#this was inspired by the fact i had a dream that was pretty regular

[luetta]

guy who creates endless sandy desert dreamscapes that take eons to cross: "muahaha! i love tormenting dreamers with a sublime treasure forever out of reach beyond an infinitely retreating horizon!"

guy who creates bottomless pit dreamscapes to fall down through where you pass by flashes of forgotten childhood memories: "your dreamscapes are middling and derivative. mine are avant-garde masterpieces that instill a forlorn sadness more potent than you could ever dream of"

[seokgyuu]

→ PAIRING: Seokmin x Afab!Reader. → GENRE: College!Au, kinda comedy, small bit of angst if you look hard enough, teeny tiny fluff, smut MDNI. → SYNOPSIS: After having a crush on Lee Seokmin for three years, he somehow ends up wanting to be your roommate. Instead of rejecting him, you decide to give him the vacant room - right after confessing your feelings for him.

→ WARNINGS: roommate!seok, wet dreams, coming untouched (f), degradation, usage of the words slut, baby, angel, masturbation (m), making out, like really so much kissing, fingering, finger-sucking, she loves his fingers lol, unprotected sex (don't.. just don't), creampie.

→  WORDCOUNT: 11.5k

A/N: hi guys!! here it is (for some of you even on the date it was scheduled to be posted!), my first ever stand-alone svt fic! no part 2, no whole ass series, just this cute 11.5k baby I wrote after being deep inside my seokmin shaped hole (i am always in a seokmin shaped hole actually). i want to thank my bestie @honeykyeom for making the amazing header as well for being my inspiration for writing this <3 ily!! now, i hope you enjoy and as always please reblog & comment, these things are what makes writing worth while <3

You had a crush. A big fat stupid crush. And it was starting to get extremely annoying. You really tried to stop liking him because a.) he didn’t even know you existed and b.) even if he did he would never ever like you back because what are the odds for that to actually happen?

“People get together all the time, Y/N, stop being dumb,” Seungkwan, your best friend, would say on the regular since the topic came up basically every other day. Yet, you still didn’t believe the Lee Seokmin would ever give you so much as a second glance. He was too perfect. Perfect grades, perfect friend group, perfect face, perfect everything. You had first laid eyes on him on your first day of classes - he had started the same year as you, smile on his face, shiny new MacBook propped in front of him. He wore an adorable baby blue sweater and black rimmed glasses, his hair falling into his forehead and, god, you were gone the second you heard his honey dripping voice. 

That had been three years ago and now, both of you in your senior years, you still hadn’t talked to him even once. Or well, no, you had, when he had asked you for a phone charger which you had given him in exactly three seconds. You were still proud of that. 

*

“Hey, I heard you’re looking for a roommate?” 

“Are you- are you talking to me?” Your index finger was pointing at yourself while you blinked a few times at the person in front of you. 

“Uh, I mean, you are Y/N, right?” Kim Mingyu seemed just as confused as you. Probably because you were in fact Y/N and you were, in fact, looking for a roommate, but how on earth did he know that?

“No, I mean, yes, yes I am, but, uh, how do you- how do you know I’m looking for a roommate?”

“Oh, Seungkwan told me!” 

“You know Seungkwan?!”

Mingyu seems a little startled by your sudden outburst. You cleared your throat before chuckling nervously.

“S-sorry, I just didn’t know Seungkwan and you knew each other.”

“We go to the same gym, actually, and I told him my friend is desperately looking for a place and he told me you are in search of a roommate so…,” his smile was bright and pretty and you felt like you were about to wake up from a dream because why the hell was Seokmin’s bestie talking to you as if he had done it thousand of times before?

“I see, uh, I mean, I am definitely desperate for a roommate, rent you know, like, uh, I need to pay it soon and… well, I am short half of it and that’s what I would… need the roommate for,” you scratched your ear. Smooth.

“No, I understand! And my friend is just as desperate. See, he just broke up with his long-term girlfriend, she cheated on him, and now he just really needs to move out.”

“Oh, damn, sorry about that. You can tell him he can come by, eh, does tomorrow work? Like afternoon-ish? I have classes until four.”

“Awesome! I’ll let him know, thank you Y/N!”

Mingyu beamed at you, his hand up in the air as he waved, walking away and out of the building. Letting out a sigh you hadn’t even known you were holding, you grabbed your phone from your bag and unlocked it, quickly moving your fingers over the display to call Seungkwan. Walking out the opposite direction Mingyu had, you waited for your best friend to pick up, pushing open the door into the hot air of the early evening. 

“What’s up?” Seungkwan finally picked up and you rolled your eyes at the greeting.

“Hello to you too, Kwannie,” you said in a sweet voice, hearing Seungkwan scoff as a response.

“I’m in the middle of something, Y/N. So, what’s up?” 

“Kim Mingyu just asked me if a friend of his can move in with me,” you raised your brows as you walked over the campus to the parking lot, the keys to your car already dangling from your fingers, “care to tell me why you didn’t mention that?”

“Ah, that, well, I actually met Mingyu at the gym earlier today, like super early morning, and heard him talk to his friend on the phone and well, since I do have a few classes with him, I thought I should offer.”

“You should offer? Pretty sure it’s still my apartment you were selling off to a stranger.”

“Now, now. Mingyu isn’t a stranger now, is he? How many times have you stalked his insta now to look at that one specific gym picture of Seokm-,”

“Whatever, just- just please, for the future, let me know when you tell someone about my living situation, alright?”

“Sure thing, bestie. Now, can I get back to what I was doing?”

“Of course. Tell Hansol I said hi.” Before he could either protest or deny, you hung up and shoved your phone into your pocket. 

*

You dreamt of him again. It was a rare occasion, but it happened. Most of the time the dreams were innocent enough, just him touching your face, him laughing at your jokes, him simply acknowledging your existence. 

But this one was different. 

Seokmin was right above you, his body hot and sweaty. His eyes said so much more than words ever could and yet you longed to hear his voice. Longed to hear him say your name. He was buried deep inside you, his hips still, eyes never leaving yours. He throbbed, his whole body seemingly vibrated at how much he wanted you, your legs wrapped around his waist, wanting nothing more than for him to take you, mark you, fill you. 

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his hand caressing your face and you moved your head, your mouth sucking in his thumb, feeling him twitch inside of you.

“You can’t really talk with that in your mouth, can you, Y/N?” Fuck, his voice was so low so deep and when he finally moved down to kiss your neck, stuffing his thumb even further down your mouth, his hips now beginning to thrust, all of you began to shake. 

Then, suddenly, you were in your living room, right there on that windowsill that connected the kitchen and the living room, his hips drilling into you. He was wearing a dress shirt and a black tie, but both of it was loosened around his neck, your hands on his broad shoulders as he seemed to have made it his goal to fuck you senseless. You were a moaning mess, his lips sucking harshly on your skin, you yourself being completely naked. His mouth was everywhere: your neck, your stiff nipple, your lips. He took all of you in and you breathed in every bit he gave you. 

“You’re so fucking good for me, baby, so good, such a good little slut, letting me fuck her like this.”

“Mhm, y-yes, I l-love the way you f-fuck me, Seok!” His grip on you got stronger, hands digging harshly into your hips as he threw his head back now, your eyes taking in all of his beauty. The droplets of sweat, the bopping Adam’s apple as he swallowed, the way his vein popped out right there on his neck…

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he moaned and you nodded strongly, feeling your own climax so close.

“Please, want your cum so bad!” you whined and as if those had been the magic words, Seokmin emptied inside of you, the feeling of his cum hitting you so deep-

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

You screamed, while your back hit the floor. You had fallen out of bed, your alarm blasting on the other side of your bed. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, sitting up slowly, your hand rubbing the back of your head. Funnily enough, that wasn’t the only part of you that throbbed. Just for a completely different reason. 

-

“You came in your sleep?” Seungkwan was impressed with you. You just wanted to punch him because why did he have to say that this loud right in the line for lunch?

“Shut up!” you said through gritted teeth and Seungkwan snorted, before grabbing the big spoon for the Kimchi.

“Don’t worry, no one is listening.” Instead of arguing with him you rolled your eyes and grabbed some Japchae before heading to the drinks. 

“But to answer your question: yes, I did. And no, that has never happened before. Like, I never ever had a dream like that, Seungkwan, never!”

“Aw, I can’t believe my best friend lost her wet dream virginity at the ripe age of 24!” He grinned as the two of you sat down at an empty table. You ignored him.

“It was so real. I honestly feel sick to my stomach. How could it have been so real?” 

It was truly astonishing to you. Hours had passed and the dream was still there, playing in your head over and over again, making you squeeze your thighs together more than not in the worst moments. Statistic class wasn’t supposed to make you horny and yet, you couldn’t say it hadn’t.

“I’m jealous. I never had an actual wet dream make me cum before, like yeah, I woke up with cum in my underwear before, but then again that’s kind of normal I guess?”

“Dude! You don’t need wet dreams to make you orgasm, you have a literal boyfriend!”

“He is not my boyfriend!” Seungkwan protested and you grabbed your juice box to take a dramatic sip from it. 

“Well, sounds like a you problem. Doesn’t change the fact you’re getting laid, though.” Seungkwan scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. He apparently didn’t have a comeback. Served him right.

“It’s not like you are trying to change that,” nevermind. You sigh, putting the drink down again.

“What am I supposed to do? Just hook up with a random guy and act like I’m not madly in love with someone who doesn’t know I exist?”

“He knows you exist, you god damn drama queen. You had every class together first semester!”

You ignored him. Instead, you decided that your Japchae is the most interesting thing you had ever seen. Seungkwan shook his head and clicked his tongue.

“You’re an idiot, Y/N. Like the biggest idiot I have ever met.”

“Takes one to know one,” you muttered as a response, feeling a piece of kimchi hitting your cheek the next second. 

*

You were home at four forty-five and hoped there would still be time to clean up the place at least a little bit before the potential-new-roommate-slash-friend-of-Kim-Mingyu showed up. In record time you found yourself standing in a semi-clean living room (meaning: maybe the floor showed some signs of needing to be vacuumed, but at least everything looked tidy) with all the windows open in hope for some cool air because you sure as hell weren’t going to turn on the AC without another person to cover the costs. 

Just as you finished changing into some clothes not sweated through, the doorbell rang. Quickly, you made your way to the door, buzzing them up, only to hear a knock on the door next. Oh, so he had been let in already. Putting on your most charming smile, you pulled the door open, only for the smile to fade the second you saw who stood there right in front of your door. 

“Y/N?” 

Lee Seokmin had just said your name. And he was standing in front of your apartment.

“Seokmin, what- what are you doing here?” You asked, oblivious to the situation. 

“I- uh, I- Mingyu said he told you I was coming?”

“Mingyu? No he said that-,” you lost your ability to speak just then. The friend Mingyu had been talking about-

“Wait, you- you’re the potential new roommate?!” Your voice was barely anything but a squeak. Seokmin looked a little lost, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of his oversized yellow jumper.

“Yeah, did he not mention that?” 

Nope, seems like he forgot that part. You swallowed, pressing your lips together for a second while your brain tried to fully grasp the situation. This was Seokmin. Aka the guy you have been in love with for three years. And he wanted to move in with you. 

“Uh, no. Sorry, please come in!” You took a step back and Seokmin smiled at you (HE smiled at YOU!!!), walking into your apartment and looking around as you closed the door, hoping your racing heart would calm down. You wouldn’t exactly bet on it though. 

Seokmin took his shoes off and you watched him, already beginning to chew on your lip like you always did when you were nervous. He turned around and you quickly smiled, walking into the living space.

“So, this is the living room, it uh-,” you stopped speaking, your eyes now on the window connecting the kitchen and living room, on the windowsill you had just dreamt about last night. Your face suddenly got very hot. 

“It connects to the kitchen through that window, which I thought was really cool, big selling point,” you watched as Seokmin walked over to the kitchen, his eyes roaming through the room and when he stopped in front of the window, hand touching the sill you nearly felt yourself loose footing. Why the fuck did he have to do this? For a second you were convinced this was just another dream. 

“It definitely is unique,” he said, nodding and walking into the small but modern kitchen.

“Uhm, there is a dishwasher in the kitchen and a microwave. We don’t have an oven, but I am pretty sure I have like a small one in the attic. I am more of a take-out or quick meal kind of gal, so I don’t really use it much. But if you were interested in baking something, I could definitely get it down,” Jesus, why on earth were you talking so much? But Seokmin seemed to appreciate it, nodding understandingly as he looked around with a small pout on his lips. Maybe this wasn’t the right moment (or maybe it was the perfect moment) to stare at him, but you did. You watched his every move, how he checked out the cupboards, how he asked before he opened the fridge, how he pulled a hand through his hair as he asked a question. 

Oh! 

“Sorry?” You crossed your arms, the hotness of your cheeks only increasing. Seokmin chuckled.

“I asked if you had a certain system in your fridge with your old roommate.”

“Oh, well, not really. We kind of always planned what we were going to eat, she was a big cook actually. Enjoyed it a lot. I store my Ramen right here, wait,” you walked into the kitchen fully now too, to the cupboard next to where Seokmin was standing and got on your tiptoes to reach for the door, opening it in a swing.

“There,” you explained, looking over at Seokmin - only to see him look at you instead of the food. You blinked a few times. He blushed.

“Ah, yes, I see. Cool. So, uh, no system. That’s fine with me! I wouldn’t say I’m a cook per sé, but I can hook up some simple dishes,” he turned away, your whole body suddenly feeling a lot hotter than a second before. Nodding, you closed the cupboard again and walked back outside. Seokmin followed you.

You showed him the rest of the apartment (except for your room) and finally the two of you ended up in the living room again where you sat down on the couch. 

“I, uh, I would love to take the room, Y/N. But it’s obviously up to you.” His smile was so… you gulped down whatever response you had in your mind. Now wasn’t the time to eat right out of his hands, no, you had to think about this. On the one hand, you really needed a roommate. There was no chance you could hold this apartment by yourself and you really didn’t want to move. But on the other hand, this was Seokmin. You couldn’t just let him move in with you when you liked him this much, could you? At least not without him knowing. An idea popped into your head. It was risky and stupid and you would probably regret this. But then again - if he wanted to move in, and apparently he was just as desperate as you to get this room, it would only be fair to let him know what the situation was. 

“Look, Seokmin,” you started, your hands in your lap, your heart racing again (or still). You looked up at him, your cheeks still bright red. Seokmin watched you, unsure what to make of your current behavior. He decided to just let you talk.

“I really need a roommate. And you really need a place to live. Mingyu, uh, he told me about the break-up and I’m really sorry about that,” - you were also happy you hadn’t tried to make a move considering he had a girlfriend -, “but I would feel horrible to let you take this room without knowing the full truth.” 

Now, Seokmin got a little spooked. The full truth? Were you going to confess that you were a drug dealer? Part of some gang? But then you probably wouldn’t need a roommate considering you’d make good money. 

“I, uh, okay,” Seokmin swallowed hard. You took a deep breath.

“I like you. As in, I like you. I have for years now. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, and to be honest, even if I had, I probably wouldn’t have succeeded in getting over this crush. I’m not telling you because I am expecting anything from you, I promise, hell, I never planned on telling you ever. But you want the room and I would be happy to give it to you, I would just feel weird having you live here with this big secret to keep.”

There were approximately three minutes of silence in which you were sure Seokmin would get up and leave. He stared at you, his mouth slightly dropped and you could have kicked yourself for finding him endearing. Starting to shift on your seat once the third minute started, Seokmin realized he had been staring instead of answering. But then again, he really had not expected this sudden confession. 

“I, uh, I am flattered, Y/N, really, I just, I- I just got out of a relationship and-,”

“I know that! As I said, I didn’t tell you because I want anything from you. I have been happy liking you from afar, Seokmin. And who knows, maybe having you close by all the time will actually make me stop liking you. I mean, what if you’re like a total slob or listen to super weird historical podcasts?” 

“What do you have against historical podcasts?” Seokmin asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. You chuckled.

“Nothing in particular. But my last roommate listened to them on like full blast. Just got annoying at some point.” 

He nodded now, understanding. Yeah, he could see why that would be annoying at some point. Still, that wasn’t the real issue here. Or, well, was it really an issue? He cleared his throat. 

“I- I don’t take you as someone who would let her feelings get the best of her. And, to be honest, I’m not really the type of guy you should have a crush on, Y/N. But, uh, I’m still very flattered. And I don’t think this would stop me from moving in, as you said, we are both desperate.”

You were surprised and it showed. Seokmin chuckled.

“Or do you not want me here?”

“No! I do, I really need you to move in,” you said, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Seokmin nodded again. 

“Then it’s settled. I’ll get my stuff asap and then we’ll be roomies.”

“Can’t wait!”

*

Seungkwan thought you were insane. He hadn’t known it was Seokmin when Mingyu had approached him and now he regretted ever offering it. 

“What do you mean you told him?!” He was sitting at your small dinner table in the living room. You shrugged. 

“What was I supposed to do? Just let him move in and carry this huge ass secret with me all the time? I don’t think so.”

“You could have just told him no, Y/N.”

“Right, and then what? I see him in class every other day? How awkward would that be?”

“You mean as awkward as living with a guy who knows you have a crush on him?!” When you shrugged again, Seungkwan groaned, pulling his hands over his face.

“You’re seriously insane, I can’t believe you did this!”

And about a week after Seokmin had officially moved in, you couldn’t believe it either. 

Living with Seokmin proved to do the exact opposite of what you had mentioned in your chat with him. He wasn’t a slob. And he also didn’t listen to any podcast on full volume. He cleaned, cooked, gave you space. Every morning he got up earlier than you and prepared coffee, before going out for a jog - only to come back while you were having breakfast, looking all sweaty and sexy. The first time this had happened you had choked on your toast, drinking what felt like one whole liter of orange juice before finally being able to stop coughing. Seokmin had hit your back a few times, apologizing for startling you. And yet, he didn’t stop doing it, which made you used to it after a while (it didn’t).  

Instead of falling out of love with him, you found yourself drawn to him even more, craving his presence. When he was gone, you missed him, and when he was home you wanted to hear everything about his day, wanted to eat dinner with him, watch a new episode of that show you had started together. 

*

Seokmin was outside in the living room, his laptop placed on his lap, an essay he needed to proof read opened as he sipped on a can of beer. He was on his favorite spot on the floor, right in front of the couch, leaning his back against it. Actually, he had wanted to go to sleep an hour ago, but then he had talked with his sister on the phone and now he was back to this. It had been two months since he had moved in with you despite knowing you had feelings for him. Back when you had originally told him, he had felt like he should probably run because the last thing he needed right now was complicated. Things with Hyorin had been complicated enough. But, as he now knew, you weren’t complicated in the slightest. More so the opposite. It didn’t take long for Seokmin to begin to understand you and your patterns. It also didn’t take long for him to figure out how much you actually liked him. If he had been anyone else he might have taken advantage of that. Flirt with you, get you into his bed. But he was Seokmin, he wasn’t a guy who would do that. Not that he hadn’t… thought about it. Seeing the way you looked at him, especially after his morning runs or when he came back from the gym in the evening… it took everything in him not to imagine you looking at him that way when he was fucking you. 

Seokmin wasn’t a sex-hungry person, normally. Maybe because he had been in a long-term relationship for five years. But now, with his relationship being over for two months and the periods before that being dry in the sex department… he was starting to miss it. Dearly. 

So, when he sat there on the floor, his head focusing on the contents of this essay he wrote a day earlier in the library, he couldn’t really help getting distracted by the sounds coming from your room. His ears perked up and his head turned sideways, throat already drying up. Were you crying? Maybe you were-

“O-oh.”

His laptop slipped from his lap when he got up. His heart speed rose and sweat was starting to form on his hairline. That certainly wasn’t the type of crying he had meant. Slowly, he walked over to the door of your room that he only now realized wasn’t properly shut. He felt bad, guilty even, when he peeked through the small opening, seeing you apparently asleep. A dream? He licked his lips. Were you dreaming? 

“S-Seokmin.” 

Something inside him switched over. His whole body started to heat up, his cock desperately beginning to twitch in his briefs. Fuck, he hadn’t ever expected that hearing you moan his name would do so much. You were dreaming, yes, about him. And he heard you, heard you moaning, the whimpers. And god, did you sound perfect. He leaned against the wall next to your room, letting his dick get harder with every second, waiting for your noises like an addict. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t get himself to move away and mind his own business. He was intoxicated by you. He took everything he could, every breath, as small as they might be. The sighs following the moan of his name. 

For now, he only listened. He didn’t want to touch himself here, didn’t want to be that type of person. But then again, he had already parked himself right outside your room, listening to you having a wet dream, it wasn’t like beginning to jerk off would make much of a difference. So, he slowly moved his hand, palming himself over his sweats, feeling how hard he was because of you. He closed his eyes, ears concentrating only on you. He wondered what you were dreaming about. What was he doing to you right now? Was he holding you down as he fucked you? Was he going down on you, tasting you? God, he really wanted to taste you. 

For a second he contemplated going in and waking you up - making your dream reality. But he couldn’t. Not knowing what he did. 

Opening his eyes, he suddenly felt guilt rushing over him and he was quick to close your door, making his way over to where he had sat earlier and grabbing his laptop. 

Once he was in his own room, door locked and all, he tried to clear his head of the sounds you had made, of the way it was him you were dreaming about. But with his cock this hard and you so close… it was no use. He put his laptop on his desk and laid down on his bed after, taking a deep breath. He couldn’t hear you from his room and, god, was he relieved. Not hearing you did not equal not remembering you, though. And so, knowing he was going to lose to his conscience anyways, he opened the drawer in his bedside table and got out the package of lube, squeezing a bit on his right hand, while the left shoved down his sweats and briefs, letting his erection hit the cool air of his room. 

He sighed in relief when his right hand began squeezing him, head leaned back into the pillows, hand now moving up and down slowly. You were right there in front of his inner eye, the way you sounded, but also the image of how you would look underneath him. Moaning his name, begging him to go faster. Then, he imagined your cheek stuffed with his cock, imagined your teary eyes when he began fucking down your throat. 

“F-fuck,” he couldn’t help but go faster, his hips lifting up his bed as he fucked his fist, wishing it was your pussy or your mouth, any of your holes would do. How badly he wanted to hear you beg, wanted you to be on your knees, mouth open and tongue out, ready to take whatever he was willing to give. Pouty lips and round eyes, wishing for nothing more than Seokmin’s cock filling you up. 

“God, just like that, Y/N, f-fuck,” he couldn’t help but moan as he came, his load landing on his clothed chest. 

Coming down from his high, Seokmin opened his eyes, blinking a few times before he really understood what had happened. Groaning, he let his left hand rub over his face, before he shook his head and sat up. He got rid of his shirt and threw it in the laundry bin, walking to the door unlocking and opening it to go to the bathroom - only to run into you who just came out of the bathroom. Your eyes grew wide when you spotted Seokmin - shirtless and sweaty and with this certain look in his eyes that made your legs grow weaker. 

Not knowing what he was doing, Seokmin walked straight over to you, his hands finding the sides of your neck, his lips crashing into yours a second later. You didn’t know what was happening, didn’t know what to do - but you kissed him back, your hands on his broad back, as he pushed you against the wall, his meaty perfect thigh shoved between your legs now, pressing against your still sensitive core. You gasped into the kiss, his tongue now devouring yours, one of his hands moving down and underneath your shirt, grabbing your breast and squeezing it harshly. Your arms locked around his neck, moans getting caught by his skillful mouth. Were you still dreaming? 

“Seokmin,” you moaned when his hand squeezed your nipple and only then did he realize what was happening. Immediately, he parted from you, causing you to miss his kiss and touch the second he left. 

“What-,” you began, but before you could even finish the question, he had already turned around and walked back into his room, closing the door behind him. And locking it. 

*

He acted like nothing happened. You were anxiously waiting in the kitchen the next morning, but once he came back from his run he just showed you his normal goofy self, excusing himself to go take a  shower. The way you had stood there, fully ready (not really) to talk about the night before, still in your pjs, still dizzy from the dream you had had as well as the very real kiss afterward. Why had he done that? Had he suddenly turned into a sleepwalker? A sleepwalker that kissed his roommate as if he had been starving? 

You sure as hell weren’t going to bring it up first. So, you played along, pretending like it didn’t happen. 

“I am declaring you clinically insane, Y/N,” Seungkwan was munching away on his corndog, while you and his (not) boyfriend Hansol sat opposite him at one of the smaller booths of the diner.

“He started it,” you shrugged, grabbing your own corndog now to take a bite from it.

“Okay, and? You could have started the conversation. For example: “Hey roomie, so about that night where you came out of your room clearly just done with getting yourself off and then kissed me? Like really hard? Against a wall?” See, that would have been a great conversation starter.”

You deadpanned at him.

“You’re an idiot,” shaking your head, you leaned back in your seat, “what if he really like, I don’t know, was in a delirious state? Maybe he drank alone before bed and just had a black out?”

“Or maybe he is an asshole who can’t own up to his actions,” Seungkwan shrugged, “but sure, yours sounds way more likely.”

“Seungkwan is right, Y/N. You should just bring it up,” Hansol looked at you and you sighed, letting your head drop onto the table.

“I don’t think I can. I’m too mortified. What if he totally regrets kissing me and that’s why he is pretending like it didn’t happen?”

“That still doesn’t give him permission to act this way. I don’t care if he is deeply in love with you or hates you, I just want him to be humane enough to tell you.”

It stung, the way he was right. Whatever Seokmin was feeling, he had to share it with you. He couldn’t just- 

“Am I going crazy or is Seokmin standing outside?” You raised your head again, eyes wide when you realized you were, in fact, not going crazy. Seokmin was right there outside the diner, on the other side of the street, his phone in his hand, an anxious look on his face.

“Did you tell him you were coming here?” Hansol asked and you shook your head.

“No, we barely saw each other this morning.”

What was he doing here? And why did he look like he would rather be anywhere else? Your eyes scanned the surroundings, a sour feeling suddenly spreading in your guts. You were only a few streets down from your apartment, the street wasn’t exactly busy but had some really good places to eat. This was the perfect meeting spot for-

“Who’s that?” Seungkwan shifted closer to the window next to you, his eyes squeezed together as if he was trying harder to recognise whoever had just shown up next to Seokmin. You didn’t have to know her to… know her. Hyorin. His ex-girlfriend that had cheated on him. He had mentioned her to you only a few times, you being a little reluctant to ask considering he knew how you felt about him. But from what you had gathered he hated her, never wanted to see her again. So why was he here now? With her?

“Is that…?” Seungkwan looked over at you, worry displayed on his face and you pressed your lips together as you nodded. 

She was beautiful. Tall, long silky black hair. Her skin glowing even from here. She was the girl Seokmin should be kissing in his delirious state, in any state, really. You swallowed down the tears that threatened to spill out and averted your gaze. Your appetite had left you and you wanted nothing more than to flee the scene, go home and never think of this moment again.

“Should we leave?” Hansol asked, looking over at Seungkwan a little helplessly. Seungkwan nodded quickly and his (not) boyfriend grabbed your arm and helped you get out of the booth. As much as you felt like yelling at him that you didn’t need this help, as much did you appreciate the gesture. Seungkwan paid at the front desk and you left the diner, your heart in desperate need for some distraction. 

*

When Seokmin got home that evening, you weren’t there. A part of him was relieved while another one already missed your presence. Sighing, he kicked off his shoes and finally slipped down onto the couch, hands rubbing over his face. This whole thing was a mess. Today was a mess. Hyorin had called him and asked him to meet up and because he was who he was he had said yes. He should have known she would just try to apologize for the nth time, telling him it had only happened once and that he was the only one for her. Little did she know that he gave zero fucks at this point. He didn’t want her anymore, he didn’t love her anymore. She had broken his heart and stomped on it, had lied and cheated, had done all these horrible things to him. And yet, he was somewhat grateful because now he was right here. In your apartment. 

It was silly, really, because he had been dating Hyorin for two years already when he saw you the first time. You and your cute gray sweatshirt and the high ponytail. You, who had been the cutest person in every single one of your classes together. You, who he couldn’t develop feelings for because he had a girlfriend. Unlike Hyorin, he wasn’t a cheater. He had loved her, truly loved her. And he had been shattered when he found out about the other guy, feeling like he could never be fixed again. He had to get out of the shared apartment, had to leave it all behind as soon as he possibly could - and he had somehow ended up on your doorstep. It was crazy how the universe worked. 

And as if that hadn’t been enough, you suddenly confessed to him, turning all of his feelings upside down. Because what was he supposed to say? Supposed to do? God, he was heartbroken over Hyorin and yet there was this ray of light in the shape of a girl that loved to spend her evenings watching trashy teen drama and cry over a bucket of Ben & Jerry’s when a character you didn’t even particularly like died on screen. 

Seokmin didn’t want to allow him to like you. He was scared that maybe you liking him altered his brain chemistry, that perhaps he would want to be with you only as a rebound and you were too good, too perfect to be anything of that kind. And so, when that night had happened and he had lost his composure, he knew he messed up. He knew you had feelings for him, god, he probably would have figured it out even if you hadn’t told him. Not just because of the dream he had overheard but because of the way you looked at him. The way you smiled, the way you laughed. He didn’t want you to look at anyone else like that. 

The sound of a door unlocking filled the quiet room now and was soon joined by the giggles of a girl and the nervous laugh of a guy - and both of these voices were familiar to Seokmin. He immediately got up and walked over to the entry way - only to see Mingyu holding your waist as you, obviously drunk, tried to get out of your shoes.

“Mingyu?” Seokmin asked confusedly.

“Oh, hey Seok,” Mingyu said, holding you steady as you felt your knees giving in. 

“What- what is going on?” 

“We met at a bar, she was with Seungkwan and his boyfriend-,”

“He is not his boyfriend!” you interrupted him with a giggle.

“Uh, right, Seungkwan and his not-boyfriend were also super drunk and I called them a cab, but I really didn’t want to send Y/N home on her own so-,”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Seokmin now came closer, his eyes set on his best friend’s hand around your waist, his insides slowly but surely heating up with something he could only recognize as jealousy.

“Uh, I thought you were busy with… you know.”

Seokmin’s jaw tensed, his eyes fixed on Mingyu who had successfully held you down as you stepped out of your shoes.

“That has been resolved hours ago, Mingyu.”

“And how was he supposed to know that, hm?” The sudden sound of your voice made both men look over at you. Your hand was raised, finger pointed at Seokmin accusingly. 

“Y/N-“, Mingyu started, but you shook your head and finally freed yourself from Mingyu’s grasp.

“No! No, I’m tired of this! Was it nice? Seeing your perfect ex again? Do you want to go back to her now? Move out and act like I don’t exist? Like you didn’t kiss me?”

Mingyu held his breath. You had told him all this in the bar earlier, where he had met you and Seungkwan and Hansol and where he had realized that you were madly in love with his best friend. He felt bad about you having seen Seokmin with Hyorin, but even more did he feel bad because it was also so painfully obvious that Seokmin liked you, too. 

“I think you’re drunk,” Seokmin noted and you laughed, throwing your hands in the air. Mingyu stayed quiet.

“Do you, now? How observant of you, Seokmin.”

The two of you were staring at each other now, fury in both your eyes. Honestly, you didn’t know what he was angry about. After all you weren’t the one running back to her ex after kissing him the way he had you. 

“I, uh, I guess I should go now,” Mingyu pointed at the door with his thumb over his shoulder, “you seem to… well, have a lot to talk about.” 

The normally so cheerful and kind Seokmin didn’t wish his best friend a good night, nor did he even look at him when he left. Instead he kept looking at you, saw the way you waved at Mingyu and thanked him, your hand squeezing his arm. Lightning was shooting through him. Jealousy was about to eat him up, was about to make him grab you and yell that you shouldn’t touch Mingyu like that. It was dumb and he knew it. You made him crazy, you made him dumb. Like a teenager who was in love for the first time, unsure what to make of it. 

Once the door had fallen shut, you stormed past your roommate, ready to enter your room and not leave it until the next day. Just that you didn’t get far. Seokmin ended up grabbing your arm after all, his touch burning on your skin. 

“Mingyu is right, we do have a lot to talk about,” he said in a hushed voice, making you scoff. 

“Fine, then talk.” With whatever willpower you had left, you looked at him. Saw the way his eyes were full of an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint - the fury from before still slightly visible but not alone. Perhaps it was anger for you speaking to him the way you had. Or maybe he was just annoyed at you for being drunk and loud and stupid. 

“Look, Y/N. What happened between us was… it shouldn’t have happened, alright?”

“Why? Because you’re back together with your cheating ex?”

“No! God, no, I would never get back with Hyorin. And I can’t believe Mingyu told you about this and-,”

“He didn’t!” You freed yourself out of his grip, your eyes dangerously beginning to prickle, “I saw you. With her.” 

He inhaled audibly - he hadn’t expected this. You saw him? With Hyorin? No wonder you were this upset. He pulled his hand through his hair.

“She wanted to talk things out. And because I’m too nice of a person I told her yes. Y/N, I don’t want to be with her anymore. She broke my heart, she hasn’t been the girl I fell in love with for ages now.” 

“Why did you kiss me?” If you were honest, you didn’t really care about when Hyorin had stopped being the girl Seokmin loved. You were more interested in whether you were. 

“I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Pang. Your face flinched before your jaw tensed. 

“Right,” your voice was smaller than you had wanted it to be, and the tears were even closer to spilling now. Of course he regretted it. Regretted kissing you, regretted making you feel the way you had. Because why would it be any different? Perhaps you should have tried to hook up with Mingyu tonight just to feel something different than this ache inside of you. 

“I just- fuck, I just don’t want to take advantage of you. Of what you feel for me.”

Now, the tears of hurt were quickly changing to tears of anger. This man really had a talent in making you switch emotions in seconds. 

“Excuse me? You- what?” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head, “don’t do this. Don’t make yourself look like a hero because you stepped back from kissing me. You did that because you wanted to. I didn’t come onto you even once in all the time you’ve been living here. So don’t you dare pin this on me or my feelings.” You hated that you began to shake and that your voice was higher than anticipated. You hated that the way he looked at you made you feel small and idiotic, made you feel as if you were the dumbest person on this earth. Instead of waiting for his response, you turned around on your heel, walking into your room and slamming the door shut behind you.

*

No one wanted to be in Seokmin’s shoes right now. After your fight he had also retreated back to his room, not exactly sure how to ever face you again. A day later he was at lunch with Mingyu, Cheol and Joshua and they all looked at him like he had suddenly grown three heads. 

“I can’t believe you said that,” Joshua judged, shaking his head. Seokmin sighed, throwing his napkin on the table. 

“Come on, was it really that bad?”

“Yes,” all three of his friends said in union, all their eyes on him, no sign of humor. Seokmin swallowed. 

“I really thought I was doing the right thing,” he mumbled now, letting his head fall, eyes studying the pattern of the wooden table.

“By doing what? Pushing away a girl that’s absolutely crazy about you? That has been nothing but kind and wonderful towards you? That you very obviously have feelings for?” Mingyu snorted, crossing his arms, “no, that most certainly wasn’t the right thing to do, Seokmin.”

While Seokmin stayed silent, Seungcheol and Joshua nodded, telling Seokmin, once again, that he was an idiot. It was no use, though. He already knew he was! He knew he had messed up and even though a part of him still thought that, maybe, his intention had been noble, the part was slowly but surely getting kicked out. 

“And what do you expect me to do? I can’t just go up to her and tell her that I was wrong for saying that. She doesn’t even talk to me!”

“Can’t really blame her, can you?” Seungcheol took a sip from his iced tea.

“Look, it’s only been a day. Let her calm down, give her space. Give yourself some more time to come up with the right thing to say. I’m sure it will be fine, you and Y/N will be fine.”

And as much as Seokmin appreciated the tough love followed by Joshua’s words of affirmation, he wasn’t sure it was really helping him. In fact, he wasn’t sure what could help him considering you started ignoring him from then on, even avoiding your shared space to either stay at Seungkwan’s place or just come home once Seokmin was already in bed. Every class you had together, you would sit right by one of the doors, arriving at the latest and leaving as soon as possible. Whilst Seokmin was trying his hardest to come up with a way to apologize to you, to win you back, you were trying your best to forget about your feelings for him. And for the most part it was even successful - you being mad at him and feeling like an idiot whenever you thought about the kiss you two had shared. But then again, only for the most part. 

“You can’t just force yourself out of love with someone,” Seungkwan said on the nth night you’ve been sitting on his couch, a bucket of ice cream in your arms, the AC on the highest setting because, holy hell, was it hot outside. 

“I can try,” you shrugged, staring at the TV screen. Seungkwan sighed, letting his eyes wander over your frame. You didn’t look your best, the hurt definitely coming through with bags under your eyes, your hair looking frizzy, the shirt you were wearing a stain right in the middle and when he had asked you about it, you couldn’t even tell him where that had come from. 

So, when he got a call from Kim Mingyu two days later, he was eager as ever to meet up and hopefully get you off his couch. 

The setting was in a small coffee shop, Seokmin seated nervously next to Mingyu who had ordered an iced americano for each of them. Seungkwan looked from one handsome guy to the other, clearing his throat.

“So, I’m guessing this is about Y/N?” he raised a brow and Mingyu quickly nodded, while Seokmin shifted on his seat, hands clasped around his plastic cup. 

“Yup. Do you have any idea what Seok over here can do to, you know, get her to speak to him again?” Mingyu pointed at Seokmin with his thumb and Seungkwan chuckled as he watched Seokmin slap the thumb away, his cheeks a bright red.

“I’m sorry, I would’ve never come to you about this, but I’m desperate at this point. She is never home and when she is, she makes it her mission to not even acknowledge my existence.”

“Yeah, when she’s not home she is at my place. And let me tell you, it’s getting incredibly annoying, considering I have a “not-boyfriend” that I’d really like to invite over,” clicking his tongue, Seungkwan leaned back and grabbed his own beverage, taking a sip from the bright blue straw, “so, I am more than happy to help.”

For a few minutes they brainstormed, Mingyu suggesting that maybe Seokmin should just ambush her, maybe get a pair of handcuffs and- yeah, he was shut down by both Seokmin and Seungkwan rather quickly. Seokmin said that maybe he should just continue texting her and that perhaps she’d come around, but Seungkwan shook his head, telling him there was no use, he had never met anyone worse at texting and reading texts than his best friend. 

After a moment of silence in which they all seemed a bit defeated, Seungkwan watched Mingyu take out his phone and open a message he had received on instagram. The only blonde at the table had never been quicker to sit up and almost knock over his drink.

“I know what you have to do.” 

-

It had been two weeks since you had last talked to Seokmin and for once you were inside your apartment, knowing that he was at class while yours had been canceled. It was nice to be back home during day time for a change, your feet propped up on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. A book in your lap that you had discarded for a bit to check your phone, only to be hit in the face by a cruel, cruel reality. The book slipped off your lap as you withdrew your legs from the table and instead kneeled on the couch, both hands gripping your phone tightly. 

“He has got to be joking,” you mumbled, feeling dizzy as you stared at the mirror pic Seokmin had posted half an hour ago. He hadn’t posted in months. Basically since he and Hyerin had broken up. His insta was mainly blank except for a few pictures he had taken of pretty sceneries. Never had he ever posted gym selfies. No. That had been Mingyu, showing off Seokmin’s body in his pictures as well as his own. 

To be fair, there wasn’t much body to see on the selfie. It was him in the gym, his long sleeved shirt rolled up above his elbows, showing enough arm to make you head feel crazy. His left hand was holding his phone, his fingers spread over it and, fuck, his hand. His hair was just slightly messy, his jaw and neck on full display and you forgot how to breathe. Arousal pooled in between your legs now and you honestly couldn’t even understand why. Perhaps, you thought, because this was the first time you had seen his face in almost two weeks and this picture just fed into all of your small kinks about him. Swallowing hard, you licked your lips and continued to bury your teeth into the bottom one, your pussy already throbbing. How pathetic. Little did you know you were about to become even more pathetic. Only now did your eyes spot the small symbol on the right side of the post, signaling you that there wasn’t just one picture. With a throat as dry as the desert, you clicked back on the post, a shaking index finger swiping to the left, only to be met by what could only be described as worse. There you had the body you had so desperately wished for. Leaned back on what you assumed to be a bench press, his legs adjourned in baggy jeans you had seen him wear a handful of times. Back then you had been happy to not see them on him this much because for whatever reason he was even more sexy in them. They weren’t even tight (as baggy jeans already suggested), but they still seemed to fit him perfectly. And now, with him manspreading over a bench in the gym, the red-white shirt with a car race theme, sleeves still rolled up, one arm hanging over his right thigh, holding onto the black leather beneath him, showing off a pretty vein you could literally already feel underneath your tongue. He was crazy. Crazy and mean and horrible and you knew all of this on purpose. His fingers on display, his thighs looking so big in those god forsaken jeans. Hair messy, jawline looking so sharp you were sure it could cut glass.

And as if all of this wasn’t bad enough, you suddenly heard the door clicking open. Your head jerked up, your eyes wide and your cheeks flushed burgundy. When you saw Seokmin walk through the door and finally into the living room, you felt your phone slip from your hand and onto the couch. He was carrying a gym bag, his hair still slightly damp. His skin was glowing and his eyes were widened in surprise. He most definitely hadn’t expected to see you.

“I thought you had class?” He said, his gym bag dropping onto the floor next to him. You slowly got up from the couch.

“Got canceled. Yours?” 

“Same.”

Nodding, you came to a stop in front of him, his tall figure towering over you, your chest heaving, head clouded by the smell of his cologne, of the knowledge he had posted that picture most definitely to get to you. With a heartbeat the speed of light, you looked into his eyes.

“Did Seungkwan tell you to post those pictures?” you whispered. Seokmin hesitated. Then he nodded. 

“Did it work?” he asked, head slightly tilted to the side. 

Instead of answering, your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to crash your lips against his. Seokmin immediately reacted, hands on the small of your back, pushing you closer. This kiss was different from the first, not less exciting or dizzying, but you felt more in control, felt more like this was it, this was what you had craved for so long. 

Seokmin, meanwhile, was on cloud nine, your lips feeling so incredible on his. For him this was all he had wanted for the last weeks and while he had gotten that small taste back then, nothing could have prepared him for what he was feeling right now. All sense of self control left his body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, asking to be let in. Once your tongues touched, there was no way in hell this was going to end. You moaned into his mouth, your nails digging into his skin while he moved his hands down, wrapping around your thighs to lift you up. Instinctively your legs swung around him, his hands leaving burns where he touched you. 

He moved over to the couch where you had sat before, sitting down with you now straddling him, both of your hands roaming around the other’s body. You let your fingers slide under his shirt and together you took it off, lips parting momentarily and letting you admire his toned chest, his abs and shoulders. You took your sweet time, fingers caressing his skin while your lips latched onto his neck, sucking harshly. Seokmin moaned, one hand on the back of your head, while the other laid on your thigh. 

With every passing second you felt yourself grow wetter, your hips beginning to grind down, both of your clothed crotches meeting, making both of you even more desperate. Seokmin grabbed your face, kissing you passionately once more, thumbs on either side of your cheeks. You whimpered when you felt him buck up, his erection already making your head spin. Never had you ever wanted anyone as bad. Finally, his hands moved to take off your shirt, leaving you in shorts and nothing else. A groan escaped him, hands all over your breasts, lips sucking your hard nipple inside his mouth, your head falling back, hands digging into his scalp. He was devouring your tits one at a time, hands squeezing them harshly as you couldn’t help but move your hips against him.

“S-Seokmin, please,” you whined, the arousal literally audible. Hearing you say his name like this… Seokmin parted from your chest and instead looked up at you. 

“Seungkwan told me something,” he whispered, one hand now moving down, while the other was back on your face, “he told me you take a… certain liking to my fingers.” The smirk on his face made you forget to kill Seungkwan later. You licked over your lips, biting down on it after, only to let out a small gasp when his right hand slipped into your shorts, pressing down on the wet spot between your legs. He sucked in a breath.

“Fuck, arren’t you wet for me, angel?” He whispered, while his other hand moved to your lips now, his eyebrows shooting up as he held eye contact. You knew what he wanted and you were more than eager to oblige. Parting your lips and stretching out your tongue, Seokmin felt himself twitch as he laid his index and middle finger on top of your tongue.

“Suck,” he then ordered you and without thinking twice, you did as asked. The fingers were long and thin and perfect and your eyes rolled back when you felt him press down on your tongue, his eyes becoming a little crazier with every passing second. 

“Both your holes stuffed with my fingers, what do you think?” his voice made goosebumps erupt all over your body, moaning around his digits while nodding wildly. Seokmin chuckled, not saying anything as he shoved your panties to the side, your hips almost automatically lifting so he could coat himself in your juice, his cock growing harder with every inch of him that got blessed with your arousal. 

“Think you can take two already?” when you nodded again, he immediately let his pretty fingers sink into you, both of you moaning at the contact. He sank in as deep as he could, until every bit was inside of you, knuckles deep, making him feel like he was either going to cum in his pants or simply explode. 

“God, you feel so fucking good, angel. Common, fuck yourself on my fingers and don’t forget to suck.” 

Your body began moving right away. Your mouth was sucking his fingers as if they were his cock, tongue pressing, tongue flicking against them. Head bobbing back and forth as your hips moved up and down on his other hand, his fingers feeling heavenly inside your walls. And when he put his thumb on your clit, you were sure the heavenly feeling would soon get you to cum all over him. 

“Good girl, doing so well for me, fuck,” Seokmin felt his throat dry up, sweat forming on the top of his head. How badly he wanted to fuck you right now, just get his fingers out and replace them with his throbbing cock - but he wanted to take his time with you. He wanted to see you live out your dream with his fingers buried inside of you, with your saliva coating his one hand and your perfect, sweet arousal the other. He wanted to see you come undone like this, fucking yourself on his fingers, before he took you the way he wanted, making you scream his name and beg him to make you cum with his cock. 

You felt your orgasm closing in on you, your movements becoming sloppier, eyes rolled back and the fingers in your mouth almost forgotten. Once Seokmin noticed, he grinned, beginning to fuck them inside your mouth himself, a high pitched moan escaping you and making another bit of precum shoot out of Seokmin’s cock. 

“Yeah, are you close, baby? Come on, I know you want to cum for me.” He leaned forward, the angle of his fingers changing slightly, hitting you right where you needed him and when his lips began kissing and licking at your neck, you couldn’t help but cum hard, your pussy clenching around his fingers over and over again, milking yourself for all you had. 

“Fuck,” he was in a daze, pulling both sets of fingers outside your holes, eyes searching for yours, before closing his lips around the fingers that had just made you cum so beautifully. You whimpered, pussy throbbing at the sight of him licking your arousal from his own digits. 

“Seokmin…,” you cried out and he pulled his fingers back, instead shooting forward now to kiss you again. You could taste yourself on his lips, hands now back around his neck, eyes closed shut as he kissed you with delicious desperation. 

“Fuck me on the windowsill, Seok, please.” 

He parted from you only for a second, before nodding and kissing you again, getting up with your legs wrapped around him, finally placing you on the narrow sill, hands gripping your shorts and panties and pulling them off your legs. You watched as he opened his own jeans next, letting them fall to the floor before finally revealing what you had only imagined so far. You couldn’t help but stare, your mouth watering at the sight of his big cock, all red at the tip and veiny, thick and a little bent to the left. Oh, how much you wanted him to ruin you. 

“I can’t wait to fuck you, baby,” he purred now, arms back around your body, lips closing around yours again. Every inch of you was on fire, your hands immediately finding his cock, one grabbing his balls, while the other was around his girth, moving up to let your thumb slide over his slit. He twitched in your hand, a beautiful moan coming out his mouth that had you shivering. Spreading your legs further, you brought his leaking cock to your lips, letting the tip circle your clit for a bit, both of you moaning into the other's mouth, before finally lining him up with your sopping core.

“Please, fuck me, I need you so bad,” your voice was muffled against his lips and he nodded, replacing your hand with his to push inside you, the stretch having your nails dig into his shoulders, whimpers escaping your pink lips as he lowered himself into you until he bottomed out, his forehead now pressing against yours.

“You feel so good, so perfect around me, baby,” he kissed you softly, hands sliding over your sides up to your tits, and once he began squeezing them again, his lips finding yours, he began thrusting, first deep and hard, before he quickened, your legs pulling him even closer. He was perfect. The way he held you, the way his thumb was on your nipple, lips now sucking on the sensitive skin on your neck, cock fucking you deep and hard and quick, leaving no room for complaints. You didn’t know how to ever stop moaning his name, how to be quiet, how to not have your body already signal another climax. 

“A-am close,” you whined and Seokmin nodded, head now in between your neck and shoulder, kissing every inch of your skin. Nothing had ever felt this good, no sex with anyone had ever made him feel as if  he was going to cum within seconds, while also wanting it to never end. He sped up once more, hands back on your face as he wanted to cum with your tongue inside his mouth, with your lips claimed as his. You tried to match his pace, desperate and breathy moans filling the air that already smelled like nothing but sex. There was nothing you could do to prevent the orgasm rushing over you, your walls clenching around his cock over and over again, his movements getting sloppier with every second, your and his salivas mixing, running over both your chins when he finally sucked your tongue into his mouth as he came, hot white cum spreading in your pussy that now milked him for all he had, every little drop as precious as the other. 

“Fuck, oh my god,” Seokmin breathed into your mouth, his hands caressing your hair as he kissed your neck, both of you slowly getting down from your highs. You two stayed like this for a while. Him, kissing your neck, your shoulders, your chin and finally your lips. It suddenly feels like everything has fallen into place perfectly, like this is what should have happened the first time he ever stepped into place, maybe even when you first laid eyes on him three years ago. He stays inside you, your combined releases only slowly dripping out of you. How could he make you feel this precious? This fragile in the best way?

“Y/N…”, he then whispers after a while, his hands next to you on the sill, his eyes so soft and yet full of guilt. For a second you think he regrets having done this but then you hear his next words.

“I’m so sorry I pushed you away. I never should have done that. I was scared of my own feelings and of taking advantage of you, and I get now that I should have just talked to you about this instead of acting like I was protecting you when in reality I was just protecting myself,” he caressed your face, a stray lock of hair finds it’s way behind your ear by his finger.

“I get it. And I’m sorry too, for, you know, completely shutting you out.” You smile weakly and Seokmin chuckles, kissing your cheek again.

“I would have done the same. So, you forgive me?”

“Isn’t you coming inside me enough reason to believe I have?” You tease him with a slight grin and he turns red, looking down at him still buried inside your warmth. 

“Thank you. For forgiving me,” he looks up at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “and also for letting me cum inside you.” 

You start laughing, pushing him away slightly by the shoulder and your heart seems to jump out of your chest when he kisses you again. You were sure  that you’ll never get tired of doing this. 

-

“So, if i want you to get turned on I’ll just need to post more gym pics?” Seokmin’s arm was around you, both of you freshly out of the shower seated on the couch. You scoffed, but felt your cheeks heat up.

“Shut up,” you couldn’t help but smile though, the fact he was so close to you, holding you. It was all too much but in the best way possible. You never wanted to let this man go again. 

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered”, he giggled now, and god, had you ever heard a more adorable sound? You doubted it. Just when you were about to respond (mainly to tell him to shut up again), you heard your phone ring. Looking over Seokmin’s lap, you saw your phone where you’d left it. He followed your gaze and grabbed your phone for you, a knowing smile on his lips.

“If we were to unlock this now, what would we find, hm?”

Ignoring him, you finally picked up. It was Seungkwan.

“Hi traitor,” you said, eyebrows raised. Seungkwan scoffed on the other side.

“Oh please, you can’t tell me y’all didn’t fuck.”

Seokmin, who was very obnoxiously leaning in closer to hear the conversation, giggled again, his cheeks turning rosy. You rolled your eyes.

“Doesn’t mean I appreciate you spilling my kinks to people you barely know.”

“You know you do kind of love me for it though. So, you two together now?” You froze in place, while your eyes moved very slowly to look at Seokmin. What you saw made your stomach turn and twist and tumble and millions of butterflies suddenly started dancing Gangnam Style. His eyes were so fond, his features soft, the rose on his cheeks now accented by his bright perfect smile. When he nodded, his hand coming to caress your head, you couldn’t help but smile the brightest you ever had.

“As a matter of fact, yes. Yes, we are.”

[biteofcherry]

Darkness between the stars

Darth!Steve Rogers x female reader

Author's Note: On my recent wave of feels after Anakin's cameo in Ahsoka, I couldn't stop thinking about powerful Jedi Steve Rogers, who was once galaxy's hope, turning dark. This is very loosely inspired by Anakin's storyline, without going full on Vader-look (because Steve's face is too pretty to cover it with that ugly helmet; sorry, I make the rules here).

summary: You followed your Master when he gave in to the dark side, not believing the twisted values the Emperor spew, but because you couldn't imagine being anywhere other than by Steve's side. Even if you accepted the fact Steve's heart may forever belong to the woman he once loved.

warnings: angst; hurt/comfort; soft dark!Steve Rogers; some power imbalance; choking kink; implied age gap (since Steve was the Reader's Master), but Reader is of age

The threat of thudding footsteps caused a spike of fear among the Imperial officers passing in the corridor outside - you sensed the stench of it. You could easily imagine them scattering away as quickly as possible, or trying to blend with the walls.

As cowardly as it was, it was also wise. Finding yourself in the path of an angry Sith Lord would end badly.

Thankfully, the medical droid stitching up your leg had no real human feelings, so it continued its work without a hitch even as the seal to the med bay opened and Steve stormed in.

All in his towering, dark glory.

Black robe swiping the floor, deadly lightsaber strapped to the utility belt, shiny buckles on the reinforced leather gloves on his hands. 

Darth Nomad. Sith Lord.

Once upon a time a great, idealistic Jedi Master, Steve Rogers.

Though the Jedi Order no longer existed and his path had turned dark and bloody, he still remained Steve to you.

Only in privacy. Always in your heart, even as you addressed him as Master or Nomad when other's ears and eyes were on you. He owned you; his claws ran far deeper and clutched stronger than Palpatine’s influence on him.

You harbored a crush on your Master for years, hiding your thoughts and longing every day. As well every night, when you rested in your chamber at the Jedi temple and he returned into the arms of his beloved wife in her lush suite.

When you followed Steve to kneel at the Emperor's feet and pledge loyalty to the dark side, you perfectly sold the lie of the ambitious, proud apprentice who was bitter the Jedi were too weak. You claimed to want to continue your training and be on the winning side, the side of true power.

What you truly wanted was to be with Steve, even if it was only to suffer unrequited love as you helped him drown the world in blood.

The Emperor somehow bought it, or maybe simply thought it useful to have you serve the Empire, no matter your actual motivation. 

However, Steve saw right through you.

He didn't confront you right away. Not for months. Until the two of you were on a solo quest, treading through the lush flora of an outer-rim planet, searching for an ancient artifact - much like you used to do as Jedi.

Did he catch you looking at his profile too long? Did he sense the change in your heartbeat whenever he was close? Was your Force bond so strong that he glimpsed into your desperate dreams?

Or maybe Steve simply knew you so well, after all the years. 

When he reached for you, when he touched you, you knew it could deepen your later suffering. But you still gave in, if only for one night. If only you could taste him and fall apart under his command this one time. 

But it wasn’t just one night. Nor a few chance encounters over the years. 

Whatever it was between the two of you, has become a regularity. A wicked norm that sated, as well enhanced the craving that’s been burning inside of you. It seemed there was never enough; the desire for him simmered beneath your skin every day and your desperate love pushed you further into howling darkness. 

Eerie, that love was what pushed Steve to the dark side as well. 

There were other factors, layers upon layers, but it was the heart that sealed the deal. For the both of you. 

Your tragedy was that Steve’s heart would never be yours. 

So you fed off on everything else you were given - Steve’s attention, his lust, his protectiveness. 

Which was why he stomped through the Executor like a deadly storm cloud - in his case, literally deadly - led by rage.

You knew it was mostly directed at the scum who dared to wound you, but some of it was also at you. For being careless in your small mission, which you attempted to keep secret from him. 

His black cloak floated ominously around Steve as he stepped inside; his fingers clenched into fists, stretching the leather of his gloves.

“How serious is the injury?” Even in anger, Steve’s voice remained calm. 

You opened your mouth to say it’s not that bad, but he gave you a pointed look that meant he wasn’t talking to you and that you were in serious trouble. The kind that may end with your ass bruised. 

“A level two blaster wound to the thigh,” the medical droid reported. “It missed the artery and the muscle will rebuild with the protein enhancer we’ve injected. Patient’s skin has been sutured.”

Steve’s gaze flicked to your bare leg, eyes narrowing as he assessed the dressing over your wound. The droid wasn’t bothered by it, but if a living person was here instead, they’d sweat in fear of his disapproval. 

“The patient may experience impaired mobility for the next day. No other complications are expected.”

Steve nodded, his eyes still on your leg. Though his trimmed beard gentled the sharp line of his jaw, you still saw the nervous tick of muscle. Then his gaze shifted along your half-dressed body and settled on your face. 

He stepped closer to the bed and cupped your chin. Scent of familiar leather pleasantly dispersed the annoying smell of medical antiseptics. 

“I’m gone for two days and you get yourself in trouble, Stardust.” Steve squeezed your chin a tad harder. “Should I keep you at my side at all times, like an irresponsible apprentice freshly in training?”

“Or-” he leaned in; the blue of his eyes searing like his old lightsaber- “maybe I’ll confiscate your weapon and keep you as a bedwarmer only?”

Before you managed to utter I’m sorry for failing, Master, Steve was lifting you in his arms. Stealing your breath with the gesture.

One arm beneath your knees, the other under your back. Your heart stopped for a moment, then rushed in a rapid pattern as he carried you out of the med bay.   

It had to be a bizarre sight - the Dark Lord of the Sith, most feared in the whole galaxy Darth Nomad, who snapped necks with a flick of a wrist; was carrying a woman through the Star Dreadnought.

However, no one dared to stare, or even flick a curious glance your way. 

Steve showed softness when you both laid spent after fucking, or simply wrapping an arm around your middle when you were sleeping, but he never carried you like that. 

Even when he wanted you in a certain position when he fucked you, he either told you to do it the right way, or used the Force to bend your body how he wished. 

Being cradled in his arms, out in the open, soothed that deep longing for true care on his part. Taunted you with deep feeling that you knew would never be real.

“Something’s troubling you.” Steve stated when the double-sealed entrance to his (and yours) chambers closed behind you. “And it’s not your injury, I sense.”

He crossed the space to the bedroom, where cold blue light changed into unsettling red that you learned to associate with safety. Black and red used to mean the enemy, the danger, even death, but Steve made you love it. Conditioned you to see it as the setting you belonged in. 

“Well, my failure in successfully finishing my deal on Serenno,” you shrugged, but instantly cringed as you felt that lie failed miserably.

You weren’t a bad liar. When it came to Steve, however, it was as if the ability was malfunctioning. 

At least ever since he slipped his gloved finger between your lips for the first time and softly commanded you to admit how much you craved him.  

You yelped as Steve suddenly dropped you onto the bed. The muscle in your thigh spasmed, sending a painful jolt. Fingers gripping the dark sheets, you breathed through the wave of ache as you lifted your gaze to look at Steve.

His black robe dropped to the floor. He set his lightsaber down on the black, lacquered table, then unbuckled his utility belt. It fell to the floor with a dull thud. 

“You do not lie to me, Stardust,” Steve’s glare was a warning as he braced his hands on his hips and waited for your honesty.

The reason hidden deep in your heart could bring you more trouble than withholding the truth from Steve. You feared speaking it aloud may cut you out of Steve’s life completely, if he learned that you were desperate for so much more than his cock. 

But there was no way of hiding it from him for long. Not when he was on a hunt to rip that truth out of you.

Steve would get to it one way, or another. One could perhaps be a sexually torturous way, but there was also a chance of him reaping it from your mind with the Force. 

You took a deep breath, forcing a cold sheet to form around your fluttering heart and make you seem indifferent to your own emotions, like you did at the beginning of your life on the dark side. Your fingers tightened their grip on the smooth, dark sheets.

“Your gesture startled me,” you admitted. “I know I’m of certain value to you, as a lover and as a former Padawan. Being carried like that, like you cared, incited foolish thoughts in my head.” 

Steve’s eyes narrowed as a frown marred his forehead. His head tilted slightly to the side, his gaze never allowing yours to drop. 

“Elaborate,” he requested, but you knew that despite the calm tone it was a command. 

“It almost ignited a stupid hope to have your heart,” you spat out bitterly, “which would never happen, I’m aware, Master. I know there was only one woman who had your heart and it lies buried with your wife.” 

With the woman who wasn’t strong enough to pull him off that edge of destruction, nor had the guts to fall with him and rule by his side. 

Steve’s hand shot forward, fingers curled in an open grip. The yank of incredibly powerful Force pulled your body upwards, as if you were a featherlight ragdoll. He made your body flow in the air, inches above the floor. 

The pressure around your neck cinched. He wasn’t touching you, yet it felt as if Steve’s gloved fingers were wrapped around the front of your neck, squeezing your throat. 

It spiked fear and adrenaline, but also roused your body in ways no other lover ever could. 

Your body froze in place right in front of Steve, the Force still keeping you hanging in the air. 

“You are right to say my heart was buried with my wife.” Steve growled through clenched teeth. “It’s left in the past that we burned to the ground.” 

A gasp escaped your lips as Steve’s hand firmly wrapped around your neck. Though he still used the Force to move your body, it was also his sheer strength behind his movement as he walked you backwards until your back met the wall.

“You’re not in my heart, Stardust, because I no longer have one,” his hot breath tickled your cheek as Steve’s face inched even closer. 

“You’re not my love. You’re more. You’re  m i n e.”

What filled your heart felt similar to the overwhelming lightness you used to be connected with, once upon a time.

The Force eased back and your body sagged, but Steve’s hand was still firm on your throat. Holding you up as your toes tried to reach the floor and give you some support. 

No, he wouldn’t let you down easily. He would drive in the point that he was your support. He was your sustenance. He would hold you up, as well destroy you. 

“You’re my fucking everything!” 

Steve bit your bottom lip, making you cry out at the sudden sting. Then the flick of his tongue soothed it before he swiped between your parted lips. The way Steve kissed you was more consuming than the darkness you dwelled in; more burning than the lightsaber’s blade. 

When he pulled away, your lips were swollen and tingling, and your cunt was pulsing with need. 

“You’ll repent for endangering what’s mine-” Steve’s chuckle was a brush of tempting darkness as his free hand slid up your wounded thigh- “tomorrow, when it’s fully healed.” 

“Yes, Master,” you moaned as his fingers changed their course and teased your folds beneath the short, medical robe. 

[seoulmatez]

୨♡୧ UNDER THE FESTIVAL LIGHTS — bakugo katsuki x f!reader. 1.6 wc. sfw. fluff. royalty au. knight!bakugo and princess!reader. inspired by the floating lights scene in tangled.

the air beyond the castle walls feels lighter, less stifling, as you inhale it through your nose. it isn't often that you find yourself in town and away from the restrictions put on you by your parents—and alone, at that. maybe the fact that you were given strict instructions to not leave the castle today is what makes it so liberating.

pulling the hood of your cloak over your face, you start down the main road. the path is bustling with people—small children chasing after one another, young girls twirling to show off their festival attire, and more vendors lined up than you can count. you imagine that every other stand is selling lanterns in addition to their regular inventory.

your eyes wander between each of them in search of a booth that has one in your favorite color but before you can get a good look at any, something is blocking your way. something tall, metal, and pointed at the tip—it's a spear. you sigh at the sight. without even looking at the hand attached to the body that wields it, you're positive you know who it is.

"i have to give it to you," a deep, familiar voice starts. the spear is lifted from the ground and replaced by a person, that being the knight assigned to you—katsuki. "you made it pretty far this time, princess."

"why are you here?" you ask, exasperation lacing your voice as your eyes shift to see if the man's presence is earning you any stares. the entire point of your cloak was to remain hidden, to not look like the princess of the kingdom. having a highly regarded knight speak to you so casually seems like it would be enough to blow your cover.

"i should be the one asking you that," he retorts. his carnelian eyes bore down into you with a hard stare. you stopped finding it intimidating a long time ago. "i thought your parents made it clear that you weren't to attend."

you cross your arms and groan. of course you were aware of your parents' wishes, they had spent nearly the whole day reminding you that you did not have their permission to leave the castle to go to the annual festival of lights. you met their demands with grumbled words of understanding that you had no intention of sticking to.

sneaking out had been risky but you were sure that by the time you made it past the gates, you would have enough time to see the lanterns before someone was sent to retrieve you. it seemed as though your absence was noticed far sooner than you anticipated, if bakugo's presence was any evidence.

"come on, then. i'm taking you back." katsuki's fingers close around your arm as he begins, presumably, to where he left his horse.

"wait!" you plead with him in a hushed tone, careful to not draw any unwanted attention. begging isn't very becoming of you, but since you put in so much effort to get here, and because it's him, you meet bakugo's eye with a stare that you're sure is brimming with desperation. "please let me stay a while. you of all people know that it's been my dream to be a part of this."

for a split second, katsuki's resolve wavers. for a moment, he doesn't see the princess; he sees the girl he grew up with, the one who he considered a friend before royalty. he quickly clears the thought from his head, remembering that he was sent here with specific commands—ones that didn't involve personal feelings. "i was ordered to find you and take you home."

"can't you just tell a little white lie and say that it took you a while?" bakugo clicks his tongue at your continued attempt to persuade him. you pay his subtle show of annoyance little mind when speaking your next words. "it's almost dark. they'll be letting them go any minute now. i swear we won't be here long."

he's getting ready to repeat himself when he catches sight of the expression painted on your face. it's not the grin you wear when you're poking fun at him or the frown you sport when he does the same. it's one that toes the line between hopeful and dejected. a sparkle of optimism glimmers in your glassy eyes but the smile pulling at your lips looks as though you've already accepted defeat. katsuki kicks himself for being at your mercy. he hopes he won't regret this. "ten minutes. if they don't start in ten minutes, we're leaving."

you gasp and nod your head enthusiastically. "deal!"

the joy that lights up your eyes is brighter than any lantern, katsuki thinks. maybe it's selfish and a little unprofessional, but he's glad he didn't deprive himself of the image before him. it's rare to see you express such delight these days.

"i have to go buy a lantern." you take a step back and gesture to the endless stalls set up alongside the road. "you stay here."

the skin between bakugo's eyebrows creases with a frown. "absolutely not."

"people will recognize me if you're tailing after me," you try to tell him but you know how seriously katsuki takes his duties as your guard. it's a miracle he isn't dragging you back to the castle. you know now that he's found you, he isn't willing to let you out of his sight.

you figure that since he is going against direct orders by allowing you to stay, you can meet him in the middle.

"fine, you can come with me." you point an accusing finger at his armored chest. "just keep your distance and try not to make it obvious, please."

he breathes out a laugh at your demand. "as you wish, your highness."

despite bakugo's interruption, the buzzing atmosphere of the town persists. the crowds are thick and navigating them as you go from booth to booth is a new experience. you're used to people clearing the way for you. as strange as it may sound, bumping shoulders with the masses is oddly exhilarating. it makes you feel as though you aren't some untouchable, fragile being. for the first time in a long time, you don't feel like the princess; you just feel like yourself.

katsuki can see it in the way you easily converse with the vendors and offer kind smiles to the children who accidentally knock into you. the practiced poise you've been carrying yourself with since adolescence is slipping. he's sure it'll be back by the time the two of you return to the castle, so katsuki decides to enjoy the glimpse of this you and your unbridled excitement while he can.

you think there are around five minutes left on your clock by the time you've acquired a lantern and begin to look for a somewhat secluded spot to light it and let it go. a patch of grass near the water catches your eye and you point it out to bakugo before starting toward the site.

your dress bunches as you sit on your calves and you're sure that the damp earth with leave stains on the fabric but it's the least of your concerns. you pat the space next to you in a silent gesture for the knight to sit. he does, although, he sits in the opposite direction with his back to the water so that he's facing the town.

you fumble with the pack of matches you bought in addition to your lantern in an effort to get one of the wooden sticks out quickly. when you're finally able to pluck one out from the rest, you strike it on the side of the box, the red tip turning dark as the flame erupts. as you bring the fire to the wick of the candle housed within the lantern, you ask your companion, "does it look like they're starting?"

bakugo's eyes flit up to the darkened sky in search of any lights. he's about to tell you no when the first one appears, slowly and lazily drifting through the air. another follows and then two before he loses count of the glowing lights. "they are."

you're tempted to turn around so that you can see them while you wave out the flame but before you can, your gaze stops at the water. a reflection of the lanterns in the sky glistens on the soft blue waves. you couldn't fight the smile growing on your lips even if you tried.

over his shoulder, katsuki watches you take in the sight reflected on the water. he notices that you haven't let your lantern go yet.

"aren't you going to let yours go?" he asks.

you look down to your hands as though you had forgotten about it—and with the view ahead of you, part of you had. the lantern is light in the palms, so much so that you have to hold it down to be sure it doesn't sail away before you're ready. you take a moment to give it one last look before you tentatively release your grasp on it.

the wind picks up the lantern and carries it through the brisk evening air. you follow the path it takes as it soars through the sky, joining others like it on their journey to who knows where. the image is one you've only ever seen from the balcony of your bedroom. it's different being so close to the beauty and having contributed to it yourself.

you turn to look at katsuki over your shoulder. his vermilion gaze is already locked on you. another smile, a real, genuine one, stretches across your lips. you hadn't planned on it, but you're glad that you were able to spend this moment with bakugo. "isn't it so pretty?"

katsuki hums in agreement, although, he wonders if you know that he means you.

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

[generational-atrophy]

Hi!!!!!!

Can I request the main 8 with a poet/writer s/o?

The main 8 find their s/o's poems or writing about them and it's like how much they love them !!!

(hopefully this makes sense :D have a nice day!

Also your writing super coolio )

hetalia allies + germany with a s/o who's a writer

1.6k words ~ gender neutral heacanons + mini scenarios

tw: swearing, thats it!

a/n: i believe this is after the cutoff so its only 6 characters sorry! also ty :)

America

Alfred may not seem like it, considering his less-than-stellar attention span, but he can be quite an avid reader if he wants to be.

In fact, when he was travelling the western frontier, he often wrote poems himself.

He loves your work, (he’s always the first one showing up on release day!) but he doesn’t love how much time it takes away from you.

Seeing you exhausted and frustrated after a long night, trash can filled with discarded drafts, just breaks his heart. He’ll make sure your office is always stacked with 

Alfred wasn’t usually so easily swayed by cheesy romances, despite his sweet soft for them. But now, reading your book, he couldn’t help flushing at every interaction his favourite couple had.

The one he was reading now, well, it just took the cake. Spending the day wandering East Potomac Park? It was something out of his dreams- just endlessly… familiar?

Wait, hadn’t he done that recently with you?

Oh.

He set the book aside, burying his face in his hands as he blushed wildly.

Guess the blue-eyed, blond love interest hero was a bit more than a stereotype after all.

England

Ah, a writer. Arthur has long admired the literary arts, having many a classic writer come from his home. Yes, he’d quite enjoy someone like that.

He loves reading your work, regardless of what it is, but he’d prefer you read it to him. Then he can get all of your silly little notes along with it. Just for him <3

Although he wouldn’t appreciate you spending all day working. He’s not needy usually, but by the time you two go to bed, he’s DESPERATE for your attention.

He tries not to disturb you, though.

From the moment he picked up your work, he could tell where your inspiration for the main love interest came from. Sandy-haired, green eyes, tall but not too tall, always how you had described him.

Of course, that made his reading even more of a joy.

The only thing that bothered him was how the protagonist described themself. Always dismissed, below-par, never worthy of his love. Now, that just wouldn’t stand.

So he began to write as well. In between the margins, on attached papers, on the sides, everywhere. Correcting every disparaging thought.

Then when he finished, he handed the book back to you, with a cheeky comment.

“It was absolutely wonderful, my love.”

Whether you ever saw the notes or not didn’t matter. He had made the book even more perfect, at least to himself.

France

As said before, Francis is a very artsy guy. Very artsy. Although he’s not always skilled at making art himself… so having another artist would help with that.

He’s absolutely the number one collector of your works. Every scrap, every trashed draft, every misprint, he’s keeping everything.

He’s also pretty ok with how much time it takes! It gives him time to relax, or maybe even join in working on creative projects.

Although he would insist on regular breaks. Fortunately, Francis is a hedonist at heart, so those breaks will always provide much inspiration.

True beauty is rare. Living for so long had proven that time and time again for Francis. It isn’t natural, it isn’t easy, and it never lasts. But…that doesn’t make the pursuit of it any more meaningless.

Even more rare than its existence, is the constant presence of it.

But when he read your poems, venerating and elucidating your own feelings, he felt as if he had found it. God, it was beautiful. Your words, unlike any other’s he had read in his many years, made him feel as if he was falling in love all over again.

Instantly, he was transported into your shoes, viewing himself in a light that had never been shone on him before.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself now. It felt wrong- wrong to not give absolute reverence to this piece of art.

If he had had access to the Louvre, he would’ve kept it there. But, well, his kitchen wall would have to do for now.

China

Finally, some good fucking talent. He's very excited about his S/O being an artist! He's not much of one himself these days, but it's good to see the youth catching up to the old masters.

As much as he loves you, he's very opinionated. Everything you write he either LOVES or HATES. Though he's always excited to show off his favourites of your works, he's very proud of you.

Though he absolutely is not stand by while you spend all day sitting around and writing. Get off the couch and come with him, you're never gonna write anything real good if you don't have any life experience!

Because of that, he's gonna be a little hesitant to cater to you while you're writing.

Your last work was good, to be sure, but nothing like this. Your newest release blew him off his feet with ease, captivating him with every turn of the page. One of his favourites, he thought to himself, that'll be one he'd have to return to.

The only problem was that it was almost over already. He wasn't that much of a fast reader, was he? Well, I guess it's easy to go quickly if you love it.

And love it he did, to the very last page. Wait, this is the last page, isn't it? Why are there three more?

He flipped through them, his eyes quickly widening as he read the last page.

A love letter? To... him?

“Is this in every edition?” He asked you shakily, looking to you for reassurance.

“Yeah?”

“That's...”  He brought a hand to his mouth, covering his blushing cheeks  trying to hide the tears welling in his eyes, “That's such a waste of paper...”

Russia

Frankly, Ivan doesn't care much what you do. The most exciting part of you being a writer to him is just that you'd need to spend plenty of time at home.

But he'd always read your work. (Especially rough drafts, he's really good at being blunt but not mean.) And as time goes on, he'll fall in love with your talent more and more. Despite his country's many famous writers, he thinks none of them stack up to you.

He wouldn't mind how much time you dedicate to your craft, but he'd make sure to take good care of you while you're writing. He's truly very worried about you withering away in that desk chair of yours...

“Oh, I absolutely loved the part where-“

Ivan had been ranting for hours, going over every single detail that had caught his eye. Every time he thought of something new, it would lead to another excited train of thought. But there was one thing they all had in common... he really loved one character.

”He's strong!“ He'd gush, ”He's kind, and loving, and I just want him to have a happy ending!“

You let him explain over and over again how much he looked up to this character, wanting to change to be more like him in every way.

But it wasn't until he calmed down a little bit that you felt it was time to reveal the truth.

”Yeah, you know... he's based on someone I know.“

”Really? Who? I must meet him!“ He clasps his hands together in excitement.

”You, you big dummy.“

He pauses for a moment, his smile fading. He looks upset for a moment, trying to figure out how.

”But... but I am none of those things.“

”You are to me. I mean, whenever I thought about you... I'd just write that character.“

He laughs awkwardly, “You are joking, right?”

“No, of course not. You're strong... and you're kind....” he shifts away from you, tears welling in his eyes, “You're loving... and... and I'll give you a happy ending, ok?”

Before you can react, he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, burying his face in your hair.

”Promise?“

”Promise.“

Germany

Ludwig would definitely love a S/O who writes. Mostly for one specific reason, though. Writers, well, they see the world in a different way. Whether that be in a more romantic, more objective, or more sympathetic way, he doesn't care. He wants to talk things through with someone like you.

He wouldn't be a total fanboy, but he'd still love your work.  Although, he might not show it the way you want... it's hard for him not to criticize. He wouldn't be too harsh though!

He wouldn't mind how much you get sucked into your writing either. He knows what it's like to be dedicated to your craft, and he won't bother you too much.

Ludwig had never been an emotional person. Never, not once, throughout his many years was he truly moved to tears by fiction. Art depicting real life? Of course, many times. But he simply never found fiction as compelling as reality.

That was, of course, until he read your own works. Now, going through what you had so effortlessly created, he couldn't help tearing up at nearly every turn of events.

The way you were about to put him into the character's shoes without him even realizing, forcing him along the same journey they had gone through. It was... stunning, to say the least.

But when one of the characters began to fall in love, it was like nothing he had experienced before. Not because of any significant jump in quality, but just because... you had written it.

For a moment he sat in silence, pondering the book when he realized.

Was this what it felt like for you to fall in love with him?

It sent a chill down his spine. No, he didn't feel any differently, not at all. But... he had assumed you couldn't possibly love him as much as he loved you. Except... now?

Well, if this was how you had felt. He couldn't possibly let you go anytime soon.

[oliviaischillin1204]

you gotta be kitten me

Pairings: Platonic Prinxiety

Word Count: 1,822 words

just a silly little thing i came up with when i used to play neko atsume djfhghdjskjdh. good times man

Some days were meant for grand adventures, Roman thought. Trying new things, climbing new heights, and achieving goals beyond your wildest dreams.

Other days were for sitting in the living room, half-watching a musical bootleg on the TV as you rapidly refreshed Neko Atsume over and over and over again.

Roman groaned for the fifth time in as many minutes as his garden, yet again, failed to attract any new cats. He knew the point of the game was to be patient, but come on! His entire yard was decked out with the highest quality cat trees, toys, and trinkets possible, all elegantly displayed along the beautiful Zen Garden backyard expansion model. He kept his food bowls stocked with Deluxe Tuna Bitz, even upgrading to a nice plate of sashimi or two when he had gold fish to spare. There was no reason at all why he should be so incapable of attracting rare cats to his garden.

“Lookit. I got another one.”

And of course, the worst fact of all: Virgil was fucking great at the game.

Roman groaned in exasperation. “Which one now?”

Virgil turned his phone around and held it up for Roman to see. They were both on the couch, lying toe-to-head so they could both recline while sharing the good blanket between them. After a few moments of blinking, Roman could make out the distinctive striped shirt, cap, and baseball bat that belonged to none other than--

“Joe DiMeowgio,” Virgil confirmed. Roman’s jaw dropped.

“What? How did you find him?”

Virgil shrugged, pulling the phone back and tapping the screen smugly. “He likes the baseball.”

Roman made an affronted noise. “That’s like, one of the most basic, boring, blah toys you can have in the entire game.”

“He’s a simple cat with simple needs, Princey,” Virgil deadpanned. Roman groaned, draping his arm over his eyes in defeat, but his dramatics were interrupted by Virgil’s foot popping out of the blanket to kick him.

“How dare you kick a man when he’s down, you villain!”

Virgil ignored him, settling back into the couch now that he’d stopped Roman’s whining. “Maybe just try switching up your yard once in a while. The cats need variety.”

The two fell silent again. Roman pouted down at his phone as he pondered the Goodies shop in the game’s menu. It was true, he didn’t like to switch out his items often-- his preferred method for games like this was to save up until he could get all of the expensive items first. It made sense to him; why waste time collecting cheap items if he could get the most payback from the expensive ones?-- but now, he found himself scrolling through the early pages of the shop’s catalogue, looking for a new toy to catch his eye.

And, well... something did:

Fluff-Thing Teaser: a ball of fluff that inspires playful strikes. Your cat will never get bored of this thing!

Roman eyed the toy in the photo. It was definitely a cheap one, costing only 100 regular fish. But what really caught his eye was the wording-- “inspires playful strikes”.

His eyes drifted from the screen in front of him, to Virgil’s foot, still exposed from when he’d kicked Roman earlier.

He turned the idea over in his head, his lips twitching into a smile. He dropped his hand to the side, and, as subtly as he possibly could, summoned a small handheld toy with a ball of fluff on the end.

Clearing his throat to cover the laugh building up inside him, Roman rearranged himself so the Fluff-Thing Teaser was hidden from Virgil’s sight, resting on his own chest so the fluff-ball tip was an inch away from Virgil’s foot.

He waited. Waited. Waited...

And swiped the piece of fluff straight down Virgil’s sole.

The reaction was minor, but immediate-- Virgil jerked, his foot pulling back minutely as a startled gasp burst out of him.

“What was that?” he asked sternly. Roman looked at him over his phone.

“What?”

He thought he sounded pretty innocent, but Virgil clearly wasn’t fooled. “Don’t do that.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! I swear on my sword, I haven’t touched you.” Which wasn’t a lie. Roman hadn’t touched him-- the Fluff-Thing Teaser had.

He dropped his eyes back to his screen, feigning obliviousness to Virgil’s glare. After a few moments, however, he too returned his attention to his game.

Roman bit his lip, flipping quickly through the item pages for his next trick. He quickly found it:

Wing-Thing Teaser: Mild curiosity will turn into obsession once your cat starts pouncing on this tufted teaser.

Roman bit his lip again to avoid laughing aloud. He focused on swapping the Fluff-Thing for the Wing-Thing (listen, he didn’t choose the names, okay?) and hid all but the feathery tip in his sleeve. He coughed, shifting himself again, and swiped the soft toy down just beneath Virgil’s toes.

“Fuck!” Virgil burst out again, yanking his leg all the way back to his chest. He grabbed his foot defensively as he rubbed at the skin. “Fucking-- stop that.”

“I’m literally not doing anything,” Roman lied, but he couldn’t stop the smile that was curling up at the edges of his mouth. “Why are you being twitchy?”

Virgil glowered at him. “I’m always twitchy.”

“Well, you’re being extra twitchy today. Just sit back and look at the cats.”

For a moment Roman was worried that Virgil would get up and ruin his game, but luckily for him, the anxious side merely rubbed at his foot once more before, hesitantly, stretching his legs out in front of him again. His brow was still furrowed, and Roman kept his eyes directly on his phone.

Waiting for the perfect moment to strike with a straight face was nearly impossible, but he knew that Virgil was expecting it now. As soon as his eyes caught sight of the Wild-Thing Teaser in the catalogue, he knew this one would be much more obvious than the first two toys.

Well. Time to give up the act.

Roman shoved the fluffy ball of the Wild-Thing directly in between Virgil’s first and second toe. The anxious side made a noise of confusion, then shock, then burst into laughter.

“Dude!” he managed through his giggles, reaching for his foot to yank the toy away. Scrunching his toes around it instinctively only made it tickle more, and Roman watched with amusement bright on his face as Virgil giggled at the accidental self-tickling.

“Did I do that?” Roman asked innocently. Virgil glared at him as he eyed the item with a fair amount of suspicion.

“Wait,” he said suddenly, eyes widening. “Is this the--”

“The Wild-Thing Teaser? Well, it appears so!” Roman finished for him, grinning widely as he waved his phone in the air before reading the description. “‘Talk about a big tease! Just try to stop your cats from pouncing at this fluffy fur ball.’”

He snorted. “Aw, looks like they’re right! This kitty right here couldn’t help but play with the lil’ fuzzball!”

He relished in watching Virgil grow more and more flustered at the teasing.

“Shut up-- I’m not-- I’m not a cat,” he protested. Roman laughed at his flustered indignation.

“Well, you’re certainly acting like one! Are you having fun playing with your new toy, Mr. Meow-Meow?”

He laughed louder as Virgil realized that he’d been rolling the small fuzz ball in between his fingers. The emo side threw the toy to the side, crossing his arms and pouting. “Well, you’re the one being freaking immature, summoning toys like that!”

“Ah, but that’s the spirit of the game, isn’t it? Finding all the cute little toys that make your little kittens as happy as can be--”

“I’m not a cat!”

“Oh, yeah?” Roman asked. “Prove it.”

Suddenly one hand darted forward and clamped around Virgil’s ankle, where he’d accidentally left his leg within Roman’s range. With the other hand, he summoned the next tool on the list, and this time he was lucky enough to see the recognition dawn on Virgil’s face.

“Roman!” he hissed (another point in Roman’s ‘Virgil is a cat’ agenda), but he was too slow, because Roman was already flicking and fluttering the Zebra Grass Gadget all up and down the bare sole of Virgil’s foot.

The result was immediate: Virgil squealed, yanking his foot back helplessly against Roman’s much stronger grip as the toy tickled his sole.

“‘Watch your cats’ fascination turn to obsession!’,” Roman recited over the sound of Virgil’s giggles. He made sure to brush the grassy toy in rhythm to his words as he continued, “‘It has a fluffy teaser tip that they just. Can’t. Resist!’”

“Stop ihihihit!” Virgil said through giggles. His other leg kicked out in time with his bursts of laughter, but Roman’s grip kept the captured foot nice and snug as he fluttered all along the wrinkles of his sole.

“Which toy is your favorite, kitty?” Roman teased. “Or do you just love them all so much?”

Virgil looked like he was about to argue (well, as much as he could through his silly laughter) so Roman flipped the Zebra Grass Gadget around and scratched its stem on the ball of Virgil’s foot. That was enough to make any snarky words die on Virgil’s tongue, replacing them with desperate screeches of laughter instead.

“Okay-- okay okay okahahahay!” he gasped, rocking back and forth in his trapped state. Roman moved to trail the stem up and down the arch of his foot, and Virgil gripped the fabric of the couch like he was fighting off torture. “No more, no more-- please it tihihihickles!”

That was enough for Roman. He slowed the tickling until he was just barely grazing Virgil’s foot with the stem; he waited until Virgil had calmed down before quickly flipping the toy around and giving one more tickle with the grassy side.

“Ah!” Virgil yelped. He yanked his leg back, and this time Roman let him go.

He couldn’t help but grin at Virgil as the anxious side caught his breath. The soft grass of the toy floated through the air as Roman lazily twirled it around his fingers.

“Well, well, well...” he drawled. “I’ll be honest, I think this is even more fun than the actual game!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Virgil said, face still flushed.

“Aw, you don’t think so? You sounded like you were having lots of fun. These cat toys really do work... kitten.”

Suddenly Virgil was lunging forward through the air, arms outstretched. Roman only had half a second to scream before the emo side had him pinned on his back.

“You think I act like a cat?” Virgil asked. “Lemme ask you this, Princey: did you forget that cats have claws?”

He raised his hands, ten fingers wiggling just above Roman’s stomach, and Roman realized that this game was about to get much harder.

[empress-of-snark]

only murders “ah, love!” thoughts (spoilers)

okay, so I think the whole thing about Loretta being obsessed with Ben Glenroy is just a red herring—it’s still too early in the game for a plot twist like that to determine the killer, so it’s probably more like she’s inspired by him or had a crush on him but was embarrassed about it because he’s younger than her

I’m still pretty ambivalent about Tobert, and I wasn’t really feeling any sparks between him and Mabel. The kiss felt especially lacking when played against Martin Short and Meryl Streep’s great chemistry

also I love love love Loretta’s apartment—that little reading nook is what dreams are made of!!

yay Sazz! Love her, love her weird friendship with Charles and her determination to help unpack his many issues, and the fact that she’s still seeing Jan in prison is hilarious 😂

so now we know that Charles is the one who punched Ben, and I’m guessing that his threatening “Stay away from her” was probably about Loretta, seeing as he broke up the fight between them earlier in the night

I’m pretty relieved to see Joy go (that is, if she’s gone for good). I liked her well enough, but she and Charles don’t seem like a very good match. If they worked on their communication issues maybe, but I feel like he needs someone who won’t stress him out so much lol. Someone a bit more mellow, y’know?

I wanna see the Arconia residents more often. This season feels kind of removed from the regular atmosphere of the building, with so many new characters who aren’t tenants there. It’s not bad, but the Arconia is the home of the show, it’s right there in the title. I know they have to expand a bit, though, since it can’t be the same handful of suspects each season.

speaking of which, I’m eager to see Detective Williams again, whenever she finally shows up! I definitely remember her in the trailer.

also Theo, obviously. Somebody said he’s mentioned in a few reviews, but I guess I haven’t found the right ones yet, cause I haven’t read anything about him showing up this season. I hope he does, though! I miss my snarky deaf boy!

[wishitweresummer]

Alright! Sitting Pretty is coming together!!! I’m aiming for this series to start being released around the end of this year/the start of next!!! So there will be a consistent flow of at least one fic a week on one of my blogs, as well as the normal additions to the regular Tickle AU, and anything else I get inspired to do!!! Soon, I’ll get to share the art my cover artist has been working so hard on and you’ll get to see the boys! <3

About Sitting Pretty~~

The Dream Team are dating, and also they are animal hybrids.

Dream is a puppy. Sapnap is a panda. George is a cat.

…and they are a little bit obsessed with tickling <3

(As usual, the chapters will be split into SFW and NSFW. But, everything posted on this account will be safe so don’t worry!! Remember to direct any spicier replies to the other blog!)

I am still building the world for this AU!!! Feel free to ask any questions or make any requests for things you want to see!

Here’s some fun facts about the AU~~

-When we find them in the story, they are around their 3 year anniversary of dating in secret. They became an official throuple December 16th of 2020.

-Sapnap has an extra finger and an extra toe on each hand and foot, like regular pandas.

-They each have collars that they’ve had custom made for each other. Even Sapnap!

-Not everyone in this world is a hybrid! About 35% of people born are born part animal.

-While George and Sapnap were very open with what kind of hybrids they were, Dream kept it secret along with his face. The community still guessed he was a dog-hybrid based on his personality and other little clues so it wasn’t that much of a surprise when fluffy yellow puppy ears flopped out when the mask was pulled off.

Here’s some little snippets to get you excited~~

-lee!Dream, the poor puppy-

-lee!Sapnap, the ticklish panda-

-lee!George, pretty kitty-

~•~

Pleaseee let me know what you think of the AU so far! Ask me anything, talk about stuff you want to see, anything anything!!!

[adrinoir]

Headcanon: Adrien Agreste is Trans? (Part 5)

Part 5 let’s gooooo!

Wow, so, as I’m going through my own trans journey, I was inspired by some to write another part of this headcanon. I was somehow able to connect Adrien’s character to parts of my own journey. It’s pretty cool!

Here are the other parts of this headcanon if you’d like to read those: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Usual disclaimer: this is just for fun! Obviously cis boys can have these same qualities and traits. Don’t take it too seriously. These are all just things I’ve noticed. Also please keep in mind I haven't watched anything beyond Migration as I’m writing this (I’m using the material I have so far).

CW: mentions of transphobia and abuse

The struggle to envision his future

Trans people can struggle to envision their life in the future due to not having older trans people to look up to. Or they feel so depressed from gender dysphoria or judgement for being trans that it makes it hard for them to see what their future will be like.

We see in Wishmaker, Adrien doesn’t have much of an idea as to what he wants for his future. He told Luka and Marinette that his head feels empty. And, additionally, he said to Ladybug he never had any childhood dreams.

When he’s hit by Wishmaker, he turns into who he is now. I mentioned in part 2 of this headcanon that there’s trauma behind that, and Adrien is trying to be this perfect young man for his parents. However, I want to look at it from a different perspective-

Consider, he turns into himself now - not even an older version of himself with no differences whatsoever, meaning he possibly might not see anything beyond the person he is now. Or (TW here) he didn’t see (or could barely see) a future for himself as a kid because he was so depressed and dysphoric. It’s not uncommon for trans kids to feel like they won’t live to transition. Especially with Adrien, if he is trans, I can only imagine how terrifying it would be for him trying to come out to his parents.

Or, if he was at first confused by his dysphoria and trying to figure out his identity as a child, that confusion could’ve clouded his vision for his future. He couldn’t completely understand who he is and why he was feeling the way that he was.

Not fully understanding yourself and who you are - even within your gender identity - can cloud how you see yourself now and in your future.

The “I just want to be a son!” line

The line Adrien said in Risk: “I just want to be a son!” stands out to me a lot.

I know he mainly meant it in a way of saying that he wants to be treated like a regular kid by his own father, not like a model. But, - listen, I’ll take whatever crumbs I can get - there’s a strong emphasis on this line and making sure he specifies “son.”

Having this strong desire to no longer model (which is in fact one of my other signs I listed in part 4 of my headcanon) and saying he wants to be a son just gives me vibes that he’s so dehumanized by his own father. His father barely treats him like he’s his kid and uses him as marketing for his designs. And referring to another part of this headcanon (part 1), him and his father have this unexplainable disconnect, even though Adrien is such a good son. I had mentioned maybe it’s because Adrien is trans and his father barely accepts this.

So, if it is true that this disconnect is caused (or at least partially caused) by Adrien being trans, he wants to make it clear he’s at least his son, not his daughter.

The dehumanization

Speaking of that unexplainable disconnect and dehumanization I had just mentioned, I want to get into more detail about that.

Gabriel continues to care so little about his own son, and at this point in the series, we see he’s barely even treated like a human anymore. Gabriel’s behavior has worsened. Gabriel had the audacity to free Adrien of his modeling career by creating a fake AI version of him.

That is absolutely dehumanizing. Like, is it good that Adrien is no longer a model? Yes. But is it good that there’s a duplicate of him saying things and making expressions that aren’t real? Things he never said and did himself?

It’s incredibly slimy behavior to see your son as a marketing tool and way to reach your own stingy goals. And that begs the question: why does Gabriel see his son as just these things? How could a father treat his son with such little love and apathy?

This reminds me a lot of transphobic people because they don’t think of trans people as real people. They say and treat them as if they aren’t humans. They’re willing to threaten them, spit on them, possibly unalive them, insult the daylights out of them, etc as if they don’t have human emotions and lives. And, these transphobes are typically hateful, evil people, just like Mr. Gabriel Agreste.

One could argue that Gabriel has just gone absolutely insane and he showed some compassion for Adrien in earlier parts of the series. But, I don’t feel this is true. Referring to Wishmaker (again lol), it’s shown his parents have had expectations of him his whole life. Their love for him was conditional starting from his early childhood, and we’re not given reason as to why this is - it’s just been suspected to be abuse.

And, if we knock out my first section about Adrien not realizing his future, maybe he did know since childhood that he’s trans. And perhaps he defied his parents (like he did when he ran away to the school) and started taking steps to transition (as many steps as he could before needing his parents to weigh in and be somewhat accepting). That’s why Gabriel neglects Adrien and dehumanizes him, and him just going crazy showed more of his true colors - colors that have existed within him all along.

The relationship & physical affection discomfort

In Adrien’s first relationship, he was so uncomfortable with Kagami despite how long they were friends prior to. Understandably, this was his first relationship, Kagami made a lot of assumptions about him as a person, and came on really strong. But, despite liking her, he was still so uncomfortable and never really got over that.

You’d think he would’ve been okay with kissing her and more physical touch since he seemingly had a bit of a crush on her for quite some time. But he hardly was. And he showed a bit of disappointment when she made wrong assumptions about who he really is.

If Adrien has gender dysphoria, he’s not going to feel very comfortable with physical affection, especially with someone who has the wrong idea of him as a person; someone who doesn’t know he’s trans (at least not yet). Notice how he also backs away at times when Ladybug actually tries to be physically affectionate with him (particularly the Fake Ladybug in Puppeteer 2).

Adrien only seems okay with physical affection if he initiates it. If someone else tries to initiate that first move when he’s not completely comfortable with them, he gets uncomfortable. It has to be by his terms. This could be him having to gain that bit of trust since he’s used to that dismissive attachment style from his father who neglects him - it reflects itself in romantic relationships. But it could also be bodily gender dysphoria and the fact that no one would know he’s trans (aside from his own family).

[the-archangel]

Riders on the Storm

Hello again Tumblr, my inspiration has been stalling so sorry if it's been a while since I posted. What follows is very NSFW, I didn't know it was going that way until it did, but I'm not sorry!

V is not having a great night’s sleep – he rarely did to be fair, but tonight is particularly bad. He fell asleep just fine, snuggled up against Kerry’s back with the regular movements of his chest against V’s hand lulling him into slumber, but the familiar feeling of pre-dawn unnameable dread causes him to pull away from his partner, suddenly feeling too hot and claustrophobic, and he lays on his back, covers pushed away, staring into the dark.

He searches his mind to try to identify which of his many ‘challenges’ is keeping him from sleep this time, it’s a long list to work through. His medication is at least partly to blame, Vik is still finessing the dosage but in the meantime night-sweats and weird, lucid dreams are not unusual. Pressures of work can be factored in too, he loves the Afterlife and will be eternally grateful to Rogue for trusting him with it, but it’s a lot, he leaves the bar side completely to Clair, but every busted job or lost merc weighs heavy on him, he needs to find a way to deal with it better, maybe take Kerry up on his offer to introduce him to Khian?

There are some things that are an easy fix, he resolves to call Mama Welles in the morning, it’s been a while and she’ll be starting to worry, he also decides to reply to the not entirely friendly email he received from Ted Eurodyne a week or so ago. He’d debated back and forth about whether to show it to Kerry, but his and Ted’s already fragile relationship would not be improved by him seeing it, so V decides to find a friendly, but firmly non-negotiable way to tell him that he wouldn’t be ‘fucking off and leaving his dad alone.’ As the first hints of a sunrise hover on the horizon, V ponders that Ted is going to be really pissed off when he finds out that Kerry has sold the villa and that they are moving into a condo they’ve bought together in the heart of the City.

Moving house is supposed to be stressful so V has heard, but it’s about the only thing that he’s not worrying about on some level. Up until pretty recently, everything he owned would’ve fitted into the boot of his car and apart from a couple of keepsakes he’s not one for coveting stuff, Kerry can deal with all that, in fact Kerry thrives under pressure, so he’ll be in his element.

Ah Kerry, V glances over smiling at the dishevelled white hair and gentle snoring coming from the unlooked-for saviour that changed his life. V had engaged in dalliances with both men and women but could never see himself in a relationship with either, liking his own space and company too much to give it up for anybody he’d met – until Kerry. In less than three months they’d gone from never having met to living together and sharing everything. V wonders sometimes if his defences had been lowered due to no longer ever having his own space anyway, like he said to Misty that one time, it was a rare thing to be alone with his thoughts in those days but he and Kerry had just clicked, resonated as Kerry inevitably put it, if V believed in such things as soul-mates then Kerry was definitely his.

The sun is beginning to peek in at the window, V decides that he’s done with trying to sleep and silently slips out of bed, pulling on some shorts, shoes and a vest top and making his way downstairs and out for a stretch and a run in the relatively fresh, North-Oak air.

-

Kerry feels the coolness on his back as V pulls away, he is used to V’s broken sleep patterns and usually manages to drift back off pretty quickly, but the silence and dark are conspiring to keep him awake, finally a sigh comes from behind, proof of life so Kerry drifts back to sleep.

He’s very aware of all the things that buzz around V’s mind keeping him from sleep, they talk about it often and Kerry does his best to offer comfort and help. He really wishes that V had refused to take on the Afterlife, the jump from merc to fixer is a huge one, and much as V was the best at what he did, paperwork and people skills were not particularly assets for a mercenary, though essential for a fixer. He tries so hard, wanting to look out for his mercs and do the best for his clients, but Kerry can see how worn out he is by it all sometimes and wishes he would talk to somebody about it.

Kerry also knows about the situation with Ted, Kim had called him a couple of days ago telling stories of Ted’s rants and aggressive stance towards V. When they’d all met last year, Kerry had been worried by how quiet Ted had been, not his usual forthright self. He’d spent a lot of time watching V, how he interacted with Kerry or with Kim, how he acted with Kerry’s fans or with his staff, what he did when he was by himself – clearly he was on some sort of self-imposed reconnaissance mission and the info he’d collected had led him onto his current path. Kerry would have to have a word tomorrow, he and V were going to be together whether Ted liked it or not, but for everybody’s good it would be better if they could get along.

A sleepy hum escapes from Kerry’s lips as he hears V leave, he should probably get up himself, there’s the last of the packing to do, moving day is tomorrow so it’s no wonder V is restless. He’s letting Kerry deal with most of it, but contracts are V’s new specialty and he’s all over the paperwork – it’s making everything take twice as long of course, but it’s worth it, Kerry is proud as hell at the things V can do.

On his way to the bathroom, he catches sight of V just as the gates are opening for him, still looking hot as fuck despite the baggy grey shorts and tatty running shoes, Kerry spends a moment leaning on the window watching as he disappears into the surrounding hills, he’ll be back in a couple of hours tired, sweaty and ravenous, Kerry can hardly wait, but in the meantime he’ll have a shower, make some coffee and get ready to go out.

-

V looks at his holo as he rounds the last bend of the road before reaching the villa, 17 Km today, not his best but not bad. The rain had started about 4 Km ago, it had been a welcome break from the too humid summer air, but enough is enough, squelching sneakers are never a good look so he’s heading back in for a cool drink and a warm shower. V stretches his calf muscles as he waits for the gates to open, curling up first his left leg, then the right and then takes his shirt off to wipe his face and so fails to notice the figure sat on the edge of a lounger, dripping in what has become a torrential downpour, until he is almost on top of him.

“Kerry, shit, what’s going on?”

“I…dunno.” admits the older man, “I was going out, then the rain started. Kinda thought it’d be nova to let it, y’know just wash over me for a while, splash on my face and stuff, then just sorta got to thinkin’ about the rhythm of it and…”

“Here we are?”

“Yeah,” chuckles Kerry, “here we are.”

“C’mon inside, you’re soaked through Ker,” V says gently, pulling Kerry up by the hand, but the Rockerboy has other ideas and wraps his arms around the fixer’s neck.

“Ever done it in the rain?” he breathes into V’s ear. Kerry’s rich growl sends V’s knees to jelly at the best of times, him just asking for a cup of coffee can be enough to cause the rest of the day to be spent in bed, but this close, with his breath on V’s cheek, suggesting something so exquisitely desirable, V loses the power of speech and manages only,

“Nu-uh…”

Despite the rain, which has now settled into a steady, heavy-dropped downpour, it’s still warm enough for V not to be concerned that he’s already down to just his shorts, having toed his shoes off previously. Kerry is concerned only that his input still has too many clothes on and slides his hands down his shoulders and rain-slicked chest before finally hooking his thumbs into the waistband of V’s old, frayed pants and letting them fall to the floor, his already half-hard cock to slipping into his hand as they kiss allowing Kerry to finish the job.  

The rocker’s silk shirt, open to the waist, is plastered to his chest the outline of his golden implants clearly visible, V traces them now with his fingertips gasping into the other man’s kiss with every stroke of his eager cock. The real target for V’s fingers is down below, so the delicate material of the peach-coloured shirt is torn open to allow access to the buttons of Kerry’s soaking jeans which V unfastens easily with one, well-practised hand, the other being occupied at the back of Kerry’s head holding him fast into a deep kiss.

Wet denim, especially tight wet denim it turns out, tends to stick stubbornly to skin. No amount of cajoling from V gets Kerry’s waistband past his hips, so lifting the rocker easily in his arms he carries him laughing throatily over to the closest outdoor couch laying him down on the soaking wet vinyl and pulling his pants down by the ankles, finally working them free and crawling up the other man’s slick body, catching the downpour on his back.

Both grinning into a very wet kiss, hands run over silk and skin, V keeps himself slightly raised as his deceptively heavy body would crush the other man otherwise, but where they are connected, chest, hips, groin and thighs, fills them with heat and want. Burying his head in Kerry’s neck and worrying at the tender skin there, V grinds his hips sliding their cocks over each other and making the area even slicker with mingled pre-cum and rain. Kerry groans gently with every exhalation, it’s exquisite but he needs more,

“I want you to fuck me,” he pants into his mainline’s ear, “rail me so hard I can’t sit still for a week.”

V doesn’t need telling twice, bounding off the bench he easily flips the rocker over dragging him to the end of the seating and positioning him on all fours, tantalisingly wiggling his perfect ass like as if he needs to persuade V to come over and nail him. V swipes his hand over his eyes to wipe away the rain dripping from his eyelashes and brows and enjoy the view for a moment, he runs his hands over the tight orbs of his ass cheeks, runs his thumbs down his inner thigh and back up, parting them to lean in and flick his tongue around and into his fluttering hole delving in as deep as he can before licking a stripe up the bones of his spine and positioning the tip of his twitching cock at the entrance, “You ready?” he asks huskily, already sliding himself into the deliciously tight hole, “you sure you want it hard?”

Feeling a gulp under the hand which has found its way to Kerry’s throat, V sinks fully in and waits for a response, “Don’t make me ask again,” Kerry growls, “fucking mess me up.”

Shit, who gets an offer like that every day? Keeping one hand on his lover’s throat, the other rakes its fingernails down the wet, golden skin of Kerry’s back raising red, angry welts in its wake before settling with a bruising grip on his slender hip holding him fast against the already punishing rhythm.

The Rockerboy’s gasps fill the garden and could be easily heard from the road, in fact they could be easily seen through the gates should anyone pass by, but a trip up here by foot was rarely made, especially in a rainstorm so they’re relatively safe. V grunts with every thrust, his fingers tightening on Kerry’s throat and hips, the noises coming from beneath him – gasps and groans, flesh on flesh – are turning him on so bad but not as much as the sight before him, Kerry Eurodyne on all fours, eyes closed, glistening with sweat and rain, water dripping from the tips of his hair and mingling with the drool sliding unhindered from his chin. Shit this man is hot.

“You…OK…Ker?” V manages without slowing.

“Uh…yeah. But…wanna…see you.”

A smirking V slides his hand away from Kerry’s throat and down to his hips and after a couple more thrusts that bring him dangerously close to the edge, he slides out gently and flips the other man deftly onto his back. A brief gap in the rainclouds allows V to tenderly wipe the rain from Kerry’s face, they look into each other’s eyes, the usual fondness there overlaid with want and need. Eyes and hands soon wander, Kerry’s gaze falls to V’s hard-on, subconsciously his tongue darts out wetting his bottom lip as his finger traces rain rivulets down V’s stomach. He’s always loved dick, the velvety feel, the smell, the taste, but V’s is next level, not long but thick and he’s drawn towards it as it bobs there between his man’s thighs. Both men groan as the tip disappears inside Kerry’s mouth, he sucks at it gently, tenderly, eagerly swirling his tongue over the tip to taste the pre-cum waiting there and sinking down lower until his nose is tickled by the ex-mercs pubic hair.

Enjoyable as this is, V isn’t done with Kerry’s ass just yet and the sight of Kerry’s eyelashes fluttering up at him as his cock fills his throat is in serious danger of finishing him off. He puts a hand on his shoulder, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away eventually choosing the latter, kissing away the string of cum mingled spit.

Panting, V breathes into Kerry’s ear, “I’m gonna fill your hole so full of my cum, then I’m gonna watch you jerk off while it runs down your ass.” Kerry whines, nodding eagerly. V awoke in him a kink for being dominated that he never knew existed until they met, so like the good boy he is he pulls up his knees biting down on his lip to stop the whimpers as V lets a trail of spit coat his ass and rubs it in with his thumb before pushing his twitching cock mercilessly inside. Lightning illuminates the obliviously rutting pair making hairs rise on already over-stimulated skin, it’s closely followed by a thunderclap which covers V’s curses and groans as he finally is able to pump his load into Kerry’s ass. True to his word, V pulls carefully out watching his cum ooze from the Rockerboy’s asshole while Kerry finishes himself off with a scant few swift strokes, the ropes of cum on his stomach and chest being almost immediately washed away by the returning rain, much to V’s disappointment.

Another burst of lightning creates a tableau, V standing between his lover’s thighs resting his forehead on his chest, Kerry with his hands around V’s neck, putting his lips to the top of his head.  This more than anything is the true snapshot of their relationship.

“C’mon Ker, storm’s nearly overhead, don’t wanna see your hot butt fried.” V says throatily, softly kissing the slick skin of Kerry’s chest.

Kerry hums and raises himself up onto an elbow allowing V to haul him up by the other hand, leaving their soaking clothes behind they run giggling back to the warm, dry villa and straight into the shower.

 Later, snuggled in matching towelling robes V quietly goes about his business listening to Kerry put together the tune that had begun to come to him on the step in the rain earlier on. To V’s untrained ear it certainly sounded like a hit, the rhythm evoking the rain from the recently departed storm, but it’s something quite different he will be thinking of when it’s on the radio in his car or office. The thought makes him grin as he gets ready for work.

[fourseasonsfigs]

Little Farmer Jun

If I went back in time and told myself 5 years ago that one day I'd be writing a blog post about a collectible figure (that not only did I own but had in fact avidly collected) of a mainland Chinese actor dressed as a high-fashion sexy exterminator in a enormous fluffy yellow hat, I would have been very concerned. I would have 1) thought future Lelanthe had lost her ever-loving mind, 2) wondered how exactly was it that someone who had lost every single marble could even have dreamed up a chain of events leading up to that particular scenario?

Truth is stranger than fiction, my figthusiast friends.

The inspiration for this fig, and many others, all of which you will be seeing in the future, is Gong Jun's frankly rather incredible November 2022 Cosmopolitan Magazine photo shoot:

Yes, I own this mag, and I regret nothing. NOTHING, I SAY!

In order to fully appreciate this mag, I think you need a behind-the-scenes video. Here you go, my friends who have gone down this very unique life path with me...

The inspiration for this particular fig is of course this:

What in the name of all that is holy was someone thinking when they put this outfit together, I just don't know. This mag shoot was the one that that got me to the point that I don't even question this stuff anymore. I mean, look at him. The outfit is ridiculous but his face is stunning as always, his legs look a million miles long, his arms look strong, and his shoulders are broad enough to carry this look off.

The fig maker called this fig a farmer, but let's be real - it's an exterminator. Yes, I suppose farmers can have spray packs too, for exterminating pests! May I just say that I get my house sprayed on the regular for pest control, and never ONCE has any exterminator looked even vaguely like this. Disappointing. Tragic, really.

Here he arrived on my doorstep, swaddled up protectively in his polystyrene case, with his little spray wand accompanying him.

My heart does sink a little bit each time I see an accessory with a fig. The question of will-it-won't-it fit is always a pertinent one when you're as clumsy as I am. You can see his little curled right hand there that is meant to hold the handle like in the picture.

Luckily, the handle fit well into his hand - I kind of had to push it a bit harder than I'd like to get it to stay, but once it was there it was (relatively) secure.

This little man wasn't standing on his own for anything. You'll see why a little more clearly as we rotate around the figure, but basically he's unbalanced because of all his equipment on his back, along with this gigantic hat.

Speaking of the hat, it's pretty amazing. Not only do we have this great knit texture on the hat itself, we have flocking on the ear muffs! Amazing.

All my figs get a soapy water bath to clean them when they arrive (I've seen some factory production pictures!). Unfortunately, I was going on autopilot with this last shipment of figs, and I accidentally dunked this little guy in the soapy bath. I immediately yelped and grabbed him right back out. I hated to soak him even more by rinsing him off, but at that point there was nothing to be done, other than cursing my own name. I was worried I had damaged the flocking, but he seems to have dried up just fine!

No harm done. There's a few different figs with flocking in production right now, so just as well I learned from this one!

There is a TON of detail on this fig. Kind of amazing looking at it - there is a lot going on. Credit to Junjun again that he was wearing this outfit in the pics vs. it wearing him. The factory work is remarkably clean too, nice and sharp paint lines.

You can see there that he is holding the little spray handle just fine. I was not a fan of this outfit in the magazine, but I kind of love this fig.

He's so cute. When visitors come over and look at my fig displays, I can promise you this is one they will definitely ask about!

So fancy, Junjun, with your Tiffany jewelry!

This is a good shot of his hand holding the sprayer. Actually a great shot of both of his hands.

It's really interesting to me that there's a little hole here in his spray backpack. I wonder if there was originally plans to put the spray tube in? There's the full tubing in the magazine pic, and you can see it in the video, so I wonder.

Look at all that detail in the knit hat. Incredible!

Unfortunately, this entire series came without box art or box cards, so that's it for pics. There's more in this series coming, so stick around if you'd like to see more!

Material: Resin and some kind of flocking, Calico Critters-style

Fig Count: 418

Scene Count: 29

Rating: No bugs here, Ma'am

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

[innytoes]

3 sentence prompt! Bullriding au reggie ship of your choice! (Saw that vid you RBed and couldn’t resist)

(Listen this video is inspired and we all deserve to see Reggie doing it. Special thanks to @anotherfantom who created this AU in their tags and then let me spitball about it for a few hours.)

Reggie's move to the Big City hadn't really been planned. The plan had been to stay in town and help Meemaw and Pops on the farm and save up for college. But well, after he and the Johnson boy were caught making out in the Johnson's hayloft, it had been strongly suggested to Meemaw that maybe Reggie get out of town.

(He'd heard later that Johnny Johnson had sworn up and down it had been a one-time, drunken mistake. He'd enrolled in the army the next day, disappearing almost as fast as Reggie had. He wasn't sure what stung more: the denial of all the sweet words whispered in the dead of night, or the fact that Johnny was throwing his life away in the exact way he'd admitted to Reggie he'd been afraid of. And for what?)

He'd been so lonely those first weeks. Getting a low-paying job (or several) hadn't been particularly hard. He made enough to rent out some nice old lady's attic. She thought his 'yes ma'ams' and country accent were charming. And every week, after her Sunday dinner with her family, Reggie would come home from his late shift at the gas station to find a bunch of leftovers in the fridge with his name on it.

He actually found the place through his second job as a delivery driver. When he drove onto the street with all the rainbow flags, it felt like something of a dream. He was already making plans to go back as soon as he had a night off, but then he stepped in the door.

It was like something out of Reggie's dreams: a country themed gay bar. Wood floors, wood paneling, a big wooden bar with leather-covered stools. And in the middle of the room, opposite of a beautiful dance floor, was a giant mechanical bull.

With an incredibly attractive man, well, riding it. Slowly, sensually, rocking his hips in time with the movements of the bull and the music. And all Reggie could do was stand and gape, clutching the package in his hands.

"Can I help you?" A voice from behind the bar called. "We don't actually open until six..."

"Oh!" Reggie flinched. "Um, package for a Caleb Covington?" He turned to the bartender, who was also unfairly handsome. He had kind eyes and he looked very... firm under that denim shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and oh god, he was glad the bar didn't have many lights on, so maybe his blush wouldn't be so obvious.

The handsome bartender smiled and nodded over to the bull. "That's that show-off over there. Caleb! Package for you!" The man dismounted the bull in a fluent and mind-searingly hot move, and sauntered over. He looked Reggie up and down, and Reggie really wished the delivery uniform wasn't a pair of dorky shorts and a polo.

"I'll sign for that," Caleb said, and was Reggie just imagining it, or did it sound like he didn't mean the package?

So of course, after that, the second he had a night off, he went back. And again. And again, until he was recognised as a regular by all the other regulars. And of course, by Caleb and Ray.

His normal Wednesday night off was a pretty chill time at the bar. Which suited Reggie just fine, because when things were slow, Caleb wouldn't just do his scheduled show, he'd sometimes get on the bull just to show off.

And of course Reggie had to master the bull as well. He was pretty good at the fast settings they had, where the goal was to stay on as long as possible. He was actually number four on the board now, and he'd won a sparkly cowboy hat for making it into the top ten. But the slow setting... well, he was getting there. And it had lead to a lot of free drinks.

Except there were really only two people he really hoped would notice him. And they did. There were a lot of lingering looks and even some touches. Ray always let him in early, let him practice on the bull without paying, watched him with intense eyes from behind the bar. Caleb gave him all kinds of pointers, showing him how to move his body. That time Caleb joined him on the bull, Reggie nearly creamed his pants, it was so hot.

But neither of them made a move, and Reggie wasn't about to go wreck their marriage or anything. Flirting was one thing, but actually trying to kiss one of them? Ask them out? What if they got offended and said no? This place was the closest thing he had to home, to a community. He couldn't mess that up.

He was sulking his way through his third free coca-cola of the night (Ray was always very kind about telling people Reggie didn't drink, refusing to serve him anything he wasn't comfortable with. Instead of cocktails, he got a lot of free cokes, or sometimes even some bar nachos), watching Caleb on the mechanical bull, when another regular dropped a bombshell.

"What do you mean, wreck their marriage?" Fuego asked him. "Ray and Caleb aren't married. They dated like ten years ago, decided they'd be better off as friends, and that was that."

"But they-"

"Sound exactly like an old married couple?" Dante, Fuego's husband finished for him. Reggie nodded. Even when they bickered, there was an undercurrent of affection that reminded Reggie of his Meemaw and Pops. "Yeah, they actually sound more like a couple now than they did when they were actually dating."

"Sooo," Reggie said slowly. "You think I have a shot?"

"Kid, the only reason either of them haven't ravished you behind the bar is because you always leave before closing," Dante said, laughing when Fuego smacked his shoulder.

Oh. He did usually leave around midnight because he had an early shift the next day.

Maybe tomorrow he could call in sick.

He knocked back the last of his coke like it was a shot, squared his shoulder, and sauntered back up to the bull, waiting for it to turn the right way to hop on, wrapping his legs over Caleb's to keep hold. The man looked surprised, yeah, but his hands immediately settled on Reggie's hips, leaning forward to keep his balance.

"Hi," Reggie said, cheekily stealing Caleb's cowboy hat and putting it on. The answering smirk was enough to nearly make him fall off the bull.

"Hello," Caleb said, tugging him closer.

Oh, he was definitely staying until after closing tonight.

[co-mixed]

Tropes and Visions

Taking a long look at the nature of fictional villains

Just the other day I asked myself why did I suddenly fall for the vision Toyo Harada planted in the minds of his followers at the beginning of Imperium. It seemed so perfect: peace and prosperity. Pretty much the same world we envision when we hear the word “future”. Neo-futurism, if you may. A world without borders and with mutual respect. It seems so easy and so achievable, at the same time it’s the one thing we repeatedly fail to achieve.

What is evil?

When we were kids, things in fiction were simple. A hero never killed, a villain - did. But any villain had to be obviously almost grotesquely evil. Whether they were guided by their own selfish goals or enjoyed chaos for the sake of chaos. Then we graduated to multi-layered villains. Still, the most favorite ones were driven insane. Sometimes with merely a spark of humanity left deep inside. There’s always a point to either make a villain absolutely inexcusable or keep them redeemable preferably by death. Your Docs. Ocks and Anakins were all allowed to keep their dignity if they exited the story in a body bag.

But today’s villains have to be much more. Otherwise, they’re deemed unbelievably simple (even despite the fact that we see absolute, unforgivable evil done on a regular basis). We want to dig deeper, to be able to understand what drives them. Maybe that’s what second-wave villains have taught us. But maybe it’s something else. 

Does it take a villain 

The best villains in movies or comics have one thing in common — their good intentions. We often find ourselves siding with them, at least for a short while before they go off on a killing spree. And that’s something they inevitably do. 

On the other side, before they do, they get to show you how much better the world could be if they’re just allowed to execute their vision (along with some people but who’s counting). The point is, they are ready to get their hands dirty to achieve their goal. 

Let’s take Magneto as the best possible example. His goal was not peace between the mutants and the humans. He wanted to ensure the survival of his kind. He himself survived the holocaust and was prepared to do anything to save fellow mutants from the same fate. Yes, he went back and forth (a lot), he’s been called a terrorist and he didn’t shy away from killing. He never abandoned his views yet only with his help mutants finally got their utopia on Krakoa. And I might not be the biggest fan of this arc, but that doesn’t make it any less prophetic. Xavier’s peaceful methods were never enough. Magneto made their “last attempt” a success. 

But that’s just one example, and we’re not here to gush about Magneto. This whole thing was inspired by Harada and it’s his path that I want to review. 

Toyo Harada is a more complex example of the same trope. A child of war, a powerful individual, a visionary (all of them are), and a hero to his kind. 

His actions may be more brutal than Magneto’s but his goal is closer to home. It’s Xavier's dream with Magneto’s approach. It’s the whole world becoming an ideal and non-secluded version of Krakoa. And maybe the most devastating part is that it’s achievable with or without psiots. To drive the point further, Harada makes a special point of condemning war profiteering. In fact, if you read Imperium, you’re likely to start wondering who and where is making money on wars. 

Toyo Harada is trying to help the most disenfranchised and neglected. He isn’t great at it. But he still gets closer to that goal than anyone with peaceful measures.

That may be because Harada is prepared to remove anyone who stands in his way. Sometimes it’s a government, sometimes it’s terrorists, sometimes it’s regular people. To him, there is no difference and that makes his way the wrong way.

Why can’t they just be nice 

We call the ones who kill antiheroes. Your Punishers, Wolverines, (possibly) Bloodshots, they get the job done with a body count longer than your phone number. If there is a line and it’s not at killing, then how come antiheroes manage to longe behind it while visionaries inevitably end up crossing it? They rush towards their goal with such ferocity, they step on seemingly irrelevant people that they’re hoping to help. 

Antiheroes always have a strong moral code, it’s their shield against crossing the line that even we, readers, don’t always see. Even anti they’re still heroes. If the code isn’t enough, there’s always a failsafe that they’re aware of. Something or someone that can end them. Punisher is just a man, Toyo Harada is just short of omnipotent. 

This is a bold statement but if you’re a human or humanoid, tropes strongly suggest that you aren’t capable of handling the weight of enormous power. There is something religious about it that circles back to idolizing another human being. Gods can be flawed but have to be adored. Powerful humans can’t.

This isn’t a writers’ collusion. This is just a trope that gives your villain depth. It makes you feel compassion and it makes you as a reader, mentally define that proverbial no-crossing line. 

Does peace mean no change 

Here’s the billion-dollar question. Are we supposed to believe that the noblest goals are always a lie? Because this is what’s being repeated in the form of these villains. Krakoa is deeply flawed, Harada’s paradise is thousands of starving people, Killmonger just wants chaos, Namor drowns a nation. The list could go on and somehow it always comes back to this one statement - a most beautiful promise has to be a lie. We are rotating around the same idea that Utopia is always a trick. There is a healthy bit of logic behind this too, and a thick tome of world history to support this bit. There are always going to be rebels and they will always be punished. Are we supposed to protect the status quo? Not really, just look around – it’s no good. But if we challenge it, we have to vow to be squeaky clean and keep in mind our own limits.

All that is impossible for a villain. Even with the best intentions. You might get emotionally involved yet you will have to realize that the status quo is still better than an unpredictable power-hungry madman. Note that “powerful” doesn’t mean “satisfied”. 

They all end up power-hungry. Why? Again, history and experience. Great power is required for great achievement. And power corrupts. 

Oh, great power, you say…

You guessed it. A powerful person becomes a villain when they stop feeling responsible for their actions. When there’s no one to hold them accountable. This means that all the aforementioned villains had one problem in common — no one to challenge them. That’s when their moral compass went to hell. Yes, all these stories are cautionary tales warning us to not let one person grab and grab and grab power. It does take a villain to build a paradise but it does take a hero to step down. In his fantasy Toyo Harada did just that, he built a paradise and left it as a legacy. 

It was easy to fall for this vision. The world we live in is so broken, many of us would deal with the devil to fix it.

The vision was a lie, everyone saw what they yearned to see. And Harada himself didn’t really care about the people. He was a visionary, he cared about his vision. 

[gothicwonderlust]

Ok this is my 1st time writing and posting fanfic so bear with me please. I will post this to A03 soon. My name there is Sablenight13 if you want to read it there.

You are a Christian who has been struggling with their faith and is scared of the what truths might be out there. One night you find yourself in a concerningly realistic dream. Luckily a Satanic anti-pope wants to help abate some of your fears, and has a gift to offer you. Will you fall into temptation and except his gift?

I had fun writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it.

Forbidden Fruit

BY Sablenight13  

   You’re dreaming, you know you are. Conscious of this fact you look around your surroundings. The realization that you stand in a church settles into you. This is not a regular church, however. It appears to have taken inspiration from the Catholic church. The dark and ominous spirit of this place in your dreams leads you to believe that this is not in fact a Catholic church. A few lit candles and some moonlit stained-glass windows are the main light source. The full moon outside provides enough illumination so that each piece of art can be clearly seen. The soft light quickly fades away, dying in the shadows that shrouded the room in darkness. Your eyes are drawn to the ornate glass as you begin to notice the details. 

Men in meal masks, each with a pair of horns and no mouth stared down at you. While some look down others are turned away facing in opposite directions, but all have different poses or symbols in their own windows. Before you can fully realize all the different details a shuffling to your side catches your attention. Suddenly several more candles blaze to life behind a man that you hadn't noticed before. Dressed in priestly robes and with a mitre on his head, he struck an imposing present, especially his eyes. One glowed white, the other you couldn’t see in the dark. While he was dressed in the style of a holy man, you were pretty sure that holy men didn’t make it a habit to paint their face with skull paint, or dress in symbols that kind of looked like an upside down cross. The smell of smoke and incense seemed to flow from him, filling the room with a pleasant scent. “Ah hello, hello there little one, how do you do? He spoke in a soft tone. Being a little bit flustered you find that words do not willingly come. A beat or two passes by before he hums and shifts his weight a little. This small action snaps your brain into action and your body shifts into a more defensive stance. 

His eyes catch the shift in body language. “Oh, do not be afraid little lamb I am not here to harm you no; no in fact I am here to offer you something yes. Curiosity and caution flow through your veins. You make no sound, eyes trained on him as he slowly takes two steps towards you. He stops when he sees caution winning the battle and you prepare to run. He makes a small noise in the back of throat and holds up both hands to show that he means no harm. You noticed that he held a small object in one hand, but you imminently turned your attention back to him. You do not trust this strange man in a dark church. “Do not fear. I only want to offer a gift Sorella. I am here because my dark lord, Lucifer, has heard your cry in the night, and he has an offering for you” The dark priest chuckled as he watched the color drain from your face. “What?” The word came out in a whisper strangled by confusion. Suddenly the man seemed to come to himself. “Forgive me sister, I have not introduced myself. I am Papa Emeritus the Third. I am the Papa of this church.” Papa slightly bowed to you after his name was revealed. 

He lifted his head expectantly awaiting an introduction of your own. You stutter and stumble over your words not wanting to tell him your name. “It’s ok my principessa, you do not need to tell Papa your name if you do not want.” Your breath hitched at the way he called princess in another language. Something about not needing to give your name calmed you just a little. “W-h-hat do y-you mean Lucifer? I-I didn’t call on him...no way.” Hating the slight tremble in your voice you pushed on, determined to hide your fear. ‘What do you want?” He answered you in a confident tone. “What He wants is to bring you into the light by knowledge and wisdom. And through knowledge and wisdom grant you power and freedom.” As he spoke, he took a few steps closer and held out a gloved hand. Gold claws glinted in the candlelight against black leather as he held out a piece of fruit. Papa watched as confusion crossed your face. “Not what you were expecting, hmm? It is what the Bible has called the fruit of knowledge about good and evil. But consider it more as permission to pursue any and all forms of knowledge, and in that finding freedom.” Tired of feeling fearful, anger boiled up in your body. “Do you think I'm stupid? You want me to commit the sin of Eve? Have I not suffered enough because of her?! Because of her sin God made childbirth painful! Now every month I get a lovely reminder of why I shouldn’t trust you! Are you the devil or some kind of demon? At this outburst Papa lowered his hand. “And what sin did Eve commit that was so evil all must suffer hmm? He asked in a cool tone. What act so horrible that you are made to also carry this punishment? I do not think that the child should be punished for the sins of the father. Do you?” “N-no sir.” Shame and fear made it impossible to keep eye contact. 

Papa cocked his head and moved toward you with his hands behind his back. “To answer your other question, no I’m not a demon, although I have been called Satan by some folks. This is probably not true I'm afraid, I’m simply the leader of this church. As you have guessed by now, it is a satanic church. And here in this dream, in this church we are free from the eyes of your supposed God. We’re free to discuss anything even if it seems blasphemous to you. Ohkay?” You nod your head somewhat unnerved at his mention of this being a dream. “Now let's discuss this original sin.” Papa said in a commanding tone, pacing in front of you. “Tell me how was Eve so evil that her punishment is on you? Hmm why are you cursed? Please Sorella, tell me.” The shadows seemed to swallow up your meager response. “She listened to the serpent and disobeyed God.” Saying out loud it seemed so small and insignificant. Your mind scrambled for more than just a sentence of injustice towards God. “And, and she also caused Adam to fall into the sin of disobedience too.” At this he nodded, “Tell me, does the crime fit the punishment? That is if you can even call what Eve did a sin. Has no one else disobeyed God? Is all of humanity also punished when they do?” As you desperately scrambled for answers your mind unhelpfully focused on one thing. “Um, what do you mean Eve didn’t sin? God told her not to eat the fruit, but she did it anyways. Disobeying God is a sin. Terzo stopped in front of the dreamer framed by stained glass and moonlight. 

In a low voice he asked, “And how would she even know that this was wrong? She had no knowledge of sin. Your own book says they were ignorant, they did not know right from wrong. So how would Eve even know that to transgress was to sin?” At this you had no real answers. You could feel your mouth open and close. He pressed on, “And besides did Satan cause her harm or was it Yahweh who cursed all that day?” Your body instinctually reeled back at his blasphemous words. The frustrating fact was you had never thought of that. You had no real answers to his questions. “I don’t know” you timidly answered. “Do you still think that Eve deserved what happened to her?” The answer was dragged out of your core,“No sir." It felt like blasphemy across your tongue. Guilt hit you like a train, you had blamed Eve for an action that didn’t even deserve punishments. 

At your answer Emeritus was suddenly in front of you and placed a hand gently under your chin. Without breaking eye contact he leaned in closer and in a soft tone asked, “Please Cara it is Papa that is my title, will you call me that?” Your cheeks burned and you swallowed dryly as you nodded your head. “Yes sir, I-I mean P-Papa, s-s-sorry. At this he drew close to your ear smiling, he released your chin. “Brava ragazza” he purred in your ear, sending shivers up your spine. Taking a step back he watched you enjoying the look on your face. You desperately hoped that he didn’t notice your reaction. Looking into his eyes however, you saw that he had in fact noticed. 

As embarrassment bled through you, he sent you a wink. Shock waves ran through you, twisting your stomach.  Another shiver went up your spine when you saw how one eye seemed to be glowing in the night. A soft chuckle reached your ears as Papa began to speak once more. “Bella, I want you to know that Lucifer is not interested in your pain, but in your freedom and pleasure.” He growled out that last word. “Something I would love to participate in.” Arousal clenched at your stomach as you squirmed under his intense gaze. Your mind fought for any control over your sudden desire. “Are you trying to pull me out of my religion or something, and what did you mean about answering my cry? I didn't cry out to anyone.” “Oh, but you were and he heard you.” With concern shining in his eyes as he asked, “Why were you crying hmm?” “What? No I.. n...no I it's none of your business." A weak reply came. “Don’t want me to know?” Papa hummed. He looked away, cocking his head to the side in thought. It almost looked like he was listening to an unseen voice. Eyes snap back to your face. “Perhaps it is about your religion and you do not want to tell what the church calls your enemy, yes?  Is that it? Sister, I do not want that. No, no I don’t want to be your enemy.” 

Fear and desire shot through you; how did he know that? How did he know you were Christian? Was this really a work of the devil? At that thought guilt swept through you for wanting this man. He was a satanic priest for Christ sakes! “I don’t want you to live in forced ignorance and fear,” he continued, “But in independence and happiness.” With a sharp inhale of air, you shot back, “Forced?! I’m not forced into... Again, your voice faded away as memories came flooding back to your mind. A pastor standing over you asking if you had been reading any questionable books lately. Or how as a child you would hide stories you really wanted to know the ending to. But you knew that having done so could get you in trouble. Even now you were hiding the fact that you had started to learn about subjects while not outright banned in the church, would cause people to be concerned for you in said church. 

Seeing the troubled look on your face, Papa brought out the fruit again and continued. “I have been called many things by people, most just say I am evil. But if you ask me, the real evil is hurting people who question them. Punishing those who dare to listen to other ideas that are different from what they say is right. This is what you have done, yes? Your hunger for the truth is what caught Lucifer’s attention, but doubts slow you down." At this he brought his hand up to his heart and in a smooth tone said, "You still want to please your lord. Such undeserved loyalty.” 

You shift unsure of your resolve in your own faith. You had one last argument. A desperate prayer to keep you from falling into this man's temptation. “God has given me my life, of course he deserves my loyalty. He cleansed me of my sin and wickedness. Made me whole, and has sacrificed to save me from hell.” Papa grunted, “And who would send you to hell Cara? It’s not Satan now is it? No, I believe it was Yahweh who created hell. It was him who sent people and angels to their eternal torment. At least according to your holy book. I don’t think that a tyrant like that deserves to have your worship... Do you?” 

Unable to answer you shake your head. "No, I don't think I like the idea of your pretty lips praising him." He murmured in a low tone. You felt your face grow hot and  knew that your ears were turning bright red. Chuckling at your reaction Papa moves to your side and places a hand on your shoulder giving it a squeeze. In the darkness surrounded by the smell of incense you unconsciously leaned in closer to him. In that moment you really did feel like God couldn’t see you. Like he was shielding you from God’s eyes. Giving these thoughts a chance to freely come to fruition in your mind without the fear that God could be seeing them. 

A noise of approval came from Papa as he held up the offering again. Before you took it you turned to look at him. “Are you expecting me to join your church? What if the answers I find lead me away from both God and the Devil?” At this his scowl softened and he gave a small smile. “We are a religion of free thought and free will. Lucifer does not make it a habit to punish those who don’t follow him. No one here is going to force you to do anything you don’t want to.” He waved the fruit in the air. “This is a gift you can take it or leave it. If you do not accept then nothing will be done, and you are free to go whenever you want. No harm will come to you here… Sorella, do you want this gift?” 

Unable to stop your answer from slipping out you whisper a hoarse yes. At this a predatory gleam enters his eyes and before you can even reach out to take it, he holds the gift to your lips. The hand on your shoulder slips down to your lower back as he leans in and softly and growls in your ear, “Take a bite.” 

Feeling the cool skin of the fruit against your lips you place your hand on his wrist and tilt your head for a better angle. As your teeth pierce the flesh juice runs down your chin, some even running down his hand. Bittersweet flavors burst on to your tongue. A gloved hand left your back to carefully wipe at the liquid running down your chin. You felt your body clench at the sight of him putting the finger in his mouth. He made sure you saw his tongue working to clean it off. With a satisfied moan he placed his hand on your back again giving you another gentle squeeze. “The flavor is bittersweet, no? Sometimes the truth is hard to hear, it can sting for a little while. But oh, Sorella, the freedom that comes after? Yes, that freedom is the sweetest thing, making it all worth it. 

Nodding you can already taste the sweetness overpowering the initial bite of bitterness. You watched in rapped attention as Papa brought the fruit up to his lips and took a bite of his own. Joining you in an act of sinful rebellion. Like Adam and Eve, you thought as he chewed. You noticed that juice had also trickled down his chin, and without thinking reached up and wipe it away. Shocked, you freeze as he places your finger into his mouth. Dragging his tongue along your finger he softly sucks at your finger. A groan starts in the back of your throat as he moans around the digit. A popping sound echoes through the chapel as he pulls out your finger. Pushing himself closer he turns you so that you’re pressed against each other. Forgotten produce falls to the floor as both hands hold on to you. 

One hand comes up to grip your chin. A thumb presses and pulls down your lower lip while fingers curl under your chin. He carefully tilts your head making it impossible to look away. For the second time that night he moaned unknown words into your ear. “Brava ragazza.” Even without knowing what that meant, the tone of his voice made you jerk against him. A dark chuckle sounded against you as he moved his mouth down from your ear to your cheek and towards your mouth. His warm breath tickled your skin as he left little kisses on the way to your lips. Stopping for a second, he let the tension build as his other hand lazily traced circles on your back. Then suddenly he pulled you in even closer catching your mouth in his. At your gasp of surprise, he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips. Tasting the flavor of the fruit all over again, you felt him lightly grind into you. Making sure you had no doubts about what he thought of you, and what he wanted to do with you. 

Sooner that you liked he parted breathless and staring at each other he spoke. “Mm good...yes?” You nod dumbly at the question. “Yes, yes very good, at least I thought so.” He continued, “Now go out and find those answers for yourself, and don’t let anyone or anything stand in your way. Are you going to do that for Papa?” The question jarred you out of a trance. For the first time that night you answered confidently. “Yes, but not just for you, but for me.” At this feel his body shake under your hands in quiet mirth at your answer. “Perfect!” he exclaimed, leaning back and breaking the embrace. Distracted by the loss of contact you almost missed the last words. “See you soon Sorella, and maybe next time you can tell me your name.” Before you can even process his words you are dragged back into the waking world. Short of breath and sweating your mind was reeling. What the fuck was that, you thought, it felt so real was it really just a dream? It seemed like you could still taste the flavor of that forbidden fruit. Wait, you had heard him say different words and phrases in a language you did not know. Grabbing your phone, you start to search the internet to see if those words even meant anything. Quickly you found that yes, they were real words in Italian. While somewhat familiar with Bella and Cara you had no idea what brava ragazza meant. With trembling hands, you type in the phrase. Your breath stops when you realize that he was calling a good girl in Italian. That made you clench your legs together as you felt even more arousal pool in between your legs. Having woken up already slick and panting you were embarrassingly soaked now. You guessed that is how dreams work though. If that was even a dream. You were pretty sure that you can't dream in another language. Even if it was just a few words. Maybe a vision then, you thought swallowing hard. If that’s the case then what did he mean, see you soon? Will you actually meet him in real life? Unsure of these questions you decide to focus on the questions that are possible to answer. Until then you had some research, learning and thinking to do. You're going to test your faith and you wouldn't let anyone stand in your way.

[terrathetulpa]

Oh dear, I am awake

I know it's 9am and a totally normal time to be awake, but I didn't sleep last night at all. Which is definitely at least partly my own fault. I kind of gave in to my worst habits, but it's not like I planned to do that!

I mean I only stayed up until 4am playing Terraria because I thought it'd be a struggle to sleep if I tried sleeping earlier than that. The night before I tried to go to bed at midnight and didn't sleep until 5am. But this is actually the first strike, isn't it? Because the night before I did try to sleep at midnight, which was supposed to be my consistent bedtime. I guess the idea is you're supposed to try every night and eventually it just... starts working?

So anyway, I couldn't sleep and so I was up in the dead of night (Or early morning) eating toast with shitty un-melted butter on it, and I thought of this Twitch stream I like. There's this one streamer that kind of has a way of making me sleepy sometimes but only when they're playing this one specific game that they play. So I got on my phone in bed to watch them... play a different game-

But like- I hadn't seen them play this game before. Maybe it would also make me sleepy? Why would I gamble on that at 5am? I think it's because 5am is the breeding ground of poor decisions. (I wish I had a breeding ground...) Anyway, that was 2 because you're only supposed to use your bed for sleep and sex according to the mayonnaise website. (Oh, the bed is the breeding ground!)

Anyway, so I watched that until 8:30am because it was honestly really interesting. The game looks cool I might get it.

I guess strike 3 is that you're not supposed to have a TV or a clock in your sleeping area. I do have a clock but it faces away from the bed. I just got it last night as a matter of fact. An alarm clock to wake me up at the appropriate time. Unfortunately you need to be sleeping first or it doesn't do anything. It doubles as a white noise machine because I have horrible tinnitus. I figure it's fine because I definitely can't see it from the bed.

I also have a big projector. There's a large theater screen built into the wall over the bed. It's not like I can move the thing out. I guess I thought about moving all the consoles out and just not using it, but I'm not the only one who uses the room. The singlets might wonder why there's no games in the place where they play games during the day.

That's still two things I could improve on though... oh, I also neglected to exercise yesterday. That's strike... four?? hmm... To think my last post was so gung ho about putting my sleep schedule back together. Was it all just words Terra? No no. I'm cataloguing it all here because I really do want to do something about it. Well, that and I thought the Tumblr crowd would be able to relate to struggling to sleep. Maybe if I really could get back to sleeping peacefully through nights via the power of internet research and force of will I could inspire the sleepless to take their beds into their own hands- except you shouldn't do that because they're generally quiet heavy and require at least two people to lift them. You know what I meant.

That and I'm still missing the regular dreams I used to routinely record in my dream journal. They can be very pretty, and very pleasant too. How could I miss out on that for Terraria? Like it's a cool game but, jeez I really caught the dumb on this one.

The really horrible news for me is that in order to go back to following this advice I have to stay up all day after not sleeping all night. I'm not even sure I can do that. But I'm not exercising on no sleep, I'd rather eat a live bird.

[eveenstar]

Toby falling in love with his doctor's daughter | Headcanons (part 1?)

This was revealed to me in a dream ✋🏻 yes this is inspired by David Near's The Morgue Files but since I wasn't sure if we could do fanfic about it, I created my own character inspired by it! I'll call this an experiment, so depending on how well it is received by you all I might do a part 2 :)

Doctor Frederick Faulkner, commonly known as Freddie or Fred by his co-workers, was Tobias' doctor. A man of prestige, but underlooked by his bosses. The fact he chose to treat a severe mentally ill murderer made everyone believe the doctor himself was insane.

He wasn't the first one though, his fellow co-worker Doctor Crow had also taken a murderer similar to Toby under his wing. The fact that there was someone else in the building who claimed to have seen the Tall Man frightened Toby at the time, as the boy wasn't quite a proxy yet, but close to being one. Stage 2, perhaps?

Throughout the sessions they had together, Toby found out Doctor Faulkner had a daughter just around his age. A very bright one, but a bit troublesome sometimes, just like any girl in her late teenage years would be like. He didn't know how she looked like, her father was very restrictive to that extent. His friendliness towards Toby didn't change what he was, a man who murdered his parents and set fire to his childhood house with the guests still inside.

However, this changes when you appear at the door unplanned. Just as Toby is being taken to his regular Wednesday's session, he sees you standing in front of the door, hesitant to knock.

At first, he doesn't know who you are. You're not a patient, but you're also not a doctor or nurse. Maybe a former patient visiting? Hell, does anyone actually leave this Institute?

But then the guards escorting him speak up, "Miss Faulkner, what brings you here?"

Oh, well, that's unfortunate. Toby didn't want to meet you either (though the curious part of his mind did) because even if he denies the existence of the Tall Man, he knows you'd be put in danger.

Still, he thinks you're pretty. The way you turned around to greet the guards, but how your eyes landed on him and he saw the oh-so-familiar glimpse of fear behind them. You must be aware of who he is, or maybe the chains around his feet and hands scared you enough.

What Faulkner said was true, you do have the fire of youth in your eyes. The urge to fight, to talk back, to party, to....do everything Toby could not.

The door to the office opens and there stands the doctor, eyes wild open once he notices his daughter standing there. Clearly you didn't announce your visit and you should've. Frederick sighs, before urging you inside and lifting his finger up for "one second".

The last time he saw you before you disappeared off of the radar (at least he didn't see you again so maybe you wouldn't come back) was after you walked off his office saying "You'll regret this!" and leaving a clearly disappointed Fred behind.

Don't fret, nothing serious happened. Apparently Faulkner was so caught up in his work that he missed his marriages birthday and well...his wife wasn't pleased.

In the following days, Toby did some sketches of you. Doodles, even. He's not a great artist but he's had time to practice, and it's better than drawing that creature over and over again, just to repeat the cycle the next day.

He's had crushes before, sure. Hallway crushes. Market crushes. Girls he'll never see again, but for that split moment of time he thought they were pretty. Surely he's not that bad that he became infatuated with someone who didn't even talk to him?

But he wants to know more about you; what do you do, who are your friends, how your pretty little life was like...yet he can't. There is no way your father will open up about you more than he already has; he's already this close to finding out about the drawings he keeps of you.

It's been a while since he sees you again; Toby's lost track of time but he'd say maybe a month or so until you show up, this time it seems you managed to convince your dad to let you stay during a session. Of course, when asked about it Toby didn't care despite the thought of opening up with a strange person present made him uncomfortable.

Even thought you're sitting behind him, he can hear you writing down notes. The doctor assures him it's nothing about him, rather the entire appointment as a whole. You're studying psychology, maybe to follow your father's footsteps?

Only when Doctor Faulkner turns around to grab some papers is when Toby manages to also turn around to take a glance at you; not expecting you to be already staring at him, or rather, your dad, and then looking over to him.

Before, your face was calm, monotonous of any emotion, with lips set on a straight line, but then....then your eyes landed on him and a nervous smile formed on your face.

"Hello," You said.

"Toby!"

Yeah, that was enough to scold him back into track. Your father didn't want you here at all, but now? Now Toby did. In his twisted mind, a dangerous idea pushed by whispers began to form.

"My daughter, would you be so kind to get me a bottle of water from the cafeteria?" Was that his way to send you off? Sure. But you'll be back.

But things don't always work our way, at least not in Toby's life.

The alarms went off a few minutes after you left. Everything is blinking red and it's too, too loud and loud and- screams. There's people screaming.

He knows it's here. This is his work. There's a dark cloud forming in the back of his mind, the same fog from the night he killed his parents and their friends. Faulkner is far too concerned with leaving the office and go get you that he doesn't notice Toby trailing after him.

But it wasn't Toby who did the final blow, thought you might believe otherwise because of the red stains all over his white hospital outfit. He doesn't know who it was, all he knows is that you were standing behind your father as he fell to the ground with a petrified look on your face.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!