @heartbinn

Masterlist | Series Tag is "Sleeping Around by James"

Tags: No power specified but sub!chan/Dom!reader if you squint towards the end. Reader calls Chan Hyung/Hyungie/slut/cunt 🫢 cum swap, choking, blowjob/handjob(Mn receives), I seriously went on a tangent at the end so Chan is a bit 🤔 innocently provocative i guess idk, unprotected, fingering(Chan receives)

Still wearing a small grin while shaking your head, you look over to Jisung who was completely passed out. You sigh and walk back to the bed, picking up his boxers on your way, before throwing the sheet off him, dressing him then picking him up to lay him on the floor with a pillow temporarily while you rush to strip the bed and put fresh sheets on before picking the boy back up and putting him back on the bed.

You dress him in your hoodie from the floor after removing the flannel and tuck him under his blankets. With a kiss on his forehead, smiling when you hear him hum in his sleep with a smile before walking out, in just your underwear mind you, before walking down two doors. You didn't know if the other was still awake but you faked a cough in front of his door before going to your room to get a pair of sweats. You had a suspicion that they wouldn't last long on your body but you were cold and back in Jisung's room you didn't want to put jeans back on.

After getting the article of clothing, you walk back to Chan's door. You can barely see the purple lights under the door but no noise. Reaching for the knob, you turn it as smoothly and quietly as you could before being able to push it open to step inside. After closing it, you look at his desk, computer still open but asleep with a black screen, then you look to his bed. He's laying on his stomach, cuddling his pillow and his blanket was askew like he was covered laying on his back before rolling onto his front. You almost didn't want to disturb him, knowing how much all of you try to get Chan to sleep more, but the picture he sent lingered in your mind. It was so lewd and brave of Chan to send it to you, you didn't think he could do something like sending a post-nut picture to a friend.

On second thought...friend? I mean, y'all are friends but all of you know that you guys are sleeping with, at least, one other member. You and Jisung, Felix and Hyunjin, you almost coughed up a lung the day you found out about Minho and Seungmin that one day after practice. Though, you didn't blame Minho, Seungmin's sass that day almost had you wanting to fuck the brat out of him.

You were so zoned out you didn't even notice that Chan was now awake. In fact he now stood in front of you. When did he get out of bed?

"Mn?" His quiet voice brings you back to reality and your eyes meet his. "Hi, sorry." "Did you come in here for a reason or just to watch me sleep?" He smiled sleepily, his messy hair and droopy eyes just made you want to hold him close and cradle him. He looks so exhausted. "I had a reason but you look so sleepy." "I'm fine, what did you need?" He yawned into the back of his hand before he closed his eyes for a moment then leaned onto your shoulder. "Are you fine, Chan?" "Mmm, stay thinks so." "That's not what I meant and you know that." "Just tired is all." "Then I can come back another night." "Another night?"

He pulled his head off your shoulder to look up at you. You managed to beat Hyunjin's height, making you the tallest in the group by a couple inches and it makes you laugh when they all have to look up at you by just the smallest amount. "What was your reason?" He asks skeptically. "Well, in your photo, it seemed as though you still had a problem so I wanted to help." Your hands plant themselves on his waist gently as you rub your thumb along the soft material of his hoodie.

"Okay." "Okay?" "Yeah...but I don't want to do anything." "Tired?" He nods his head, your hands hold his waist tighter and its like that touch had him weak as he practically went limp in your hold. His arms move to wrap around your neck as yours wrap around his middle, raising his hoodie in the process to slip your hands underneath.

You were going to go further but the way he tightened his hold and buried his face in your neck, the furthest you went in the moment was wrapping your arms around him completely and squeezing, burying your face in his neck in return. After a couple seconds, you lift your head to rest your chin on his shoulder. "You sure you're up for it? Looks like you would rather cuddle." A whine is muffled into your neck but you hear a faint giggle as well. With a playful huff, you remove your arms from around him, bend your knees slightly, then grip his thighs to lift him up effortlessly causing him to gasp at the sudden action as you move to sit on his bed.

When settled, he shifted in your lap before pulling away from your neck, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he looks down. "You're hard?" "Um, yeah, we don't have to do anything though. We can just cuddle, it'll go away." He shook his head as if he couldn't let that happen, pulling away from you to move off your lap. "Hyung, you don't have to. Aren't you tired?" "I am but doesn't a lazy blow job sound good? You wanted to help take care of your Hyung but now let your Hyung take care of you." A pathetic whine rests at the back of your throat that you couldn't stop in time. He looked so soft and cozy while speaking such filth and your brain couldn't catch up as you instinctively scoot down the bed a little bit when Chan pulled your sweats down just enough.

He felt flushed suddenly as he sat back up and pressed his lips to yours, you gasped into the kiss as he wrapped his hand around you at the same time. You tilt your head with his as he climbs back onto your lap and slowly jerked you off. You hum against his lips before opening your own when he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip. You couldn't help yourself when you giggled and pulled back. "Thought you were giving me a blow job? Got shy?" "Shut up." You laugh again at his shy smile and kiss him again.

He picks up the speed of his hand, he wants to pull away and watch his handy work but kissing you was addicting and he didn't even want to pull back when his lungs burned but he did, moving to kiss along your neck.

To be honest, he knew the others starting messing around and he's kinda glad he sent you that photo.

You're also a lucky S.O.B as your the first member Chan sleeps with.

He kissed all over your neck and left marks, you were so lost in your hyung's soft lips and touch that you didn't think about it, didn't think about the fact that you guys have a fan meet the next day.

Suddenly he stops and you can't stop the whine that escapes. "Hyung, come on." You watch as he stands up and removes his sweats and your disappointment disappears. "Oh." "Don't miss the blow job now, do ya?" "U-Um, I- No, Not at all."

Chan went to sit on your lap but stopped. "I don't..." He hesitated, straddling your thighs as he glanced between his hands and your eyes. "It's okay. We don't have to go full out." "No, that's not the problem. I just...don't have lube...or anything." "Oh." "I think I'll be fine." "No, hold on, it's your first time." "Mn-" "Hyung, it'll hurt. Trust me, I was stupid and didn't use anything my first time and it hurt. Let me go get something." "Okay."

He got off you and you stood up, pulling your pants up before walking out of his room, quickly dashing to Jisung's room to grab the bottle only to remember that you finished that with him so you leave the room and make your way to Hyunjin's room, amused to see Felix in his bed before you went to the bedside table only to see the bottle on top of it. "You fucking kidding me?" You mutter exhaustedly to yourself when you see the empty bottle laying on its side before leaving and trying Minho. How the fuck can you not find any lube?

You almost bump into Minho somehow and he stumbles back. "What are you in a rush for? Shouldn't you be sleeping for tomorrow?" "I'm trying to do something with Chan. Do you have lube?" Minho's eyes widen before sighing. "Bottom drawer." He said as he pointed to his nightstand and left to go to the bathroom. "Thank you Min." You whispered gratefully but before you went in and he walked away completely, he pulled you back by your arm and reached up to kiss you. "You empty it, you owe me." "Was gonna by more anyway since Hyun and Ji are out." "That's not the only thing you owe." "You can ask for that anytime." You kiss him again, biting his bottom lip before pulling back and walk into his room.

Finally you walk back to Chan's room and surprisingly find him lying in his bed politely, his knees are pulled up and his hoodie pulled down as he fidgets with the strings of his hoodie. "Have I ever said that you're adorable, Hyung?" Your voice makes him jump as he watches you walk back to the bed, discard your sweats, and sit in front of him, hands rested on his knees. "Um, not that I can recall." "Well you are."

With a gentle movement, your thumb moves back and forth on his knee. "Had to get this from Minho and he has a point. You sure you want to do this? We have that thing tomorrow." "I'm sure." With a gentle smile, you carefully push his knees apart and lean forward to kiss him.

Chan's hands cradle your face, his sweater paws making him impossibly cuter. His hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as you tilt your head and slip your tongue between his lips. You try to pull back when your lungs burn but he pulls you right back. You pull back again but quickly move to his neck to stop him, your voice right next to his ear as a lighthearted giggle leaves you and you kiss behind his ear. "Mn..." He whines, laugh coming out of you this time. "I'm just trying to tell you that I'm gonna stretch you now. Thought you'd like a warning." "Oh."

You kiss all over his neck, you go to bite his neck under his ear, the same tactic you used on Jisung to distract him but he stopped you when your teeth grazed his skin. You groan, nipping at the place you were gonna bite before moving further down, pulling the collar of his hoodie down with your chin to bite the top of his pec as you finally slide a finger in.

Eventually you get two, then three fingers in him. He's whining, softly moaning against your shoulder as he holds onto you tightly. You adore that he's clingy, it is really adorable. "Mn..." "Yeah?" "C-Can you..." he trails off with a whine and you smile. "Can I what?" You push yourself up to look at his face, flushed red with plush, bitten lips and his eyes glassy. "...put it in...please?" How could you deny your precious hyung when he asks so nicely.

You remove your fingers, placing your hands on his thighs and guiding them to go around your waist before you brace yourself on your left hand. "Relax, Hyung, okay?" He nods, reaching up to cradle your face again to gently pull your gaze back to his when you looked down to watch what you were doing. "Hyung, hey, it's okay. What's wrong?" He started panicking slightly when you saw him crying, your free hand reaching up to cup the side of his face and graze your thumb over his cheek. He leans up, pressing his lips to yours suddenly and it wasn't messy as before, it was gentle yet firm, it almost made you dizzy with the amount of passion that was also given.

Chan pulled back, his eyes moving rapidly, almost gauging your reaction. "How..." He started before shaking his head. "Nevermind." "No, it's okay." Despite the soft moment, Chan still tried to go on. "It's nothing. Can you..." "Will you tell me if I put it in?" He thinks before hesitantly nodding his head. "Will you?" "Yes."

Giving him a quick kiss, you look back down, lining yourself up before pushing in. Once in place, you look back up, kissing along his neck and distracting him as you slowly push all the way in. Chan's left hand went from your neck to cover his mouth with the back of his hand, covering it but also letting some noises out. His moans and whimpers were noises you thought you'd never hear from him. "You sound so good, Hyung. So many others would love your noises too." You chuckled next to his ear. "Now, I won't move until you tell me what you were gonna say."

He hesitated, eyes closed adjusting to your size and the new feeling before opening his eyes again. "How..." "You can do it, come on." You kiss the corner of his mouth. "It's okay, Hyung. Whatever you say I won't judge, you know that." You mutter as you kiss along his jaw. "Who were the firsts?" You pull back, looking at Chan. "Me and Hyunjin." "After that, wh-when more of you started..." You smile gently. "Fucking?" "Uh, yeah...How did none of you not...catch feelings?" You smile fully, planting a big kiss on his lips as you reward him for asking his questions by pulling back and thrusting back in, drawing a moan out of him. "Who said we didn't?" You smirked in return as you slowly picked up speed.

Your thrusts got harder overtime and Chan's noises eventually got muffled by your lips, your tongue claiming his mouth as you swallow his noises. You're both lost in the pleasure --with you hitting that one good spot in Chan repeatedly and Chan's tightness surrounding you-- that neither of you truly process the fact that you started leaving marks along his neck. He thinks that you licking and sucking his neck is the best feeling, he also realizes how sensitive he is.

Since starting, you finally moved his hoodie, sliding your hand underneath. Chan's breath hitched, you've touched his abs before but not in this setting, your nails gently dragged over the skin, over the toned muscles of his body before your hand moves to his hip and squeezed then moved to squeeze his thigh. Your touch was gentle and it made him dizzy at the same time. "M-Maybe I should've- Oh shit~" He moans and arches up into you when your nails grazed his pelvic area, super sensitive and has him trying to move back into you.

He whines when you pull out before letting out a gasp of surprise when you got off him then pulled him onto your lap with ease. "I-I guess being Changbin's gym twin is true." That gets a laugh out of you as you grip his thighs, pulling him further up before moving your hand to his hip and one guiding yourself back into his tight hole then pulling him down to sit on your lap completely, fucking into him deeply with one thrust, hitting his prostate dead on. "Shit~" He moans, weakly draping his arms over your shoulders and leaning onto your shoulder. "So tight, Hyungie. You feel so fucking good." Whining, he begins moving on your lap, rocking his hips back and forth, getting use to the new position before he readjusts his legs straddling you to start gently riding you.

The new position seemed to have you reach deeper inside him, still hitting all the right spots and with how close he's sitting to you, his leaking tip making a mess of your toned stomach but the feeling of your bare skin on his dick felt good. Your hands move to his ass, squeezing before moving to his waist above his hips, an almost bruising grip on his sides has he helps him bounce.

One of your hands move to wrap around Chan, pumping him quickly then switching to slow strokes, rubbing your thumb over his tip then stroking him once with a tight fist before letting go when you reach the tip. "Fuck~ Y-You are- Shit, ah~" He couldn't even get a full sentence out. "So good~" He settles with and you chuckle. "Have I really fucked you dumb? I've barely done anything." You stop his bouncing, wrapping your arms around him as you sit up from leaning on his headboard before thrusting into him again, thrusting up into him at a fast pace. The moan he lets out is the first one he's let out freely, "Fuck~ G-Gonna- ah~" You thrusted deeper and faster, abusing the sensitive spot inside of him repeatedly and his dick rubbing on your abs, his pre-cum making the contact sticky and slick and with a particularly hard thrust and you sucking a mark under his ear, his cum stains your stomach and chest.

He moans freely next to your ear, you pull him flush against your lap as his cum gets on his hoodie as well. He rocks his hips back and forth, riding through his high as he revels in the pleasure and marks up your neck like you did his. His lips were so plush and soft against your neck, hot with every press, bite, lick, and suck. He was addicted to marking you as you were to him, the consequences of doing such is a problem for tomorrow.

He pants, his rocking slowing down as he moves to kiss you gently before pushing himself up and off your lap, a groan builds from your throat at the loss before Chan gently pulls you to the edge of the bed and gets on his knees. You see his intentions and lean back to get a pillow and put it in front of him. You'll have consequences for the hickeys, don't need any for Chan's knees being in pain and bruised.

When he got comfortable, he took your cock into his hand, it was oddly cold and it had you gasping out a curse as you spread your legs slightly to give him more room. He starts at a fast pace as he pushes himself up slightly. "Oh shit." You moan as you lean back onto your elbows as he cleans up his mess, licking all over your abs and licking up his own cum. When he got the majority of it, he sat back and showed you his spunk on his tongue. "Shit, you are so dirty, Hyung." Then you chuckle when you see a small flash in his eyes, taking him by surprise by grabbing his neck and squeezing slightly, eliciting a surprised gasp and small moan from him. Seeing your hyung like this, at your fingertips, drove you crazy. Yes, you had Minho in the same spot somehow but he was bratty while Chan obeyed you.

You lean down as Chan's strokes slow down to give him an open mouth kiss, tangling your tongue with his and mixing his cum with your spits, he moans at the whole action as you pull back, smirking when Chan keeps the mixture on his tongue. "Swallow, Channie-Hyung." He closes his mouth, swallowing all of it before opening his mouth again to show you. "You...are such a slut, Hyung, fuck." You grin as you kiss him again. "How would you feel about being called a good slut, huh? Cause you are." He moans as his hand almost subconsciously moves again to stroke you. "I wanna know what else that mouth does."

With that, you let go of his neck and lean back again as he moves forward and presses his lips to your tip. You thought his lips were soft on your neck but it's almost like they're softer as they trail down your shaft and back up to the tip before wrapping them around the tip. His tongue then swirls around the head, dipping into the slit, then taking you to the back of his throat. His reflex kicks in and that's when it hit you, how is he so fucking good for it being his first time?

Your dick was the first he's taken and his desire may have clouded reality but he still keeps going, focusing on the vein on his tongue as he tried to relax. You notice his attempt, combing your fingers through his fluffy hair in appreciation. You were about to tell him to breath through his nose if he wants to go further but he beat you to it, relaxing his throat and breathing through his nose before he went down on the rest of your length. "Shit~" Moaning, you grip his hair, drawing a moan from Chan who pulls back with a gasp. "Are- Shit, you sure I'm your first?" You ask, genuinely shocked that he could do that. "Yeah." He blushes, suddenly really shy when he realizes what he did. "Fuck, you're really good. So good." "I'm good?" He asks softly, contradicting his actions as he places your tip on his tongue, moving his hand away so its weight rests on it.

"You-" A laugh escapes as he smiles, mouth still open as he rests more of your length on his tongue. "You fucking cunt, you can't ask me that so innocently while you look like this." He chuckles before wrapping his lips around you again. "You're so good. Such a good cocksucker. Or do you want to be called a good boy? Is hyung a good boy?" He moans, looking up at you as he takes all of you down his throat again, hallowing his cheeks and swiping his tongue everywhere he could reach as he bobs his head. You were long enough that his throat constantly tightened around your tip whenever he swallowed the pooling amount of saliva, occasionally forgetting to cause the weight and feeling of your cock in his mouth was addicting which caused some spit to cover his chin and drip down your length.

"Fuck, Hyung, please don't stop. Gonna- Fuck, Gonna cum." He stops at your base, deep throating as he swallows around you. The feeling of his throat, his tongue, and just the main thought that your hyung is on his knees, swallowing your dick, had the coil inside you snapping quickly. He lifted his head, keeping the tip in his mouth as he took your load almost happily, moaning as it also shot to the back of his throat. "Oh, shit, hng~" You whine as you brush your hand through his hair, panting as you try to catch your breath.

Chan pulls off you, showing you your cum on his tongue. "Swallow." He whines, looking up at you desperately. "Oh my god." You shake your head, hand moving from his hair to his throat as you pull him up and kiss him, biting his tongue and bottom lip before pulling back, watching him swallow your load this time and then show you it's gone. "God...If he wasn't with Hyunjin earlier, Felix would've loved you." "Felix!?" He asked shocked, eyes widened as he stares up at you. "Yeah." You smirk, reaching down to take his hand in yours and pull him into the bed before you notice more cum on his hoodie.

"Did you cum again?" He looks down shyly as you pulled the soiled clothing off him and threw it on the floor. "Yeah..." "How can you be so shy and adorable but sexy as hell at the same time?" "I don't know what you mean." He plays innocent as you pull him onto your lap. "Oh really? Were you not just on your knees, grinning cock drunk with my tip on your tongue?" "You can't- Fucking cunt." You laugh as he buries his burning face in your neck and wraps his arms around your neck. You slide down the bed, getting under his blankets with him and laying on your sides. Chan curled up into you, your right arm around his shoulders and left around his waist as his hands are between your bodies.

Before you passed out, Chan taps your chest, you hum in return, eyes closed. "Can we spoon?" "Yeah." You mumble and are shocked to suddenly have his hand back on you. "Are you wanting to cock warm?" He nods as he flips to his other side, whimpering when you do enter before relaxing, your arms wrap around him, his hands resting on yours around him tightly when you pulled him further into you.

You'll regret the consequences for the hickeys later, the only thing you regret is not asking if he wanted to do something sooner.

Hours later, surprisingly seven hours later, you slowly wake up, long been slipped out of Chan who now lays on your chest, arms wrapped around your middle and yours wrapped around his shoulders and the other resting on your stomach.

You're trying to gauge what woke you up. Bathroom? Weird dream? Full nights rest?

With a grunt, you stretch lazily and attempt to open your eyes. They eventually flutter open and the first thing you see is Chan's door cracked open. A bit confused, you shrug it off, going to turn on your side to cuddle Chan when you process the weight on your lap.

If Chan is in your arms, then who-

Your eyes flutter open again to find the answer to the opened door.

"Holy shit." You mutter quietly, letting out a stuttery, soft moan when you finally feel a suffocating tightness around your length, thick thighs encasing yours and your body suddenly going warm as your eyes meet another set of boba eyes and a flushed face.

His hands slide from your pelvis up to your chest as he leans down slightly and you're still shocked speechless.

"Morning, Mn."

"Shit...Changbin-Hyung..."

Oh my god, and I thought Jisung's cliff hanger was good, shit.

Obviously...I'm gonna do the next part.

Kinda digging myself a hole but I have an equal balance of what I'm writing, let's hope I can keep it balanced but if not, I'm gonna have to take a slight break from either Day in a life, drafts build up, cliffhanger continues, or posting in general.

I have adhd and I tend to have too many ideas and then I kind of overwhelm myself but ignore it and carry on.

If I can't carry on at some point, I hope y'all won't mind me taking a pause.

Besides that, Chan's part is done!! 🥳 Hope the wait was worth it. 😅

[brittle-doughie]

OH GOD THERE'S TWO OF THEM

hiiii Brittle, its me, Blue Bird Anon! I come bearing gifts of cookie sprites! Crowned Cupcake Cookie (based on Runebrave's lovely design) and her brother of my own creation, Royal Icing Cookie. I had a lot of fun designing and drawing them so I hope you and everyone enjoy as well! (pssst also my art blog is scarabeeart ;3)

I saw an anon guess that Royal Icing was the pure opposite of his sister, and while that wasn't my original concept for him, I thought the contrast between the two would be a very funny idea hjggffg him being a totally normal, genuinely good guy while his sister is. like that.

But the idea I had for him was a classic prince charming, but with the levels cranked to 11. Brave, chivalrous, humble, generous, rides a white horse, he's got it all! All he wants is to sweep Y/N Cookie off their feet like in a romantic fairy tale and ride into the sunset for their perfect happily ever after together <3 May let the prince charming thing go to his head as he has a secret hero complex and will often put Y/N Cookie into danger purely just so he can heroically swoop in and rescue them. And while his sister is more physical with her use of force to chase away those who get too close to Y/N Cookie, Royal Icing is more manipulative and unhanded. Not above willing to plant fake evidence on other suitors and use it as a way to turn Y/N against them and only trust him. "These Cookies are merely trying to marry you only to claim the throne, they want to usurp you, your adviser is scheming and plotting against you" and all the other fairy tale tropes. Will never fess up to sneaking around because his perfect prince image is incredibly important to him. You trust him, right? He's your fiance! Your prince charming, your knight in shining armor. Of course he wouldn't lie to you <3

(hehe sorry for writing so much! I've been thinking about this for too long hjgfhjgf)

First of all.

That’s some damn incredible work you made here. You are getting a follow from me!

Crowned Cupcake now actually looks like canon compared to my more simple style! She’s even pulling a Cherry Blossom with that triangle mouth there!

Royal Icing too! He looks just as amazing, definitely the charismatic type that no cookie would doubt has a dark side to him! Both of them are just wonderfully done and I really appreciate you taking the time out of your day to do this!

I did think about Icing being exactly like his sister rather than being a kind soul, with him taking the more psychological approach rather then the brute forcing Crowned would do. He’s willing to play any card in his hand to turn it in his favor, even if it meant falsely accusing other cookies if it meant getting them of the picture.

You would trust him more at first. After all, he hadn’t done anything wrong to warrant any kind of suspicion on him! These liars can’t prove anything against your Prince, so you’ll take his side more often then not.

Overall, this is spectacular and I greatly appreciate the work that was done here!