#this is my blog and i make the rules! /joking

[hotvintagepoll]

Ruth Gordon (Rosemary's Baby)—Look. I know "Harold & Maude" is just past the cutoff, and that's without a doubt her scrungliest performance. But this is THEE Ruth Gordon! She's the most persistent of the scrungly little guys, and probably among the littlest while we're at it. This legend-ass legend scrungled her way through Hollywood, on screen and off, for decades until finally getting the recognition she deserved for "Rosemary's Baby." And that performance worked largely in part because she was scrungly with style and pizzazz. Few people could pull that off the way Ruth did. Even if we're not allowed to consider Maude because of a silly little thing like "dates" and "rules" (your rules aren't silly, I love and respect this blog), Minnie is more than enough to prove Ruth Gordons scrunglitude

Cantinflas (Around the World in 80 Days, Ahí está el detalle, Ni Sangre, ni Arena)—OH BOY I GET TO TALK ABOUT CANTINFLAS!! Honestly, I’m not the most qualified to even be talking about him: he was famously a king of wordplay, but Spanish is my second language so I always feel like I’m missing some of the jokes…..but even so he is so SO funny it’s like unbelievable. Ok so also. One movie I can talk confidently about is him in around the world in 80 days, which i have watched so many times and he just rocks. Like. ROCKS. Here he is on his dumb little bike [included below the cut]. This is how we meet him in th movie and I think they should have just put the words “SCRUNGLY” across the scene.He also does little tricks, wears his dumb little shoes, has some kind of weird romantic thing going on with David niven…..it makes me so sad we dont have even more movies from him because honestly his whole thing (esp in 80 days with his silly trousers) is just Gender.  

This is round 2 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Ruth Gordon:

Cantinflas:

"charlie chaplin once called him the greatest comedian alive"

[bougiebutchbinch]

Hey! I support your desire for stone top transmascs because my partner is in fact a stone top transmasc! You're not bad or wrong for not wanting to see other interpretations. This blog is YOUR space! It's wild that people get pissed you for rules on your own damn lawn. Anyway. Do you think Logan gives out spanking sessions when Wade is bratty or does Wade regen so much that Logan has no patience for it?

SHAKES UR HAND SO HARD stone!top trans!logan is love!!! stone!top trans!logan is life!!!!!

I think that his heavy-ass spade hands full of metal bones leave enough of a bruise to make spanking a very gratifying experience for him and Wade, even if Wade heals up quick~ Logan's challenge is to make the bruises blossom over Wade's pert li'l ass faster than they can fade away....

He loves to watch them darken with blood, loves to feel Wade's flesh grow hot and swollen beneath his palms as Wade whimpers and squirms on Logan's lap, leaking so much slick that he matts Logan's thigh hair together...

And he loves how Wade's voice (because he never stopped yapping, even mid-session) jerks up a whole octave with each blow!

Afterwards he hikes Wade's hips onto his lap, letting his upper body dangle, forcing him to catch his weight on his hands on the floor in a down-dog. Wade, obviously, gasps and pants and cracks a joke about how he knows his ass is prettier than his face.

But his voice warbles away into whimpers when Logan licks up the streaming seam of his cunt, pushing his tongue in slow and deep. The bruises spread out like butterfly wings to either side of him, turning a beautiful rainbow of yellows and greens before fading entirely...

[kj-yikes]

12. Pine

(on ao3 here)

A summary, for context: Lena knows that Kara Danvers is the love of her life, but life always had different plans for them. Kara’s dream has always been to take over her family’s Christmas tree farm. Lena runs one of the most successful tech companies halfway across the country. They’re both happy with their lives, except for one thing.

Lena’s only in Midvale for the weekend to meet with the family lawyers to settle the Luthor estate. She definitely doesn’t have the time or mental energy to see Kara, after everything that’s happened between them. But will she see Kara anyway?

Or, an excerpt from the angsty high school sweethearts/situationship/‘Tis the Damn Season AU that’s been bouncing around in my head for months.

CW for marijuana use.

———

Lena’s phone buzzes in quick succession. Glancing down, she sees two Instagram notifications from kdanvers07 overlaid over the picture of her dog she has as her lock screen background.

Lena sighs. Lena’s not sure why she accepted the first Instagram direct message from Kara all those years ago. Her publicist is the one who had suggested (well, forced, rather) Lena to create a public social media profile. People like to see your day-to-day life. It makes you seem more human, her publicist had said. Lena really didn’t think people cared what she ate for breakfast or which dress she wore to last week's museum gala, but somehow, they had flocked to her account by the thousands. 

Kara likely hadn’t thought that Lena would ever see the initial direct message she had sent. Lena could scroll back through their message exchange to the beginning, but she knows it by heart.

It was in response to one of her first Instagram stories, a candid photo of Lena in front of a cake with a giant sparkler in the middle. Lena had her eyes closed, laughing and trying to block the photographer from taking the picture.

Happy birthday. You look just as gorgeous as ever, Kara had written. Lena had found it in her DMs by accident later that night, wine drunk and alone in her apartment. It had been five years since Lena had seen or even talked with Kara. 

Without thinking much about the implications, Lena had navigated to Kara’s profile. She had slowly scrolled through the photos – pictures of Kara at her favorite coffee shop, with her sister Alex at some undisclosed bar, playing board games with friends. 

Lena had lingered on one in particular: a candid of Kara walking away from the camera in the distance towards the edge of her family’s Christmas tree farm, looking over her left shoulder. Kara’s slim figure and broad shoulders were accentuated by the red flannel and tight jeans she was wearing, her long blonde hair down and wavy under her beanie. 

Lena had tapped twice to like it before she realized that it was a two year old photo. There was no undoing that impulsive mistake, so she had tapped the “follow” button and responded to Kara’s DM with a single red heart emoji. 

Lena swipes open the app and sees the two most recent messages from Kara. 

How long are you in Midvale for?

Can I see you?

Lena sighs. She’s only really in town for the weekend to deal with the issue of her parents’ estate. She doubts she’ll have time for much else, but… there’s always a but. Lena knows what will inevitably happen if they get together like the plot of her favorite book.

She recalls the last time she had been in Midvale, the last time she had seen Kara two years ago. Lena was in town, reluctantly, to visit her stepmother, Lillian, and things had gone poorly, as usual. Snide jabs at Lena throughout dinner weren’t anything out of the ordinary, but this particular dinner had been more vicious than usual. Despite everything, Lena was concerned that perhaps Lillian was getting lonely, here in this giant mansion without her husband and children. 

And then, Lillian had dropped the bomb on her.

Lena hadn’t known who else to call that night. Her best friend, Sam, was in Europe working on a merger, and would have long put her phone on do not disturb to get some sleep. And her brother, Lex, would have likely said something snarky about interrupting his evening’s activities before hanging up the phone and leaving Lena alone to her thoughts.

So she had pulled out her phone and messaged Kara, who picked her up in her old pickup truck at the end of the long driveway ten minutes later (despite the fact that Lena knew Kara’s apartment was fifteen minutes away). 

“You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to,” Kara says, a hand on the wheel as she glances over at her in the passenger seat. “I thought we could just drive around for a while. Get you out of the house.” Lena nods.

”That sounds nice, thank you, Kara.” She picks at the cuticles of her fingers in her lap and looks out the window as the trees begin to thin out. Lena watches as they pass through the tiny town square of Midtown, then Kara takes a right and they head back out into the forest. Kara grabs her hand and brings it into her lap, entwined with hers.

Minutes pass, maybe hours. Lena’s not really sure, and she’s lost count of the songs that have played on the crackly radio from the local country station when she spies a familiar gate. The truck rumbles as Kara guides it onto gravel and slides it into park. With a smile, Kara squeezes her hand and opens the car door, hurrying around to open Lena’s before Lena can reach for the handle. 

The parking lot of the Christmas tree farm is completely empty. It’s late January — the part of the year where there's not much work on the farm. Kara grabs her hand and leads her to the bed of the pickup truck, opening the hatch and hopping up. Lena takes the offered hand and joins Kara.

Silently, Kara slides a flask and a hand-rolled joint from the pocket of her chore jacket and presents them to Lena, her eyebrows raised in question. Lena considers, then grabs the joint. Alcohol will just make her more morose. Kara smirks and pockets the flask, producing a lighter. Lena puts the joint in between her her lips, and Kara leans close to Lena to light the joint. Lena can't help but watch Kara's hands as she flicks the lighter.

Lena takes a drag and immediately, the tension in her neck releases. She closes her eyes, exhales. Her eyes open and immediately find Kara's deep blue eyes on her. Kara's cheeks redden slightly at getting caught staring, but she doesn't look away.

Lena pinches the joint between her fingers and passes it to Kara. Holding eye contact, Kara places it in between her lips. They look just as soft and plump as Lena remembers them.

Kara says nothing, waiting for Lena to be ready to talk, as they pass the joint back and forth. Lena's gaze wanders around the lot of the farm. So many memories here. All of them with Kara. It didn't feel like it at the time, but things were simpler back then, over a decade ago. Over a decade since Lena's lived in Midvale, and yet she's back here again, at the Danvers Family Christmas Tree Farm, with Kara. Getting high. Upset about her family.

Time is funny.

"Lionel was my biological father," Lena says, breaking the silence. Kara looks up at her, surprised. "Lillian told me at dinner."

"He never told you."

"No." Lena's eyes meet Kara's again. Kara understands. Kara was there when Lionel died. Kara knows the complexities of Lena's relationship with her father.

Kara searches Lena's face. "Lena, this doesn't change anything about who you are as a person."

Lena's eyes shut, and she lets out a small laugh. Years apart, and it's like no time has passed. Kara still not only knows how Lena's brain works, she also never fails to say so.

It's frustrating. It makes her heart soar, to be so well understood.

"Yeah, I know," she says. She drops the joint to the floor of the truck and puts it out with her boot. "Still hurts, though." Kara notices the tears Lena tries so hard to not let fall. She crosses over to Lena's side of the truck and sits next to her, leaning against the cold metal of the truck. She seems to hesitate for a moment, then grabs both of Lena's hands in hers.

Lena needs more, though. She pulls her hands back and instead tucks her head onto Kara's shoulder. She feels Kara smile as her strong hands wrap around Lena's waist.

Lena cries, and Kara holds her, occasionally giving her tight squeezes and rubbing her back. Eventually, the tears run out.

-----

"Katie Roberts really tried to get you to join her MLM?" Lena asks, laughing. Her head is buzzing pleasantly, and she feels every inch of Kara's body underneath her. "Wasn't she the valedictorian of the class below you?" Kara's eyes shine in the moonlight as she chuckles. They're laying in the bed of the truck, Lena's head on Kara's chest and Kara's arms around Lena. They had moved to lay down under the pretense of stargazing, the pine trees of the farm towering around them. A head on a shoulder turned into full on cuddling within minutes. Despite the years apart, it feels so normal, so comforting. Kara always had that effect on Lena.

"Yep. How the mighty have fallen," Kara jokes. Lena giggles again and shakes her head.

"Truly Midvale's finest." Lena watches Kara laugh, how her tongue presses to the insides of her teeth as she tries not to bust out laughing, how her eyes close happily. It's always so easy, being with Kara. That was never the hard part of their relationship. The hard part was always their different plans for life, their families' plans for their lives. Plans that Kara and Lena could never seem to fit together.

Lena doesn't notice when Kara catches her staring, too caught up in her memories of when things were easier for them. Kara's snort pulls her from her thoughts.

"What?" Kara shakes her head, a smug smile on her face.

"You better be careful, Miss Luthor. You know how handsy I get when I'm high."

Lena smirks, raising an eyebrow.

"And?" Kara eyes light with desire. She smiles goofily, and Lena rolls to straddle her. She places a hand on either side of Kara's face.

"Oh." Kara giggles softly. Lena takes in Kara's sapphire eyes looking up at her — a more beautiful sight than the stars above her, before leaning in to capture Kara's soft, pink lips.

It's like coming home. She lets out a soft moan as Kara grabs her hips and pulls her closer.

God, why didn't Lena come to Midvale more often? Why did they ever decide that long distance wasn't for them? Lena can't remember. Kara's tongue is sliding into her mouth and her teeth are biting Lena's bottom lip and Lena can't help but to melt into Kara over and over again.

Kissing Kara is as grounding as it is erotic. Every thought of her family flies out of her head and is replaced with Kara's calloused hands cupping her cheeks, her lips pressing over and over against Lena's. She's missed this so much. Lena cards her fingers through Kara's hair, and a groan drops from Kara's lips. It awakens something in Lena's lower belly, and she tugs harder, pulling Kara closer and closer.

Somehow, Lena's bra ends up shoved in the corner of the truck bed. Their kisses are eager, but slow, melding into each other as Kara traces her fingertips across the sides of Lena's breasts underneath her sweater. Kara's chore jacket is halfway off, pushed to her elbows but still caught underneath her.

“Stay over,” Kara says breathlessly, pulling away from Lena’s lips and pressing her forehead to Lena’s. “I don’t want you to have to go back there tonight.” Lena’s already shaking her head. God, she wants to. But It's not a good idea. Her high has worn off slightly, and she knows that she'd be in for another argument with Lillian if she isn't there in the morning. And she'd have to explain to Lillian where she was, and Lillian always disliked Kara. It was bound to make a complicated situation worse.

“I can’t. All my stuff is still there, and… I‘m going to have to talk to her eventually,” she finishes lamely. Kara’s mouth is opening in protest, but Lena cuts her off gently. “I appreciate the offer, Kara, but Lillian’s probably already asleep. I won’t have to deal with her until morning, and if I need rescuing again, I’ll call. I promise.” 

If Kara is hurt by this gentle let down, it doesn’t show on her face. She nods resolutely, then captures Lena’s lips in a soft kiss before sitting up. Lena reluctantly rolls off Kara. She doesn't want to stop kissing Kara, but.

“Let’s get out of here, then. It's freezing." Kara offers Lena a hand, and she grabs it, standing. Kara supports her as she maneuvers her way down from the cab of the truck. Kara hops down after her and moves to open the passenger side door. Her hand hovers over the handle, and she looks like she wants to say something else, but after a moment, her blonde waves bounce as she gives her head a little shake.

The drive to the Luthor mansion is silent, but not unpleasantly so. Kara pulls up to the end of the driveway at the gate and lets the car idle. 

“I really appreciate it, Kara. You didn’t have to come get me,” Lena says quietly. It’s dark, but Lena can see Kara's

“It’s no big deal, Lena. Plus, it’s not every day I get to see you.” Kara’s smile looks genuine. “I…miss you.” 

Lena nods. “Yeah. Me too.” She leans over the console and presses her lips to Kara’s softly, gently, only for a few moments, trying to convey to Kara everything she's feeling. Kara’s eyes are still blissfully shut when Lena pulls away and opens the car door.

It's not until Lena's back in her room, laying in her bed, that she realizes her bra is still in the bed of Kara's truck.

------

Lena reads Kara's two DMs again.

How long are you in Midvale for?

Can I see you?

Two simple questions, but so loaded. Lena's torn. The last time she saw Kara, they had almost slept together, and then Lena left town.

She hadn't wanted to leave without saying goodbye to Kara. Her departure had been hasty, and then the chaos of work pushed the events in Midvale aside. It wasn't until days later that she had messaged Kara an apology, to which she had never received a reply. Until today.

I can’t. I’m here to settle the estate, and that’s it. I’m sorry, she types out. Her finger hovers over the send button. It's for the best, she thinks. On top of everything, Lena's not sure she can handle another complicated situation. Nothing's changed between their life circumstances. Lena still runs a company in National City. Kara still runs her family's farm here in Midvale. Neither of them were ever willing to compromise those things for each other. Her heart squeezes painfully as she hits the send button.

Kara's read receipt turns on. She's seen the message. Lena watches as the text bubble appears, disappears, appears, disappears.

I understand. You do what you need to do, Lena. <3

I'm here if you change your mind.

Lena, inevitably, changes her mind by the end of the weekend.

[paging-possum]

on some level I understand that welcome to hell is probably a little harder to sell than hazbin given the *gestures vaguely* entire main plotline of w2h THAT SAID im going to be mad about it forever. because one of them is actually funny and has good character design and compelling dynamics and a good plot and its not the one about the freaking hotel.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

just finished s4 episode 20 "small potatoes"... i mostly had fun, but the end left me feeling icky and then i no longer enjoyed it!!!! will elaborate at a later date!!!

[strawberrysapphocake]

Okay but who wore it better though?

[backslashdelta]

My follower count is currently a very satisfying palindrome so nobody is allowed to follow or unfollow me ever again actually

The only exception is if you want to unfollow me you need to find somebody else to start following me at the same time, or vice versa

Thank you in advance

[ccbatman]

I once said that I thought Steph would make a great Black Canary, and I still think that's one of the realest takes I've ever had.

Like, this moment seared itself into my head and never faded:

{ Robin 80-Page Giant }

[nopedontknow]

PRIDE SANJOU

[izzysarchivedblogs]

So what are Clint's thoughts on the various members of his thunderbolts team?

ANONYMOUSLY ASK ANYTHING -> Accepting All Anons, Asks, & Memes

So this needs a little preface that I personally thing that T-Bolts / the writers fundamentally misunderstand Clint's character, as well as I think T-Bolts is a poor follow up on the Freefall storyline, which I do think was an interesting turn for Clint's character and than there was no continuation or pay-off, or more there should have been more.

There should have been a longer run for Freefall, or a Hawkeye book or run that explores how exactly Clint goes from end of Freefall, to making his way back to being included in greater superhero society.

I just think it's a poor handling, or there could have been a lot more. There's also the fact that it doesn't acknowledge that Clint is a good leader to most degrees; that he had for the most part done well with the WCA and than the original Thunderbolts? It's good, I'm reading that right now, and I feel like the very short T-Bolts run sucks for content, because it's just too short and not building up anything, besides the next big world ending arc event.

That and when I say it misunderstands Clint's character, they needed to show more of the aftermath of Freefall and see Clint having perhaps legal struggles, or see that something happened in those years between, to explain why he wouldn't be riding on Luke Cage a lot harder, cause Clint hates PR, hates marketing, and Tbolts feels corporate, like Clint made it clear if he had been alive during Civil War 1, than he'd have stopped the Superhero Registration act with A BULLET, and even in Civil War 2, he was again removed from that action; and he's the one who gave Carol this unknown to the readers deux ex machina to end the second one; like Clint to his core, would be against what is happening in the current canon of NYC in Marvel comics; like everything that we have based on this character that builds his personality, would be against this, like his last major character arc; we literally see him go against these laws, and be ronin, and like. . .

at the core, when he is presented with everything by Luke and the "PR" manager of the Thunderbolts "project", he should have been more against it based on what we have decades on his character; and he just agrees so quickly. like it just. made no sense. should have been handled differently. like clint was literally thinking about leaving new york, to start a team, because outside new york there weren't legally sanctioned teams / all these extra laws on superheroes, it's just in NYC. LIKE. he was going to leave, start somewhere else, where he wouldn't have these rules and things.

So just to preface, the mun's own bias about the 2022 run, and that will affect how i respond to this and what clint's thoughts are; and to be honest, I did not know most of the characters (i know one of them is new/created for this comic) before literally they appeared in thunderbolts.

like i don't know a lot about the others, so some of this is affected by the fact, that i know nothing of the others beyodn their tbolts appearance and my feelings of 2022 run is very poor.

But to preface a well, that I don't think there is anyone that Clint dislikes on the team. He likes the team, sees that roaster is good, but there's again in the really the issues lie with the fact that I don't think this Tbolts run understands Clint, or goes into the depth of why he would take on this team; like it doesn't recall on the fact that Clint was part of the original Tbolts team, as their leader in their attempt redeem themselve and turn their lives around.

LIKE I'm giving all this preface, cause like, I am a bias human, and thus this colors how I react and view things, and that to go into how Clint feels, which is generally he likes them, and respects them. wee gotta go into why i don't have much of an opinion or more to say there.

also just the way that no one really respects or listens to clint's lead or orders, as the leader. and like they do have moments where they allow him to be written as competent and doing a good job.

it's also why for my blog canon to explain why clint is not super good in this, or why he kind of seems to be a doofus that fumbles (which have we not established that's a bit of an act for clint), is the alcoholism and that he is an alcoholic ("functional") and that perhaps that's playing on clint more and affecting him

ANYWAYS TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION UNDER THE CUT

MONICA RAMBEAU

This is who Clint knows the most about; they have been on teams together and been in the same sphere of each other plenty of times before as superheroes. Monica was on the East Coast Avengers team for a team, when Clint was running the West Coast Avengers; and worked together due to WCA Annual #1 (read it im not going into the plot of that).

He knows Monica, likes Monica, and trusts her. Clint knows what she was capable of, and is glad to have her on the team because they go years back at this point, before any of the other team members.

Clint has a great deal of respect for her and has known her from all her alias, from her being Captain Marvel, to Photon, to Pulsar, and now Spectrum. He is definitely glad to have her on the team, because he's old guard and she's old guard; and there's solidarity and understanding found there.

AMERICA CHAVEZ

This is the next person that Clint knows, personally knows. That's Kate's best friend, so he knows about her. Knows her deal, and has personal opinion formed on her. He likes her, he finds her dependable and knows she's a good kid, a good person. Why wouldn't she be?

They've worked together, were both there for Kate's West Coast team, and there's enough a history there to know how she operates and how to work with her. He respects her and he's glad that she's on his team.

VICTOR ALVAREZ

The new Power Man. Clint would know Victor from the Avengers Academy, although he was not a teacher there for long; but he would know at the least that he's a good kid, and than he would have known from through the extension that he was on the Young Avengers, which was Kate's original team.

He also gets that this is the personal tie in for Luke, because Luke's the original Power Man, and now Victor bears that title. SO Clint comes from Luke's side of view, in knowing what it's like to have a legacy and share a title. So he knows that there is some pressure on his shoulders, and tries to really give Victor some slack on that.

KARA KILLGRAVE

Clint knows that she has been around, may as well be counted as old guard as well, but he's never ran much over lap with her. He knows of her, doesn't have too much of an opinion, besides knowing what its like to be worried about being their own father, about being in their fathers' shadow. He knows to give her the benefit of the doubt. There's respect there, knows that she's got to live up to and redeem herself against.

He's still getting to know who she is, since Clint's rarely ran in the same circles as Alpha flight, even if he did run in the same circles as Carol Danvers and Monica Rambeau.

Terrible taste in sports team though.

GUTSEN GLORY & EEGRO

Who the fuck are these guys? What the fuck are their deals? What's Gutsen's powers?

Clint's gives people the benefit of the doubt; and he doesn't really get the say on who is on his team or not. So he can't say anything more on that, would he have these two on his team if he had control of that?

Probably not, because Clint would need to know them a little better; he would need someone to vouch for them. and that someone, sure can't be the government to vouch for them. The government's word can mean shit-all to Clint. Just look at US Agent coming into the West Coast Avengers.

He doesn't like unknown entities or trust government-vouched for individuals.

NOW He doesn't dislike either of these two; but he doesn't have a good enough read on them. He'll trust them, cause he has to; give them the benefit of thde doubt and extend trust first before judging them harshly (if earned or deserved).

[lilnasxvevo]

Ok I was going to complain about the most annoying tumblr user poll but it looks like that blog has been deleted so it looks like the evil has been defeated you’re welcome citizens

[izzyizumi]

{Well, it's been fun.}

@taichi-x-koushiro still exists too, and I may rb more of them there (what I can find) in the future; ... but Yeah

[grievedifferent]

im enjoying still being stuck in degrassi like i have the last sixth plus months, as you all know, so when i make my degrassi multimuse just know for sixth months ive been waiting to pull the trigger — also i have barely scrolled the dash since yesterday but idk what happened or what’s going on, i only know and am referring to my own personal experiences here idk what’s going on otherwise

[shiroikabocha]

achievement unlocked

fuck this fuck you clicks on you in task manager and hits end task

[coridallasmultipass]

Personal vent and ugly mental illness symptom talk

So, I should unpack this with my therapist, but shit's embarrassing, so I'm just gonna vent it out on the public internet lmao.

I was typing out a whole thing about how I KNOW I'm aromantic, and despite that, still have moments where my brain gaslights me into believing I'm in fairytale love.

I should preface by saying I have not officially been diagnosed with either additional mental illnesses I believe that I have (B.P//D and AD//HD [which lol being on AD//HD meds since antidepressants didn't do anything has given me some notable improvement, but I'm still without a diagnosis], nor Au//tism) DESPITE repeatedly asking multiple therapists multiple times and a psych like 100 times to give me a definitive yes or a no.

But holy shit. So I'm typing about how I've 'Favourite Person'-ed multiple people at multiple points in my life across all ages, and I'm like, okay, it's been a hot minute since I refreshed my definition of that, I should make sure that's still a thing and not something I just made up or has been dropped from the symptoms or whatever the case. I wanna make sure I'm using it right in this rant about how falling into Favourite Personing people in the past has made me believe 'wait, maybe I'm not aro, this HAS to be like the deepest truest love in existence, despite my years of knowing I'm aro.' Like, I'm so aro I once calculated out the date, months in advance, I was gonna tell someone I was dating that I loved them, only because it seemed like a socially acceptable amount of time to say it. I wasn't thinking about what I actually felt lmao. (And that was probably not a FP relationship, too, so I know that was absolutely an aro incident.)

Anyways, so I'm reading a couple articles to make sure I articulate my points about how it's conflicted with being aro, and I read about how people falling into having a FP will even hate that person for the slightest perceived wrongs. (I knew this, I just was thinking about the love incidents since that's what was related to my point about being aro.)

And holy shit. That just. Unlocked a memory I have about when I was an older kid, like probably 9ish (and older), I HATED my best friend of many years and who would continue being my bff for more years. Who was my everything. I couldn't stop thinking about how much I hated them. I would lie awake at night (insomnia too tho) thinking about how much I hated them and I couldn't understand why I didn't just stop being their friend and start hanging out with old friends more instead. I just couldn't do it, I wanted to hang out with THEM. I was so sick and feeling jealous of them whenever I found out they'd been hanging out with someone else one-on-one and I wasn't invited. Even when it was their own family. One time they brought me a plate of cookies by surprise for (before) a holiday that they'd just made with their cousin or something. And I felt so sick about how I wasn't there for that, it felt like an insult. I couldn't have put this into words, unless I just now read that point in an article and made a connection. It was so confusing, because usually the people who hated their 'best friend' was like, the mean girl kinda character who intentionally does it to hurt the innocent main character or something, but I was the one who felt wronged every time those feelings would come up. And this wasn't just a 'man it's so annoying when they do this specific thing.' This was active stewing, in a slow cooker, all day and all night kinda thing.

I was never romantically or sexually attracted to that person, but I probably wrote all this off as either unrelated sexuality or gender bullshit when I figured that out later. But knowing now that there was definitely someone (actually, I'm thinking of WAY more people as I'm typing this, and just realized why I stopped loving a band and started hating them 'for no reason' wow lmao) that I FP'ed who I definitely WASN'T attracted to, suddenly convinces me that I was probably right in suspecting B.P//D. (Or, y'know, maybe I don't have that specifically, and it's the symptom from a different facet of mental illness or whatever.) I've been so hung up over how I'm aro, sometimes ace, and then this 'only' happens towards people I am attracted to. Like, 'maybe it was love and I'm just terrible at it.' (No! It's not! Aro is correct! That's just the brain manipulating me to get another hit of dopamine off a FP! It's just easier to happen to someone I'm attracted to!)

It's no fucking wonder why I always worried about people hating me in secret, and it's because I was absolutely making myself insufferable because of that worry. I know for a fact that some people definitely did hate (or. Lmao. Shut up. Like, 'resented' maybe fits better) me for demanding constant attention that was never reciprocated by anyone I've ever met in my entire life.

I probably wrote-off so many symptoms as 'I was a moody teen and kind of an asshole.' Except it happened before and after I was a teen, too. I would have excused everything that happened during and before high school, when I should have been looking for these patterns I kept following for years after. It doesn't help that my first relationship was wildly toxic (mostly against me in this one case), and while I didn't feel particularly bothered by it after I got over the nightmare breakup, I just kept going 'What if it was the sole cause of all of this and I'm just repressing that?' Well, phew! No, it's not, that was thankfully just a toxic embarrassment, and not the source of all my problems. I was already on the shitstorm trajectory. That's a major relief. If you can call it that. I really don't like discussing that one, but not in a trauma way, more like a, you don't really wanna discuss pissing your pants on accident kinda way. Unpleasant to remember, wildly embarrassing to talk about, but ultimately not a life-altering event.

Ughhhhh. Maybe I should bring this (the mental illness not the relationship) up to the therapist. But like, I haven't been close friends with anyone in like 6 years or so, so I don't have any current or even recent examples about how being in friendships has always turned out Russian Roulette for me. My therapist doesn't seem to believe how bad it was for me to be in friendships where I was unintentionally FP'ing someone. Because besides the depression and anxiety (and mild OCD), I'm a totally normal person to her who's just dealing with shit health problems and grief (and frustration from being trans and not in a safe place to transition). Y'know, normal life problems most people will feel at some point, just chronic in my case. I may be weird, but I'm obviously far from the worst she's seen. I'm not uniquely mentally ill.

((Except the whole 'treatment resistant depression' diagnosis bullshit from the psych, but I'm learning it's not just mental issues I have that are treatment resistant lol.))

I tried talking to her about a small part of all this before, but IDK what I did wrong, she took it 100% as me being the one unintentionally wronged and not setting MY own boundaries (lmao), so like I don't know how to word this in a way she'd understand that most of my problems in this area were my own fault. (I mean that both negatively and neutrally, because it's an ugly side of mental illness, but not one I chose or know how to help.)

Not being in close friendships with anyone has had an understandably sane-ifying effect on me (barring the, y'know, depression/anxiety/OCD and baseline weirdness), which has gotten me trapped for the 5th time in 6 years of making my therapists believe I'm better off than I actually am. (I've done this to every therapist I've ever had before that, too.) But like, again, at least for the past 3 therapists and the latest psych, I AM actually better for not having close friends lmao. Only one therapist ever had one visit of me wanting to address these concerns specifically while they were currently active, and by the next visit, we had to shift exclusively to sudden new grief lol. (What a shitshow. It somehow always ends up that whenever I wanna treat an illness, it's like opening a can of worms, except the worms are firecrackers and I didn't set the can down and step back a few feet.)

Like, it obviously feels safer to not have close friends at all because there's no fear of abandonment if I have no one to begin with. And, genuinely, I operate better when I'm alone. But now that I've known safety, it's hard to imagine throwing myself back into the roulette wheel, hoping I don't land on red OR black. But fuck, man. It is lonely.

And being aro? It's freeing, and validating too, to have a word for it, but I'm not gonna mince words here, I hate it. I wish I could feel romantic love. Like normal, not mentally ill ""love."" I feel platonic love all the time, like for friends (not FP) always. I love saying 'I love you' to friends and meaning it. But I want to feel romantic love. I just don't. I just feel friendship, Favoriting, and/or sexual attraction sometimes. Probably why I'm so into shipping and fanfics. I got a lot more "probably why's" but I don't wanna go down that in this already vulnerable post lol. (I already made a whole post about one of the why's back in like 2013 or 14 lmao, without connecting it to this.)

Anyway, I put this whole mental illness and relationships deal into ugly imagery in a current fic WIP I'm working on, since recognizing I was aro took living through FP'ing a few 'romantic' relationships, before I even first heard the term FP. I only saw my experiences as 'I don't think I've been experiencing love' and that by itself felt like it fit. I didn't realize there was anything wrong, even as I outwardly said shit like 'I don't think I'm fit for being in a relationship' to the few people who asked me out, even when I wanted to say yes.

And then I kept trying to make relationships work lmao. I don't know why I even bothered. I just wanted to be wrong about being aro, especially when it was a point of contention (aro and ace separately) with some of the relationships.

I'd probably have to meet another aro person of the exact same flavour of aromanticism to make it work, but even then the mental illness would just be a ticking time bomb. No one wants to be the recipient of FP 'affection', except maybe sometimes the fictional people in a certain fiction trope that winds up being fetishistic, even if it's not intended to insult real people (but sometimes it is). And it's just a reminder of how I was probably a big source of toxicity for probably half the people who have ever been close with me, if it's even half of how fiction portrays people with this symptom.

I dunno where I wanted to end this vent, so here's probably a good place. Just wanted to get this off my chest, because it just now felt like a pretty big revelation that my problems weren't related to romanticism, I've had purely platonic instances of this dating back to being an older kid, and more during high school, and I just never connected the two before now.

[i2sunric]

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 (l.hs)

PAIRING: demon!heeseung x angel!reader (f)

SUMMARY: in a world where you either become angels or demons in the afterlife, heeseung and you were fates of high ranking. despite all the strict rules cast upon you, you two couldn't help but drown in the forbidden feeling of your love.

WARNINGS: kinktober. frforbidden love, mentions of blood and wounds, angels and demons, lucifer and God (i do not intend to offend anyone), sexual tension, smut, dry humping, making out, missionary, this is basically love making, cream pie, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!) fluff, pet names (angel, baby), bad jokes abt heaven and hell (lame ik), lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 26th October 2024

WC: 3.7k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emislove @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove (oneshot) @mitmit01 @lost-fantasy @annoyednblax @j1sb4e @eneiyri @strayy-kidz @victoriasvz @farashawhee @mheretoreadff @hazycottagedreams @kxppachu @rayofsunshineeee @moon368 @punchbug9-blog @strxwbloody @starggukies @wonbonie @304files @ethelia @moonpri @chuckychangmin @roslayy @cyjhhyj @iamliacamila @lanpanaz BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED

NOW PLAYING: MATCH MADE IN HELL by Dutch Melrose and benny mayne

a/n: honestly (yet again) i don’t really like how it turned out, lol. the smut is mid and isn’t very filthy but hey, i tried. please lmk your thoughts and REBLOG to spread 🫶🩷. i’m not sure i’ll publish my other kinktober works (vampire sunghoon and werewolf jay), cause i won’t be able to finish them on time.

In a world where in the afterlife you become either angels and demons, based on the amount of sins one commits in their previous life, you were the wisest angel.

Of course, being God’s right arm didn’t always mean having cool jobs, like at that moment, while you were searching through all the death certificates of your chosen region to see who would become an angel and find him a place in heaven.

You remembered how it used to be overcrowded, but now it was almost empty.

After a certain amount of time, you stopped being someone’s guardian angel to either reincarnate or stay the eternity in heaven, helping newbie angels and making sure everything was at peace.

Demons would always try to bring chaos into the mundane world, throwing unlucky cards or haunting people’s dreams, trying to drive them insane or make them commit crimes, such as murder, mugging or even as cruel as suicide.

At least, you were given a room to rest for a couple of hours and to be able to do your job properly.

It was white, mostly, with a little bit of beige and pinkish tone. Glittery as well.

Sitting on your desk, you were scanning through the nth file of the night when you heard a loud cracking sound and a groan behind you.

You turned around just to see that Heeseung had teleported there, a deep frown on his face caused by the even deeper cut in his chest, where blood was spilling out.

“Heeseung!” You gasped, and he stumbled as you stood up.

He was the nastiest demon of hell, you two had arrived around at the same time and had always been in a fight since the beginning of your astral days.

Heeseung chuckled, his face paler than usual as he clutched the gash on his chest “It’s just a little cut.” He tried to brush it off, though you were sure if any human had that kind of injury, it would’ve been fatal.

He limped forward, leaning against the wall, giving you one of his usual cocky smirks “No need to worry.”

His smirk would’ve even been hot if he wasn’t bleeding out in the middle of your room, which happened to also be in heaven, a place he definitely shouldn’t be.

Heeseung couldn’t die because, well, he already did. But the healing process would’ve hurt as much as dying another time would.

You hurried towards him, forgetting the work on your desk as you helped him on the bed “What happened?”

He groaned loudly, lowering himself onto the bed and flopping onto it as he clutched his chest, trying to keep the blood from gushing out of his body.

Heeseung hissed, looking up at you with a frown. "Got into a little fight", He muttered, "Can't you just heal me up?" He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly as he smiled at your worried expression.

“With who?” You asked as you unbuttoned his mutilated black shirt and winced when you noticed in what state his skin was.

Dark blood spilled out of the gash, his veins had turned black from some kind of venom you couldn’t quite point out “Or what..?” You asked, knowing it wasn’t made from mere humans or other kinds of demons.

He knew it wasn't a pretty sight. The pain was bearable for him but seeing you so worried made him hate being injured.

Heeseung looked to the side, avoiding your gaze. "You know I can't tell you..." He murmured, his voice low with a hint of guilt.

You frowned, hating that he had to keep it a secret “I don’t care about this hell versus heaven issue,” You snapped, feeling highly frustrated in that situation, “I know you’re hiding your aura so that God won’t sense you here, but you must tell me what hurt you so badly.”

He knew you only wanted the truth, and he didn't like lying to you. “ I can't tell you what hurt me," He whispered, his voice filled with pain that he hid behind his stubborness.

He looked at you, his eyes pleading as he reached to cup your chin in his palm. "Please, stop asking me, angel."

You sighed softly. No pain was comparable to seeing him hurt, “Okay,” You breathed out “I’ll see if I have some healing potion, it should help you.”

He nodded his head slightly, giving you a weak smile “I’d appreciate that.”

Heeseung laid in the bed, his chest feeling heavy with the pain. He didn't dare move to watch you as you frantically searched the drawers, trying to find the potion that would help him.

You opened and reopened drawers in desperate search of the healing potion, but nothing seemed to come to you.

“I’m sure I put it here somewhere,” You murmured as you threw out of your drawers white clothings and other items.

The panicked look in your eyes made his heart ache. He didn't want you to worry so much about him.

Heeseung sat up slowly, wincing as he did so. He reached out towards you, his voice strained as he spoke. "Angel, come here."

“No,” You frowned, not even turning around to look at him “I have to find it- I must.”

He let out a small sigh when you refused to come towards him. He could sense your anxiety rising as you scoured the room for the potion.

“Y/N,," He said, his voice firm but laced with desperation. "Please. come here. You don't need to find it for me right now, just come here."

“I’m sorry,” You whispered as you turned around. The blood dried a little, fortunately the flow had stopped completely.

You moved to the bed, sitting beside him as you adjusted the pillow behind his back.

“Don’t apologise,” His voice was a little too soft for a demon, “I just need you with me right now.”

You chuckled softly, “This looks like a bad joke. An angel worried about a demon.”

A light, amused smile appeared on his face. "It does sound quite ironic, doesn't it?"

He continued, “But I suppose it just shows the power of love, breaking boundaries even between heaven and hell."

You looked at him and nodded, intertwining your hands together, “It indeed is powerful.”

You looked at his gash again, it would take at least a whole day for it to fully close, and a week too for the scar to fade away.

At least, he was in your bed and not somewhere in hell-

bed. bed. under the bed you had some healing potion.

That’s where you had secured it. You jumped off the bed and quickly kneeled to rummage through the boxes.

He looked up in surprise at you when you jumped up so suddenly, his grip on your hand loosening as you rushed towards the bed.

He watched, a puzzled expression on his face, as you knelt down and started to rummage under the bed “What are you doing, angel?"

“Here it is!” You exclaimed, holding up a casket with bottles of healing cream.

He smiled faintly at your enthusiasm. "I can't believe it was right under the bed this whole time," He said, shaking his head slightly in amusement.

You helped him lay on the bed again, making sure he was comfortable. You opened the small bottle and poured some of its contents into your hand.

“This will help your healing process,” You informed as you opened his shirt better, “But it might hurt… a lot.”

Heeseung gave you a quick nod and you gently put the cream on his wound.

He hissed and gripped the sheet beneath him, trying to breath in as much air as he could as his skin burned.

“Shhh,” You soothed, putting the bottle on the ground and caressing his face “Don't fight it baby, it’ll be alright.”

“This ain’t got nothing on me,” He murmured, trying to be strong for the both of you.

The pain was just like dying another time, his skin was slowly healing, but by doing that his body would suffer.

Heeseung’s eyelids slowly grew heavy until they shut because of the pain.

You stayed with him the whole time, until his body stopped rocking in tremors and his skin stopped sweating cold.

He woke up just a couple of hours later, thanks to his high dark aura, making it easier for the healing cream to work.

His chest had been wrapped in a bandage, now being shirtless, just with his black jeans.

His eyes opened, taking in the light colours of your room. You sat beside him, continuing with your heavenly task, but also willing to stay by his side.

Heeseung groaned lowly, his body feeling heavy and sore from the intense pain he had undergone.

He looked around for you, his eyes landing on your figure sitting beside him.

“Angel.." he muttered, his voice weak and hoarse.

You widened your eyes at hearing his voice and quickly discarded the documents on the bed “Hey,” You whispered, turning toward him.

He could feel the effects of the potion, making his body stronger by the minutes “How long was I out for?” He asked.

“No more than a couple of hours,” You informed him, brushing his bangs away.

He nodded, wincing slightly as he moved to sit up in the bed.

Heeseung looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours. "Still doing your work, huh?” He asked, gesturing at the closed documents and pen beside you.

“Angel duties.” You shrugged, giving him a small smile “How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing okay,” You replied, sitting upright “The healing potion is working.”

“That’s good.” You nodded, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you for healing me, angel.” He said, the look in his eyes full of love and devotion.

You smiled gently, “I’m glad you came to me.”

He took your hand in his, “Where else would I go, if not to you?” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze “You’re my safe haven, Y/N.”

Your eyes softened at his words and something warm spread all over your chest. They then fell onto his lips, they looked so plump and soft. You had the urge to kiss him, but you couldn’t.

It was impossible for angels and demons to kiss due to the curse cast upon them, a curse that would make their lips burn as soon as they met.

He sighed softly, Heeseung knew exactly what you were thinking. He was thinking the same, “What would I give just to taste your lips, even just once.” He murmured.

“Me too,” You frowned. “This is so… unfair.”

He nodded in agreement, "It truly is unfair," He said, his voice filled with suppressed anger.

"I wish I could pull you in my arms, hold you close, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. And most of all, I wish I could kiss you, feel the softness of your lips against mine."

You shivered at his words, each one igniting a fire inside of you that could no longer be contained. You needed him and you needed him to need you back.

Still, you joked, trying to lighten the mood “You seem a little too soft for a demon.”

He chuckled softly, a hint of sheepishness in his voice. "I know, I know," He replied, a small smile on his face. “I suppose you bring out the softer side in me, angel.”

You traced your fingers on the bandage you used to cover up his gash, for finally just a small amount of blood had dirtied it “Does it still hurt?”

“No, not anymore.” He gave you a reassuring smile “It’s just a little sore now, nothing I can’t handle.”

Even if his reply was really important, you couldn’t seem to hear it as your eyes settled on his lips.

You moved unconsciously closer to him, and he noticed, licking his lips.

Heeseung held his breath as you leaned closer to him, his heart fluttering in his chest. He could feel the warmth of your skin, the gentle scent of your hair, and the soft touch of your breath against his face.

In a moment of lucidity, you shook your head and moved away. You craved his kiss, but you couldn’t hurt him just because of your selfishness.

“Would it be worth it?” You asked, your voice soft “If we kissed?”

He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes searching yours. He could see the determination in your eyes, the willingness to ignore the consequences.

“God help me," He muttered, his desire outweighing his caution.

He pulled you closer, his hands on your waist, and gently guided you onto his lap.

“Not the best thing to say in heaven.” You chuckled as you settled on his lap, holding yourself up on his shoulders.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You murmured, making sure not to add too much pressure on his aching body.

"Well, I'm not exactly welcome in heaven, aren’t I?" Heeseung shook his head slightly, his hands gentle on your waist. "Don't worry about me, angel," he whispered. "I can handle a little pain if it means I can hold you like this."

He moved your hair out of your eyes as you sighed at the contact “You’re so beautiful.” He stated. “You too,” You replied.

“You truly are an angel.” He caressed your cheek, tracing your featured “And you’re mine.”

You smiled back at him, and for a moment he didn’t even look like a demon. He looked like a human boy, holding his lover in his arms and not caring about anything in the world but for you.

And well, the worst part was that you loved him to the extreme as well.

You knew Heeseung was capable of breaking heaven and rule hell if he wanted, but he would never even consider it if it had the chance to hurt you.

He would set the world on fire to keep you warm, crave out his own wings to give them to you.

And you were no better, you thought you’d turn your back on heaven the second someone threatened to hurt him.

“What happens…” You murmured “If heaven or hell take me away from you?” You needed to hear his answer, to hear just how much he cared about you.

The thought of losing you, of heaven or hell separating you, was something he couldn't bear.

He looked into your eyes, his voice low and filled with determination. "I'll burn down heaven and hell themselves before I let them take you away from me," He said fiercely.

Heeseung pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "Nothing, not heaven or hell, can keep me from you."

At his words, you moved your face closer to his, feeling the ghost of his lips on yours, the electricity between the two of you.

His eyes flicked down to your lips, his own parting slightly in anticipation. He ached to close the distance, to feel the softness of your mouth against his.

His voice a strained whisper. "Y/N."

“Heeseung,” You whispered back “Please— kiss me, even if it hurts.”

The thought of the pain they would endure paled in comparison to the aching emptiness of not kissing you.

He took a deep breath, his voice a hoarse murmur “Damn it, angel. you'll be the death of me."

“Too bad you’re already dead.” Since he wasn’t closing the distance, you did.

You crashed your lips together in a desperate kiss. But as you braced yourself for the stinging sensation, it didn't come.

You pulled away, a surprised frown forming on your face “W-what?”

Heeseung’s expression mirrored yours, stunned, coating his sharp features.

“Maybe the curse was a lie.” You exclaimed “Maybe—“

“I don’t care.” Heeseung breathed out as he pressed his lips against yours once again.

The only thing he wanted was to focus on the sweet taste of your lips against his, the sound of your moans being swallowed in the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and sighed softly, drowning in the feeling of him.

His usual cold skin was now burning hot, even so the mere contact made you shiver.

“I love you,” He whispered on your lips, “Even if my heart can’t beat, I can feel it within me.”

You could feel his growing desire under you, making your body ache for him, “I can feel it too.” You whispered, taking one of his hands and guiding it to the middle of your chest “The pull.”

“Fuck,” He groaned and kissed you hard again.

“No curse words in heaven.” You murmured on his lips, making him smile.

The kiss was hot and anything but pure lust. “You drive me insane.” Heeseung murmured “Damn it, Y/N. The things I want to do to you.” You knew you shouldn’t feel that way, towards a demon. It was against every rule set in heaven.

But who cared? With every swipe of his tongue against yours, you couldn’t even remember what was your porpoise in there.

Unconsciously, you ground your hips on his, making him groan in your mouth.

One of his hands cradled your head, massaging your scalp and pulling your hair gently.

You hummed, loving the way he was so gentle with you.

You placed one of your hands on his chest, but gasped as you felt the bandage. He was still hurt, you couldn’t do it.

But Heeseung just smiled and held your body against his as he turned you around, so you were the one laying on the bed.

He unbuttoned his jeans and kicked them off, as well as his underwear.

You looked down at him and lord, if you didn’t need him. He wasn’t huge, but he was long and thick and eveything you ever wished for.

“I need in you so bad angel,” He murmured, prepping kisses down your neck “Can I have you, hm?”

Mindlessly, you nodded. You thought that if he even asked you to give everything up and run away, you’d agree right away.

His hands roamed your body, groping your breast, then down your stomach as he sucked on your skin, leaving reddish marks.

Not even caring about the consequences, your hands tangled in his locks, encouraging him to continue.

In just a matter of seconds, your clothes were forgotten on the floor as he took in the sight of you. So ethereal and so his.

Heeseung licked his bottom lip and leaned in to kiss you once more, “It might hurt.” He informed.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing his chest flush to yours “I want the pain. I told you you’re worth it.”

His hips unconsciously bucked at your words, making his forehead press against your shoulder.

Heeseung took his length in his grasp and aligned with your entrance, “If you need me to stop or slow down, tell me.”

You nodded, breathing out a quick reply before he pushed himself in.

You had expected it to hurt, to burn the same way your kiss should’ve. But all you could feel was him and the sweet sensation it sent through your body.

Heeseung groaned, your walls hugging him so tightly. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to go at a slow pace.

“You’re so perfect.” He murmured, kissing your collarbone “You’re just so perfect, I don’t know how you ended up with someone like me.”

You shook your head, wanting to tell him he was wrong but his pace quickened and each thrust sent ripples of pleasure through your body.

“I love you too.” You replied to his previous confession “S’much.”

His hips stilled at your words, his breath hitching. And then, his pace resumed, quickened as he held himself up.

He rested one of your legs on his shoulder and lightly kissed your ankle.

“So good, angel.” Heeseung grunted, the sound of skin slapping filling the heavenly room.

“Ugh!” You exclaimed as he hit a certain spot that made your toe curl “There, Hee, there.”

“Got it.” He chuckled and deepened his thrust, repeatedly hitting that spot, “Found your sweet spot, mh?” He asked, his voice low and husky.

Heeseung looked so perfect, his muscled body on full display, the bandage wrapped around his torso and his bangs sticking to his forehead.

He bit his bottom lip as he tried not to release before you, one of his hands moving down to circle your clit, wanting to bring the both of you to the edge at the same time.

Your body shook in tremors as he did, the pleasure almost too much.

Your back arched as you breathed out his name, needing him to stop and continue at the same time.

“Just a little more, baby.” He snapped his hips faster, letting your ankle go and hovering over you.

Both of your breaths mended, just panting onto each others’ lips as you felt your orgasm approaching.

You cradled his face in your hands and kissed him hard, teeth clashing.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you reached the edge, your body shaking. Heeseung throbbed at each clench of your pussy around him, emptying his seed inside of you.

His hips slowed, but he didn’t pull out. He intended staying like that for as long as he could.

He laid beside you not to crash you, but not even having the energy anymore to hover your figure.

He wrapped his arms around your body and held you close to your chest, “I don’t ever want to let go.”

“Don’t.” You stated, holding onto him for dear life “Don’t ever let me go.”

“As long as you’ll let me.” He whispered and kissed you again, deeply and slowly. For all the times he had wanted to kiss you but couldn’t because of the nonexistent curse.

Oh, but if only you knew the curse existed, but didn’t work for those who were soulmates in their past lives.