#this is why we block blank blogs like you

[satoruhour]

writer’s works are not for you to fucking feed through an AI voice bot and then slap minecraft videos on it like it’s a fucking reddit AITA post like actually go FUCK yourself. this shit is why writers stop writing and leave tumblr because you can’t just read and reblog it and show your support but always have to do shit like this just cause it’s convenient for you

you want to do those AITA videos go to the reddit like a normal person and then maybe you’d be making bank making those videos. leave writers alone you sick fuck

[highvern]

Honey

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: smut

warnings: strip tease, kinda public sex?, unprotected sex, creampie, simp mingyu, established relationship, dry humping (in a hot tub), fingering, face fucking/oral (m. receiving), porn with feelings, mingyu has a thing for being called husband, breeding kink

Length: ~2.8k

Note: inspired by the two seconds of mingyu in lalali. sorry @gyuswhore next time dont let your man act like a fool. this is a continuation of Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) but can be read as a stand alone! see below for their master list

Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) [f,s], Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) II [f]

Pre-Drunk Goggles (in order): Peaches [f], Bite the Bullet [f, h], Jealousy [a, h]

Post-Drunk Goggles (in order): Silk [s], Aphrodite [f, s], Discovery [s], Lucky Me [f], adamas et aurum [f], Baby Blues [f]

Summary: The best way to recover from the stress of your wedding and celebrate your marriage? Some private time in the hot tub with your new husband.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Twenty four hours.

You’d been married for twenty four hours and can barely keep your eyes open from exhaustion. Not because of your husband and the vigorous but romantic sex he insisted on having on every surface of the cabin your friends chipped in to rent as a wedding present. No, you’ve barely managed to touch each other beyond agonizingly fatigued kisses and sentimental cuddles. 

Last night you both barely managed to make it into the bed before passing out cold. This morning, you found Mingyu nodding off at the stove after insisting on cooking breakfast while you showered. A few lazy gropes during breakfast (Mingyu’s hand barely toeing the line of indecent on your thigh) and a hot kiss before he left the bed was all the action managed in the first day as a newly wed couple. 

It’s still a funny word: husband. For so long husband was hypothetical; a distant idea that someday you’d have one. Maybe. If you found someone you could put up with long enough to start considering them as a long term partner instead of a fling.

And then Mingyu went from an acquaintance to boyfriend in a matter of months and the hypotheticals started shaping into realities with shocking speed.

The amorphous face of your hypothetical-husband slowly started to resemble Mingyu’s day after day. Week after week. And now, after months of planning, hair pulling, and a day full of tears, Mingyu is your husband. 

And he’s waiting for you in the hot tub just outside.

It’s the middle of the day but time ceases to maintain importance on vacation. But after a late breakfast you both agreed the best thing for your aching bodies was an afternoon relaxing in the hot tub until you both pruned like raisins. 

You spot the head of dark hair belonging to your fiance husband through the glass sliding doors leading onto the back porch. Beyond him is a full view of the lake, sparkling under the sun. It’s a deception of warmth but a breathtaking sight nonetheless. 

But nothing compared to Mingyu whipping around at the sound of the door opening with a pleased smile. Until his eyes drop to your bikini. 

“Why are you wearing that?” he asks with a pout. 

Glancing down at the black two piece, you pout back. “I thought you liked this one?”

“I like whatever you wear, but the point of being married is that we can walk around naked as much as we want.”

“We already do that.”

“And it’s one of my favorite traditions,” Mingyu says, resettling across the tub to watch. “Now get that off and get over here. I miss you.”

You reach behind your back, you tug at the string of your top until the knot unravels. As the fabric slackens around your chest, Mingyu’s eyes follow with rapt attention. He’s seen you naked thousands of times but never fails to act like it's the first again. Your nipples peak under his stare, sensitive as the fabric brushes against them as you fling the top to the ground. 

“Now we’re the same,” you say with a coy smile, closing the space to the hot tub in a few short steps.

“Wrong.” He fumbles for a second, hands disappearing under the surface. The water sloshes around as he battles to pull off his shorts and drops them to the deck with a splat. “The only thing I want to see you in are those rings.”

“Mingyu!” you gasp mockingly, ignoring the heat pooling between your legs in favor of dragging out the game. “What if someone sees?”

No one will. The cabins on either side of yours are dark and empty, and most of the houses skirting around the lake are so far away no one could possibly decipher what you two were doing in the shade of the porch awning anyway. 

“Then they’ll see how beautiful my wife is.” 

Blood rings in your ears at the way he says it; fond with a hint of pride. Like he still can’t believe you said yes in the first place. Like it was ever a question if and not when.

Mingyu whines pathetically as you scramble to remove your flimsy bottoms without flourish. It's too cold to stand around and do a full strip tease even if your husband’s eyes burn right through you. They join his swimsuit at the foot of the tub before you slip into the gentle embrace of the water.

Your ass barely meets the seat before Mingyu pulls you into his lap and kisses you. Arms circling around his shoulders, you sink a hand in his hair and tug until he welcomes your tongue. Your thighs straddle across his, bare skin on bare skin only interrupted by the silky feel of water. Even that doesn’t manage to disguise the electricity between your bodies. Or the fact that Mingyu's cock is already hard and waiting for use.

“Mmm. Missed you,” he whispers into the warmth of your cheek before descending across your jaw.

Bones turning to jelly, you melt under his attention like always. Mingyu loves to make you putty with little effort. You tip your chin up to make room for his tongue over the dip between your collarbones. “I was gone for five minutes.”

“Too long.”

He punctuates the complaint with a harsh suck of your nipple. It puckers between his teeth, sensitive and needy for attention. The sting serves as the perfect distraction from his hands sliding lower to palm your ass, fingertips grazing your entrance. 

“Fuck,” you gasp. Your hips search for more pleasure, sinking back until Mingyu stretches you around his knuckles with practice ease. The water washes away any arousal lingering but you won’t give up the prod of thick fingers for a little discomfort.

“Can you say it?”

Even before it became official he loved hearing you say any declaration that he belongs to you: boyfriend, fiance, and now—

“Husband.”

Mingyu groans into your chest as you whisper his new epithet, exploding with renewed vigor across your neglected breast. Indulging in the way his cock twitches against your thigh at the word, you curl your hips into the pressure. It's a difficult choice: Mingyu’s fingers filling you just right or the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit. 

Moving back and forth, the water sloshes over the sides of the tub as you greedily try to keep both. It’s hotter knowing Mingyu gets off on it too; the way you always want more, more of him, his hands, his mouth, his cock. Even rutting across his thigh after he cums until it hurts can make him hard again if you’re enjoying yourself.

Sinking a hand down, you tug at his cock, jerking him off right against your folds. With a tight fist, you crumble Mingyu to pieces with a few short strokes. The effort is rewarded with bites into your bottom lip and a hand at the base of your spine.

“Wait, shit,” he gasps. He’s closer than he wants to be. Clear in the tightness of his shoulders and pinch around his nose. Nothing gets him hotter than the memory of your first time together, when he used you pussy to jerk himself off; coating your panties in his cum. You know he still has a picture from the second time he did it saved on his phone after all these years.

Mingyu’s lips don’t leave yours as he stands, carrying you to the lip of the tub and sitting back down. He doesn’t let you slip to your knees in front of him at first. You’re trapped with lewd kisses and the flex of his fingers into the dip of your waist until he calms. 

“Let,” kiss. “Me,” kiss. “Taste,” teeth. “You.” 

Mingyu bucks into your ass at the offer before letting go. He’s never said no to a blowjob and he won’t start now given how much you like it too. 

But he’s cocky, arms resting on the edge of the tub as he presents the nude visage of his front like a dare. It’s bold given his habit of devolving into a needy mess at the first hint of satisfaction.

Your hand keeps pace while your lips ghost down Mingyu’s neck. His nipples stiffen with quick attention, almost more sensitive than your own but that isn’t your goal right now. Your mouth starts to water when you reach his stomach, tracing the ridges and dips with all the time in the world. 

Just as Mingyu gets the first syllable of protest at the tip of his tongue, you suck him between your lips with cruel enthusiasm.

All the kinks in his armor become the highlights: a coarse lick where he leaks, a tight fist at the base, your other hand cupping lower until he moans loud enough to echo across the lake. For your own sick pleasure, you back away enough to tap him against the flat of your tongue, pink against the tip of his cock, eyes on his until Mingyu is forced to look away or risk painting your face in white far too soon.

“Slow down,” he commands. More of a beg since his head tips back when you take him until the curve of your throat objects. “Fuck–Jesus Christ.”

You arch your spine, ass displayed like a prize. Another one of Mingyu’s weaknesses. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s let you suck him off without reaching over to feel how wet you get from the weight against your tongue. If he chances a look down again (inevitable) you’ve provided a great surprise.

His cock falls from your hold long enough to rasp, “Fuck my mouth.”

At the end of the day, who is Mingyu to deny his wife what she demands for?

Timid with the first thrust like always, Mingyu plants a hand on the back of your head, fingers woven into your hair for his own sanity. You like to surprise him by filling your throat as quickly as possible just to see Mingyu squirm. Nothing makes you blinder to your own limits than his pleasure. But years of taking him make it easy to work around. 

He’s trying. The effort is in the twitch of muscles bracketing your shoulders, the gentle tugs of his fingers, the way Mingyu can barely bite back the flow of curse when you choke around him deep in your throat. Your jaw is already growing sore but no obstacle against the desire to see Mingyu shake.

Then Mingyu does something that shocks you.

Your hand pauses its work under the gentle squeeze of his. Mouth still full, you flash your eyes open to find him staring down in awe. For a second you wonder if it's just because time had been short the past few weeks between wedding planning and traveling. But then he pulls your hand away from his cock and towards your mouth, and you finally realize what caught his attention.

The rings. The plain band that matches the one circling his finger and the special one he spent months trying to keep a secret.

Mingyu kisses across your knuckles, thumb tracing the metal and stone like it’s a wonder. He did the same motion over and over again last night: walking back up the aisle as husband and wife, at the reception as you both greeted guest after guest while glued to each other, in the car ride to the cabin across the center console, before you both fell asleep still fully clothed. 

Without any words, you’re pulled up into his lap for a searing kiss.

“I love you,” he sighs. His tongue slides against yours, slick as he tastes the mess you happily lapped up at his crotch.

“I love you too.”

You feel it. Feel it more than anything in the world. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It shivers down your spine, and blushes across your front. The effect of those three words, simple but so much more, seems almost too much for the daylight just beyond the awning of the porch. 

Out of the water, the cool air prickles along your back, forcing your chest to cave against the cold but Mingyu is there to warm you up with the stretch of his cock. 

You hide the satisfaction in the column of his neck, teeth razing wet across the vein there. He tastes like chlorine and that expensive cologne you jump his bones for. The idea of leaving a bruise like some teenager where everyone can see settles an ache in your core. It’s the first time Mingyu is inside you as your husband and it nearly rips apart the fabric of your being,

In a frenzy, your hips rut before Mingyu can orient himself to the snug feel of your walls. The angle is nothing short of cosmic. Clit rubbing against his pubic bone, cock battering that place inside that makes your joints lock. And the stretch after an unfulfilling glimpse on his fingers only burns you hotter.

The slap of your skin against his is an afterthought, background noise to grunts and groans and pathetic whines that meld between your mouths. In the thick of need, you aren’t even kissing. Just panting into one another’s mouth with narrowed vision. 

Mingyu sinks you lower in his lap with a smooth grind. “Tell me how it feels.”

“Like my husband is trying to get me pregnant.” You go cross eyed from the drag of his thumb against your worn bundle of never. Nothing makes him more desperate to please than the thought of you heavy with his your baby. 

No chance it’ll happen any time soon but the sentiment does wonders.

Another hard thrust threatening to leave you bedridden for the next week.“Fuck—please.”

“You’re mine,” Mingyu groans.

Writhing against his grip, sweat blooms at your brow. You can’t manage to respond with more than a cracked whine. Too focused on the wave rushing across the edges of your senses. 

“There! Fuck! Right there, Gyu.” You come in hot, carried by the rough way Mingyu forces you down his cock again and again. 

Nails biting into his biceps, your insides flutter tight, trying to pull Mingyu deeper even if he’s snug to the hilt. Full, deep, stretched beyond belief. Eyes cinched, muscles vibrating, you cum on your husband's cock with a broken grunt you’ll remember to be embarrassed about later.

“That's it, take it.” Mingyu coos with an edge. “My pretty fucking girl, my wife. Mine, all mine.”

Your knees hurt and your legs are numb from exertion and a killer orgasm. But you won’t call it until Mingyu gets his fill too.

“Close?” you pant. 

A hand at your throat is the warning, already knowing your plans to goad him to the edge if he isn’t there already. His thumb cocks your chin up so his tongue can lick the words right out of your mouth. 

A few more weak movements spell his ends. Mingyu cums with a grunt. Muscles tense, stomach caved, you scramble for hold under the threat of slipping back into the hot tub from the rushes of his cock to stuff you full with his spend. You’ll be sore tomorrow from the way he forces your thighs wider, until you’re flat against him, taking it deeper.

A sticky mess grows between your legs, warmly welcomed since the last time you felt it weeks ago. A peek between your bodies gets you ready to go again. But you still crave more. Ringed white around the base, Mingyu twitches inside you again when you clench just to tease him. 

“Love you, love you, love you…” Mingyu chants into your mouth until he goes slack with a long huff.

You find rest in his shoulder. Mingyu rubs his cheek against yours, innocent and domestic. He isn’t shy about most things but after you fuck eachother silly he likes to remind the universe its from a place of devotion.

“Marriage looks good on you.” 

“You too.” You smile. “Now take me to bed, I’m not done with you yet.”

“Whatever my wife demands.”

“That's my good husband.” The hand ruffling his hair is quickly snatched away, giving Mingyu the perfect opening to toss you over his shoulder before heading inside.

--

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @bbychocolat

@dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[tteokdoroki]

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. the damage is done.

about. when satoru decides that he wants you (his ex) back, his foolproof plan starts off by making your new partner extremely insecure..

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, non canon, toxic relationships, love bombing, exes to lovers, gaslighting, infidelity, cheating, breeding, fingering, multiple orgasms, couch sex, oral sex ( f! receiving ), unprotected sex, ex boyfriend!gojo, fem!reader.

ex!gojo who slides into the dms of your current partner to slowly make them insecure.

he acts like a nice guy, offers advice on what to do when you’re mad, what you like to eat, how to keep you all sedated and happy. your current partner starts to gush about how cool of a dude satoru gojo is. how could you pass up on such an amazing guy? he’s rich, funny, caring — they can see how you fell for him.

but what they don’t understand is the greedy side of satoru — the one who one who wanted you all to himself. the guy who never let you go out, who made you cry but made you cum with the promise of never hurting your feelings again.

sometimes the advice gets a little too specific. how does satoru know where you keep your sex toys for kinky nights of fun. why does he know the spot that makes you arch your back off of the sweaty sheets just like that? or how many fingers you like to take? or how long it takes before you start gagging on cock.

it makes your new partner insecure, gives them performance anxiety and ruins the vibes of your bedroom. they can’t communicate with you, at least not properly — it leads to fights that are all too familiar. conversations you’ve had with satoru before. your little insecurities and biggest fears are thrown into your face, things they know will hurt you deep down you. these are some of the first times you cry because of your new partner.

it’s all too familiar, these are things you’ve gone through before with your ex — the recognisable twinge in your chest and feeling of guilt after being gaslight is something you know all too well.

“he was right, you really are just a cry baby.” they say. “since he knows so much about you, maybe you should go back to fucking him.” which feels like a bullet to your heart because you’ve spent so much time proving to your partner that you’re over your ex and all the bullshit that satoru put you through. all the drama and all the trauma he left you with.

your partner leaves for the night, leaving you alone with your tears and the tiny voice in the back of your mind that tells you it’s all satoru’s fault. it goads you into calling him, his number which you blocked but kept written down in your notes app in case of emergency. it’s been forever since you last spoke to your ex and told him you wanted nothing to do with him — so you’re surprised when he picks up on the second ring, seemingly happy to hear your voice.

“what did you do, satoru?” his name on your tongue is foreign yet also familiar. you’ve said it a million times before, in many different ways (lust, love and loss) but this time you’re angry. like the last time you spoke.

“what do you mean?”

he plays coy and you feel your temper bubble. “we got into a fight, i know it’s your fault. what did you say to them?”

“shouldn’t you be making up with them?” gojo answers your question with a question, his all-knowing smirk transcending down the static on the line. “why was your first thought to call me?”

that makes you falter, stops your typhoon of rage in its place.

the truth is, you know why you called. deep down you know that gojo could fix this, when you fought as a couple you would always call him first and in tears — letting him calm you down. gaslighting you in the process. he always knew what to say to scab over the wounds of your arguments, patching over deep cuts with little white lies even if he would reopen them and leave mental scars in place.

when you fight with your partner now, you seek the same sort of unhealthy comfort in the only person who you know will give it you and that’s exactly what satoru wants.

“let me come over,” he states, suave. “let me help you fix this.” he takes advantage of your emotional torment, butters you up with the promise of comforting you and against your better judgement — you let him. your partner abandoned you, satoru wants to help you. you’ve always known that he still loved you, at least he wouldn’t leave, at least he’s not like your partner.

regret will come in the morning, you think, when you let satoru into your apartment and back into your life. he knows that everything on the walls are different, the picture frames are now brown instead of white and hold photos of your current life in place of what you had with your ex. the furniture has moved and the diffuser at the entryway smells different. but as much as you’ve tried, you can’t get rid of your ex, satoru gojo. he will always make his way back to you.

he makes sure that you’re aware of this when he kisses you on the couch that you kept from your previous relationship. satoru tells you that you’ll always need him when he pins your hips to its leather with a strong arm and buries his white head of hair between your warm, thick thighs. he proves it to you with the way that his tongue licks broad strokes against the entire length of your sex and flicks at your clit because he knows that how you like you it, he knows you’ll cum in seconds if he eats you out like that.

there’s going to be a stain in the couch from just how much more you gush on satoru’s skilled fingers and tongue, as he moans against your sopping mound and tells you how he’s the only one who could ever make you see stars this way. his face gleams with your arousal and his eyes sparkle knowingly because it’s true. you’ve never felt as good as you have with satoru in comparison to anyone else. it puts doubt in your mind, makes you question why you even left him in the first place.

though, you don’t have much time to dwell on the thought…because in hurried yet precise movements — gojo is making you cum on his fingers again. the rough pad of his thumb possessively writes the letters of his name against your pulsating clit — hardened by blood that rushes to it, carrying lustful hormones from your frenzied mind. he loves how you taste when you cum, how you cling to him, how he knows that you’ll never forget this phenomenalfeeling after tonight.

it’s a little too intimate for two exes when satoru makes you ride him. his legs spread wide while you straddle his lap, creating the perfect angle for his cock to nudge against that one special pleasure spot inside of you. you’ve missed his cock, it’s perfect length and thickness — it’s pretty pink tip that oozes so much precum that’s all for you. it’s only ever been for you.

the way satoru’s large palms cup the globes of your ass and guide you back and forth over his lap unlocks a nostalgic and loving feeling in your rapidly rising and falling chest. he kisses you with so much passion that you’re reminded of the good nights you spent with him — making love until sunrise while his tongue rolls over yours and licks at your teeth. you’re naked and chest to chest, noses becoming neighbours while the course of your breathing syncs up. it’s overwhelming, how adored you feel in the moment, all while fucking your ex on the couch.

you grope at each other like it’ll be the final time you ever have sex like this. your hands settle at the base of satoru’s neck and his on your waist while you languidly move together in a salacious dance routine you’ve done so many times before. you’re perfect partners, it’s evident in the way you reward his throbbing cock with dribbles of your creamy arousal — droplets of soft white running down and catching on veins on his shaft.

“i’m always going to love you, baby,” satoru’s soft laments echo through the home you’ve made with your over lover — barely audible over his balls slapping against your peachy ass and your cunt selfishly squeezing down on him, squelching with every thrust. “i’m always gonna want you like this, even when we fuck up. e-even when we’re not together,” he growls and rambles, blissful blue eyes darting all over your face twisted with ecstasy and right down to where you paint him with arousal and suck him in so well. “fuuuck, i wanna cum…s-say you want it, say you want me.”

it’s overwhelming, how much love you have for satoru. for your ex. it washes over your feelings of guilt in regard to your infidelity, any bad emotion or thought of your partner cannot compare to the burning and bright lust that flickers in your tummy. when you fuck yourself down on gojo’s throbbing girth he pulls back out of your snug, salacious sex — creating a delicious cycle of friction that you never want to forget. that you miss so bad.

“i want…i want you!” you stutter, tears brewing in your starry eyes. “i miss you, i love you,” the words rush out of you before your hazy mind can even catch up and register them. you barely manage to register that you’re fucking your ex just mere hours after arguing with your special one. it doesn’t matter, not right now and not in this moment. not when satoru teases your clit until you’re able to cum all over him, painting his thighs with your slick as you slump against him.

even though he shouldn’t, even though he’s ruined your relationship, gojo cums inside your quivering cunt. fills you to the brim with his viscous, scorching seed and there’s so much of it that it seeps from your entrance — pooling okto the couch below.

“i love you.”

“i know.”

“come back to me, baby.”

“i…i don’t know if i can…”

you want to so badly, especially the damage is done, sealed by stolen kisses that’ll mean nothing in the morning.

satoru’s gotten what he wanted, to make you question your relationship and remind you of why you should come back to him. you fell asleep an intertwined mess on the couch and he leaves in the early hours of the next day.

all so that your current partner will never know the events that occurred on the night of your fight — you don’t have to heart to tell them when they come back the next morning with your favourite flowers and an apology. they shouldn’t have left you. they shouldn’t have gone to satoru behind your back. they love you.

but it’s already too late, a seed of doubt has been planted in your mind by your ex. you release that you still want him, that you might even miss him and the foundation of your new relationship becomes shaky and unstable.

you’ve grown insecure and you will always be comparing your current partner to your last partner. to gojo.

and your lover? now they’re insecure too, because you’re always so distant and you always smell a little different when you come home these days.

because you’ve started going behind their back to be with your ex, satoru, too.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[flawseer]

In your last ask, you mentioned misgivings with Book 10's ending, and especially how it pertains to Winter. I absolutely agree, and I know why, but I wanna hear your thoughts on it, too: What's up with Book 10?

The following is a (very long) examination of my personal feelings with regards to the WoF second story arc finale. While it is based on what is in the text, this analysis will be interpretive and fill in blanks with my own thoughts. Keep that in mind.

Hahhhh... okay. Since mentioning it in my last post I’ve gotten several requests to talk about my feelings regarding the second arc finale. There’s probably no way around it then.

If you haven’t read that last post (it was admittedly very long, and so will this one be), I talked briefly about why I didn’t like that part of the story. I have to warn you now, this will likely be the most negative and dour post in the history of this blog. In a few parts it will sound like I hate Wings of Fire, and I want to say now, while I still have the chance, that I don’t. I love this series, thinking about its setting and characters brings me joy.

I also—very emphatically—want to make it clear that I have no ill will against Tui T. Sutherland. I’ve looked around other people’s stuff a bit and there are a huge number of posts wishing violence upon her or threatening her for doing things to her series that people don’t agree with. That is NOT what I am doing here, shit like that is NOT okay! While I will be critical of her choices, I still respect her effort of bringing this vibrant, wonderful world of dragons to all of us.

Also, obligatory last disclaimer: If you liked the finale, that is okay. You are valid for feeling that way. I’m here to share my point of view, not to demand people agree with everything I say. Just be warned that you most likely won’t enjoy what I have to say. If you don’t think you can handle that kind of criticism, this is your guilt-free opportunity to stop reading.

Otherwise, let's get into it.

CW: Discussion of parental abuse, depression, disease, and extreme acts of violence.

In defense of the finale

Before I start to systematically disassemble this narrative and get lost in a quagmire of negativity, let’s talk a bit about the circumstances that brought forth this part of the story. The plot of this arc was a mess from the moment animus magic was unshackled from the restrictions it had in the first arc, and from then on there was no longer any conceivable way to end this story in a clean way. Sutherland had created an invincible, unbeatable, omnipotent villain; he could read minds, see the future with perfect clarity, and anything he could imagine he could conjure into existence at any time with no cost to himself and no drawbacks. She was likely wracking her brain about how to resolve this impossible conundrum. What we got wasn’t good, but I believe nothing could have been. The foundation was rotting and by the fifth book it couldn’t bear the weight of the plot anymore.

The thing about animus magic in arc 2 is that it is so potent, so all-powerful, and so free of restraint that everyone who uses it also HAS to be a simpleton, or they would be able to break the plot immediately and become god. From the moment Darkstalker broke out of that mountain, he could have said “Any and all spells that are cast with the intention to harm me, interfere with my plans, or do something I don’t consent to will not work, from now on until forever”, and he would have instantly won. The strawberry would have fizzled out. The Darkstalker-blocking earrings would not have been created, and no one could have saved the Icewings. On the flipside, Turtle or Anemone could have said “I enchant the concept of animus magic itself to no longer obey Darkstalker”, and his threat would have been neutered. Point is, powers as potent and easy to use as this really need limitations, or they will quickly eat your plot alive.

I don’t envy the situation Sutherland was in at the time at all. If you’re an author, that kind of thing is a nightmare. It really is no wonder she decided to blow up animus magic for good in her next arc, even if I would have preferred it to get more healthy restrictions instead of killing it outright.

The Darkstalker age regression thing

Everyone has talked this part to death already, but if I am to write a thorough analysis of my feelings regarding this finale, I’m going to have to talk about it as well. I’m sorry if I end up repeating a lot of things you’ve already heard.

This final fate of Darkstalker, to have his memories wiped and be reset to an infant, is really uncomfortable. As far as I am aware, though correct me if I’m wrong, Sutherland said in an interview that she didn’t want Darkstalker to die because, in her view, he did not deserve to. We can debate here about the philosophical question of whether anyone is truly deserving of death, and the merits of “justice” and “punishment”, but in general, Wings of Fire did not seem to have any issues killing off its villains prior if they committed suitably terrible acts. That makes this moment stand out as noteworthy.

Who is Darkstalker then--and if we assume villains can be “deserving” and “not deserving” of death--what about him speaks in his favor, or against? The guy had a pretty crappy childhood, coming from a broken home (there is that inadequate parent theme again). He genuinely loved his sister and felt protective of her, and whenever he liked someone he wanted them to be happy and feel affirmed. The thing that Queen Diamond does to his mother is awful and he is justified in hating her for it. He is also portrayed as rather sympathetic in Moon Rising. When he asks Moon to find his scroll for him and not to leave him, he is not manipulating her, he is sincerely begging for her help. He is stuck somewhere underground, trapped in darkness, in a space so tiny that he can’t move. He remains that way for months, lonely and sad. If you just focus on these aspects, it’s easy to understand why he has so many fans who want him to see healthy and happy.

On the flipside, while he is dedicated to the happiness of his friends, he doesn’t always go for the most ethical way to achieve it. He tries to brainwash said friends without their consent whenever they exhibit behaviors he doesn’t like, or when he thinks he knows better and wants to “fix” them. He has very little regard for other people’s autonomy, lies to his loved ones with alarming frequency, and is unhealthily attached to the idea of power. Those things are certainly not good, but they are his character flaws. These are his demons; everyone has them and they make him a person. If this was all there was to it, he might still be a villain, but I’d argue he’d not be wholly irredeemable.

But there are things about him that take him beyond the pale. Things that go beyond the realm of just being misunderstood, or easily excusable.

He is possessive. He wants Clearsight and Fathom for himself, and for them to listen to him primarily. When Indigo makes it clear she doesn’t like him and cautions Fathom against trusting him, he deceives his friends and traps Indigo in a wood carving, just so he can isolate Fathom from his support network and manipulate him easier. He alters Clearsight’s mind to make her more agreeable and stop her from holding him accountable for his actions; while he thinks he loves her, he only loves an idealized version of her that is wholly devoted to and unquestioning of him. This is why, when he later forcibly overwrites Fierceteeth’s existence to recreate her (which is another horrific thing), he tries to excise the parts he finds undesirable to create a perfect version of his lover. But this caricature he has created in his head is not and can never be Clearsight, which frustrates his attempts.

He is vengeful. Not against people who have actually wronged him, like Queen Diamond. That would be questionable, but understandable. What makes this unacceptable is his frequent targeting of innocent people who just happen to be related to the person who wronged him in some esoteric way. He enchants a secret murder knife that kills random Icewings regardless of who they are or what they think about the Queen, just because the one who took his mother from him happened to share their tribe. He hates Turtle and wishes death upon him in Moon Rising just because he is a green Seawing, like Fathom was. And then there is the big one: He tries to kill all the Icewings who are alive in the present day, where Queen Diamond is long dead and none of them have ever even met her. Even his mother, who suffered from Diamond’s actions the most and has the most reason to hate her, is horrified and calls him out on that one.

And lastly, he is sadistic. He revels in torturing those he hates. He forces his father to disembowel himself, while the latter is fully aware and powerless to resist AND the man’s traumatized daughter is watching. Later he sends a magical plague to kill every single living Icewing sans one.

It should be noted that Darkstalker possesses virtually infinite magical power; whatever he declares, with very few exceptions, will happen. Even if he wanted them dead, he had the power to prevent unnecessary suffering. He could have said “Arctic, fall dead instantaneously”, or “Every Icewing will fall asleep and pass away peacefully,” but he didn’t. He wanted them to feel pain and pass away in the most wretched, agonizing ways he could imagine.

So what he chose to do instead is—and I want you to picture this for a moment—Darkstalker sat down, calmly, and said “Henceforth every living Icewing, excepting Prince Winter and those of hybrid blood, will fall ill with an incurable disease. This disease will cause heavy internal bleeding and make its victims cough up blood and waste away for a few days, followed by certain death.”

This spell does not discriminate with regards to who its victims are. The book glosses over the implications, but imagine the ramifications. Young children are notoriously frail, how many newborns got infected and died because of this? How many families were torn apart because they couldn’t get the magic earrings fast enough? Or accidentally got one earring less than there were family members and had to decide who has to die?

Most of the Icewings were physically cured by the earrings, but an experience like that sticks with you for the rest of your life. Somewhere surely, a dragonet watched as his mother put the earring on him and then slowly wasted away because she didn’t have one for herself.

It’s really easy to overlook how horrific this spell is because it isn’t shown or dwelt on. But the trauma, grief, and suffering it caused must have been immeasurable.

And none of those victims have ever even met the person Darkstalker wanted to get revenge on. None of those deaths meant anything to anyone.

The attempted death toll and scale of the calamity here puts even Scarlet to shame. The ones who come closest to it were Queen Battlewinner and Morrowseer with their attempted Rainwing extermination. All three of those died for what they did. Gives you some food for thought for sure.

Peacemaker’s burden

Despite just airing all of his dirty laundry and declaring him an irredeemable villain, I actually do have a lot of sympathy for Darkstalker still. His story is really sad. He was a child born with an amount of power that nobody should possess, and it corrupted him to the point where it destroyed his life before it began. His parents were always fighting and no matter how good his intentions were, he was unable to understand why he couldn’t hold on to his friends and relationship. He kept making mistakes, then made bigger mistakes to fix those, until his hands were covered in blood and he couldn’t stop anymore. My belief is that, after he wakes up in the present and realizes Clearsight is dead, he loses his reason for living and becomes completely lost in his grief.

Therefore, my opinion is that it would have been appropriate for him to die. If not to punish him, then to finally grant him reprieve from all that rage and pain, and let him rest. I think that would have been a dignified end.

But instead he got turned into a baby. ... And then they decided to magically erase his father’s blood from him? I don’t know what it is, but something about that Icewing erasure makes my skin crawl?

The thing that turns this baby twist from weird into highly unsettling is the context. Darkstalker’s mind is erased, then modified into a new person via animus magic. This is the technique a lot of this arc’s villains used to victimize Hailstorm, Queen Ruby, Peril, Kinkajou, Fierceteeth, and Winter. The same technique is now used again, by the heroes, which is a dangerous thing to have your protagonists do if you want them to remain morally upright.

It is also very reckless, because in almost all of these instances, animus mind alteration has been shown to be very unreliable. The spells seem to wear down over time and are susceptible to partial breaking upon encountering certain strong stimuli. Hailstorm—while trapped as Pyrite—seems to retain trace amounts of his former memories, which is why Pyrite is subconsciously drawn to Winter and clings to him all the time. Ruby is able to ignore half of her conditioning because her familial love for her son partially overpowers the magic. Qibli is just straight up able to reason his way out of it.

The thing to note here is that spells of this nature require a very meticulous approach; you can’t half-ass your reprogramming or the victim will just think their way past it. If you alter someone’s mind, the wording of the spell must be ironclad, lest you risk it wearing down over time and even break.

Luckily we have nothing to fear in that regard, because the spell that created Peacemaker was written by a Rainwing with a total of four days of literacy training. No one better mention the name Clearsight to the new baby Nightwing, or next month is going to be rather interesting.

But that’s just speculation on my part. Let’s assume that, somehow, this spell isn’t as unstable as all the others. Somehow Kinkajou threaded all the needles, and masterfully dodged every conceivable pitfall to pen the perfect incantation, despite having been illiterate just a few weeks prior. This one is built to last and Darkstalker is sealed away really thoroughly, for good.

That is still absolutely terrible and morally dubious, because now you have Peacemaker, who for all intents and purposes is a COMPLETELY innocent little kid, saddled with this huge burden of being the certifiable reincarnation of a genocidal ancient wizard. He’s gonna grow up thinking things like “Mommy gets real quiet whenever the topic of the Icewing tragedy is brought up,” and “Why does Auntie Moon look at me like that? One time she accidentally called me a weird name, who is Darkstalker?” “What is this ‘Clearsight’ name my mind-reading friends from the village found in Mommy’s mind?”

In a village that will be full of mind-readers soon, eventually the secret will come out, and Peacemaker is going to learn what was done to him. A huge, messy load of undeserved baggage was forced onto this completely separate, innocent entity. He will be devastated. Whether he then chooses to forgive them for this remains to be seen. To be honest, he would be well within his right not to, and turn resentful.

Poor kid.

Qibli’s callousness

I love Qibli, he is one of my favorite characters. This happens to be his book, and the fact that I fundamentally dislike half of it makes me rather sad. If anything, I hope this tells you that I’m not just hating on it for my personal amusement. I really wanted to like this. I tried to, and I couldn’t.

Qibli is really weird in this one, to be honest. He is suddenly made to be co-dependent on Moonwatcher, fawning over her every third paragraph, saying how much he loves her, how he is an incomplete and dysfunctional wreck without her, how it physically pains him to be apart from her, oh if only the stars would grant his wish and split the mountains apart so that he may fly to his princess, his muse, his goddess of ebony wit. It gets so old.

And it’s not Qibli. He never acted this clingy towards Moonwatcher. It’s more intense than even Winter gets about Moon, and Winter was actually depicted with a crush on her in book 6. Qibli was always just a supportive element, eager to befriend Moon but never desperate, like he is going to keel over if he is separated from his true love five minutes longer. These very frequent love declarations feel so forced coming out of him. It strikes me like it was just written in service of the love triangle. Maybe if we make him confess his love every four seconds readers will overlook the fact that they had no proper romantic build-up.

You might rightly accuse me of bias. I have previously admitted I am fond of Qibli/Winter as a romantic pairing, on the surface this seems like I am just not happy with my pet ship being blocked by Moonwatcher. But I assure you, I am actually pretty flexible and accommodating even towards pairings that contradict my preferences. I have no issues with Winter/Moonwatcher, for example, because the possibility was properly established and they have good romantic chemistry in Winter Turning. In theory, I would have no problem with Qibli/Moonwatcher either if it was ever set up as an interesting romantic dynamic. But to me, it seems like Qibli is written as a good, supportive friend to Moon for four books, only to pivot hard into “Moon moon moon moon moon moon swoon” at the last second, and it just reads to me as obnoxious.

I got distracted. This section is called “Qibli’s callousness”, and I haven’t even talked about the main part.

Qibli and Winter have excellent chemstry together, whether you read it as romantic or platonic—both of these interpretations have merit and are set up. They’re always the highlight of any scene they’re in. Throughout the story arc you get the impression that these two really get on each other’s nerves, but they bond and grow into really strong friends who bicker a lot but have each other’s backs when it counts.

Then there is a scene where Qibli casually tells Winter that he wouldn’t object if someone wanted to mind-control away some of Winter’s more objectionable traits.

This is genuinely a terrible thing to say to your friend. Like, it crosses a line and ceases to be harmless banter; you’re just telling them that there is something you hate about them so much that you wish they were someone else. Winter actually WAS mind-controlled earlier and felt (and proably still feels) guilty about having attacked Qibli in that state. And now Qibli says “Hey, I wouldn’t mind if someone did that to you again! Hue hue!”

It is awful, BUT I don’t necessarily object to Qibli saying this here. Qibli is in the middle of his character arc at this moment, so he is expected to be flawed. He is making a mistake by thoughtlessly telling Winter this horrid thing, and it seems like a believable continuation of his current character track. This is a reasonable development as long as the plot acknowledges that it’s a mistake.

Spoilers: The plot doesn’t acknowledge that it’s a mistake. Qibli never has a scene after where he reflects upon what he said and apologizes to Winter. When Darkstalker has Qibli trapped in his mountain jail and mind-wipes Qibli’s grandfather into a toddler (hey, wait a minute), Qibli gets visibly disturbed. Like, this is so off-putting to him that he gets queasy and Darkstalker hastily changes the spell. That could have been a great way to bring this back. Like in the epilogue, have Qibli track down Winter and tell him about disturbing baby grandpa theater and how he realized that wiping people’s minds is actually messed up and should have never said that to him.

But he doesn’t. He just lets Winter go, allowing him to believe he is broken and needs magical intervention to be tolerable. It leaves me to think that maybe he’s still okay with it, and fantasizing about rewriting his friend’s mind. Great.

Moonwatcher’s character death

You will find as this goes on that, I get the impression that the second half of this book takes all of the wonderful, endearing characters I have learned to love throughout the story and replaces them with really mean, or stupid, or otherwise inaccurate caricatures.

Moonwatcher’s relationship with Darkstalker gets plenty of setup and development in Moon Rising. You get the sense that these two could be great friends if their circumstances were a little different. It does a great job at making you think maybe Darkstalker is just misunderstood; maybe Moon should free him from his predicament.

Then at the end of Escaping Peril comes the emotional gut punch. Darkstalker actually IS a villain. He callously admits to Moonwatcher that he used his magic to make his own father gruesomely disembowel himself. Moonwatcher is horrified and disgusted that he would do that. There is no circumstance in which something like that would ever be okay. She ends the scene awash in tears because the person she thought was her friend is a murderer and a sadist. This is good, that is a natural reaction to what she was just told.

A few hours from there, in Talons of Power, Turtle finds Moon again and she is completely cool with Darkstalker walking free, despite crying her eyes out after feeling so betrayed earlier. That may seem strange, but this is still good because later, Darkstalker’s mind control plot is discovered. This scene was obviously written to set that up, Moon is mind-controlled into forgetting that Darkstalker could do something that morally reprehensible, and thus forgives him. This is also completely in line with his characterization in Legends: Darkstalker. It’s a kind of stunt he would pull to get Clearsight to shut up about him slipping into villainy.

In my earlier post I alluded to a moment where Moon is set to narrative auto-pilot and says something so rampantly off-kilter that it does irreversible, permanent damage to her character. It happens here, in the second half of book 10. Qibli gives Moon the Darkstalker protection earring, and Moon, somehow, says “I’m not being mind-controlled, Darkstalker really is my friend.”

I get what the plot tries to do here. It’s taking this concept of mind-control and adding a nuance, in an attempt to flesh out Darkstalker and give his character depth. He is ready to control everyone in the world, but for Moon, who is his best friend in this era, he wants her to remain herself. Perhaps this is his attempt at attonement for playing with Clearsight’s mind and driving her away from him. It is very touching in a way, viewed in isolation.

Unfortunately, it does not work with the full context of all the books. Because Moon is in auto-pilot mode right now, her main character trait is “Darkstalker=Friend,” so naturally she would speak in support of him. But this revelation has devastating retroactive consequences. The earlier scene that was written with Moon under mind-control is now altered into her having been in her right mind! She is completely okay with Darkstalker’s admittance to cold-blooded torture and evisceration, within hours of being so shocked by it that it made her cry and ready to denounce him. That is such a quick turnaround it’s giving me whiplash. And what’s more it turns Moon from a principled, upstanding girl into a sociopath who casually accepts gruesome torture and murder if it is committed by someone she likes.

Did Sutherland forget about the scene two books ago, where Darkstalker’s actions were so inconceivably horrid for Moon to learn of that she started crying? It baffles me that this made it into the final version. Her saying she was never mind-controlled makes Moon come off as so awful. This torture-excusing lunatic is not the same kind-hearted and insightful character I followed in all the other books.

Kinkajou’s character derailment

The world is a sad place when I have to question the way Kinjajou is written. Fortunately she is mostly fine, despite her having the biggest excuse to act out-of-character since she’s the victim of a mind-altering spell. Her only real moment of “what!?” comes at the end.

I already talked about her role in casting the spell that regresses Darkstalker into an infant. But I didn’t mention how her being the source of it is questionable in itself.

The clue is in the first paragraph of this section: She herself has experienced the effects of invasive mind-alteration. She was cursed by Anemone in the previous book to be in love with Turtle, and kind of half-struggles kind of not with it, it’s really strange. Turtle is appropriately horrified and acts like really awful things are happening, but then it’s mostly played lightly for some reason. My assumption is that Sutherland introduced this plot point, but then realized how uncomfortable this premise really is and tried to downplay it until the story got to a point where it could get done away with.

But I think the takeaway is still supposed to be that this was a horrid thing to do (which it absolutely is), and that Kinkajou will have to spend a lot of time trying to untangle her real emotions from the fake ones the spell created.

The point is: Kinkajou knows first-hand how awful it is to do something like that to another person. Ideally she should never even conceive of the idea to cast a spell like that, but if we’re really set on this Darkstalker baby thing and it has to happen, she should at least be a bit hesitant about it. And afterwards she should struggle with the guilt of having resorted to it. Not celebrate it and be proud, like it’s funny.

The assassination of Winter’s future

Now we come to the part I’ve alluded to previously; the part where all of these threads converge to utterly destroy one character and drive him to the brink of ruin. Let’s talk about Winter.

Prince Winter is the son of Tundra and Prince Narwhal, hatching in the same clutch as his sister Icicle. He spent his formative years being unfavorably compared to said sister—who easily took to traits that Icewing royalty considers desirable—whereas Winter struggled greatly to embody those same ideals. He was just a little too kind, too merciful, too gentle. As a result he often had to endure abuse from his parents, who made him feel like he was defective.

Because he was young and didn’t have any other frame of reference, he embraced this abusive narrative and began to drive himself with a vigor unreasonable for someone of his age. He scraped and cloyed for every bit of credit he could get, obsessing over advancing up the circle rankings in an attempt to “purge” the wrongness out of himself. To make his parents as proud of him as they were of Icicle.

This never worked. He was always seen as the runt, poised to embarrass the family name. Whatever he did, no matter how hard he strived, there was always something he could have done better.

The only real source of love and affirmation in his life was his older brother, Hailstorm. Where everyone else only saw what Winter wasn’t, Hailstorm embraced his brother despite of his “failings” and was openly affectionate with him. When Winter was with him, it was okay to not think about rankings all the time, and just be himself for a bit. I assume Hailstorm fulfilled a similar role for Icicle as well, which is why both of them love him dearly, and Icicle destroys her own life to bring him back.

Winter also has a fascination with scavengers, possibly because they are small and perceived as useless, like he himself is. He likely feels a kinship with them and observes them being craftier and more adept than everyone else sees them. This is therapeutic for him, to see that a thing can have merit even if no one wants to see it.

One day, he and Hailstorm sneak into Skywing territory so Winter can catch a scavenger as a pet. This excursion turns hostile when they are discovered by a roaming Skywing troop and faced with the prospect of capture, possibly execution. In a gambit to save Winter from this fate, Hailstorm mirrors the words of his parents, calling Winter pathetic and useless, so the Skywings will not think of him as a threat and show mercy. His act succeeds in convincing the Skywings, but it also convinces Winter, who does not understand Hailstorm only said these things to save his life. He returns home—believing his brother hated him all along—to face the wrath of his furious family for losing them “the desirable son”.

For all of his life, these themes have repeated themselves and haunted him. “I was born wrong and defective,” “I am unlovable,” “No one wants me.”

A few months after the war ends, Winter is one of the five Icewings enrolled in the newly founded Jade Mountain Academy. Shortly after departing, he unexpectedly returns home, having successfully rescued his older brother and bringing him back. He is made to believe that this erases his mistakes, his mother even pays him a backhanded compliment, an uncharacteristically “nice” gesture. He is promoted to the top of the rankings, finally his parents are proud of him.

But of course it is all a trick. The “adoration” afforded to him was all a ploy. Secretly, his parents abused power and tradition to arrange for Winter’s death. They force him into a lethal trial they intentionally rigged against him, all to finally erase that stain on their family’s honor.

Winter finally realizes the true nature of his parents’ opinion of him. Even when he succeeds, and does everything right, he is still defective, unlovable, and unwanted. He will never be anything else to his family. And so he leaves his homeland, pretending he is dead, resigned to live in hiding forever.

During this time, while at the brink of despair, Winter is able to draw strength from one source: His new friends from the academy. He vocalizes that, for all the abuse he suffered at the hands of his birth family, he fervently believes that THEY would never do anything like that to him. They chose to stuck with him, even when he was awful, and told him he was not hopeless. He was not a mistake; he could be deserving of love.

So naturally, he returns to them; they accept him readily, are willing to be his new surrogate family. When he almost burns to death at a later point, they fear and weep for him. When Qibli sets out to confront his own abusive family, Winter, despite being mind-controlled into a placid potato at the time, feels concerned enough for his friend’s safety to insist to come along (returning the favor of them accompanying him in his time of need in book 7). When Darkstalker’s mind control forces Winter to attack Qibli, he is shown ashamed and guilty of it once the control wears off again.

They bicker and struggle, and make mistakes, they break up but always come back together again. Time and time again the one thing that is always reinforced: When the cards are down, Winter loves his friends, and they love him. They would never intentionally hurt each other, or give up on each other.

I want you to keep in mind how wholesome, and loving, and mutually supportive this ramshackle band of misfits has been portrayed to this point... Because we’re moving on to the arc 2 finale, and it will do everything it can to corrupt all of it and consign Winter to a life of misery.

We arrive at aforementioned scene, where Moonwatcher receives her earring. Just a little bit prior, Winter had learned that Darkstalker unleashed a magical plague onto his people in an attempt to wipe them out. Now here is Moonwatcher, revealing that she is not under any spell, and has aligned herself with this guy willingly, speaking fondly of him as if he was a dear friend who never did any wrong. Winter takes this badly and accidentally breaks a vase; the narrative lingers on this moment and really tries to sell us on how unreasonable Winter’s reaction is, how he is overreacting, but let’s examine that interpretation for a moment.

Moonwatcher doesn’t yet know about the attempted Icewing genocide, but she DOES know about Darkstalker being okay with casting spells to inflict immeasurable torture upon those he hates. WE know that she knows this, so her stance here is already suspect. Yet she goes on to praise Darkstalker and refer to him as a friend. Look at this from Winter’s perspective. This “friend” of Moonwatcher just tried to kill his entire tribe, and he actually succeeded in killing his aunt, Queen Glacier, a person Winter greatly respects. Winter is currently unable to return to his homeland for fear of being branded a traitor. Even if he could return, he knows his obstinate and spiteful family would prevent him from attending the funeral, meaning he is not even afforded the basic dignity of saying farewell to his aunt. The aunt whom Darkstalker murdered by making her vomit her own blood until she withered away in her bed. And here is Moon, absolving the person who did this to Glacier from his appalling actions, despite knowing full well what Darkstalker is capable of and choosing to look away.

I don’t know about you, but I think I can forgive the grieving, emotionally overwhelmed boy for shattering a little pottery after hearing his trusted friend—who held his hand when he was dying—say that the guy who makes people disembowel themselves and wipes out entire countries may be misunderstood and not so bad. I think I would have a similar reaction. In fact, I would never want to talk to her ever again.

There is no way I can read this scene in which Moon doesn’t come off as either an absolute lunatic, or critically stupid and callous. In fact, based on her earlier behavior I half-expect her to get over the news of the attempted Icewing massacre in a couple hours, saying “Eh, it’s kinda bad, but you just have to do these kinds of things sometimes, you know? I’m sure he had his reasons.”

Then there is the part where Qibli makes his off-color comment about how Winter’s brain could really use a good wash. I already went into how it could have worked but didn’t. But with the timing here, we’ve already had Moon spit on their friendship, so as Winter’s other closest friend, it naturally follows that Qibli also craps on his feelings.

Consider the context: Winter comes from an abusive household where his parents forcibly tried to change him away from who he was to purge the “wrongness” from him. When they betray him and he narrowly escapes their attempt on his life, he re-affirms his belief in his friends, and the knowledge that they wouldn’t treat him like that gives him the strength he needs to keep going. But now, Qibli asserts that Winter DOES need to be altered, thereby AGREEING with Winter’s abusive parents, rendering Winter’s affirmation from book 7 erroneous. Qibli WOULD treat him like that if it made Winter less “intolerable”.

Neither Moonwatcher nor Qibli ever make an attempt to repair this rift. Winter is left betrayed and alone.

Stuff happens, and the forces of the Nightwings and Icewings come to blows over Jade Mountain. With his two closest friends having written him off and his support network eroded, Winter relapses into thinking he is worthless, seeks validation in unquestioning patriotism, and realigns himself with his abusive family by throwing himself into the battle. Nobody wants him to, in fact his parents still hate him for it, but whatever. His father dies and his mother blames him for it.

Meanwhile Turtle, Anemone, and Qibli are cooking up a solution to the battle problem. They have the idea to make everyone’s minds connect in a huge empathy wave for a few moments, which I think is a pretty interesting idea for what it’s worth. But then they teleport both armies back to their homes, and the spell sweeps Winter up with them, taking him out of the rest of the finale and bringing him to the Ice Kingdom. The characters say “whoops” but aren’t further concerned with the situation. It’s all a big laugh.

Let me remind you that Winter is currently considered not welcome on Icewing territory. His family, whom he was sent back with, is extremely abusive and vindictive. His friends know this. Said parents have previously arranged for him to be killed, and are still on record as wanting him dead. His friends KNOW this. And now he is alone with them and a gaggle of other royal Icewings who all are extremely pissed off at him for ruining their sacred trial site.

It is very possible that he is being torn apart and mauled by an enraged mob right now. He could be forced into captivity and flayed. Maybe the interim regent is sentencing him to death and getting the rope ready. There is a million different horrible things that could be happening to Winter right now, while he is trapped alone with people who hate him, things his friends would be reasonably able to anticipate. And nobody is doing anything to get him out of there, to suggest bringing him back, even though it would only take a single spoken sentence to do so! They aren’t even concerned!

Then the climax happens, strawberry thing and all, and we get the coup de grâce. After all is said and done, the group decides that Winter is untrustworthy, and that they must protect the secret of Darkstalker’s fate from him, because they fear if he knew he would kill Peacemaker.

Moon, who read Winter’s mind in book 6 and reached out to him about how the “ruthless Icewing warrior” persona in his head is a facade and how she sees he has a gentle and good heart... Moon, who in book 7 finds out about Winter’s secret deal to kill Glory and STILL trusts him, who calls out his bullshit to his face because she KNOWS how kind-hearted Winter is and that he would never resort to murder... Moon who, again, held his hand while he was dying... thinks that the dragon she has reminded of his compassionate nature time and time again would kill an innocent child.

This is disgusting. Moon believing that is so far off the mark with regards to anything this group has embodied or done for any of the last 4 books, that my only conclusion can be that these are different characters. Maybe the Nightwing library collapsed on top of original Moon, and when Darkstalker magiced her back to health she came back wrong or something. I don’t know.

So after all of this, Winter is left alone. He somehow escaped from the Ice Kingdom; luckily there is a timeskip so we can just gloss over the horrible situation he was put in by his friends. He thinks about Jade Mountain. He reflects on everything that happened, how his parents never really loved him... How they hated him so much they tried to kill him... How he despaired, but found solace in his friends who loved him for who he was.... How those friends then betrayed him too and magiced him away... How they didn’t care about what happened to him... And he decides he is done. He won’t bother going back. A few people, probably Sunny, reach out to tell him he is welcome back, but he says “it wouldn’t be fair to other Icewings if an exile took up a bed”. The decision isn’t hard to make, after all there is nothing left for him there. Everyone has written him off, moved on and left him behind.

Kinkajou visits sometimes, tries to stay in touch, but that’s just how she is. Maybe the others sent her to check on whether he’s going to become troublesome. They don’t trust him. Better to keep an eye on him, he might kill the baby.

With nowhere else to go, Winter moves to Sanctuary, a place for rejects like him. I picture him standing there, at the edge of a cliff staring blankly into the distance. He is completely alone; no one wants to go near him or talk to him beyond the bare necessities. He could probably make new friends with the Talons of Peace if he tried, but there is no point. Why should someone like him have friends? It wouldn’t work. They’d just decide he is too inconvenient to be around. Sooner or later they would just tell him to leave anyway. It's better not to try, so he doesn't get hurt again.

And slowly it dawns on him. His parents had been right all along. It was never them, or the others, it was him. He is the problem. The Icewings said it, Qibli said it, Moonwatcher said it. There is just something fundamentally wrong with him.

He is defective. He is unlovable. Nobody wants him. He will never be anything, or have anyone. And so he stands at the cliff, looking over the broken vase fragments of his life... This is who he is. Prince Winter. A mistake.

And quietly, where no one knows or cares, he does the only thing he has left to do... he begins to weep.

As it is written, the tale of Winter is the story of a boy who is told he is wrong for being alive. He closes his ears and tries to keep walking forward, desperate to prove that he is not an error, that he has merit. But this book comes out and it unmistakably says that he doesn’t. He is nothing, and he deserves to have nothing.

And I just cannot accept that.

Why did this have to happen?

I think that the author was really struggling with the ending of this book. I’ve said before how much of a corner she wrote herself into with such an invincible villain. I think she came up with the strawberry idea as a solution to this problem. But as she was writing it, the characters kept fighting her. It was not a natural solution, not a decision the characters—as they were established—would ever make.

So concessions had to be made to force the issue. Established traits had to be bent slightly to make this plot work. The farther she went, the worse it got. The concessions piled up and turned into contrivances. Eventually the characters were no longer acting like themselves. Their bonds got stretched too far and some snapped. It’s a very tragic pitfall that occurs with long-running series.

I think Sutherland must have also been tired. Writing an entire book is a monumental task, and writing 6 connected ones even moreso. She also comes out with these things really quickly. Maybe she was burnt out? Maybe she wanted to be done and her attention lapsed. Maybe that’s why she forgot that Moon knew about the disemboweling. It seems reasonable to believe when you consider that the next story arc would make a relatively clean break from the problems of this arc, especially with regards to the magic system.

But I don’t know what ultimately happened, so I can only speculate. I reiterate, I bear no ill will against Sutherland for writing this. Even if I kind of hate everything about this finale, and very vocally wish it would be different, I don’t want this examination to generate (or reawaken) any hatred towards her, or to attack her personally. I understand the pain of an artist who gets trapped with something for too long and has to find the means, any means, to see it through to the end. I criticize the story, but I could never hate anyone for that.

But for me, I do not consider this half of the book as part of the story. The characters act too unnaturally for it to have happened. So to me, it didn’t. We don’t know what happened, maybe Darkstalker is still out there. Maybe they dealt with him. Maybe what actually happened is my crappy and self-indulgent rewrite of the ending which I will never show to anyone because it would be really embarrassing.

But whatever actually ended up happening, I am sure Winter never ended up at that cliff, pondering how worthless and meaningless his life was. He is currently at Jade Mountain, surrounded by friends who love him, and bickering with Qibli about the correct solution to their advanced calculus assignment that is due tomorrow.

Is there anything left to say?

Probably.

I didn’t talk about Anemone yet. You know, in the epilogue she enchants herself a bracelet that makes her “not be so mean all the time”. I find that creepy. To me it reads as Anemone voluntarily brainwashing herself with magic to erase her negative traits instead of growing past them naturally because she finds them undesirable and wants to work to change for the better. I would ordinarily assume that this is an overreaction on my part, and I’m just reading the scene wrong. But no, we just got through a part where the heroes brainwashing someone is treated as an unequivocal good and worthy of celebration, so I think my reading may actually be spot on. Why are we letting the little kid alter her own brain without supervision? Hello? Tsunami? Someone intervene maybe? This cannot be healthy.

Turtle stands out to me as the one bright spot in all of this. He (and Peril, but she’s mostly out of focus) remain as the only main characters of this arc who don’t have any mind-boggling out-of-character moments or sudden streaks of uncharacteristic callousness. I really like the part where Qibli goes to free Turtle from his captivity and plans to give him an earful about the comically unhelpful messages he’s been sending him. But when Turtle asks if what he did was helpful, Qibli sees how beaten down and exhausted Turtle is, and wordlessly drops his frustration to tell him “Yeah, they were helpful.” That is the true Qibli shining through for a moment, showing that he cares about the well-being of his friends.

Do I hate the pairing of Qibli/Moonwatcher? No. Well, I DO hate how it happened in the book, and how the story tried to assassinate Winter’s character to resolve the love triangle and make it happen. I don’t hate it on principle though. If you are a fan of Qibli/Moonwatcher and want to write fanfics about it, please do! I absolutely encourage you to do that! Maybe you can fix this mess and turn it into something that’s actually properly handled!

Mightyclaws keeps the power that Darkstalker granted him past the finale. That means all the spells that Darkstalker cast are technically still active. Does that mean the Icewings have to wear earrings for the rest of their lives? Do they get sick again if they take them off? Is Peril forever cursed to think of Darkstalker as a cool old uncle and has to somehow reconcile how everyone else thinks of him? How did the Nightwings relinquishing their powers work, do they have to wear the earrings forever too now?

And there is one more thing to mention.

My confession

You may have already intuited this, if you’ve been following the content of my blog. It is very heavily skewed towards the first and second arcs of the series. I would now like to confess something.

When I read the second half of book 10, I found it so disillusioning, Winter’s fate so upsetting... that I put down the series then and there. And I haven’t picked it back up since.

That’s right, I have not read arc 3. I don’t know if that makes me a fake fan. I know pretty much everything that happens in it, the controversial twist at the end, Pyrrhia coming back into the story later, Snowfall getting brainwashed by a piece of jewelry until she cares about a plot that had nothing to do with her or the fate of the Icewings, etc..

It’s not out of malice, or because it’s a new continent. The opposite in fact; I would have greatly prefered a clean break with a new setting—Bug-themed dragons in a slightly more contemporary, developed environment sounds fascinating and full of potential. I don’t hate Pantala or the new characters.

I just... I can’t really do this again. I can’t handle the thought of Pyrrhia coming back post-Darkstalker, with Winter showing up and talking to these guys again like nothing happened, seeming like a different person, joking around with them like his entire character wasn’t dragged through a mountain of manure to make the plot bend a certain way. I think as long as this is the ending that the story is continuing from, seeing that would just make me miserable.

Maybe I will just stay in the parts of the story that I fell in love with. And imagine a version of reality in which Pantala is allowed to exist on its own, where Swordtail was the fourth POV character of arc 3, where Queen Wasp stayed the villain throughout, and Snowfall got her own legends book about how she reformed Icewing society and fixed all the shit that poisoned Winter’s life, so future generations don’t have to suffer through the same stuff he did.

~~~~~

If you’re still with me, thank you for reading this far. I think this is everything I ever thought about the finale of the second story arc, so now I never have to talk about it again. Writing this was difficult. I found it crushing at times. This will probably stand as the only overtly negative post I have ever made on this blog. I love Wings of Fire, and I want to celebrate it. To add to it, not tear it down.

I hope this wasn’t too boring, or painful, or frustrating, or soul-crushing to read through. I’ll see you later, hopefully with a more constructive post.

[minniesmutt]

single dad chan x single reader, #13? pls c:

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: BANG CHAN X READER ☾ ━━━ PROMPT: 13 "are you implying that you want to kiss me?" ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: SINGLE DAD!CHAN, SINGLE!READER, GIRL DAD!CHAN, FINGERING, UNPROTECTED SEX, COUCH SEX, THEY JUST HORNY, CUM SHOT ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.2K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Chan never knew if he was going to date again after his last relationship. Especially with a kid. But he knew he had to try when he met Y/n. She had just moved into his building and he’d run into her when grabbing a package. And his daughter, ever the extrovert, decided she needed a new friend.

     Which turned into his daughter asking Y/n to help her braid her hair for a sleepover with her cousins and uncle— something her Uncle Felix and her had planned when his daughter blabbed “Daddy thinks our new neighbor is pretty” to the younger Aussie. 

     So now Y/n was sitting on the couch with Chan watching over her shoulder, trying to learn how the hell to do a Dutch braid. “Do you have a boyfriend?” 

     “Nali Bang,” Chan replied to his daughter’s question while Y/n laughed with the little girl

     “No. I don’t have a boyfriend,” Y/n smiled, finishing the braid and tying it

     “You and Daddy should go on a date,” Nali said and both adults looked at each other, blushing a little as the doorbell rang. “Uncle Felix!”

     Nali ran to the door and her dad followed while Y/n cleaned up the hair supplies. She heard a little conversation as she packed her things before she heard Nali telling bye to her. Y/n responded as the door closed. 

     “Thank you for helping with her hair. And I’m sorry about that,” Chan said sheepishly 

     “You’re welcome and don’t worry about it. She’s five, kids say stuff,” Y/n laughed 

     “Yeah,” Chan sighed

     “But I’m free the rest of the night.”

     “Are you asking me on a date?” Chan smiled 

     “No. Just stating I have free time.”

     The two looked at each other and then laughed. “Well, I'm free too. Wanna go out with me?” Chan said

     That’s how it went for almost four months. Nali would spend time with her cousins when they were free or with her mom and Y/n and Chan would go on a date. They hadn’t told the little girl yet since nothing was serious yet.

     “Does Nali’s mom know you're seeing me?” Y/n asked as they were walking back to the building from their dinner and movie

     “She does. Nali I guess talked her ear off about you after we first met so she asked about you. At the time we were just neighbors but after our second date, I told her that we were seeing each other. Why?”

     “Just thinking. I don’t want her to be blindsided and think I'm trying to replace her…”

     “I’ve made her aware but I can always ask if you guys want to meet and talk,” Chan offered as they turned into their building and made their way to Chan’s unit 

      “You think we’re that serious? For me to meet her mom and be another mom for Nali?”

      “Yeah. Nali’s mom and I agreed a long time ago we work better as friends so nothing was left of the relationship. She’s seen other people and I’ve met them before Nali has. Just didn’t work that way for us but she’s been supportive of us so far.”

     “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you really like me.” Y/n giggled 

     “I do, a lot,” Chan admitted 

     The two laughed as they got to Chan’s floor. He took out his keys and opened the door. He let her in first and the two kicked off their shoes and hung up their things. 

     Y/n walked to his living room with him following before veering to the kitchen. Chan came back with a couple of wine glasses and a bottle as Y/n turned his TV on, a little tradition now for them.

      Chan set the items on the table and wrapped his arms around her before she could sit. Y/n smiled and rested her arms around his shoulders

     “Stay over tonight?” Chan offered, “Or the weekend.”

     “Lonely without someone else here.”

     “Yeah. Especially you.”

     "Are you implying that you want to kiss me?" 

      “I hope I’m implying a lot more than just kissing you.”

     Y/n smiled and pulled him closer. Chan met her halfway and pressed his lips to hers. Y/n melted into his lips as he held her as close as he could. Their lips moved in sync before Chan maneuvered them onto the couch. Pressing her down to the seats and hands moving down to her hips. Pressing them together as his tongue poked at the seal of their lips. 

     Y/n tangled her fingers in his hair as his tongue found its way into her mouth and tangled with hers. Y/n moaned and wrapped her legs around his hips. Chan smiled into their kiss, moving his hands to the back of her thighs. He pulled away from her lips after a few more moments.

     “I like you like this,” Chan smiled

     “Like what?” Y/n asked

     “Under me.”

     “Stop flirting and fuck me.”

     Chan laughed and sat up, tossing off his shirt as she did the same. The two stripping themselves before both of them were on each other again. Chan pushed two fingers into her as their lips reconnected. Catching the moan that left her throat and swallowing the sound as he stretched her out with his fingers.

     “Chan,” Y/n moaned as he moved down to kiss her neck.

     Chan hummed in response, lips leaving kisses along her neck. Listening to her beg and plead with him to fuck her. Chan smiled at her eagerness and continued working her open just a bit longer before her begging finally got to him and he couldn’t hold back anymore. “Fuck,” Chan groaned as he pulled his finger out of her. He pulled away from her neck and looked down between their legs; guiding himself into her. Y/n moaned as he slid into her, holding onto him as he split her open.

     “Fuck,” Y/n moaned as he slowly started thrusting in and out of her, rubbing her clit with his thumb

     “Feel good baby?” Chan asked, “Doing so good for me.”

     “Deeper, please Channie,” Y/n moaned

     “Soon baby, promise.” Chan said

     Y/n moaned. Slowly Chan worked himself deeper into her. Her legs wrapping around his waist tighter as his pace increased. Chan sat up a bit and supported himself by holding onto the armrest behind her. Y/n tried biting back her moans as their hips met, trying not to be to loud and Chan didn’t get a noise complaint later. Even though Chan didn’t care and was high on hearing her moans. 

     Her walls clenching around him made him feel like he was on cloud nine. Rubbing her clit as his hips rolled into hers. “Close Channie.”

     “Yeah? Gonna make a mess for me?”

     Y/n could only nodded, her orgasm was closer than she thought. A few more thrusts later and her back was arching off the sofa as her jaw dropped. Chan fucked her through it. Making sure she was finished before he pulled out and jerked himself to the finish line. His cum landing on her stomach.

     Silence took over the two, just their breathing and the TV playing in the back. Chan kissed her forehead before getting up and grabbing a towel from his bathroom, cleaning her up before sitting her up and pulling her onto his lap. Y/n smiled as she rested his head against his chest. “Be my girlfriend?” Chan asked as he held her clothes

      “I’d love too.” Y/n replied

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[ramonathinks]

who’s your god? — geto suguru (oneshot; no part two)

summary: suguru geto is the reincarnation of a powerful god or so he claims, using his abilities to prey on as many weak minded housewives as he can.

warnings: (18+, minors/ageless/blank blogs will be blocked) mention of church/religion, sex, adultery, cult like themes, sacrilege(?), begging, pet names (good girl, slut), corruption, finger sucking, public sex, people are watching, geto refers to himself as god, spanking, manipulation, race isn’t mentioned but i envision all my y/n’s as black so yeah. yes, repostttt

A-are you sure?” You swallow and gulp, staring at the man in front of you. His dark hooded eyes staring back at you.

“I have no reason to lie to you.” He says in a hushed tone as your husband walks up the stairs. With every painful creek of the staircase you can’t help but to wince. “Your purity… is in danger, has been for a long time… many of those in higher powers have spoke to me, they do want to help you to remain pure… to be in a good standing of course. That’s why I’m here.”

“Is there anything I can do?” With pleading eyes and shaky hands you scoot closer to him. You children deserved a pure mother, one to help them cross over when the time approached. You longed to be reunited with your husband when time was right.

“Why, of course.” He did a sly slimy smile. “We’ll sit some time aside and pray on this together at the temple.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much sir– eh, master geto.” You could see his lip curl at the name change and seen his nails dig into him palms. Pulling out a simple cross necklace from the insides of his black robe, he handed it to you, placing it into the center of your palm and closing your hand to form a fist.

“Keep this. Wear it. Don’t take it off until we next meet. It’s vital for the ritual we’ll have to preform.”

So you did. You wore it everywhere and didn’t take it off. Anything to keep your purity safe. You showed with it on, wore it underneath all your shirts and dresses.

“The gods spoke to me,” A phone call on the early morning after three weeks had passed. “It’s time.” It wasn’t even dawn yet, just a little past 3am and you were drowsy. “Wear something light. Very thin.”

You swallowed and looked over yourself, all of the sudden nervous and self conscious. Your body a bit more full and plum since the birth of two babies, everything thin you owned was tight against your body.

But you slipped into a long sleeved dark old dress you owned, that covered your entire body and hugged your figure.

You couldn’t help but feel so out of place and so weird when you walked into the sacred temple. Masked and cloaked individuals stood still, you could barely tell that they were breathing yet alone alive.

Swallowing, you made your way to the center of the temple, where you knew Geto would be waiting.

He stood with great posture and a small cross between his fingers, pressing his lips against it before rubbing his fingers against it, up and down. Your core tingled and you gripped the sides of your dress, feeling too hot to keep walking. Your knees buckled and your hands clutched at the wall by your side.

“Master Geto, he—lp!” You slipped and fell to the floor, landing with a small oof that left your mouth. A buzzing sensation on your clit and even feeling a rough hand on your folds. Massaging and pulling them apart.

“Just let it over take you. Just be glad, I didn’t do this while your husband was around. I’m being mighty merciful to you, my dear.” His voice is a shiver up your spine and his presence overtakes you, you feel him all over and he hasn’t even walked over to you yet.

“Tell me, my dear…” His voice cures your ails, making every moment more breathable again. “If I told you that the only way to keep your purity intact would be the touch of a god, would you still be willing?” His voice is sly and cocky.

You squeeze your eyes tightly, a light relief of touch making you moan heavily before it’s quickly snatched away. “That was just a taste, a small taste of purity that could welcomed back into your little soul.”

Something stirred up inside of your chest and a heavy weight made you groan, making you painfully uncomfortable and aware of just what you were missing.

“I need it.” You voice hoarse and detached, you weren’t sounding like yourself. “I’d do anything for it—!” You voice faded.

You felt several hands on you all at once but nobody was there. Solar bright hotness scarred your chest while the cross marked itself into your skin, the smell of burnt flesh all around you.

As if hours had passed, Geto finally approached you. Putting your head in his lap. He crouched and whispered in your ear, “I’m going to fuck the purity back into you.” Licking the insides of your ear before biting and sucking on the lobe. “You’ll be clean again.” He promised.

Slipping your dress up and removing your dainty underwear. “Already so soaked. You’re already ready for me.” His finger caressed your lips and he kissed you. His tongue licking throughout your mouth and sucking on every inch of your tongue.

Cloaked and masked individuals circled around you both and you clang into his grasp, shivering.

“They have to watch. They have to be here.” He explained calmly. “They’re praying over us, praying for you and your purity… shall I ask again, if you really want this? Remember the feeling that you felt…” That feeling was all you could think about, his touch and his voice amplifying everything.

He knew you wanted it. Hanging it over your head. Watching you pant and groan, your thighs sticky and your head spinning. “Please… you know I need it.”

“What would you husband think of you now…” he twists his fingers in your mouth, drawing them in and out. “Watching you beg like a little slut for me to fuck you… would he like it?”

You couldn’t bare to answer. “Please just fuck me already…” you pleaded with him, your eyes clouded with lust, his filled with sin and all he could do was drink it up.

The dizziness continued as the people watching stepped closer, you gulped and trembled, feeling like you can’t breathe.

“I’m going to give you exactly what you need to be pure again.” He pulls his robe off quickly and your eyes follow. His body sculpted to perfection, lean and a perfect built. Your eyes trailed down to his cock and you tried not to moan aloud.

Long and girthy with a dark pink tip, standing curved and full at your attention. You swallowed hard.

Leaning over you, he rubs himself between your cool wet gooey folds, lining his cock against your entrance. “Ready?” He murmurs and your eyes look between his then to his cock before you look to the lingering eyes around you.

“Yes. I’m ready.” Your voice strong and steady as your hands grab at his shoulders.

He slipped between your thighs and all of the heat and sweat around your body disappeared when a small moan left your lips. His cock completely splitting you open and his fingers digging into your thighs. Your legs spread wide as his hips thrust forward, hard.

Burying his nose into your neck he does a deep laugh. His hips wild with ever thrust, the splashy wetness from your pussy echoing around the temple. Moans bounce around with each time he plunges in and out of you.

Clenching around him, he groans, pulling himself out before quickly tapping his cock against your wet folds that open wide for him. He feeds your deprived insides his merciful cock with a sinister smile before he says:

“Tell me, who’s your fucking god now? Huh? Who do you belong to? Who is fucking you, hm? Who’s fucking this pussy pure?”

Gripping his shoulders harder and meeting his thrust you finally whisper, “You… you are, master Geto.”

His hips stutter when you tighten up on him, “Oh, so tight… so fucking tight.” He squeezed your thighs and ram inside of you, both of your moans loud. “Gonna fucking cum inside this pretty pussy.” He promises, jerking his hips and fucking deeper inside of your core.

Feeling every twitch from you, he uses two fingers to rub at your needy swollen clit. “Oh you like that? You like when I fuck this flower open?”

He plants kisses up and down your throat. “Please just…” you lock your legs around his waist, tightly. Wetness sliding down your thighs.

He shutters and sighs, rocking his hips and thrusting harder inside. His eyes intense as they glare down at you. “Such a good girl,” He says, his voice guff and his cock throbbing hard.

Your nails dig into his skin and your pussy squirts as he works his way in and out of you.“Take it.” He tip kissing your womb ever so gently before he’s pounding inside again, watching your thighs jiggle with every moment.

“Take my cum.” He growls, stilling over you. His body shakes and so goes yours, once his cum is planted inside of you, your body feels cool again.

Panting, you look into his dark eyes. “Am I pure?” Your eyes shining with hope and pleasure.

“Far from it.” He says and your face falls. “Turn around.”

Embarrassed and confused, you turn on your stomach.

You feel his rough hands touching on your ass and squeezing the plushness of it before he does the unexpected. A loud slap rings throughout the temple and you grown in pain. “Count.” He does another one to the opposite cheek.

“O-one…” Your soaked folds growing even wetness. “Two…”

Rubbing his cock between your ass he does another slap. “Three—!”

“I’m going to have my way with you for the rest of the day… until you physically can’t anymore.” He says with a deep chuckle. “Ready?”

[airbendertendou]

CHERRY TiNTED! ♡ chifuyu matsuno

synopsis : timeskip!chifuyu learns something about you from the past... it changes things.

cw : non-sexual bathing together , mutual pining but theyre both DUMB

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

"It's too bad," Hinata speaks as she picks at the frosting on her cake. Her lips poke out absentmindedly as she scoops a glob onto her fork. Takemichi tilts his head with a tap to her shoe — Hinata jumps, as if remembering he was with her. "That [Name] is leaving. That Chifuyu never felt the same. We became close friends and now..."

Takemichi blinks, memories that don't feel like his racing into his head. Flashes of you — a friend of a friend that Kazutora vouched for — and the pinkened, lovey-dovey eyes you always had set on Chifuyu popped into his mind. Along with the pining — from the other side, it seemed. "What do you mean?"

Hinata takes a sip of her drink. "[Name] never made a move because Chifuyu was always going on dates with other people. Took the hint, you know?”

"There was a chance," Takemichi blinks dumbly. Hinata sits up in her chair. leaning closer as her own eyes widen. "Chifuyu has a crush on [Name]. Always has."

The red-head sits frozen for a second before she sinks into her seat, closing her eyes in defeat. "What idiots."

——♡——

Bloody, bruised knuckles greet Takemichi when he comes back. He's panting and staring up at the sky, then at Chifuyu. The blond holds his hand out, pulling Takemichi up with a grunt. "All good?"

"Yeah," Takemichi breathes. His memories come back with a blink — past him decided to run his mouth again and couldn't put up a fight. "Thanks. Did I win?"

"Oh, yeah," Smiley pops up. His grin seems to widen — Takemichi thinks he's laughing at him. "Won big time. Always do."

Chifuyu clicks his tongue, looking away before slinging an arm around the timeleaper. "Let's get patched up. See you later!"

It's with alcohol stinging his cuts and a cold, pre-boiled egg on his eye that Takemichi remembers. There was a drink — your favorite that Chifuyu always brought home ; there was an ice cream — one that matched the color of your eyes.

You — he couldn't fight well, but maybe he could change your future. Make sure your heart is accepted ; your pining and Chifuyu's finished.

“Chifuyu.” Takemichi holds onto his shoulders. The blond blinks, eyes wide and confused. Michi sighs, “you have a chance with your roommate. You always have.”

He walks away, leaving Chifuyu confused. “Roommate…?” Something must’ve happened in the future, he thinks with a finger held to his chin. Chifuyu nods to himself, I’ll stop it!

——♡——

The shower is running when Chifuyu finishes getting ready. He waits on the spritz of his favorite cologne — he waits, for what, he's not sure. His shoes stay by the door — socks fresh on his feet as he runs a hand through his hair.

"[Name]?" He taps on the bathroom door softly with his knuckles. "I'm heading out now."

"Sure you don't want to join me first?"

It's something you always say — sly, flirty invites that he always denies. Chifuyu smirks, tugging on the sleeves of his shirt. Little did Chifuyu know, the sound of the shower muffled your sniffles and hiccups. He didn’t know then, but now—

Takemichi’s voice echoes in his head.

Turning on his heel, Chifuyu welcomes himself into the warm, steamy bathroom.

The curtain slides open, revealing you with your mouth agape, staring in shock. Chifuyu slots right under the shower, the water drenching him and his clothes. He lets out a sigh, cupping your cheek. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not,” you deny. Your nose scrunches as you sniffle, “s’the water. Why are you in here with your clothes on?”

Reddened, lithe fingers shake as they unbutton the top he’s wearing, slinging it onto the bathroom floor with a plop! His pants and underwear go next — you avert your eyes quickly. Chifuyu chuckles, “why are you so shy now?”

“Didn’t think you’d actually get in here,” you mumble. Blinking as his hands latch onto your hips, you frown. “What about your date?”

Chifuyu doesn’t think as he says, “want you more.” He’s fighting the urge to bury himself into your neck and take a nibble — your body wash smells so good and you look divine.

“What?”

“[Name].” It’s said with a loud, exasperated laugh as Chifuyu’s head falls back. “Do I have to spell it out for you?” One hand shoots to your cheeks, gripping them softly as he connects your eyes. “I like you — so much. I want to share a room and go on grocery store dates and get so lovesick it’s annoying. Got it?”

Your eyes are wide and almost pink as you speak through puffed cheeks. “Got it.”

——♡——

something short nd silly to post!! thank you for reading ♡ if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any tokyorev content, let me know! ♡

🍓 TOKYOREV TAGLIST : @night-shadowblood-writes2 @chrofeisnightmaregf @natsumesakasakisupremacy @emperorsnero @hajimeseyo

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[singsangseung]

Public

Hi besties! I am bringing you the first installment of my Valentine’s Day collab with @numberonejeonginstan! This idea has been festering in my head and i am a little too excited to bring it to fruition! 

Summary: Hard launching your relationship with Chan was always in the plan……but not this way

Warnings: taking of a sexual picture that gets uploaded on chan’s instagram, rough sex, multiple rounds, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex( doo not!), creampie, reader is a tease, Afab!reader, hair pulling, slightly traumatizing the band mates( you’ll see and I am sorry), mention of JYP( NOT SEXUAL AND AGAIN IM SORRY), Chan being on the phone with jyp while fucking you senseless, degradation, mention of spitting, dacryphilia 

!!MDNI!!, BLANK OR AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS WILL BE BLOCKES!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 years, that is how long you and Chan have been together. Shockingly, you had managed to keep your relationship well hidden and away from the public eye. 

Two happy years of blissful memories and tear jerking earth shattering orgasms. Naturally, you loved being able to gatekeep a side of him that only you knew. The side of him where he pulled your hair and spat in your mouth calling you his “dirty little secret,” his “pretty little cumslut.” 

But, he also had a sweet side, when in the bedroom.  Some days, he would hold your hands, your ankles settled on his slender waist ( right above his plump juicy voluptuous ass) as he so gingerly, sensually, precisely rolled his hips into yours. Those nights you were his angel, his pretty girl. 

As much as you loved keeping your relationship a secret, you both knew that eventually you would post or release a statement about your long term relationship or one of you, probably Chan, would slip up and word would spread like wild fire.

That’s when you came up with the idea of a post, a simple captured image of the two of you that would announce your relationship to the public world. Dating an idol was hard, but you and Chan had lasted two years already, even through all the dating rumors— Chan and Jimin— and tours, promotions, schedules, late nights in the studios.

So, you ,being the ever gracious partner you are, mentioned it to Chan. “Baby, why don’t we just post something to announce us?” You perched, curled against his chest one night in bed. “A post? Where, my love?” He yawned out, placing a soft kiss to your hair.

“Your instagram. The caption doesn’t;t have to be anything magnificent, and neither does the picture. Just something to say ‘ hey i have a partner.” You mumbled, your manicured fingernails tracing shaped along his defined chest. 

“Baby, are you sure?” He felt uncertain. It was so public, and once it was on the internet, it could never be removed. It was permanent. Gazing up at him , you nodded, “yeah. It doesn’t have to be some super spectacular picture, channie. Just us, it doesn’t even have to fully show our faces,” you consoled, sensing that he wasn’t too keen on the idea. 

But ……he was a little too keen…..and had sinister ideas in his head

That’s what got you to where you are now. Chan had completely stripped you and himself of all layers of clothing except underwear. Your sleek black push up bra and an accompanying thong–that was ruined by how wet you were– and his black Calvin klein boxers–that were holding his painfully hard dick. 

“S-so wet chan, please,baby.” You mewled out, feeling yet another surge of wetness ooze from your cunt. “Oh? You're so wet and I haven't even done anything yet,doll?” He teased, with a seductive lilt in his voice and tilt of his head. 

Laying on the bed, you drew your eyes closed and hissed as you felt the slight chap and plushness of his lips sucking at the juncture of your jaw and neck. “A-ah Chan. Fuck, so good,” you whined, your hands finding purchase at the hairs resting at the base of hips neck, pulling and tugging.

Little did you know, Chan had secretly grabbed his phone and snapped a picture of him sucking your neck. The picture only showing the lower half of your face. 

That was what he was going to post

Chuckling, Chan bit his teeth into the skin, hard enough to draw a hickey to the surface of what was your paled skin. “Yeah? Feels so good, honey? Bet your poor cunt is so drippy and wet for me, huh?” All you could do was nod your head quickly, as he slithered his hand down the plane of your torso and into your thong. 

“Poor doll, so fucking wet. You want my fingers?” Chan chuckled, leaning his head in to suck another hickey onto your skin. “Yes, yes please. Hhhnnnngggggg-fuck- please.” The words fumbled out of your mouth. Rubbing his calloused fingers along the slit of your cunt, he pressed them against your clit causing your body to jerk and your head to roll back.

“Oh my fuuck! Chan chan please,” you had all but managed to whine out before he rubbed brazen harsh circles and finger 8s on your clit. “Please what, doll? I'm giving you my fingers.” He laughed,haughtily. He knew what he was doing and he also knew he could make you cum from just rubbing your clit. 

As good as his fingers on your clit felt, and trust me it was good, you needed more. Closing your eyes, your hips bucked up and you cried. “Please more more! Hhhnnnngggggg! Want them in me, please chan!” You cried, hot tears of pleasure rolling down the plump apples of your cheeks. 

Chan loved seeing you cry when he was making you feel so good. It was one of his favorite sights, something he could write a song about. Hell, he already did but it was going to be unreleased.

With a dark chuckle, his fingers let up on your clit and he used his other hand to grab onto the fabric of your thong and pull it down your thighs. “Fuck, doll. So fucking wet. Poor cunt is all drippy for me.” He groaned out, once he saw the clear sticky string of your nectar connecting itself to your thong.

How could you not be wet? You bit your lit harshly and spread your legs further, feeling the pads of his fingers pressing at the entrance of your cunt. “Ah-ah! Fuck! So wet for you, channie!” You cried out, feeling his lips connect themselves with yours as he pushed 2 of his fingers into the wet walls of your cunt. 

“Yeah? Does that feel good?” He breathed against your lips, slowly building a rhythm as he pumped his bulbous fingers into your cunt. “Pretty cunt sucked my fingers right in, doll.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips. Shuddering, you let out a ragged breath and moan, to which he swallowed both. 

“Yes, yes. Hhhhnnnngggg feels so good, channie. Love your fingers!” You choked out, your breathing ragged as your chest rise and fell quickly. “Yeah?like my fingers, doll? Do they fill you up?” He snickered, the pace of his finger's quickening.

Soon enough, he was alternating between harsh pumps, slowed drags and just pressing on your g-spot with small vibrations. It was delicious, delirious and addictive. 

Going back to his fast harsh pumps, the palm of his hand was smacking against your clit with every push in. You were close, the coil of your orgasm tightening with every passing second. “Fuck fuck fuck! Channie! Close, close, ‘m gonna cum!” You sobbed, chest heaving and your legs fidgeting. 

Spitting into your mouth, chan fastened his pace and held your hips down. “Yeah? Wanna be a good little cumslut and soak my fucking fingers? Do it, do it so I can fuck you full of my big cock, doll.”

At that, the coil snapped and your vision went white. “Yeeeeeeesss! Hhhnngggg-fuck fuck fuck! Cumming!” You choked in broken sobs, your orgasm ripping through your body as you soaked his fingers. 

“Good girl, that's my good girl. Soaking my fingers like a dirty slut.” He cooed, venomously. Pulling his fingers out of your cunt, he pushed his boxers down as he hard and dripping cock sprang free. 

“All fours, doll.” He told you, which you somehow managed to hear. “Fuck, okay.” You whimpered, raising yourself into your limbs even though your arms collapsed, leaving only your ass in the air.

“Look at you. Offering that sweet cunt to me,” he chuckled, swiping his red and leaking cock head through your slit. “Please, channie. In me- need -” was all you managed to get out before he was pushing his cock in to the hilt. 

On the typical day, he would inch his cock into you. Sometimes even going as far as to count out each and every inch of his deliciously long, girthy, veiny cock. Hissing out, through bated breaths. “One inch in, doll. Stretching out so pretty around my big fucking cock.” The groans and grunts falling into the air, through his plump lips, into the room whose air smelt of pure unadulterated debauchery and sex. He’d inch another in, the grip your velvet walls on his girth almost suffocating.” Two in, doll. Fuck me.” Another inch, practically half way there. It felt never ending. But, when all 7 and half inches of his cock were sheathed in the warm, hot, suffocating,soft walls of your pussy it felt as if you didn’t know where you started and Chan ended.

At the moment, the base of his pelvis and his neatly trimmed pubic hairs were pressed so hotly smug against the crack of your ass. Slowly, he drew his hips back, eyes almost rolling to the back of his skull as a wet squelch sound echoed along the walls. As slowly as he withdrew his hips, he plunged his cock back into you. “Hnnnng! Oh my fuck! Channie!” You hiccuped, the breathing knocked out of your chest, at the force and precision of his thrust. 

“Fuuuuuuck, me. Pussy is so fucking wet, doll. What, does it get you hot and bothered all creamy in your pathetic little thong to know the world knows you belong to me?” He seethed, his breathing ragged. Picking up his pace, his hips snapped against yours, thus leaving a wet ring of  your arousal at the base of his cock. The most you were capable of doing was gripping the bed sheets around you and crying out in sheer, earth shattering pleasure. “Hnnnnngggg! A-ah-ah! Oh my god!” 

Yes. Yes it did, get you all hot, bothered and creamy to know the world was aware of your relationship—well not yet, at least.

“God can’t help you, doll. Now answer my question.”he barked, only continuing the brutal pummeling of his cock into the warm cavern that was your cunt. Smack. One sharp slap delivered to your ass cheeks, for each passing second you didn’t answer his question. “Answer the fucking question doll!”

Through your cries and hiccups, you nodded your head, feeling yourself get floaty. “Yes! Yes-fuck! Yes, I like knowing the world knows you’re mine and-“ another sharp thrust, his red mushroom cockhead bullying your g-spot. “Yes, it -fuuuuuck- it makes me hot and bothered and so fucking wet!”

While you lay there taking whatever Chan gave you, Chan reached to his bedside table to grab his phone. Opening the instagram app, he clicked the ‘make a new post’ button and threw the phone by your head. “I bet you fucking do, doll.” Snap, his pelvis collided against the swell of your ass, your ass cheeks rippling from the force. “Go ahead, post that fucking picture we took, doll. Let everyone know, I’m taken.” He sneered, a venomous laugh tumbling from his lips as his pace went from hard and brutal to deep and precise rolls. 

Incredulously, you peeked your eyes open, throwing a semi-horrified but mostly shocked face at him. “What!? Post the- hhhngg fuck I’m close- picture?! Are you fucking crazy, Chan!?” You argued, your eyes rolling back, as he punctuated his rolls to hit your g-spot with every punch in. Bending over your back, he sucked a hickey on the sweet spot behind your ear.  Chuckling, he panted, “yeah, crazy for you. Crazy in love with you crazy for this sweet fucking cunt.” He kissed the back of your neck, snapping his hips against yours.

Well. It’s his idea. 

Biting your lip, you moaned and took his phone into your hands, selecting the photo of you two. His plump luscious lips sucking the juncture of your neck and jaw. It was erotic, to say the leases, and definitely confirmed that Chan was in fact in a relationship. Swiping through the motions, you arched your ass into chan’s hips. “Fuck me, Chan. What should the caption be?”

02.14 

Valentine’s Day . This would be your third Valentine’s Day together. Each previous one being celebrated with lavish gifts, romantic candlelit dinners, making love

Which is a stark contrast to your current day. The feeling of chan’s hips ramming against yours, his mushroom cockhead leaking precum as he precisely hit your g-spot, the stretch of his cock in the tightness of your walls( no matter how many times you’d made love and fucked), the sounds of his groans and grunts. 

It was the polar opposite of your past shared valentines days. Chan could tell you were getting close. Man, he always knew. The way your warm wet walls would suffocate his cock in its vice like grip, leaking even more arousal to build at the thigh base of his cock wetting his pubic hair.  

Your breathing becomes shallow and broken with your desperate cries and begs and what he calls “pathetic princess pleas” for him to let you cum. Of course, he always did.

But, he had a little trick up his sleeve.

Sucking your earlobe into his mouth, he could feel every pulse and clench of your cunt as he bullied and abused your cunt with his ,magnificent, cock. “Hhhhhnnggggg!oh my fuuuuck! Chan Chan Chan,” you spilled, eyes clenching, the begs pouring from you like a faucet.

Cute. He thought it was cute. His own orgasm was creeping up on him, his balls full of hot thick cum waiting to be painting your walls. “I know, doll. But …..I need you to do one thing,for me,okay.” 

His rolls and thrusts and the gyrations of his hips never stopped, all the while. “Fuck-yes yes! Anything,channie! I’ll do anything, just let me cum please! I’m so close.” You cried, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as your throat burned from the amount of use it was going through.

“Post it,” he breathed into your ear. Post it? Post what— fuck. You had completely forgot about the post; that was to be uploaded on his instagram. That very instagram where he posted ‘boyfriend coded’ pictures that were taken by you. The instagram that had 7.1 MILLION followers— some of them being his own band members. 

The pleasure full abuse of his dick on your pussy had made you forget the post. The picture captioned a simple yet effective ‘02.14,’ “post it…..post it and I’ll give you my load, pump you full until you’re leaking and gasping for air, doll.” Chan slyly smiled down at your shaking form. Nodding, you shakily grabbed his phone, unlocking it with your Face ID; yes you had Face ID on his phone. 

With all the strength you could muster, your orgasm about to rip you to shreds and wreak havoc on your body, you hit the button. Posted. You cried, and curled your toes, hot cries leaving your body as you flashed him the screen, his post showing on the feed. 

Crying, your body seized and spammed, the hot white release pulling your body to the brink of reality. Damn was this orgasm strong. “Aaaaaggghhhhh! Hnnnggggg, fuck! I’m cumming fuck,Chan! Your vision was white, your release thoroughly coating the entirety of his cock. You came a lot. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush of announcing your relationship in such an erotic way or the way Chan was fucking you so addicting lay well or both. 

Probably both.

“Fuck. Good fucking girl. Take my load, like the good doll you are.” He groaned, fully bottomed out as spurt after spurt and ribbon after ribbon of his viscous hot cum filled your walls. “Yeeaahhhhh. Taking your boyfriend’s cum after posting that picture. My good girl,he spat, a tinge of venom laced in his husky voice. 

Regaining your breathing, you collapsed on the bed, Chan collapsing by your side.”wow……..happy Valentine’s Day,baby.” He smiled, placing a kiss to your hair. “Wow, indeed. Happy Valentine’s Day,my channie.” You giggled, still out of breath. “Can’t believe we just hard launched our relationship,” you giggled out, suddenly remembering the post.

He chuckled and nodded, “I know..what do you think they’ll say.” Oh boy did people have a lot to say, you knew they would and you didn’t need to check the post. But, you hadn’t even checked instagram yet. His phone had been tossed somewhere on the bed when he came and yours was charging on your nightstand. That and the fact that your body had been practically turned into a pile of mush and goo with the way Chan was giving it to you. You were just too lazy. 

Pulling you into his side, he placed a delicate kiss on your temple. “Kinda feels good to be out about it, though.” That was true, you wouldn’t have to be so secretive, always hiding and being cautious and careful about being seen together in public. “Agreed, channie. It feels nice, but i know you and you’ll still be flirting with stays on the bubble. “You laughed, patting his toned chest with your hand. “What? I don’t flirt, with them.” 

Lies. Lies lies lies. Lies and he knows it. “Oh shut it, mister “teasing mrs.Bahng is what i live for,” You snorted, the recollection of his bubble messages playing through your head. 

The atmosphere had made a 180 degree turn, hearing the familiar ring of his phone. “Huh?Who could be calling me?” He mumbled, sitting up and perching himself on the foot of the bed, checking the caller ID.

JYP PD-nim

Shit. Fuck. Damn it. Shitting bricks. Crying. Throwing up. That was how he felt. You could sense the change of his mood, by the way his eyebrows rose and he cleared his throat. Raising your eyebrows, you crawled until you were sitting behind him letting your cheek rest against his toned and muscular back. 

“Hi, JYP pd-nim.” He chuckled out nervously. Oh fuck……it was his boss. “Hello, Bang Chan. I saw your recent post.” He replied, dryly. Uh oh. “I-I’m so sorry, pd-him. I’m- I don’t know how to even explain it,” Chan stuttered out.

All of a sudden, a devilish idea popped in your head. Mess with him. Resting your cheek on his back, you slid your hands around his front and guided them around his chest. What were you doing, he thought. He was literally on the phone with his boss, for fucks sake. And you want to play games with him?

Dangerous. A dangerous game indeed. “Well, Bang Chan, I will have to release a formal statement and apology,” JYP sounded through the phone. His voice was calm but Chan's voice wouldn’t be. Slowly, you meticulously dragged your hands down to his softening cock. “I- i understand, pd-him.” He admonished, slightly choking on his saliva when your soft hands wrapped around his girth.

Muting the phone, he turned to you. “Yeah! What the fuck are you doing? I'm talking to my boss. Sit on your pretty ass and behave!” Chan barked at you, causing a gush of wetness to escape from your cunt, as you slowly jerked his cock.“ What if i don’t want to?” You giggled. Oh, you were in for it. RIP your pussy, again.

“Hello? Bang Chan are you still there? This is a very important conversation.” You could hear the words come from the speaker, your chin on chan’s shoulder as your lips sucked love bites into his tanned skin. “Yes! Yes, i’m here pd-nim.” He replied, swatting your thigh in warning.

A warning you did not heed, only fastening your hand causing a dribble of precum to spill from the slit of his now hard, again, cock.  Choking back a groan, he covered it with a cough and a “sorry, my throat is a little dry.” Another lie. Softly, you giggled and watched as his breathing hitched and he panicked. 

The conversation continued, as did your teasing. Your manicured fingernails leave scratches on his chest, as your body pressed against his back. He was going to snap, soon. “Listen to your boss, channie.” The whisper crossed his ears, as your lips were against the shell of his right ear.

Oh, he had enough of you and your games. Squishing the phone between his ear and shoulder, he turned to you and pressed you into the mattress. Once he muted the call, he pushed your legs into a mating press. “Wanna be a naughty doll and play games, huh? Well, I’ve had enough,’ and with that he was pushing his cock into your cunt and setting a brutal pace. 

Unmuting the call, JYP was still going on about what if dispatch put an article out, that some stay are young and impressionable, he should’ve talked to JYP about confirming your relationship to the public. 

At the moment, it was falling on Chan’s deaf ears.  he knew this was an important conversation which he should’ve been present in, paying attention because the post was suggestive and slightly erotic and could have big implications. Yes he should have been paying attention to what his boss  was saying.

But, how could he when your cunt was sucking him in and was so tight and snug around him, especially when he had fucked you not even 10 minutes ago? He couldn’t.  What was JYP going to do, anyways? Fire Chan? No, not in a million years. Put him on a hiatus? Shit, that’s mean he’d get to spend more time with you and fuck you more. He wouldn’t be complaining.

“Hello? Hello? Bang Chan?” He heard in one year, the wet squelches of his cock driving into your cunt playing through his other ear. With foxish eyes, you bit your lip. Moans and pants falling from your lips. “Aaaaah…hhhnnggg. So good, channie. More, give me more.”

If more was what you wanted then more was what you would get. Delivering a harsh thrust, his cock was fully bottomed out in you as he withdrew a couple inches. Pushing back in, his cockhead was fully pressing around your g-spot. He knew its location so well. “Yeah? Like that, doll?” He chuckled, his boss still spilling words about the post and blah blah blah.

In all honesty, Chan couldn’t care less. But you wanted to poke the bear some more. “Chan-ah. Pay attention to him,” you breathlessly giggled, feeling your toes curl. Your second orgasm of the night approaching. “Pay attention? How can I pay attention when your tight little pussy is sucking me in, doll?” He punctuated his question with a hard thrust.

“Ah! ah ah fuck,channie!” You moaned, reaching up to tug on his ebony hair. He had a point. If you were on the phone while he was balls deep inside you, you definitely wouldn’t have been able to pay attention. “See, doll? Can’t pay attention when you feel so good around me,” he chuckled out, his lush lips pressing against the swells of your breasts. 

“Chan-fuck! It’s your boss,” you helplessly cried, as he only continued to delve and plow his cock into you. “No, just focus on us, doll. I know you want to cum again. And i know you want me to fill you up again, yeah?” He chided, phone still tucked between his ear and shoulder. 

Rolling your eyes back, you nodded. Damn, he was right that you wanted him to fill you again and that you wanted to cum again. “I can feel you getting close. Your little cunt is all gushy and squeezing me, doll. Give me one more,baby.” He coerced, rolling his hips into your, your thighs perched high on his. “I know you want to,” and damn did you.

As close as you were, you needed just a touch more, a nudge, a push. Something, but you couldn’t put your tongue on it. Tongue. That was what you needed. “Moaning, you pulled Chan down for a hot kiss. Immediately, your tongues fought for dominance. 

That beloved second orgasm was getting closer and closer. “I can tell you want to cum. Come on baby, one more.” Chan breathed in your mouth. His lips swallowed each and every one of your cries, pants, hiccups, pleas. Tearfully, you cried into his mouth, hands pulling his hair. “Right there, I’m right there. Fuck! Hhhnnnggggg channie!” You pleaded, your muscles spamming and twitching again as your back arched from where it laid on your bed. 

“Let go for me doll. Soak me good and I’ll fill you up.” He bargained, the pace in his rolls and thrusts faltering. His own second orgasm on the brink of grasping his conscience. He couldn’t hold out much longer, so he reached a hand to rub quick calculated circles on your clit. 

 “I-hng! Fuuuuck! Yes yes, like that! I’m gonna cum!” You wailed, sobbing as your head tipped back and the band of your orgasm snapped. For the second time that night, your vision went white and your body was made mush. Pliable for whatever Chan wished.

But, all he wished was to cum in you, fill you with his seed. And that was exactly what he did. Pinching his eyes shut, his hips staggered before stilling against your own. “Yeeeeah, taking my cum again. Juuuust like that, squeezing my cock so good.” He groaned out,voice husky and raspy.  He came a lot, leaking out of your abused hole and onto the bedding below your now sweaty bodies. 

Those sheets were absolutely ruined, but it wasn’t the first time nor would it be the last. 

Cynically, Chan unmuted the phone call and held his phone to you. “Want to say hi to JYP pd-nim, doll?”

~<3~<3~<3~<3~<3~<3~<3~<3~<3~

tags; @straykeedz : @straykeedz-recs : @kaciidubs : @itsnotmydejavu : @linosssss : @hyunsvngs : @jinnie-ret : open <3 reblog, comment or dm us to be added <3

<3 reblog to show supoort<3

-please do not, repost, translate, copy, steal, paraphrase or claim my works , on any website- ©️SingSangSeung 2023

[highvern]

When I Kissed the Teacher

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, humor

Summary: Mr. Kim has a crush, to his students that much is clear. It's also clear that you like him too. What happens when a group of meddlesome ten year olds decide to play cupid for their two favorite teachers?

Warnings: science teacher mingyu, grammar teacher reader, meddling students, crushes, flirting, lots of candy and coffee

Length: ~5.2k

Note: it's here! thank you to @gyuwoncheol and @gyuswhore for beta reading and to my lovely @tomodachiii for fact checking my knowledge of primary school lol

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Turning from the white board, Mingyu faces the room full of weary children. Mondays are hard. Early mornings are hard. Learning the difference between reptiles and mammals first thing on Monday morning is downright torture. But it’s nothing a little bribery (read: candy) can't fix.

"Alright class, today we're learning about animals! Who remembers what a mammal is?"

Mingyu barely finishes his sentence before a sharp knock interrupts.

“Mr. Kim,” you seethe from the doorway.

Mingyu turns around immediately, eyes wide in fear at your tone. “Yes?”

“Can I speak with you? In the hallway?”

The class of ten year olds “ooooh” as their teacher trails after you like a kicked puppy. If they weren't awake before they sure are now. He shoots a silencing look back before dipping out the door where you wait, foot tapping impatiently.

“Would you like to explain where all my printer paper went?”

Mingyu tries to play dumb. “I don’t know?”

“Oh really?" You blink. "Because I found the box in the workroom and guess what was on the printer? More of your worksheets for your class!”

“How do you know they were for my class?”

You don’t answer, in favor of shoving the animal themed coloring sheets into his chest harshly.

“Listen, anyone could have…” He trails off under your withering glare.

“If you need paper, ask!”

Mingyu burns under the reprimand. “Oh, like you asked to use my paints last month?” 

“That was an accident!" you argue, eyes wide. "And I replaced them.”

“Alright, then I’ll replace the paper I took.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

With a curt nod, you turn to leave; unaware of the blushing cheeks and heart eyes following your retreating form. But the gaggle of elementary students waiting for Mingyu's return see them clear as day; their fits of shrill giggles and whispers falling on deaf ears as he shakes off the stars clouding his mind.

Mr. Kim, their goofy science teacher, has a crush. And like children are wont to do, they hatch a scheme to help him out.

—

“Alright. Do we remember the difference between fragments and sentences?”

The classroom ripples with tiny voices shouting “yes” with varying degrees of confidence. Their last quiz grades are proof they haven’t quite grasped the subject yet but that’s why you’re planning for an intensive review with them today.

“Awesome! So our warm up today should be a piece of cake. I’ll help with the first one so let's all look at the boa—”

A knock at the door cuts you off. Mingyu stands in the threshold, looking positively mischievous. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Ms. y/l/n. But can I speak with you in the hall?”

Forcing a smile, you respond. “Certainly. Class, why don’t you all work with your desk partner on the worksheet and when I come back we’ll go over the answers?”

They break into groups, chattering about everything but the work you’ve assigned; most notably the way Mr. Kim beams as you follow him outside. However, once you’ve crossed beyond the border of the brightly decorated room, twenty pairs of ears strain to hear why Mr. Kim interrupted their morning lesson.

“What's this about?” you ask.

Mingyu smiles, eyes shifting to the floor. “Here's the paper I owed you.” 

“You’re kidding.”

Three hefty boxes are stacked next to your door. It’s far more paper than Mingyu used for his color sheets, and more than you’d probably need for the rest of the semester.

“I thought you could use extra since you’re too stingy to share.”

“I’m not stingy!” You scoff.

Mingyu simply flashes another self-satisfied smile before heaving a box into his arms and carrying it into your classroom. He could certainly carry all three boxes at once; anytime there were desks or anything else remotely heavy to be moved, Mingyu did so with ease. But the kids don’t think anything of the way he so obviously drags out the torture.

The kids watch Mr. Kim weave through the maze of tables towards the back of the room.

“Lia, can you open the door for me please?”

The little girl jumps from her desk and bolts for the supply closet, braids bouncy with each step.

“In here okay?” Mingyu asks.

Blinking from your stupor, you turn back to your desk as you answer. “Yeah, it’s…whatever.” 

Your class stopped their work to focus on the unfolding drama between their two favorite teachers. They don’t know why you can’t seem to stand their science teacher, and it’s anyone’s guess why Mr. Kim has decided to interrupt their grammar lesson for something so silly. But it’s clear that whenever you two meet an argument is clear to follow. And in the guidebook of elementary school, if you like a girl, you always argue with them.

So enthralled in your silent battle of wits with the peppy man, you miss the two girls plotting in the corner.

Hana turns to her friends with breakneck speed. “Did you see the way Mr. Kim smiled at her?”

“He’s so in love,” Arin sighs dreamily.

“And Miss y/l/n is blushing! We should help them.”

Their whispers are cut off when you clap. “Alright! Back to work!”

Mingyu lingers by the front until you forcibly shoo him away, huffing at the permanent smile stretched across his lips even when the door slams in his face.

“Meet at the tree during recess.” 

The two girls nod and return to their worksheets.

A new week comes with new challenges. Today’s is the universe’s determination to make your life as difficult as possible.

Your alarm didn’t go off, your shoddy dryer left you with damp clothes, and your car battery decided a short strike would be a great way to start the freezing morning. There was barely time to wash your face with cold tap water let alone put on makeup or style your hair. To top it all off, the green lunchbox with leftovers from your favorite restaurant sits on the shelf of your fridge which means the crumbled granola bar at the bottom of your purse will finally see the light of day.

Flicking on the lights, you rush to prepare for the day. By the grace of god your first period is planning time so no students witness your near breakdown from the absolute shit storm of the morning. Not much is to be done since you already organized everything you needed Friday afternoon but the tense events of the day leave you feeling off. Not even a cup of coffee with the creamer you reserve for days like these helps the overwhelming unease rippling in the back of your throat.

Your allotted private time washes by and before you know it, a gaggle of students filters into your room, giddy on holiday spirit and sugar. The first five minutes of class are spent reminding them their butts belong in chairs at their own stations, that the warmup is for them to complete on their own, and if they aren’t feeling well enough to do classwork they need to go to the nurse.

Twenty minutes into the lesson and the worksheet for their quiz on Friday finally manages to capture their attention. A few students struggle but most are sailing through. Its the same material as last week just with a new puzzle for them to complete once they have all the correct answers.

“Alright, who can tell me what word fits for number six?” you ask.

The attentiveness you’ve sweated to cultivate all morning dissolves when a volunteer knocks to distribute candy-grams.

“Delivery!” a young woman sings as she enters, dressed in red from head to toe with heart shaped sunglasses and a sparkly headband. Her wicker basket flows with candy bars wrapped with shiny ribbon and cardstock penned with confessions.

The shrill symphony of oohs and ahhs as the kids receive pieces of candy raises the vein on your temple. 

“And for Ms. y/l/n!” the young woman sing-songs, heart headband bouncing as she approaches your desk.

The cardstock reads one of the cheesy messages the school provides for the Valentine cards they sell as a yearly fundraiser.

‘I like you a choco-lot! - your secret admirer’ 

You throw it into a drawer in your desk, oblivious to the crestfallen faces of two little girls watching with rapt attention. 

“I don’t think she likes chocolate,” Arin whispers.

“No. Remember during Halloween? She said her favorite candy is Twix. She gave Gabi an extra point on the spelling test when she brought in her halloween candy and gave them to her.” 

“Well maybe she’s mad because it wasn’t a Twix!”

“Maybe. But Mr. Kim didn’t react to the note on his desk this morning either,” Hana huffs. “But he was late so maybe he didn’t see it.”

Your second attempt to put class back on track falls flat. Instead of group review, kids come up to your desk one by one to check their answers while you nurse your headache until the bell dismisses everyone to their next destination. Another crop of students flood the seats, emotions running high from who did and didn’t receive candy in their last class. Two students end up arguing about who knows what and then proceed to break into frustrated tears.

You bite your tongue to stop from doing the same and put on one of the movies you reserve for days like these.

When Mingyu walks into your room after school ends and all the kids are dismissed for pick up, you give him a look that sends him turning around and exiting the way he came without a word.

Tuesday brings a better attitude. Mostly because you get to take all of your class to the library for silent reading. But the homemade stirfry sitting in your lunch box in the teacher’s lounge helps too.

Your second period kids spread out through the room, some sprawled across the worn rugs on their bellies while others curl up in the much coveted bean bags; a few choose to hide between the imposing bookshelves, crowded on all sides by the smell of old paper. 

With an overly sweetened latte sitting in one hand, and a new novel in the other, you perch at the long table near the librarian's desk to ‘supervise.’

“How did you manage to get a copy of The Gate? I couldn’t even get the pre-order before it sold out.” Elise, the librarian, asks. 

You smile into your coffee cup before responding. “Eh, I know a guy.”

“You do? I thought you didn’t date?”

“I don’t.” You nod. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t have connections.”

“Well whoever your ‘connection’ is, send them my way when you're done with him.”

You pretend to ponder before answering, “I’ll think about it.”

Snapping your book shut, you rise to gather the kids to return back to class. It takes several minutes as a few refuse to join the line until their current chapter is finished and Kai pulls out the puppy dog eyes, begging to stay all day to finish his book. 

You corral them out the door with promises of more reading time on Friday if they behave well the rest of the week. Some roll their eyes but most nod enthusiastically at the opportunity to skip on their weekly quiz.

Unlocking the door, you unpack your things and find a basket of Valentine’s on your desk to be passed out. Almost all the kids receive at least one, some find two or even three heart shaped sugar cookies on their desk. Your heart squeezes when some of the students decide to divy up their cookies and gift them to the students who didn’t receive a note. 

The last cookie at the bottom of the basket has a note with your name on it and a message in the same swirly script as yesterday’s.

We go together like milk and cookies. - your secret admirer

As far as cheesy Valentine’s go, you’ve seen worse. But free snacks are free snacks and the confection tastes great dipped in your coffee.

Your fourth period class focuses on their worksheets, silently deciphering the reading and ticking of questions. You promised whatever group finished first with the most right answers gets a special Valentine treat; full sized candies and extra credit on Friday. 

Whatever it takes to keep them focused while you work through grading everything for your other classes.

You don’t notice the man waiting at the door until one of your kids greet their science teacher; a ripple of tiny ‘Hi, Mr. Kim!’s following. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mingyu announces from the door. “But, ugh, the volunteer accidentally gave me this.”

“Oh! Thanks Min—Mr. Kim.” 

You take the can of orange soda from his hand and skim the note.

I have a ‘crush’ on you. - your secret admirer

None of the students can read the note from their seats but you and Mr. Kim look equally bashful. 

“What are you guys working on? Mingyu asks, hoping to diffuse the tension.

A cacophony of voice race to explain their assignment. Mingyu pretends to understand, smiling at their enthusiasm and grabbing a worksheet for himself. 

He plants himself in one of the tiny plastic chairs next to your desk meant for ten year olds rather than a grown man of his size. It’s comical the way his knees brush his chest and any small move across the slippery seat threatens to land him on the floor.

Reviewing the sheet, Mingyu announces, “Alright, how about if you guys finish your work before me, we can have a pizza party in my class on Friday?”

More screams bounce off the walls.

“You guys can’t finish if you’re talking to Mr. Kim,” you remind them.

The room descends into a cozy calm; the sound of pencils on paper, your keyboard clicks, and the soft jazz from the computer speakers blending together.

You don’t look up to grab the answer key from the corner of the desk, Mingyu huffing from his seat at being caught.

“No cheating,” you smirk under your breath.

“Creative strategy,” he argues.

Instead of answering you shake your head and continue to focus on your own tasks. 

Ten minutes and twenty emails later, two groups of students rise and approach your desk at the same time. 

“We finished first!”

“No, we did!”

“Guys,” you interrupt them. “I’ll grade them both and whoever has more right wins. Besides, Mr. Kim owes you a pizza party anyway.”

The entire class cheers at the news while Mingyu playfully pouts. Maybe if he hadn’t given up on his worksheet to snoop through the basket full of snacks on your bookshelf, he wouldn’t be eating his own words.

The second group of students to approach your desk ends up victorious. You mark down their candy orders to pick up on your weekly grocery shopping trip on Thursday night before sending them to back up their belongings so you can all head to the cafeteria.

“What’d you bring for lunch?” Mingyu asks as he walks with you to the teachers lounge to retrieve your lunch boxes.

“Pasta salad.”

“Wanna trade?” 

“What’d you bring?” you ask, handing him the black grocery bag you know carries his lunch.

“Pasta salad.”

You roll your eyes and kick the fridge shut.

—

After lunch you have another free period. The printing room is empty so you take advantage and make enough copies for the rest of the week. Perhaps Mingyu wasn’t wrong to bring you three boxes of paper.

Lugging the stack in hand, you turn down that hall only to find a familiar face standing guard outside your classroom.

“Arin? Why are you in the hallway? You should be in class.”

“I was just…going to the bathroom!”

“Really? Because there's a bathroom right outside Mrs. Lee’s classroom if I remember correctly.”

“It was gross!”

Considering Mrs. Lee’s classroom sits on the main hallway and intersects with two other grades, it probably looked more akin to a battlefield than a restroom at this time of day.

“Okay…but hurry back. And I’m gonna let Mrs. Lee know what took you so long so she isn’t worried.” 

You side step around her but she moves right into your path. And then again. And again.

“Arin, what are you doing?” 

“Sorry, Ms. y/l/n. I don’t feel good. Can you walk me to the nurse?”

Crouching to her height, you rest the back of your hand against her forehead. Arin never admits she doesn’t feel well even when she’s tinged green and hacking up a lung. It’s the perfect admission to keep you from peering past the threshold of your classroom and blowing the entire operation.

Until a loud crash and high pitched scream breaks the silence of the hallway.

You jump back up.“What the—”

“Wait!” Arin shouts, throwing her arms and legs wide to block your path like a three foot tall ‘X’.

“Arin, what is going on?” 

“Mr. Kim said animals make themselves bigger to be scarier,” Arin says, tiny face scowling.

“And why are you trying to scare me?” 

Another bang echoes out the classroom forcing you to pick the little girl up by her armpits and carry her inside with you. She slips from your hold as you stare with a wide mouth at the scene. A desk is pulled up to the board allowing Hana to balance atop it as she scribbles across the chalkboard.

Wil you be my Valintin? - Mr. K

“Hana! What are you doing?”

“Arin!” Hana huffs indignantly.

Arin opens her mouth to respond but the look on your face silences both girls. You help Hana down from the desktop before crossing your arms in front of you and taking a deep breath.

“Sit. Now.”

They trudge to the seats next to your desk; heads hung low, tears brimming in their eyes. Neither has been on the receiving end of such a reprimand before; they’re usually your best behaved students.

You allow them to stew in silence as you right the two chairs Hana knocked over. She doesn’t look injured which is a relief but your nerves are shot from the perplexing situation. Hana and Arin can be troublemakers but they’ve never done anything like this before.

Once you're certain the urge to yell at them is quelled you approach your desk and take a seat. You watch them expectantly. Arin chances a glance up and swiftly looks back to her lap while Hana focuses on the picture at the edge of your desk, blinking away tears.

“Girls,” you sigh. “What were you doing in here?”

“Ms. y/l/n,” Arin blubbers.

Presenting the tissue box, you wait several moments while they both dab their eyes and blow their noses before speaking again.

“We just thought…” Hana starts, glancing at the other girl.

“Thought what?”

“Mr. Kim’s in love with you and we wanted to help!”

“I see.” You nod. “Did Mr. Kim tell you that?”

They look at each other before shaking their heads ‘no.’

Your temple throbs from the situation. A measured breath through your nose sends the girls into a frenzy.

“We can tell!”

“You’re perfect for eachother!”

“And did Mr. Kim ask you to sneak into my classroom while I wasn’t here?”

“No ma’am,” they mumble in unison.

It dawns on you that the two girls have been behind all the gifts you’ve received this week.“Are you two behind all the Valentine’s I’ve gotten?”

“We were just trying to help!” cries Arin.

Moving to crouch in front of them, you wait until they both look up at you.

“It’s very sweet what you were trying to do and I’m sorry I yelled at you. But you can’t sneak out of class. What if something happened and you got hurt climbing the table?”

“I’m sorry,.” Hana says.

“Me too.” 

You pass them more tissues to wipe their noses.

“How about we get you two back to class?”

“But what about Mr. Kim?”

“Yeah! He needs to know how you feel.”

“That’s between Mr. Kim and I. Understand? Those are grown up things.”

The repulsion painting their faces forces you to bite back a snort. Instead you offer your hands, pinkies extended towards them both.

“How ‘bout this? I promise to talk to Mr. Kim if you two promise no more meddling. Okay?”

All three of you share a smile as you intertwine their pinkies with your own. 

“Now,” you say whilst jumping to your feet. “You are supposed to be in Mrs. Lee’s class. And you are supposed to be at the library.”

Escorting them both back to where they belong, they can’t help but giggle when you pass Mr. Kim’s room and he waves. The question is clear on his face but you shrug your shoulders. 

You’ll explain everything later.

You smile knowingly at the corner of the classroom where two little cupids sit as the volunteer brings you a lollipop with a note reading ‘I’m a sucker for you.’

Part of you feels guilty they pooled their own money together to supply you and the teacher next door with treats all week in an effort to play matchmaker. But another part can’t help but laugh. And when you get the chance to tell Mingyu what they’ve planned you’ll no doubt laugh harder.

But because the universe somehow knows you lied to your students the day prior you find your reckoning in the cafeteria.

It was Mingyu’s fault. Or at least that’s what you argue. You barely made it three steps inside the room before the large man bulldozes you; sending his lunch and your own down your fronts in a palette of greens and browns.

His eyes widen in horror as a slice of tomato peels off your shirt and flops to the floor. “I am so sorry!”

“Seriously?” you choke.

The entire school watches with baited breath. Students and teachers alike watch with abject horror as you skirt around the taller man and flee with shaking shoulders and your chin dipped into your chest. Mingyu gapes like a fish as you run by, frozen in place. As hundreds of eyes settle on him, he realizes they all saw how he drenched you in salad and coffee. 

Mrs. Lee dismisses him with a nod, silently agreeing to watch his class so he can trapeze out to his car and find something suitable to wear.

—

Mingyu watches the game of kickball unfold across the field, keeping an eye on the rowdier students as they pick teams. But even from a distance he recognizes one face is notably absent.

He finds Kai slumped on a bench at the far corner of the playground using a stick to draw lines in the dirt at his feet.

“Hey, buddy. You feeling okay?” Mingyu asks. 

Kai never misses a game of kickball. Even when his arm was in a cast at the beginning of the year, he insisted he only needed one good arm to play defense and neither to play offense. Kai’s mom simply laughed at Mingyu’s concerned email and said her son was exactly like his dad and there was no stopping him if he was set on something.

So to have the little curly haired boy isolated on the far edge of the field is serious cause for concern.

Kai looks up briefly at Mingyu’s approach before returning to his mud art. “Mr. Kim, have you ever liked someone?”

“Liked someone?” Mingyu drops onto the bench next to him.

“Like,” the little boy inhales trying to explain himself. “Like a girl?”

Mingyu snuffs out his chuckle at Kai’s innocent question. “Yeah, why do you ask? Do you like a girl?”

“I–My friend does!”

“Okay,” Mingyu nods.

“And he doesn’t know how to tell her.”

“Well that's tough.” 

“How’d you tell the girl you liked?”

“Well,” Mingyu drops to a whisper. “Once upon a time, I had a crush on this girl. And she was the prettiest girl I ever saw. Smart and funny too.”

“Did she run fast?”

The question confuses Mingyu at first but then he remembers he’s talking to a ten year old and the rules of attraction hinge on who gets the swing the highest and jumps off.

“She ran really fast,” he nods. “And she made me so nervous I couldn’t talk to her. My palms got all sweaty and my face turned red.”

“That happens to m—I mean my friend!”

“And it feels like there's a bunch of frogs jumping around your stomach?”

“Yeah,” Kai nods. “So how’d you tell her?”

“Well one day, I finally decided to introduce myself. Walked right up to her, opened my mouth and…poof.”

“Poof?”

“Poof.” Mingyu hangs his head. “I forgot everything I was gonna say to her.”

“What happened after that?”

“She waited a few minutes and then said ‘okay, I’ll meet you at 6:30 for dinner.’”

“She knew you liked her?”

Mingyu nods gravely before imparting his most sage wisdom. “Girls are very smart, Kai.”

“So I should try and tell her I like her?”

“Your friend should at least try,” Mingyu shrugs.

Kai blushes, having been clearly caught. “But what if she doesn’t like him back?”

“That’s okay. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim. You’re the best!”

“You’re welcome, buddy.” Mingyu gives him a fist bump before shooing him back towards his friends. “Now go play kickball, the boys need your help.”

Kai runs off but a new presence fills the vacant seat on the bench. 

“I thought we agreed to keep our romantic life a secret at work.”

Mingyu smiles sheepishly before turning to look at you. “Oh, you heard that?” 

“Yeah, I heard,” you smile. “They already think you have a crush on me.”

“Smart kids.” He says, enjoying the way the worn sage button up swallows your figure. 

Mingyu loves when you wear his clothes, he told you this morning when you stole his favorite jacket. Which is why you both took almost twenty minutes to gain your composure after he spilled an entire tray of food on you. 

Mingyu swears he didn’t do it on purpose. How could he have known you were coming through the door at that very moment? But he’d do it again if it meant seeing you in one of the spare shirts he keeps in the truck again. Even if it meant he’d also sustain minor coffee burns.

“They think I have a crush on you too.”

You watch the way he traces your collar bone, catching the twinkle of the diamond pendant resting at the hollow of your throat; his birthstone. It was the first piece of jewelry he bought you when you started dating almost a decade ago. 

You hadn’t taken it off since the day he gave it to you with shaky hands and red ears.

“Do you?” He asks.

“Do I, what?”

“Have a crush on me?”

“Oh Gyu,” you coo at him. “I have the fattest crush on you.”

“Damn right you do.”

Sitting outside with an entire audience of other teachers and students doesn’t allow either of you to fall into the familiar comfort of adorning kisses or airtight hugs. But Mingyu’s pinky brushing yours in the ample space between your figures is enough for now.

Friday is Valentine’s day which means all the kids don red and pink outfits and prepare for a day of candy filled fun. You spent all morning helping the art teacher set up paint stations. Why she cashed in on the long owed favor with such a simple task was beyond you but the monotony is a nice change from the chaos you’ve experienced all week. When second period rolls around, you shuffle back to your classroom; welcomed by the line of students waiting outside your locked door. 

“I swear! I saw Mr. Kim and Ms. y/l/n at the grocery store last night.”

“Hana, Ms. y/l/n said its grown up business. Maybe you just saw people that look like them,” Arin shrugs. “And I don’t wanna get in trouble again.”

“It had to be them!”

They quiet down as they walk past your figure, smiling like cherubs when you greet them.

Students file in one by one, shrill voices echoing from excitement. Most cheer about their pizza party with Mr. Kim later that afternoon, a few squeals about the set of Valentine’s their parents sent with them to handout. 

Your ears catch a few other snippets of conversation as you wait for the stragglers to make it by. 

“Oh my gosh those are so pretty!”

“Those look like the flowers my mommy likes!”

Curiosity gets the better of you, forcing you to step into the room and see what the kids are talking about. 

An explosion of pink camellias resting on your desk. Huge blossoms with pale pink petals spill over the sides of the vase, slips of greenery sprinkled throughout. Approaching your desk, the floral aroma fills your nose. The blooms feel like soft velvet under the pad of your finger tracing the largest one in the center of the arrangement.

Who on earth?

As if on cue a mop of black hair peaks in from the hall. Mingyu eyes the bouquet and the pleased look on your face before allowing his own to break into his infamous smile.

“Just wanted to make sure they got here safe,” he calls.

You whip your head up, eyes wide and mouth open at the can of worms he just spilled.

“What?” Mingyu asks innocently. “Can’t a man buy his fiancee flowers?”

He disappears with a wink but his laughter at the chaos he’s stirred up can be heard miles away.

“MISS Y/L/N YOU’RE MARRIED?” Mark screams.

Another shrill voice answers, “Fiancee means they’re almost married, idiot!” 

“You lied to us!” Arin and Hana chorus.

Dropping into your chair, you hide your burning face in your hands. Coincidentally it also hides your shy grin from the hoard of ten year olds jumping in their seats at the news.Mingyu is in so much trouble.

A few weeks before the new school year starts, a group of nearly eleven year olds crowd into the pews of the massive church at the center of town. Stained glass reflects patterns over the marble floors, casting them in a rainbow of colors. 

Some sit on their hands to calm the adrenaline pumping through their tiny veins. Others rock back and forth in an effort to watch Mr. Kim strut down the aisle in a fancy looking suit. 

But all of them gasp when you turn the corner.

You look like a real life princess in your wedding dress, floating towards their science teacher waiting at the altar with tears and a smile matching your own.

When you and Mr. Kim kiss, the girls squeal and the boys blush.

Several rows ahead sits a small group of older students, who’ve long graduated elementary school and are headed to college in a few days. They exchange satisfied smiles and pat themselves on the back for getting their favorite fourth grade teachers together all those years ago.

Maybe now your new classes won’t try playing Cupid like they do every year given Mr. Kim finally married their favorite teacher.

-

Fic taglist: @tacosandbitch @leechanniee @syprosight @prettygyuuu @itza-meee @cottoncheol @ashluvy @jkslvsnella @xuimhao @vanishingboots @miujunhui @viciousdarlings @imprettyweird @akeminy @sana-is-ms-rmty @jayfrvr @watermelonsugawara @bouclesdefeu

Permanent taglist:

@cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @tomodachiii @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @gyuguys @primoppang @mine-gyu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[candieduranium]

my intro post

i guess it’s about time i made one of these

(why does this have so many notes???😭/genuine)

long ass intro oml

last updated september 23, 2024 (minor update)

•my name is micah but i also respond to furcata and rover

•i use any pronouns except it/its. other than those, i genuinely do not care what you use for me

•im a minor

•i am a christian. i do not force it onto other people. please respect my religion.

•i make mistakes on my blog (accidentally deleting things, unbalanced polls, etc.) from time to time so please excuse if i make some errors. trying my best.

•my tag for my original posts and reblogs that i add to is “micah’s owlposting” even for stuff that isn’t owlkin-related. i have to retroactively tag my old posts with this tag so keep in mind that not all of them are tagged! i will update this post when i finish tagging.

•i am an american barn owl therian, vernid othermidst, machinehearted, and pigeonhearted.

• i am a quadrobist. i started in april of 2024.

•usually the things i post are about my alterhumanity but i also post golden texts my friends and i send each other along with some other stuff. sometimes in my posts there are mentions of sex and (mild?) sexual themes

•im also a furry. furry ≠ zoophile

•my favorite music is by greta van fleet and umbrabyte. i also just enjoy vocaloid in general, too. in fact, the original purpose i had for my blog was just to keep up with umbrabyte and her content better. here’s umbrabyte’s spotify:

•my favorite aesthetics are cybercore, mizuiro/ tenshi kaiwai, vaporwave, and rococo

•my only definite dni is if your blog is focused on nsfw, has sexually explicit images, or unsafe for minors in general. we can interact if you are in a basic dni (zoophile, radqueers, etc) but i probably won’t interact with you as much as those who arent in the dni.

•haters will be blocked unless i find them especially funny.

•im up for chatting about whatever whenever so just shoot me a dm if you feel like it (sfw, obviously)

•my hobbies and special interests are drums, classical latin, fursuit making, cosplay, and illustrating

•i’m very interested in learning how to make vtuber models and customizing ball-jointed dolls

•my main fandoms are umbrabyte, tloz, pjsk, and tadc (i know some these fandoms are known for having CRAZY and problematic fans. im not one of them)

•i have a 4 year old black cat named dumpling (i post pics of him sometimes) and a 16 year old dog named stella. i hope to get a couple of oranda goldfish someday

•i dont have a set posting schedule. i post when i post. but i generally like to stay pretty active and try to post at least once per day.

•i follow anyone who interacts with my posts positively when im not in their dni and theyre not in mine and their blog isn’t completely default/blank this is now false. i have just learned that the maximum follow count is 5k and i am already above 4k. there are too many of you for me to follow you all😭

•some random and useless stuff about me: i have mild-moderate trypophobia and a deviated septum, i’m 5’7”, my favorite color is orange, i LOVE creme brulee, and my mbti is antp-t (a for ambivert)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

mild eyestrain warning ⚠️

how the fuck does this have so many notes??😭

vent-ish/vent-adjacent warning ⚠️

here’s a copypaste from another of my posts regarding my posting schedule and status:

hey folks, i may not be posting as much going forward because my father put my email on a lifelock account, which means that he may be alerted each time i log into my tumblr account. i use tumblr on the website on safari and i frequently log in and out because im anxious that my parents will check my search history, but they very rarely ever do. im testing if they get alerted right now by logging in to ao3 and c.ai, two websites that my parents likely wont be opposed to but would tell me and ask me about it if i got an alert. deleting my account is a last resort, but it is still on the table. this change is indefinite. i have backup plans in case my parents do get alerts from lifelock, but nothing is definite. i may continue on just fine, i might not. just giving y’all a heads up in case something does happen.

tl;dr my account may be discovered by my parents and i may be punished, maybe it wont. we’ll see

and does anyone know for sure if lifelock does send alerts about logging in tumblr accounts? please dont lie to me.

my mental health is hinging largely on my tumblr account and im praying sososo hard that i wont lose all of you wonderful, amazing people. this goes for the folks i have dmed and the ones i havent. but anyway. i love you all. thank you for the time youve given me, even if it wont be for much longer.

and heres another post copypaste:

hey folks i dont know if im gonna be posting for a hot minute because im at band practice rn but im gonna have the biggest fucking argument with my mom when i get home😍 i might get my phone taken away

so basically what happened is i told her im depressed and she blew me off and didnt believe me. she also did some other stuff. i may go into greater detail at a later date.

im sorry if this discomforts or tr_gg_rs anyone but i wanted to give an explanation and warning just in case i stop posting and interacting on tumblr

thank you all for being so wonderful, truly. i hope i can get my situation sorted out quickly and remain active.

i’ll probably update this post later on since im sure there’s something i forgot. check back with me every once in a while and i might have some new content on this post

thanks for reading 👍👍

[itsbeeble]

I saw your post about having Bang Chan brain rot and honestly, same. He has filled every waking thought I've had for the last year and I'm big mad over it.

So my fic rec is a little angsty/suggestive with him being as obsessed with y/n as we all are with him. Like, he's angry that he can't focus on work because he's too busy thinking about them but can't have them for whatever reason. All the features he possesses that we love that he can't see in himself are exactly what draws him to y/n. (I feel like crushing on Chan is an exercise in learning to love yourself, and that's a lesson he needs to learn as well).

WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO ME I LITERALLY FELL TO THE FLOOR WHEN I FIRST SAW IT (that first statement is so real actually)

OBSESSIVE

Summary: Chan has always been obsessed with you, but he's been too afraid to act on it until now.

Genre: Angst, fluff

Pairing: bestfriend!Bang Chan x (implied)fem!reader

Warnings: a little angsty but mostly fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive, some uhhh sexual themes but there's no actual smut or anything, small make out scene teehee, swearing, insecurities briefly mentioned, I think that's it

WC: 2462

18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

A/N: guys look it didn't take me 10 years to post! Also i'm gonna add to my masterlist a "Brainrot" section bc i'm not officially gonna write for certain groups but fuck do i get brainrot

~

Chan is restless in his studio, staring at the walls in front of him unable to focus. He can’t get his brain to work, to think, to do something. 

It’s your fault. He knows it’s your fault, but he can’t figure out why. Had you said something to him? Had you done something? 

No. The answer is no, you hadn’t done anything to him. At least not technically. 

In fact, it’s more him that's the problem.

It’s almost unhealthy the way he’s obsessed with you. Unhealthy and almost annoying considering that you hardly ever give him the light of day. 

Chan adores you. Adores the way you don’t care about what anyone else thinks of you, the way you laugh too loudly, the way your nose crinkles when you smile, and the way you can hold conversations so easily. He adores the way you never seem to care about looking put together, dressing in whatever you find comfortable that day, and somehow still looking beautiful. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way about anyone before. He hates the swirling in his stomach, the way his heart beats faster, and the way he can always tell when you’re close to him whether you want him to know or not. Chan can always tell from the smell of your perfume, that sweet, subtle scent you’ve worn since the day you met him in your days as trainees. 

These emotions…he shouldn’t be feeling them. Not about you, his best friend. His confidant. The one person he can trust to always be there for him, for everything. He’s tried so hard to will these emotions away, to force himself to like other people. He’s tried hookups, blind dates, dating apps. He’s tried imagining it was his grandmother instead of you whenever his thoughts dive into dangerous territory. 

And no, the grandmother thoughts didn’t work. His thoughts kept returning to you, how you would look under him. How you would look with your hair splayed out, your hand cupping his cheeks, and your lips sending him the sweet smile that you seem to reserve for him.

Fuck, he’s doing it again.

Chan takes a deep breath, sipping at the day-old water and grimacing at the stale taste in his mouth. His computer screen is still blank, the screen off from the time he’s spent staring into space and thinking of you. 

A knock on the door and then you’re slipping in quietly with a plastic go-cup filled with iced coffee. 

“Hey.”

Your greeting is simple, but you flash that smile and Chan’s heart starts doing flips. He hates it. He hates that you make him feel this way, hates that he gets nervous whenever you’re around. 

He feels you at his side, your arm on the back of his chair, fingertips brushing against his shoulder and sending jolts of electricity down his spine. He turns his head, angling his neck to look up at you. 

You with your calm eyes, with your gentle brushes against his skin, and the way you somehow soothe the storm that you caused inside of him. 

The cup in your hand is angled toward him, and he shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t be drinking that, you know,” it’s almost instinctive how he scolds you, a frown on his face when you just roll your eyes and pull the cup away from him. “Especially right now. You should be asleep, Y/N.” 

“So should you,” you hum, rolling your shoulders back and wincing when something cracks. 

“I’m working.” He nods his head at the computer, and you raise an eyebrow at the black screen.

“I can see that. Working very hard, just like you always are.”

Your hand raises to his head, ruffling the soft strands of hair. Chan clicks his tongue and pulls away from you. Your hand drops down to your side, and your small drops slightly. Barely noticeable, but enough for Chan to feel a pang in his chest. He rolls his chair back slightly, spinning it to face you. You pull a chair up, sitting directly across from him, and delicately place your coffee in an empty space on his crowded desk. 

Chan feels your knees brush against his, and heat scorches his body again. Why do you do this to him? Is it on purpose? Do you know he loves you more than a best friend should?

“Are you okay, Channie?” You lean toward him, the open part of your button-down shirt dipping to expose more skin. You would think he’s never been around a woman before.

He clears his throat, tries to look at you, and then clears his throat again. You’re biting at your lip now your eyebrows furrowed together in thought. 

He leans away from you when you lean toward him. Your knees are between his thighs now, unbeknownst to you but he is all too aware of it. You rise from your chair, coming closer to him and standing between his legs. One of his hands twitches, fighting to raise just a little bit to touch the side of your leg. 

“You seem a little feverish,” your hand is cold against his skin, and he almost chokes on the air he’d been struggling to inhale without the sweet scent of you overpowering his lungs and making him do unthinkable things. Your lips are twisted into a pout, your hand moving to his forehead and then his cheek. 

It takes Chan a moment to realize that he’s grabbed your wrist. 

It takes another moment for him to realize that his lips are against the back of your hand. 

Another moment and you haven’t pushed him away. Is it shock? Are you too disgusted to do anything? Fuck, why did he have to do that?

“Y/N—” he’s stumbling over his words, trying to grasp any thought that runs through his brain. An apology, hopefully. “I’m so— I didn’t mean—” 

Your lips are on his before he can say another word. It was a quick, fleeting kiss. Heat of the moment, maybe. 

You pull back, just far enough to look him in the eyes. 

Chan opens his mouth, ready to speak again.

The door slams shut. The space you stood in is empty. Chan’s heart sinks to his stomach, his skin still warm where you touched him.

“Fuck”

~

It’s three days before Chan hears from or sees you. Three days of absolute radio silence. No one forcing him to stop working, to look away from the screen and lay on the couch for a while. No wild laughter, random coffee dates. Nothing, and he knows why.

He knows you’ve been avoiding him. It’s not that difficult to figure it out. Whatever happened that night…it scared both of you. What frustrates him isn’t the subtle rejection. No, he could never be mad at you for that. He loves you too much to be angry about that. 

No, he’s mad about the fact that you’re running from this. You who regularly gets into heated arguments with the staff when they’re working him and the other members too hard. You who always accepts when you’re in the wrong, actively seeking a solution. You who has never had problems with communicating your emotions. He’s angry that the one time he needs you to communicate with him, you disappear. Now, after three days of you avoiding him, he isn’t quite sure he wants to see you anymore. He wouldn’t have minded if you told him you hated him for what happened.

Radio silence is…quite possibly the last thing he expected.

A knock on his door jolts him out of his thoughts. Three raps, then two, and the door opens. He knows it’s you by the shuffling of your feet against the ground and the sound of ice against plastic. You come to stand near him. Not next to him, no, it’s like you can sense the anger in him.

Or you can hear the angry typing. 

“What are you working on?” Your voice is quiet, so quiet that he almost doesn’t catch it. 

He doesn’t respond, at least not at first. The typing doesn’t slow, and he hears a small exhale from you. 

“Chan?” Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder and the typing stops. You drop your hand to your side, biting your tongue and forcing the tears back. “Channie, can you please talk to me?” He turns to look at you, trying to hold back all of the emotions he’s been feeling these past three days. 

“About what?” He plays dumb. Maybe if he acts like nothing happened, you’ll just drop it and you can start avoiding each other and he can move on from you. 

“About…about what happened.” Your voice shakes, and he almost feels bad. 

Scratch that, he does feel bad. 

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about.” Chan dismisses, “You made it clear how you feel and that’s fine. We can forget about it.” He avoids your gaze now, but he hears a sniffle coming from you. Hears a sob that you made a poor attempt at concealing. He looks at you again, and your hand is over your mouth while you try to calm yourself. He bites the side of his tongue, closing his eyes and exhaling heavily. 

“Come here,” he raises his hand and lazily beckons you over to him. You don’t move at first, still focused on calming yourself. “Y/N, come here.” 

Your steps are slow, almost nervous about approaching him, and suddenly all the anger is washed away from Chan’s body. All he can think about is the fact that he’s made you cry, made you upset, and he wants to fix it. 

“Why are you crying, pretty?” You’re standing in front of him, all too similarly to three days ago. Your cup has been placed to the side again, next to his keyboard, and your hands are in his. 

“I feel like…” your voice is thick with emotion, tears rolling down your cheeks that Chan wants nothing more than to kiss away. “I feel like I messed everything up.”

“How could you possibly think that?” Your best friend frowns. 

“I— I kissed you.” Your sentences are stuttered. “I fe—feel like I me—messed everyth—everything up. You— You’re my bes—best friend, Channie.” 

“Look at me,” he holds his hand to your chin, tilting your head to look down at him. “You did nothing wrong. In case you forgot, I kissed you first.”

“But that was diffe—different!” You cry, yanking your hands out of his grip and turning your back on him. Chan rises from his chair, carefully watching your movements. “I kissed you!” 

He’s curious now. “Do you think I hate you because of that?” 

You turn around, and a gasp escapes you. He’s only a few inches from you, his breath kissing your cheeks. You can see a dark tinge on his tanned skin. Was he blushing? Was he mad? 

“I— I mean—” Chan steps toward you again, practically backing you into the wall.

“Because you’d be wrong,” he continues. “In fact, it’s probably made me even worse.” 

What? “Chan— what does that—”

“I’ve been obsessed with you from the day that I met you, Y/N.” Here goes nothing. Chan takes a deep breath before continuing. “Everything you do, everything you say. I’m addicted to you. You know, I couldn’t tell at first if I envied you. It was the way you carried yourself, the confidence you had in every little thing. The way you fought so hard for the things that you loved and the people you cared about. I thought I envied the way you could laugh as loud as you wanted without fearing what other people thought of you.” 

You’re against the wall now, but he hasn’t caged you in. No, he leaves you room to escape should you so choose. Your tears have stopped and Chan reaches up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the streaks that were left. 

“I was wrong.” His voice is so quiet, so much quieter than he probably intended it to be, but it has a zoo erupting in your stomach. “It wasn’t envy.”

“Then what was it?” Your voice matches his in volume, your eyes flicking from his lips and back up to meet his gaze. He takes a deep breath, relishing in the feeling of your cold hands twisting into the fabric of his shirt, your knuckles brushing against the skin of his stomach. “Channie?” 

The way you said his name should’ve been innocent. It should have just grabbed his attention, snapped him out of the spell you’ve cast on him. 

The air is knocked out of your chest at the first touch of his lips on yours. It isn’t rough, not by any means. 

His lips move smoothly against yours, slow and sure of every move he wants to make as if he’s always going to be two steps ahead of you. One of his hands slides down to cup the back of your head, right at the base to allow him to angle your head and pull your body closer to his. Your hands have tightened into his cotton t-shirt, holding so tightly you’re positive the fabric has stretched. 

Your chest is on fire, whether from lack of breath or the emotions running through you like wildfire, you aren’t sure, but you don’t want to stop. You can’t stop. Not when he tastes so good, not when he’s kissing you like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing. 

A whine escapes you, and you feel his body go rigid. His lips stop moving, and he pulls back from you. You see his chest stuttering as he tries to stop himself from taking deep breaths. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you for a long time. 

You don’t have to, though. The drawings he traces into your hip with his finger and the hazy, starstruck look in his eye says enough.

His eyes meet yours when you clear your throat to get his attention. 

“So,” your voice is slightly hoarse but you can’t find yourself caring. Not in front of Chan. “You never answered my question.” He bends down, his lips lightly pressing into the skin of your neck. Your breathing hitches, and you feel him smile against you. 

“What question was that?” He asks, and his voice is right in your ear, and you can’t help but pull him closer to you.

“What was it that you felt?” 

He just laughs against you, finally taking his hand out of your hair. 

“You know what it was, pretty. Don’t pretend.”

You smile, your arm coming to wrap around the back of his neck. 

Love. It was love, and you knew it the whole time.

[minniesmutt]

ur writing is amazing so i'm gonna send a request

straykids challenge y/n and seungmin to not come when they f4ck and whoever comes first has to buy the whole dorm a meal

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: SEUNGMIN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: TEASING, HAND JOB, ORAL (M. REC + F. REC), 69, CLIT PLAY, SPIT, FACE SITTING, FACE RIDING, UNPROTECTED SEX, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, CREAMPIE ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.3K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     “Do you know how many towels you two go through?” Minho asked the couple

     “You think I count?” Seungmin retorted

     “It’s too many.”

     “Do you guys not have a designated cum towel?” Hyunjin asked

     “I was under the impression there was,” Y/n said, glancing at her boyfriend

     “Why would I have just one towel for our cum?”

     “Because you guys fuck like rabbits and it’s showing on the water bill,” Minho answered

     “That’s Seungmin’s fault,”  Y/n defended

     “You are just as bad as me,” Seungmin said

     “We know, trust us,” Jeongin sighed

     “I’m glad I don’t live in this dorm,” Han sighed

     “You two need to either stop fucking so much or use one towel,” Minho said

     “Or both,”  Changbin said

     “Whichever one of you cums first next time you’re going at it has to buy the rest of us dinner,” Han said

     “Okay, let’s not place bets on their sex life,” Chan said

     “Deal,” Seungmin agreed

     “I did not agree to this,” Y/n said

     “It’s a chance of a free meal,” Hyunjin said

     Y/n shrugged and agreed. Much to  Chan’s dismay, the rest of the group knew they’d be getting a free meal out of it. 

     When everyone turned in for the night, the whole group knew what would happen. Seungmin was on her as soon as the door to his room closed. He was pulling her to him as he leaned against the door. 

     Seungmin smiled, pressing his lips to hers. Y/n returned the kiss and wrapped her arms around him as he leaned against the door. His hands rested on her ass as their lips tangled together. Gently walking her back to their bed. Y/n pulled her lips away from his and attached them to his neck. 

     “Careful, remember,” Seungmin reminded her

     “I know,” Y/n said and ran her hands up his shirt.

     Seungmin smiled pulled the fabric off and tossed it to the ground. Y/n smiled and slowly sank to her knees, kissing and sucking on her boyfriend's skin till she was kneeling in front of him. Pulling down his sweatpants and kissing his hard-on over his boxers. 

     Seungmin pulled her head back to look up at him. Y/n smiled as she pulled the fabric down, his hard-on popping out. “What are you doing pup?”

     “Taking care of you,” Y/n smiled as she wrapped her hand around him and slowly pumped him. 

     “What if I want to take care of you first?”

     “Same time?” Y/n suggested 

     Seungmin agreed before helping her up and stripping their clothes away. Seungmin lay down on the bed. Y/n smiled as she positioned herself over his face. She leaned down over his dick. Seungmin pulled her down on his face fully as she wrapped her hand around him again. 

     Seungmin licked up from her clit to her entrance as she wrapped her lips around his tip. Both moaning from the contact. Y/n took more of him into her mouth. Seungmin’s lips wrapped around her cot and lightly sucked on the bud. 

     A competitive back-and-forth started. Both kept the little challenge in their mind as they sucked each other. Determined to make the other cum first. 

     Y/n moaned around her boyfriend’s cock as his tongue rolled across her bud. Seungmin smiled at the reaction as he moved his tongue into her. Tongue thrusting into her as his hand moved, thumb rolling along her clit. The next moan she let out caused him to moan too. She popped off him for a moment and let a glob of her spit drip onto his shiny cock. Using her hand to spread it down his length. 

     Seungmin had to pause for a moment when she took him into her throat, her hand gently massaging his balls as he went back to eating her out. Y/n moaned around him as she bobbed her head up and down, tongue swirled around him as he fucked his tongue in and out of her. Fingers stimulating the little bud between them. Both of them bucking their hips toward the other. 

     “Fuck pup,” Seungmin groaned behind her.

     Y/n picked up her pace just a bit at the sound of his groans while he tongue fucked her. She clenched around his tongue ever so slightly as his dick twitched in her mouth. She used her hand to pump his base to get him there faster. It was working.

     She kept up as she felt him pull his tongue out and moan, cumming in her mouth moments later. Y/n smiled to herself as she milked him. Taking every last drop from him before pulling his dick out of her mouth and sat up a bit. Getting off his face and turning to him

     “Get back on my face,” Seungmin told her as he tried pulling her back

     Y/n smiled and let him pull her back on top of him. He let out a sigh before going back to eating her out. Y/n grabbed the headboard as his tongue slipped into her again. His nose pressed nicely against her clit. Y/n moaned as his hands moved up and groped her breasts. Y/n looked down at her boyfriend, eyes peering up at her as he toyed with her nipples. Y/n smiled at him as she rocked her hips against him. 

     “Good pup,” Seungmin groaned.

     “Want you in, Minnie please,” Y/n begged him. 

     The singer hummed and moved his hands to hold her down against his face so she couldn’t move except to grind on his face. Listening to her moan his name till she came on his tongue. Grabbing his wrists as he ate her out through her high. Letting her ride his face till she was almost spent. Seungmin gently helped her down from his face and laid her on her back as he got between her legs. 

     Seungmin pressed his lips to hers as he rubbed her hips. Y/n moaned and moved her lips with his. Moving her arms around his neck. “Okay to keep going?” he asked 

     “Yes,” Y/n answered

     Seungmin smiled and pulled her legs over his hips. Y/n locked her ankles together as he pushed the tip into her. Sinking into her and kissing her neck. “Always so fucking good for me.”

     “Move min,” Y/n moaned

     “And needy,” Seungmin teased as he thrusted into her. Enjoying every moan coming from her was music to his ears. He picked up his pace till he knew he was going at the right pace for her. Especially by the way she tugged on his hair and scratched his back. 

     Her sensitive walls pulsed around him with each thrust. Y/n could already feel her next orgasm approaching rapidly. Seungmin sat up and hovered over her. Grabbing her hands from his back and pinning them to the mattress. “Gonna cum for me again pup?” Seungmin groaned

     “Yes! So close Minnie!” Y/n moaned. 

     “Yeah. Gonna make a mess all over my cock?”

     “Yes!”

     Y/n tightened around him and gripped his hands tighter. Cursing and arching off the bed as her orgasm took over her body again. Seungmin fucked through her high, working towards his own, trying not to ruin hers until her body relaxed against the bed. The idol buried himself inside her as he came. His head falling as his cum painted her walls. Cursing as he rode it out, giving her a few more thrusts then pulling out once he was done

     “All good pup?” Y/n asked as he laid himself on her chest

     “Yeah just give me a second.”

     Y/n smiled and ran her fingers through his hair before he got up. He pulled his boxers up, put her in one of his sweaters, and brought her to the bathroom to clean up. 

     “One towel!” Lee Know yelled through the wall. Y/n laughed as her boyfriend turned on the shower for them and then went to grab them a change of clothes. 

     “How long till they bring up the bet?” Y/n asked when he came back.

     “Jeongin already texted the group chat saying I lost,” Seungmin told her

     “Teasing you too?” Y/n asked as they got  in the shower 

     “Yeah, but I get laid and they don’t so I don't care.”

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[tulip-room]

: ̗̀➛Is That All?☄. *. ⋆

"If you're going to pull it, at least do it right."

words. 1.8k of pure filth

warnings. fem reader, love and pretty girl as pet names, p in v, probably too much foreplay, uprotected (wrap it before you tap it), teasing, edging, a hint of dacryphilia, HAIR PULLING, maybe more- this is pure filth.

minors, ageless, and blank blogs dni. You are being warned right now that this is not for you. Do not interact. I will block you. Do NOT proceed. smut under the cut.

Geto was always quick to get what he wanted. I mean it was so easy, you hardly put up a fight. Why would you? That’s how you get into situations like these.

The girls were over at a friend’s house for a sleepover, and you had been oh so sweet today. You with your little apron tied around your waist, you bending over the counter to wipe it off from a baking mishap earlier that day. That’s when he struck. He pressed his hips to your ass and grabbed hold of your waist. A small yelp leaves your lips. “Sugu- “you start but are quickly shushed.

“Be quiet, you just looked so divine today. Couldn’t help myself.” He leans over so his front is flush with your back, you can hear him growl the words into your ear. His hot breath and wandering hands filling you with urgency. He squeezed lightly at your hips and undid the sweet bow of your apron quickly.

You moan but bite your lip as you gently rut back onto him. He lets out a broken moan of his own and starts grinding against you. “Don’t get too many ideas, love.” The name is said teasingly, warning you not to press your luck too far. You whine and try to circle your hips. He bites his lip to keep a shaky breath hidden and wraps his arms entirely around your waist. He lifts you up from the counter and reaches a hand down. His hand pressing against the rough fabric of your jeans. 

Your head tosses back onto his shoulder as he presses the seam of the pants right against your clit. He sees you biting your lips and tsks at you. “Love, none of that.” He stops and reaches up with the hand that was just touching you. His thumb plucks your lip from between your teeth and doesn’t move. “Hold back again and we won’t get to the fun part of the evening. And we would want that would we love?”

You shake your head, and he pats your cheek as you look up at him through your lashes. His hand goes back down and while he rubs the rough seem of the jeans against you, he ruts against your ass. The movements only serving to nudge you rougher into his hand. “Sugu,” you say breathlessly, chest rising and falling quickly.

He chuckles and kisses your head. “Close.” And just like that he stops. You whine and thrash trying to chase after his hand as it leaves. “Why?” 

“Can’t have the fun ending early, can we?” He sets you down on shaky legs and helps you fully out of your apron. You stumble a little as you walk to the bedroom, but his arm is there to keep you up. He is the perfect image of calm and collected while your eyes are glazed over, and you stumble around. 

When you finally reach your room (when did that hallway get so long?) you lay down on the bed and with shaky breaths unbutton your jeans. “Not just yet.” He tuts at you and grabs hold of your hands. You whine and pout at him. “Soon.” 

He crawls between your legs and cages you in with hand hands on either side of your head. He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You gasp a little in surprise and his tongue finds its way past your lips. He hums as your tongues fight and when he pulls back there’s a shiny string of spit still connecting the two of you. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip and the string breaks. 

“I forget how gorgeous you look like this. All desperate for me.” He leans his head down and makes a trail of kisses from your jaw to your neck. 

“I guess,” you gasp as he sucks at the skin, teeth gently nipping. “I guess, you’ll have to be reminded more often.” You say between shaky breaths as he sucks dark marks into your skin. Your hands rest gently in his hair and a sick thought comes to your head. 

You tangle your fingers deeper in his locks and give a gentle tug. He lifts his head up and smirks. “If you’re going to pull it, at least do it right.” He reaches his own hand in your hair and pulls roughly. A strangled moan leaving your mouth as he chuckles darkly. “See, do it properly or not at all.” Your breath hitches and you blink up at him dumbly. “Well?”

You swallow and lick your lips as his hand helps guide your own. To the nape of his neck where you grab a fistful of hair and tug, you watch with desire as his head flings back and a moan comes past his kiss bitten lips. 

He lets your hands stay in his hair as he travels down to where your shirt has ridden up. He kisses the patch of skin free to him and admires how goosebumps form. How your body jumps and tries to chase his fleeting lips as they press gentle, feather kisses to your skin. You can feel the heat in your stomach grow as he nudges the shirt up, letting it pull above your chest.

He pulls your boob from your bra and attaches his mouth to the bud. His tongue circling it as it hardens in his mouth. You grip his hair tightly and roll your hips to try and get more stimulation. He presses a hand to your pelvis and pushes your hips back down onto the plush covers of the bed. “Sugu, please.” You beg and he must take pity on you as he removes his mouth from your boob and sits you up. He helps you remove your shirt and bra fully, kissing the skin in the wake of his touch.

He unzips your jeans and helps you shimmy them off of your legs. Left in your panties and he starts slipping off his robes. You watch with bated breath and dazed eyes as his body is exposed to you. No matter how many times you see it you will never not be in awe of your boyfriend. 

He pulls your underwear to the side and grabs the lube from the drawer. He warms it up in his hand and spreads it across three of his fingers. He gently works one finger into your hole, and you tense up slightly. He bends down and kisses you. “Relax.” He whispers against your lips and after a few minutes of working the finger in and out gently pushes a second one in alongside it with practiced ease. 

He pushes them as far as they can go and curls them up. Your legs shake and your hips jolt up as you moan with bated breath. He chuckles against you as he bites and kisses your lips. He rubs his fingers along your walls. In and out. In. And out.

The third finger goes in smoother than the others, but he shushes you gently all the same. “Close,” you warn, and you wish you hadn’t. He stops moving and presses on your pelvis when your hips start thrashing. “Sugu! No, please.” You beg pathetically as tears start welling in your eyes.

“Aww, it’s okay love.” He coos as his fingers sit still inside of you. They twitch gently and he feels you tighten around his hand. His tongue darts out and licks across his lips. “It’ll all be worth it.” You sniffle and he kisses away the tears that start to fall from your eyes. 

Once you calm down and he feels you relax around his fingers he starts moving them again. He curls them every now and then which makes you moan deliciously. He stretches them apart and you lift your hips to try and get away from his fingers, but his hand just chases them. After what seems like a torturously long time of him slowly dragging his fingers in and out of you, he pulls them out completely. Your hole clenches around nothing and you whine at the loss.

He chuckles and kisses you again. “Now, now. Be patient love.” He rubs the head of his dick against your opening. A glob of precum now smearing against both of you and he moans at the feeling. Slowly he starts pushing into you. The head sliding in, and he groans as he rests his arms on either side of you. His hand reaching up and his sullied fingers resting against your lips. “Clean these for me.” 

You open your mouth, and he wastes no time shoving his fingers in. You moan at the taste and swirl your tongue around his fingers as he continues to slowly push into you. He stops halfway and it makes you whine; you hadn’t even realized your eyes had fallen shut. “Doing so good love, only a little more.” You nod your head; you hadn’t even realized he had gotten so far. Mind too preoccupied with sucking his fingers. 

Finally, his hips rest flush against your own and he pulls his fingers from your mouth. “Did so good love,” he whispers as his head rests in the crook of your neck. His lips making gentle kisses there. He stays still for a moment as he feels your walls tighten and relax around him. His dick twitching inside of you and making you moan. The tip sits right at the perfect spot. 

Finally, he starts to pull out until only the head is left inside of you. He slams his hips back to yours and both of you moan at the action. “Sugu! Not gonna last long.” You whine and he nods his head against you. 

“I know love. Just so pathetic.” He bites and sucks at your skin as he roughly slams into you. Sliding against your soft and plush walls. He feels you tighten around him again and his fingers pinch at your nipple. He tugs gently and your head lolls back. His other hand sliding between the two of your sweat slicked bodies to find your clit. 

His thumb making rough circles to match his pace as your mouth drops open. “Such a whore. Mine though. Say it.” 

“Yes,” you whisper out. Breathless and on the edge of falling over your climax. 

“Yes, what?” He teases and kisses your temple.

“I’m your whore Suguru.” You moan and your hands find solace in his hair again as you grip at the locks. 

“Let go for me love.” Your eyes flutter shut, and your legs shake as he feels you tighten around him. Your hands tug at his hair without meaning too and his head tilts back with a moan. His dick twitches and he cums inside of you. The two of you lay there breathless for a moment before he slowly pulls out. “I’ll be back, okay? Just a moment.” He leaves and comes back with a damp washcloth to wipe you off. 

He kisses your skin softly as he wipes you down. “We’ll take a shower in a little bit.” You nod, eyes still closed and chest still heaving. He pulls you into his arms after throwing the cloth into the hamper and kisses your forehead. “Did so good my love.”

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[coveted-covey]

a/n: minors please don't interact. blank and ageless blogs are going to be blocked. 🚶‍♀️ this was supposed to be posted a month ago but I got stuck 1.6k words in. literally that one bake off meme except it went like "started writing it. had a month's long block. but here it is now so bon appetit." ...anyways!

cw: Cove and reader are 23 (step 4 age!), established relationship, making out, some s*xual tension (note sure if this cw is needed), multiple mentions of alcohol and reader drinking/getting drunk, slightly OOC!Cove, but I totally see him doing it if push comes to shove and so here we are… or maybe I’m just projecting! :D this is also not beta read. but either way, enjoy! let me know if I missed anything else in the tags.

Word count: 2,016

You're 97% certain that you're going crazy. 

That or there's something in the air, but whatever it is you realize that you don't really care. Nothing comes close to the urgency that is Cove James Holden.

With spasming hands, you grab ahold of his hair as you try to breathe in between the small gaps that you afford yourself. When that becomes insufficient, you press yourself further into his personal space.

“[Name], w-wait–” Cove gasps as you bite his lower lip. “Let's go inside first–” 

You stop your assault of his mouth, replacing it with your gentle thumb instead. Cove’s brain is short-circuiting and your rapt attention at his lips is absolutely not helping. You giggle as you tug his lips down with your thumb. “Your lips are so swollen, baby.” 

He lets out a groan of half-embarassment and half-wantonness. “I shouldn't have let you drink tonight.” Realizing that he should use the opportunity of you not pressing your own to his lips as of yet, he quickly grabs his keys from his pocket then opens the door of his apartment.

The low creaking of the door captures your attention, then you dangerously swerve as you snap your attention back to him. “Ahh, here it is! Homeee~” you drawl.

He grabs your waist as you almost bump to one of his floormates passing through the corridor. “[Name], be quiet,” he mutters lowly then quickly apologizes to the old lady, cheeks reddening. If it could go any redder at this point, that is.

He leads you inside and you lean your full weight against him. He didn’t even stagger. You would have marvelled at his strength if had you been paying attention, but alas you were briefly distracted by the little to no light that welcomed you as you stepped into the threshold.

“It's so dark here. Why is it so dark?” You whine. 

Cove shuts the door then puts down your bags beside his shoe rack. He wordlessly flicks the light switch on then turns to you. “Sit down here for a second.” 

“Hmm?” Your eyes blink at the blue lounge chair he's patting. When you make no move, he gently sits you down then moves to take off your shoes.

You stare at him, eyes slightly unfocused. “Hey…”

“Yes, [Name]?” He looks up at you from the floor and you giggle.

You lean into his ear. “You look good kneeling.”

“God.” 

Cove looks up then mutters something underneath his breath. He closes his eyes shut, lips in a deep frown and brows furrowing despite the bright blush on his cheeks. You're going to be the death of him.

A beat passes.

He clears his throat. “I’m gonna help you change your clothes and then I’m putting you to bed, okay? Come on,” he gives you his hand to help you up, but you lightly swat his hand away.

“Nooo, I want a piggyback ride!” 

Cove tries to think back to the first time you got yourself this inebriated. Except nothing comes close to mind. There was that one time your parents let you have wine on your 18th birthday, but that was in the privacy of your own home, and you were not allowed to stay up with Cove with just the both of you. With all things considered, then, this would be the first time. He has half a mind to call the Last’s but didn’t, considering the both of you are full-grown adults at this point and he’s capable of taking care of you tonight.

He is… right?

Your head lolls a bit to the side, then leans back next to his head. “You’re so warm,” you hummed as you tightened your arms around his shoulders.

“You are, too. I’m gonna put you down now, ‘kay?”

Your lips tremble, your intoxicated mind irrationally offended with the thought of him going away from you. You hiccup. “Are you mad at me?” Another hiccup. “Don’t let go, please?”

“[N-name], are you crying? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” he tries to look at you, but human heads can only turn up to a certain angle. “I won’t go away, I promise. I’m just gonna let you down on the bed.”

You sniffle, nodding despite Cove not facing you. “Okay…”

You feel what you can only assume as his mattress beneath you as he deposits you down onto the soft covers. You come face to face with his worried face as he examines your countenance with his hands on both sides.

“Don’t cry,” he swipes his thumb at a stray tear, his heart breaking at the sight of your red-rimmed eyes and trembling lips. “I think you’re underestimating your own importance in my life,” he lets out a sad chuckle. “I’ll never, ever, let you go out of my own accord. You’re it for me. My soulmate, the love of my life. I’ll spend forever loving you if I could. So don’t cry, okay? Honestly you would have to be the one to decide if you get sick of me at some point, and only then will I consider leaving you. But until then—and God knows leaving you, ever, is not what I would want—I’m yours.”

He ends his speech with a tender kiss on your forehead.

Being reasonably touched and rightfully overwhelmed at your boyfriend’s reaffirmation of his love aside, it seems like the alcohol is affecting you so much worse than you would have liked. It’s getting embarrassing and sober you would definitely hit yourself upside the head with how ridiculous you’re reacting.

You start sobbing.

“Waaaahh, I love you so, so, so much!” you wail as you bury your face on his stomach, hugging him in a vice grip. Cove can only hug you as tight as your positions can allow him, rubbing your back soothingly as he tries his best to calm you down.

A couple minutes of uncontrolled sobbing and you getting helped by Cove to get cleaned up for bed later, you’re now snug under his covers, waiting for him to come back from the kitchen to get a fresh glass of cold water.

“Here you go,” he puts the glass on the sidetable and you sit up to drink it. You gulp down the refreshing water in no time.

Having calmed down from the blindsiding, alcohol-driven, emotional outburst earlier, you can only look at him sheepishly as you are hit with sudden clarity. “I’m sorry for the, uh, sorry for being unreasonable earlier. I’m 100% blaming the alcohol,” you laugh lightly. You try to ignore the urge to pinch yourself out of embarrassment.

“Are you feeling better now?” he gives you such a heavy look that you can’t help but find the texture of his covers particularly interesting. Great, now you’ve disappointed him.

 “Yes, yes, I do. I’m really sorry about earlier, I was probably being a bother. I’m not sure I will swear off alcohol completely, but I’ll try to keep it to an ultra reasonable amount and not end up being completely hammermpgh—”

Cove leans forward and takes your lips against his own, shutting you up and pushing you back down on the bed in the process. “Don’t misunderstand, you can do whatever you want as long as you’re not totally endangering yourself and I will take care of you, but it seems like we’re still not seeing eye to eye in one crucial thing.”

Your head still reeling from the kiss, you can only open and close your mouth like a silly guppy. “W-what—”

“You’re not being a bother to me. Not ever,” he frowns, peeved at, and saddened by you downplaying yourself. “You never have to apologize for the things that I do for you because I love you and you’d do the same thing for me in a heartbeat.”

“But I—”

The rest of your sentence was interrupted by your beloved boyfriend leaning in once again to capture your lips in another searing kiss. “None of that,” he murmurs from above you, and your heart starts to race at the palpable tension between the two of you. “Do you understand, [Name]?”

You take in his state from above you, his eyebrows furrowed, pupils dilated, cheeks rosy pink, and lips deliciously swollen. You gulp as you feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“I-I do. I understand.”

“Good,” he whispers lowly, and you’ve never wanted to shriek so hard in your life. You try to look back in your whole relationship with your neighbor-turned-friend-turned-best friend-turned-childhood sweetheart-turned-boyfriend and try to pinpoint a time he was ever this… this… this INTENSE and HOT and you want to faint.

You think you are going to faint.

Presumably contented from your response, he finally pulls back and you’re left trying to settle your breathing. Before he can step away to get to his side of the bed, however, you abruptly sit up to grab at his sleeve.

“Wait.”

He stops, looking at you with questioning eyes. You almost balk but steel yourself, eyes glinting with newfound (and undoubtedly short-lived?) confidence. “Are you seriously going to leave like that?”

“Like what?” His wavy eyebrows rise and the edge of his lips curls up in a familiar way that basically told you that the jig is up. “Like what, baby? And for the record, you did look good underneath me.”

You can almost feel your ears blowing out smoke out of embarrassment. Did he just—

Well, two can play at that game.

You brace yourself harder then hit him with, “Well, if I looked so good, why don’t you do it again?”

He looks away, and you see the traces of his flush from his ear to neck becoming more and more vibrant.

Ah. There he is.

“A-aren’t you tired?”

With an unexpected gracefulness of a predator stalking its captured prey, you lean in close to his ear. “Not for you, I’m not.” Then you give him the most seductive look you can muster.

 He bites his lip and your eyes follow the movement. You watch as the gears turn in his head debating whether to be responsible and make you get some rest, or to give in to your temptation and give you what you want.

Breathing out shakily, he gently removes your grip from him and puts your hand on your lap. You look up at him in confusion. He smiles apologetically then gives you a tender kiss on the lips. “You need rest, [Name]. You had a long flight coming home.”

You huff and pout, conceding. “Okay… but I want my cuddles.”

He laughs softly at that. “And cuddles you will get.”

Cove then turns the overhead lights off in exchange for lampshade. Once settled under the covers, he also turns the remaining source of light off, and you immediately draw yourself to his warmth. His arms reach around you to pull you in closer. You sigh, content.

“I missed this. I missed you.”

Cove hums then gives you another affectionate kiss on the top of your head. He smiles as he pays attention to how perfect you feel against him, like two puzzle pieces finally being connected after so long of being apart.

“I missed you too, more that you’d ever imagine.”

You laugh lightly at that, giving a soft peck at his skin in front of you. Cove giggles, ticklish. “Not everything is a competition, Mr. Cove Holden.”

“Alright, alright,” he giggles, squeezing you closer to him. “Get some rest, [Name]. I love you.”

You smile to yourself as tiredness catches up to you and your eyelids become heavy. “I love—” You let out a small yawn that Cove also catches. You share another soft laughter, like two lovers sharing secrets under the blankets, a couple finally reuniting after a while of being apart.  “I love you, too.”

And with that, the two of you go into a peaceful slumber, with you vaguely thinking of getting back at him in the morning for not giving in to you earlier. Maybe he’ll be in for a surprise…

[airbendertendou]

Can you make gyeongsu x reader? Fluff or something like

AFTERNOON TiCKET! ♡ han gyeongsu

synopsis : you aren’t dating. why does everyone keep asking that?

pre-apocalypse

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

a head hits your shoulder as the noise of the cafeteria echoes around you. gyeongsu’s hair tickles your neck as you converse with suhyeok. he looks to your right and smirks before continuing to eat his lunch.

you jostle your right shoulder, only smiling at the unhappy groan you receive. “you have to eat, too, you know.”

gyeongsu lets out a huff, his chilled nose brushing against your neck as he stretches. sleepy eyes barely open, only prying his mouth open just slightly. you grin, holding the food up to his mouth so he can eat.

“so,” cheongsan eyes you both, “how long will it be now? a few months or…?”

you chew on the food in your mouth, placing some in gyeongsu’s right after. “for what?”

the table goes silent as gyeongsu sits up. he yawns, taking a sip of your drink before rubbing his eyes. “what are we talking about again?”

it’s daesu who answers despite the others telling him not to speak. “you’re dating.”

“well—“

the bell rings before gyeongsu can say more.

——♡——

you clean off the desks, eyes bouncing to gyeongsu and cheongsan as they giggle and sweep the floor. onjo nudges you as she walks by, a sly look on her face. isak trails up beside her, a damp washcloth swinging in her hands.

“so…”

you pause from your cleaning to look up at them. isak gestures to the gray hoodie you wear. “it’s official, then? this is how you tell everyone?”

your face heats immediately as you turn frantically, making sure your conversation wasn’t overheard. you pat their arms tenderly yet desperately. “shut up! shush, shhh!”

“sorry!” onjo giggles to herself as she pulls isak away. “have fun!”

gyeongsu stands behind you now, your bag and his slung over his shoulder. he looks over your figure, clad in his own hoodie with a grin. “ready to head home?”

you trek behind gyeongsu slowly, eyeing the way his empty hand swings. you ache to hold it — can feel the phantom touch of his fingers twining into your own. “date me.”

the words come out before you can stop them. gyeongsu pauses and you think you should take it back — say you hadn’t spoke at all. his head tilts and it’s so endearing you could cry.

“officially.” you pick at your nails nervously as gyeongsu stands in front of you. “be my boyfriend, please.”

gyeongsu’s mouth falls open before he snaps it back shut. he’s going to reject you, your throat closes up. you’ve ruined everything. “i— thought we were already dating.”

a confused silence bubbles around you now. gyeongsu stares at you as you stare at him. his fingers inch to yours and he grabs your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze with a smile. “the first time you held my hand on the way home. you were mine, i thought.”

you gulp, “oh.” and then you laugh, tugging him closer as your empty hand clutches onto his chest. “i think we’re stupid.”

gyeongsu deepens his voice dramatically, into a silly tone before placing his forehead to yours. “stupid in love.”

you shove him away with a grin, smile widening when he only brings you closer once more.

——♡——

he’s the perfect person for this trope me thinks <3 thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoyed!! if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any aouad content, let me know! ♡

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[melinoelliones]

Your parents had asked you to babysit your siblings on halloween night as they had, “an important seminar they had to attend” and “needed you to watch them”.... So who was the guy at the door?

MINORS DNI/AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ANTI DC DNI/18+

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Warnings: Brainwashing, quickie gone wrong (kinda), death, biting, no prep, dub con, tears, incubus, creampie?, rough sex! fem reader

2.3k words

Imma say this is Dark Content so if you do not like death, blurred lines between consent and no consent or no prep DO NOT READ THIS!! This is not for you i’m afraid. Sae is a incubus. I have never written this kind of thing before so don’t jump me ya’ll. 

“Ugh can you two shut up already, I’ve been dragged to every house in the neighbourhood, cut me some slack will ya” you groaned, throwing yourself onto the couch. Totally ignoring the trails of “but mom said” and “please” that followed behind you.

You had just got home from taking your younger siblings out for Trick or Treating as you did every year, however this was your first official break from starting Uni so you had hoped they’d let you off this time round. To be fair, there was never a dull moment with those two though you had to admit, even if they forced you to dress up with them.

Watching the two kids dressed as ghosts fling their tubs of candy all over the floor you sighed, “I hope you know I’m not cleaning all that up”. “Yeah yeah we know” they rolled their eyes in unison as they began their candy trade whilst you simply scrolled on your phone idly. 

“Stuck babysitting once again, never gets old” you mumbled to yourself, shifting your angel wings off your back and onto the floor. Your siblings had forced you to dress as an angel but you only agreed if you could pick the clothes. 

“Stop, you’re messing up our piles” your sister moaned, flinging them at your head on impulse. “HEY, STOP THAT OR I’LL HA~”, you were cut off as the doorbell rang. Your eyes turnt to the kids on the floor as if to ask if they knew who that was, yet you were met with two matching pairs of clueless eyes.

You all stayed frozen as the rings continued, over and over again until you mustered up the courage to walk over to the front door, your heart pounding out of your chest at this point as your hand hovered over the knob. Who could be at the door at this time, your house was the only one on the block that didn’t have major decorations so people knew to not come knocking.

Slowly turning the doorknob the door flew open causing you to step back a bit, standing a foot away from you was a boy who looked about your age, staring pure daggers at you. “Wrong house maybe?” you questioned sarcastically, pure vim rolling off the tongue as you retook a step forward. Who was he anyway?

“Definitely the right house” the boy scoffed, looking you up and down as he continued “I’m the babysitter, and by the looks of it, I was needed”. You stood dumbfounded as he swerved straight past you and into your living room, turning to face him you retorted, “Wait a minute, you can’t just waltz up into people's houses like that, who even are you?”.

“Sae, the babysitter as I said a second ago, now hurry up and shut the door” he huffed, scanning the cluttered floor. “Oh yeah did mom and dad not tell you? They hired a babysitter", your brother spoke up before going back to his candy exchange. “Weren’t saying that when we were statues two minutes ago were ya. Didn’t wanna mention that huh?” you sighed, face planting your hand before shutting the door behind you. 

Why would your parents hire a babysitter if they knew you were staying the night? You weren’t a little kid anymore, what was the point of that? Not to mention the dude didn’t look like he’d be good with people in general, let alone kids, where’d they even find him. 

You watched as Sae strolled across the room scanning it thoroughly, same blank face plastered on his face as before, “well then? Start cleaning up this trash, it's late”. You stood behind the couch, since he’s the babysitter tonight you thought ‘maybe I’ll get a break after all’.

The twins scoured the man with looks of disgust as he barked orders almost immediately, “and who are you to tell us what to do?” “We are in the middle of a candy exchange”. “They got a point” you sniggered under your breath, turning away sharply as he glared at you. 

“I won’t ask you again, sort this out.” the guy ordered, hovering over the two as if they were ants. Should you step in? You weren’t the babysitter but maybe that was a bit harsh. As you went to tap him from behind the twins nodded, beginning to tidy away their candy in silence. 

“Now how did that work?” you muttered to yourself, you’d have to bribe them with a year's supply of goods to even get them to brush their teeth, let alone tidy up while they're in the middle of doing something. “And why aren’t you helping them?” Sae asked, back still to you as the kids hurried to pack away their candy. 

“Umm, maybe because I don’t need a babysitter, nor do I need a strange pink haired boy telling me what I should and shouldn’t do in my own house” you pointed out. What was not clicking for this guy; first he comes to the house unannounced and now he's barking orders? What is going on today, where did your parents even find this guy, maybe if yall met at a party you could have hit it off but God was he rubbing you up the wrong way right now.

You heard a faint sigh from him as he took a step to the side before pointing at the staircase, “N’ go on, I don’t even want to see your faces till your parents get back”. Your face showed an expression of pure disbelief as you watched your siblings almost march up the stairs with a simple “okay, goodnight”, no rebuttal, no fight back, just compliance. 

As you tried to comprehend the scene that just played out before you, Sae managed to make his way around you, his hand trailing your waist and to your hand, gripping it ever so slightly “I don’t need a strange pink haired babysitter telling me what I should and shouldn't do, was it?” he chuckled, reiterating what you had already said prior while pulling your hand closer, your back pressed up against his left side as he examined it.

“Maybe I should make you eat those words angel”, “what are you doing, this isn't very professional of you mr babysitter” you spat, did he really think this would be the case of easy girl sleeps with the hot babysitter.

“Is there something in the air today” you scowled, yanking your hand out of the guys grasp and turning to face him, your back hoving just in front of the couches back, “If you’re a babysitter, what’s with the fangs and pointy tail hmm?”, “Oh you like em?” he smirked.

You stood your ground as the guy inched closer and closer to you till he was almost towering over you, your eyes refusing to meet his while you spoke “No, do babysitters usually dress as… Wait a minute”.

“You didn’t come in the house wearing that, what are you?” you stuttered, your eyes darting around his body taking in all the new features. There was no way something like that could have slipped your mind, absolutely no way. “Oh lighten up angel it’s just a costume, maybe you’re just exhausted and didn’t notice. But hey, if you wanted a closer look you could've just asked” he ribbed.

You could feel Sae’s presence as he stepped closer, his cold body radiating an eerie aura that made your heart almost instantly start racing like never before. His icy hot hands cupped your face, trapping you in his gaze till you could no longer move your own body, it almost felt as if there was someone else in your skin and you were just the mere shell.

Under the trance he had put you under, your lips met in an all-consuming kiss, every inch of your body quivered with nothing but lust and desire but you had no control anymore. A small moan slipped your lips allowing him full access, tasting every inch of your mouth as your tongue wrapped around his.

Deepening the kiss, Sae slid his hands down your tight fitted dress, tracing every curve of your body as he lifted you with ease, wrapping your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. Sae walked you both around the couch, laying you on the cushions below yet your lips never broke apart.

“Sae please” you whined needily against his lips, pulling him in as close as you could. “Oh don’t worry, I’ll give it to you” he snickered, breaking away from you, a trail of saliva still connecting you both as he looked into your eyes, “It’ll be the last thing you get”.

Those words resonated with you, what was even happening right now. Fear started to sink in as he gazed into your fearful eyes, all you could see back was corruption and death. Sleeping with him was one thing, but what did he mean by “it'll be the last thing you get?”. You weren’t even sure which thoughts were yours and which were his that were being planted in your head.

Sae ran his fingers down to your underwear, the trail of a icy hot burn lingering where they touched as he slipped them down your legs and onto the floor in one swoop. Without warning he pushed himself between your legs with a groan that was lost amongst your own curses, “did I catch you off guard” he asked sarcastically, pressing his lips against yours to swallow your cries.

The heated kiss intensified as the guy slid his hand under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your breast as he took your harden nipple between his fingers, twisting ever so slightly every now and then. He could feel himself harden as he touched you, a feverish heat coursed through his veins. 

With every thrust you felt a fiery coldness inside you that was both unbearable and exhilarating - it was almost as if he was feeding off of your energy, taking pleasure from your body beneath him. “Fu~ck I need you” Sae groaned against your ear between moans, your body was taking him so well. You clung to him, your breathing becoming heavier as he moved inside you. 

You wanted him so badly in this moment yet you knew you didn’t want to die, your mind couldn’t even comprehend the situation you were in at this point. Pain, lust, fear and desire just mixing into one as your body held onto him. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide and pretend this was a nightmare, this was your reality and there was nothing you could do. You had no control over your actions.

“You’re so fucking warm” he grunted, his thrusts getting deeper and more frantic as you cried out his name over and over again, tears streaming down your cheeks from the sensations. “S~Sae” you choked out, your eyebrows furrowed as his tip continuously pressed against your sweet spot, it almost felt as if with every stride more air left your body. You were almost suffocating but he made you feel so good.

The sounds of skin slapping against one another and passionate moans filled the large room, Sae’s body almost seeming to get more powerful as your needy cunt swallowed him in each time he grew faster.

“Sae please, i’m so close” you begged, your foreheads almost resting on one another's while he fucked you, your eyesight slowly fading away with each thrust. “Fuck I wish I could keep you to myself, too bad I gotta let you die” he cursed, not wanting to have to let you go, but as an incubus he had no choice.

“Go one, cum for me, paint this cock white before you go” he grinned, his vulgar tone hooking you in one final time, all that was on your mind was the need to fulfil your sexual appetite. Doing as told you came, your walls constricted around him, milking him dry but also coating his shaft completely.

“That’s it” he hissed, longing out his thrusts to allow you to enjoy your final orgasm before sliding out of you. Your vision began to blur and your eyes grew heavy, the realisation that you were fading away hitting you once again. 

You just wanted to slip away and forget everything, before you could drift away Sae whispered in your ear, “Can’t let you go without leaving my mark can I?”.

He sunk his fangs into your neck, an odd coolness running through your veins as he did, any energy you had left escaping as you took your final breath. This was it, this was how it would end for you, where did it all go wrong? Would he have left if you hadn’t opened the door? So many unanswered questions but sadly, time was up for you.

“So sweet, just how I like em” Sae laughed, composing himself while taking in the sight of your cold lifeless body laid on the couch. You were nothing more than a vessel to help him regain his power, however he had to admit, you felt different, not many were able to resist an incubus for as long as you could. But no matter the circumstances you had to pay with your life, life didn’t always get to go smoothly for everyone, life isn’t fair.

Just as those thoughts popped into his mind, Sae heard a car pull into the driveway. As he waltzed out of the house a man blocked his way, a confused expression on his face as he spoke, “erm, who are you and what are you doing here? I was told I was babysitting children”.

Glaring daggers at the smaller built man who looked no older than you, Sae rolled his eyes, “I don’t think it matters now anyway, you’re too late”. Stepping to the side and off into the distance Sae muttered, pointing back towards the babysitter, “But I will say, you’d better get ready to explain the scene in there”. 

Following the direction of Sae’s point the babysitter shuddered, panic and fear seeping in as he turnt the door handle to see the most horrific scene he had ever seen. Turning back in pure terror, the pink haired guy was already gone into the night.