#when does it start to make sense? does it ever start to make sense at all?

[chiscaralight]

being roommates with kinich!! but you swear he hates you. he’s such pretty thing! but he almost never talks to you. he’ll do all the dishes, take out and fold your laundry and leave it on top of the washer dryer for you, he’ll clean when you’re not home and even leave food out for you when you get back late! but he just. won’t. speak to you!!!

and it’s driving you insane. you just want to get to know him! he’s gorgeous and he seems really sweet. he’s also built just the way you like. slender and toned, with the strongest gaze you’ve ever felt. is it so much to want to talk (and maybe fuck) your absolutely perfect roommate?

it’s driving you insane! so insane, that you start to miss when certain articles of clothes don’t come back from the laundry you pick up on top of the machine. maybe you didn’t actually put those panties in the bin this time, but who cares? kinich is shirtless while he does dishes this time, it’s the exact moment you need to pretend to watch something on tv!

and your sideward glances are not as slick as you think they are, because he knows exactly what you’re doing. it’s a ring from the doorbell that has you rolling your eyes, going to see who’s disturbing your peace while he licks the fork you used to eat the food he cooked a few hours ago. by the time you return, he’s already done, wiping down the counter and making his way back to his room wordlessly. you sigh in exasperation, you didn’t even get time to think about what fake story you could cook up to get him to talk to you! but as you groan at your misfortune in the living room, his fingers are wrapped hard around his cock, nose pressed into the underwear he’s stolen from you this time. It doesn’t take long before he’s making a mess around his hand, traces of your scent flooding his senses. but this pair is starting to lose its smell and he’s getting more and more fed up. how much longer can he keep this up before he breaks?

for you, it’s not much longer, because your fingers are deep in your cunt, thrusting in and out while you try to silence your sounds. you can’t even help the way his name slips from your mouth, you can’t even control it! it’s not your fault he’s been all over your mind for the past few weeks, at work, in classes, in the shower, it’s just too much for you!

and maybe you were just a bit louder than you expected, because your door is cracking open a few moments later, the afformentionef problem staring down at you ask you freeze up. he’s still deathly quiet as always, but he's practically jumping for joy in his mind. this is like a dream come true? you’ve basically been served to him on a silver platter, and he’ll make sure to not waste a single bite.

maybe a bit too literally, because your neck and chest are covered with love bites from his lips. one hand is holding one of yours above your head, the other very slowly brushing against your clit, big difference in the way he’s absolutely drilling into you. and you swear your seeing stars, moans morphing into cries as he angles up just the slightest bit, cock prodding against the walls of your cunt. it’s almost like magic, the way you feel. and he’s much less quiet now, because once his lips are on yours, he’s groaning into your mouth, teeth clashing with yours as he drags his lips downwards to sink his teeth into your skin again.

his build isn’t just for show either, because he’s flipping you over with such ease, holding your hips just where he needs them to be as he bullies his cock right back in.

kinich who now realizes how much power he holds over you, because whenever he even just as much passes by you, he can see your body tense up just the slightest bit. and he used it to his advantage! riling you up throughout the days with weird looks and soft touches, before ultimately deciding to bend you over the counter because he misses that cunt so much already </3

he’ll leave the door unlocked when he gets back, settling on the couch with speed so he can drag you onto his lap and have you ride him because it’s all he could think about in his classes.

and kinich that will beg you to let him cum in that sweet pussy just once, but between the two of you oh both know he’s lying. he’ll keep fucking his cum into you over and over, until he’s cumming inside you once again. he just can’t help it! you’re sucking him in so good like this, what did you expect him to do.

just like the way he took care of the little things, when you’re spent, on the verge of passing out on his cock, he’ll scoop you up and take you to his room, cleaning you up and wrapping you in his blankets so he can stay with you the entire night.

[yunwangja]

undercurrents | signal no. 18

masterlist

"this was such a good idea,"

alisa sighs contentedly, setting down her fork with a satisfied smile. kuroo mirrors her expression, nodding in agreement, though his mind drifts elsewhere.

inside, a war is raging. everything about this feels wrong, but it's the right thing to do. at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

he tries to maintain his composure, to focus on the woman in front of him, but beneath the surface, he’s being torn apart. it’s maddening - the frustration, confusion, and anger building up inside. emotions he knows he shouldn’t be feeling, not now, not here.

kuroo was brought up to be a "good" guy. make the people around you comfortable, give them a hand when they need to, and help bring out the best in them. he lived his whole life being the reliable, friendly guy that is ready to give you a push whenever you need him.

in his mind, it means he can’t afford to be selfish. it’s simple: if it makes others happy, it should make him happy too. and when he wants something for himself? well, he should bury that desire, deny it for the greater good. because that's his "role".

that's how he mastered the art of masking his own feelings, hiding behind a smile, always keeping things light and fun. anything to avoid ruining the peace, to avoid letting people see how conflicted he truly is. if he messes up, in his eyes, he’ll have failed. the tetsuro kuroo everyone knows and relies on would be gone.

he knows kenma can see through it. kenma’s always been his voice of reason, telling him it’s okay to be honest, to not always put himself last. but it’s no use. kuroo can’t afford to believe that - not when the cost of expressing his true feelings seems so high.

so, he convinces himself that this is for the best, even though he knows deep down that if he could, he’d treat you so much better. he’d hold you close, knowing you belonged there. just seeing you smile could melt all his troubles away, and even the slightest brush of your hand would send his heart racing.

to him, you are everything. beautiful, kind, funny, and passionate. but it’s more than that. something about you makes him weak in a way no one else ever has. you make him want to be selfish, to want you all for himself, no matter the consequences.

he’ll do anything for you - even if it means forgetting you. because that’s what he thinks you want. you don’t need him complicating things with his feelings, not when you like someone else, even if you call it a harmless crush. it’s ruining whatever you already have. so, he’ll keep this up.

alisa and kuroo continued to talk, and he tried his best to get to know more about alisa, outside being his project partner and classmate. all he knew about her was that she had a little brother who was also into volleyball, which sparked most of their conversations before. besides, he needed to distract himself from thinking about you.

honestly, he feels bad. this date is probably something you both just wanted to try out, but he can't help but feel like he's forcing himself to be here when alisa is genuinely great.

as they finish their dessert and wrap up the conversation, kuroo can’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. he’s managed to put up the front, to act like everything’s fine. maybe if he does this enough, he’ll actually start to believe it. maybe, eventually, he’ll forget about you.

“i had a great time, alisa,” he says, turning to her with a small smile.

“this was a really nice date. i felt comfortable.” the lie slips out effortlessly, though he did genuinely enjoy getting to know her better.

alisa raises an eyebrow, her expression shifting to one of amused confusion. “wait, what?” she lets out a small laugh, “a date?”

kuroo tilts his head slightly, caught off guard. “yeah?”

she shakes her head, still smiling. “this wasn’t a date, kuroo.”

for a second, the words don’t register. then, when they do, he feels his stomach drop. holy shit. embarrassment rushes over him as he quickly tries to backtrack.

“oh god,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “i’m sorry.”

alisa’s expression softens, and she waves it off casually. “no, no. did i lead you on? i didn’t mean to. i’m sorry if i made it seem that way.”

kuroo shakes his head quickly. “no, it’s not your fault. i just misunderstood. honestly, at first, i didn’t think of you like that, but when you asked me out for coffee, i thought - well, maybe.”

alisa nods slowly, her expression apologetic. “i’m still sorry, though. i guess i should’ve been clearer when i asked.”

he shrugs it off, offering a weak smile. “it’s fine. really. i hope this doesn’t make things awkward.”

alisa shakes her head this time, "don't worry, as long as we're on the same page. you're a great guy yourself, kuroo." she smiles at him.

he returns the smile, but inside, his mind is racing. despite the embarrassment, a strange relief settles over him, washing away the tension he’s been carrying all evening. it feels wrong to be this relieved, almost like he’s betraying the plan he’d set for himself, but the truth is undeniable.

why is he relieved? all of a sudden, although he feels emotionally tired from all the torture he gave himself throughout today, it's like his inner self was screaming, thank God.

a wave of emotions crashes over him, sudden and overwhelming, as if the universe is trying to tell him something. like, this was a sign.

he freezes, the thought hitting him hard. it's absurd, reckless even. after everything he’s put himself through today, after all the mental battles and efforts to push you away, this would undo it all. it goes against every rational argument he’s made for why he should forget you.

but the relief flooding his chest is undeniable, drowning out the logic he’s clung to. it’s like a voice, quiet at first but growing louder, insistent, cutting through his doubt until it’s the only thing he can hear:

he loves you, and it's you who he wants to be with.

without another thought, kuroo stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

“thank you, alisa. i’m sorry again. but i have to go.”

"i want you, y/n."

his words echo in the quiet room, and for a moment, all you can do is stare, frozen in place. the intensity in kuroo’s eyes sends a shiver down your spine, and you’re not sure whether it’s the surprise or the weight of his confession that makes your heart race.

kuroo lets out a shaky breath, his voice raw. “i know you like tooru. and i know you’ve explained to me how you feel about him, how it’s always been. but even knowing all of that, i couldn’t stop wanting you.”

his gaze drops to the floor, as if he’s ashamed to admit it. “i kept telling myself that i didn’t have the right. that i shouldn’t want you. but no matter how hard i tried, i couldn’t help it. i just do.”

there’s a vulnerability in his tone that you’ve never heard before. kuroo, who’s always so composed, so confident, now stands in front of you, his emotions laid bare.

“i don’t know if you’ll hate me for this or if this will ruin everything between us, but i... i can’t stand on the sidelines anymore.”

his fists clench slightly at his sides, his voice almost breaking. “i’m tired of pretending i’m okay with it. tired of forcing a smile when all i want is something i convinced myself i couldn’t have.”

he steps closer to you, his eyes lifting to meet yours again, filled with something that leaves you breathless.

“from the day i saw you smile... i wanted you. even if that smile wasn’t for me.”

the room feels smaller, the air heavier, as you try to process everything he’s saying. a part of you wants to speak, to say something, but nothing comes out. instead, you find yourself moving without thinking - your arms wrapping around him, pulling him close.

kuroo stiffens for just a second, caught off guard by your hug. he doesn’t know what this meant, but in the midst of his confusion, his arms come around you slowly, holding you close, his fingers curling gently into the fabric of your shirt.

maybe she just missed me, he thinks. or maybe you felt touched by his confession. he tries to make sense of it by thinking that you were too happy to see him that you just weren’t able to control it. he’s been avoiding you lately, after all.

you glance over his shoulder, and there were your friends, peeking around the corner, smirking like they’ve been waiting for this moment all along. you pull back slightly from kuroo, cheeks burning, and clear your throat.

“come on,” you whisper, guiding him toward your room to escape their prying eyes. once inside, you close the door behind you, trying to ignore the heat that’s rising to your face.

the two of you sit on the edge of your bed, but there’s still a careful distance between you, an unspoken barrier that neither of you know how to cross just yet.

kuroo breaks the silence first, his voice hesitant. “so...”

you glance at him, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. you know you need to say something, but finding the right words feels impossible. after a moment, you take a deep breath and decide to start with the truth.

“you know about my last relationship, right?”

he nods silently, his eyes softening as he waits for you to continue.

“well… it scarred me. i decided after that… i didn’t want to fall in love again. i didn’t think i could be a good girlfriend, so i chose to just admire from afar instead.” you pause.

as you start to explain, kuroo starts to decipher what you’re trying to say. immediately, he thinks this would end up in a rejection. why would you say these things to him anyway?

despite this, he wants to listen to what you have to say. it’s not like he’s expecting you to like him back. you feel his gaze on you, unwavering, and it makes it both easier and harder to keep going.

“i told myself i didn’t deserve anyone. even more guys that i thought was out of my league. that was the case too when i liked tooru. it was safe... i knew nothing would come of it - the reason why i used to say i just wanted to be an ‘observer’.”

kuroo stays quiet, letting your words sink in. there’s no judgment in his eyes, just understanding.

“i did my best to run away from romantic feelings,” you admit quietly. “because i didn’t think i deserve to be in love anyway.”

there’s a pause, a heavy silence that settles between you. then kuroo speaks, his voice gentle but firm. “we both know that’s not true.”

“is it, though?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

kuroo shifts closer, his eyes locking onto yours. “do you really think i would’ve fallen in love with you if that was true?”

the question takes you by surprise, and you don’t know how to respond. “i... i don’t know,” you stammer, unsure.

he shakes his head slightly, his expression softening. “you didn’t need to be my girlfriend for me to see that you’re more than capable of being loved. you didn’t have to prove anything to me. i’ve always seen it. you’re perfect the way you are, y/n.”

his voice drops lower, filled with emotion, looking down. “i would’ve done anything just to call you mine.”

his words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare at him. you can see the sincerity in his eyes, feel the truth behind every word he’s just said.

“kuroo,” you begin, your voice shaky. “i don’t like tooru anymore. i haven’t for a while now.”

his brow furrows, confusion flickering across his face. “but... i thought you guys were getting closer?”

you nod, a small, rueful smile on your lips. “we were, but only as friends, nothing more.”

kuroo’s eyes widen as realization dawns on him. tooru had been trying to push him toward you this whole time.

“kuroo,” you say again, gently pulling him out of his thoughts.

“yeah?” he replies, his voice a little unsteady.

“i know you just said you’re in love with me... but do you think i can?”

he tilts his head, eyes searching yours. “can you what?”

you hesitate for a moment, feeling your heart pound in your chest.

“can i fall in love with you too?”

kuroo’s eyes widen in shock, his body going rigid as he processes your words. for a moment, he’s completely still, his mouth opening slightly as if he’s searching for the right response. the room feels charged with the weight of your confession.

you watch as he takes a moment to absorb what you’ve just said. when he finally speaks, his voice is a whisper, filled with disbelief. “w-what?”

you give him a small, rueful smile, and continue, “you know, getting closer to tooru was because of you. he was also helping me figure things out.”

kuroo’s eyes widen further, a flicker of realization crossing his face. “because of me?”

you nod, your gaze steady. “yeah,"

the pieces start to fall into place for kuroo, and you can see the understanding dawn in his eyes. he takes a deep breath, his expression a mix of relief and intense emotion.

and then, in a swift, almost desperate movement, he reaches for you, pulling you close. his lips find yours with a kind of urgency that takes your breath away, the kiss filled with all the emotions he’s been holding back.

his hands frame your face gently, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. you can feel the tension melt away, replaced by something warm and undeniable.

when you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. kuroo lets out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek.

“of course,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

“please do.”

and then, without missing a beat, he kisses you again.

notes

kuroo borrowed yn's phone and tweeted (and not because i didnt realize the plot hole immediately)

yn and kuroo sitting in a tree : D

this ends undercurrents OMGG UGHHKFSDHFKSDFS

i hope this was a good ending !!!!!

dw because a special chapter is coming !!! bc ik i'll miss this plus i want u guys to see sum yn and kuroo moments as a couple because WHY NOT

i'll properly conclude everything there !!

so technically its not officially done???

taglist: @lvtilzs @rarararararq @iamfontenlos @kurooswifeyy @secretsunsetsociety @kagsnumnine @yumiecheesecrackers @tojirin @jaynawayna @noxva08 @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @mawenskiblue @smellysluna @cccccccccccleo @winniethepooh-lover @akirqx @cupidsblonde @kukkurookkoo@emotiandon @urslytherin @mochroialainn @avis-writeshq @sorrynotsorrh @walllflowerrrsss @viva-vxgue @chifuzzy @mikaela26sstuff

[ghouldtime]

Neighbor! König Part 2

Follow up to this:

After you expressed interest in his miniature collection, he actually actively OFFICIALLY invited you over one evening (and inside!)

It may not sound like much to most to be invited into someone's house but for him, it's the ultimate trust. His house is his private space, his sanctuary, where he goes to be without other people

He doesn't ever invite anyone inside unless necessary or they've truly gained his trust and being invited INTO his house, and actually into a shared space of one of the hobbies that matter the most to him?? Yeah, that's how he says he likes you

He's been working on his models and dioramas for so so long he's incredibly proud and can't help but to want to actually show them off to someone who wants to see

Usually most people don't care :( or think it's weird

But you've embraced it! You're so excited and he's over the moon, he's having the best day ever, if you do research and bring him gifts or show him some new ideas

He has exquisite attention to detail and INSISTS on everything being exactly the way he envisions it. And you notice! You actually notice. Which means you care about his hobbies, the work he puts in, and therefore him

It might be a bit early to say the L word but he's feeling certain ways

He may be a big dude but that doesn't mean he lacks fine motor skills. He's laying those tiny pieces of moss onto the cobble stones like a PRO

Miniatures allow him control over the environment, even if it's on a smaller scale, and offer a way to keep his hands and mind busy so he often throws himself into it

It also helps him relive happier memories. He's afraid of forgetting them and when he's stressing, it's his happy place because he can look at them and simply remember the things in life that matter

He'll ask you about a story you like or a favorite show or book or movie. That's his next miniature planned (in secret. Can't ruin the surprise, he needs to have it all perfect. He will either read the book, watch the movie, will study EVERY detail)

He will start to invite you over when he's having a painting night or is working on them. You don't have to follow his rules or do what he wants! He's just happy you're there and appreciating it

He will always have your favorite snacks and drinks in stock too. Need to make it fun and can't have you going hungry

If you want, he'll put on background noise! He's happy to make it immersive and to light a candle or put something in a diffuser to really set the scene you're going for. But he's perfectly happy to hangout with you as is

You'll finally get to hear him laugh and hear his really, really bad jokes. He has a dry sense of humor and most of what he says isn't even close to funny, he's awkward like that

But if you laugh? That's it, he's sold.

Time flies so fast when you're over, you don't even realize it's 3am

You don't need to go home! I know it's right across the street but he has a guest room and it saves you the trip in the morning. You have a whole nother round of characters to paint :)

Okay maybe it was an excuse so you could see the curtains he'd made and the pillows and he decorated the guest room with! Like actually tried decorating. They're made with love, that's what counts right?

Did he spray the pillows with his cologne before you came over? Maybe, but he won't ever admit to it

You can't complain. Not when he insists it's no trouble at all, you should stay over, and he does everything he can to make you comfortable.

And you're certainly not complaining when you wake up to breakfast in bed

He's so happy to finally have someone to share his life with, even if it's nothing official. He might not say it because words are hard, but he'll always show it in every way that he can 💚

If you look closely at the replica he made of his childhood home, you'll notice two figures in the kitchen who just so happen to look like you and him

Proud believer of König being just a guy! A guy with hobbies! A guy with a calm domestic life! Just because he's a private military contractor doesn't mean he's a constantly violent dude or a guy who lacks an immense amount of respect for boundaries. Sure, he gets really into his job when he does it, but that's his realm! That's his zone. That's why he's confident and having fun, he knows he's good

Outside of work, he's just a guy with a troubled childhood making the best of life and trying to find his own sense of belonging, happiness, and peace

Justice for König, he's not an insane perv or some freakytron or some stalker :(

[captain-joongz]

Thinking about free use husband!Joshua…

Coming home to him and wrapping your arms around him from behind while he is cooking .. kissing his neck and shoulders and teasing him until he gets hard

Making him keep cooking while you start to touch him cruelly, praising and degrading him in the same breath

And he loves it, letting you do whatever you want to him, making him submit, even though he would do it willingly, this way makes his body shake, until he has to turn off everything and stop before he collapses on the floor…

Maybe this doesn’t make any sense, maybe it does, I cant really tell im too tired 😭

- ✨

(Btw you’re gonna get that job!!)

so sorry for the delay darling, i ended up taking a little break for dinner and a shower, but now i'm back and more ready than ever to tackle this delicious scenario~

and thank you for the encouragement! i honestly don't know how to feel about the interview today, but hopefully it didn't go completely awfully haha! i have another one tomorrow afternoon, so there's more awaiting ! but that one is for an english teacher, which i think should be perfect for me <3

here's your delicious little story ✨anon <3 and as always, hard hours continue and will continue for another week !!

warnings: cursing, marking, subby Shua, handjob, cumming in pants

ooooh now, Joshua is a little bit of a wild card, isn't he? i feel that he has a strong and easy-going enough personality that people would assume he'd like to naturally lead, but also there's this air of gentleness and prettiness about him that just screams "i'll let someone take care of me", not to mention that he's a sassy little bastard

so maybe he would sometimes brat out a little, have some cheeky remarks, but deep down he just loved submitting to you, especially when you came home all fired up from a long hard day at work. oh he'd know that you'd need to get your hands on him and unwind with the fierce aura of exhaustion and frustration enveloping you

he'd at least hoped he'd be able to finish the dinner he was preparing for the two of you, but then you were in the kitchen, wrapping your hands around him in a back-hug, smushing your face into his shoulder

"hard day?"

"oh god, you don't even know. janet from accounting is being a cunt again, it's crazy."

for a few moments the chatter between you flowed without interruption, you hanging off of him and loudly complaining about a coworker that's been making your life ten thousand times harder, and he'd started to relax and focused back onto cooking

but that's what you were waiting for

the second you could feel him untense in your hold, your hands started to wander. at first only slowly caressing his sides or across his tummy, touches that could easily be read as comfort, but then your hand strayed a little too up and pressed up on his nipple just as you pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck, both feeling and hearing his breath hitch under you

"baby..." he'd say breathlessly, trying to reprimand you but his body would already be heating up with the promises it came to understand from your hands

you wouldn't stop, for anything, busying yourself by leaving hot laving kisses to his neck and behind his ear, one hand carefully massaging his scalp and tugging at his hair while the other one slyly made its way under his t-shirt to tease his nipple without the barrier of clothing

you'd love the feeling of him tensing under you, his body going all high-strung when you'd press down on the stiff little peak and push it around with your lazy fingers, breaths leaving him in huffs and sighs every time you'd tug his hair a little harder

he'd still try to pretend to be fully focused on cooking, but it would all grow hazy in front of his eyes, his lids threatening to fall shut with every electrifying rush of lust and pleasure from your ministrations, and soon he'd start messing up - clumsy hands dropping the spoon, crushing the ingredients in his palms on every hard bite you distributed to his neck, and you'd chuckle at his plight

"what is it, baby? aren't you a little clumsy tonight?"

he'd huff at your words but say nothing, stubbornly trying to ignore you and your games - and that would only stoke your fire and provoke you into upping the ante

now sticking your both your hands under his clothes, one migrating to give attention to the other nipple while the second naughty hand travelled south until you were cupping his half-hard cock and punching a moan out of him

"Shua, baby, you're not paying attention to the food at all, i'm so disappointed. i was looking forward to your cooking all day, but you can't focus long enough to not burn it..."

"don't be so mean" he'd whine and you'd tsk at him

"is that any way to talk to me?" gripping him harder, you'd love the way he'd groan under you, hands abandoning the utensils to grip at the counter, but you'd quickly grab them and push them back to the pot

"go on, baby, cook for me if you want my praises"

and Joshua would give it a valiant try, he really would, stirring the food in little aborted motions while you rolled his nipples between your fingers and kissed at the bitten and marked skin of his neck, hand massaging and squeezing the growing bulge in his pants, and the kitchen would be full of the sounds of hissing cooking food and his little sighs and breathless moans

but he'd know it's game over town the moment your hand slipped into his pants and gripped his cock. the skin on skin contact was almost enough to send him crashing to the ground, knees buckling and knocking into each other with the surge of pleasure. and yeah, he definitely didn't even see what he was doing anymore, head tipped back and whines spilling out with every slow measured stroke on his cock

you'd see his hands shaking on the utensils, you'd see how he'd start losing focus, not moving them anymore, instead jerking his hips in tiny little circles to fuck into your hand - and of course you'd still him and tell him he needed to do better - and of course he'd moan at that, his cock jumping in excitement

"i c-can't, fuck, wanna cum please-" you'd recognise the tell tale signs he was close, the way he'd squeeze his eyes shut while his mouth fell open, the way his whines got more and more high-pitched and his hips shook as he supressed the need to pump them into the tightness of your fist

"go on, baby, you've been such a good boy for me"

and that would be all it took for him to frantically start turning the stove off, barely managing to catch onto the counter before the combined stimulation of you biting his ear and squeezing the tip of his throbbing cock sent him over the edge and he came in his pants, shaking in your arms with soft cries

Shua would turn to jelly in your embrace, barely even holding up on his own two feet while the half-cooked food cooled down on the stove, but it would be hard to pay attention to anything else except for his body thrumming with the release and the gentle kisses and praises you whispered into his lips for listening to you so well

divider by @cafekitsune

[dark-frosted-heart]

Choose Your True Love - Keith Howell (part 4/4)

This is the from the 4th anniversary event.

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. 

(—I didn’t expect this)

Alter!Keith: You don’t even look sleepy.

Emma: You’ll be surprised by how gutsy I can be.

Alter!Keith: So you’re saying you didn’t cry during the fight or when people were hurling insults?

Emma: Well…I wouldn’t say cry, but rather, I’ve gotten so angry I thought I’d explode.

Alter!Keith: Wish I did something about that. Would’ve been interesting to see you rage.

Moonlight dimly lit the room.

Prince Keith was sitting on my bed, staring down at me as I lay on my bed.

The way it felt like he was watching my every move made me so nervous, I wondered if he could hear my heart beating. 

Alter!Keith: … Sorry.

(...For what happened back at the estate, I’m guessing)

(I have a feeling he’s not used to apologizing)

The way he awkwardly looked away was so different from how cold he was toward the nobles. I felt some sort of adoration.

Emma: Just words?

Alter!Keith: Is there something you want?

Emma: I want you to sleep.

Alter!Keith: You’re still worried about these dark circles? Too bad I’m not feeling sleepy.

Emma: You might fall asleep if you just close your eyes.

Alter!Keith: I’m still not done dealing with those people, so there’ll be trouble if he comes to the front. …Well, causing trouble would be convenient for me.

Prince Keith snickered at that and I couldn’t sense his true intentions.

Suddenly, everything that happened today flashed before my eyes.

(Wicked Prince Keith didn’t have any obligation to put so much effort into taking over government affairs and work)

(The reason why he does what he does is for the sake of the nice Prince Keith)

(So much more than I could ever imagine…He only lives for the nice Prince Keith)

(Probably never for himself)

I tried to hold back the tears that started to well up as I continued to think about how he supported the nice Prince Keith all by himself, without anyone being aware.

(I’m frustrated by the fact that I can’t do anything to help, even when I’m right beside him)

(But I don’t want to keep being someone that can’t do anything)

Alter!Keith: Hm?

I sat up on the bed and turned toward him.

I then gently placed my hands over Prince Keith’s ears.

Alter!Keith: What are you doing?

Emma: Warming your ears can help you calm down and relax. There’s too many unpleasant feelings today and I want to make them go away. …Please let me at least do this.

(I want to help lift this burden, even if it’s just for now)

Alter!Keith: …

Prince Keith’s sigh melted into the dimly lit room.

Seeing the somewhat vulnerable look on his face after he released his pent- up emotions loosened the strings tightened around my heart.

Alter!Keith: That guy’s future fiancee sure is softhearted.

Emma: …How did you know?

Alter!Keith: You don’t look like the type to invite someone else to your room when you’re engaged.

A bony finger traced over the engagement ring on my finger that had two jade stones of different colors.

Alter!Keith: If you really are his fiancee in the future… Is that guy finally smiling?

(...This was what he wanted to ask back in the study)

Though he asked nonchalantly, there was an underlying desire in his voice.

Emma: …Yes, he’s smiling. So, so much. Every day, from morning to night, he’ll smile on various occasions. Whenever our eyes meet or we pass by each other, the smiles reach his eyes…Ah, when we made sweets the other day, I got so shy with how much he smiled. It was so cute… And before we sleep—mmph.

Alter!Keith: I didn’t tell you to gush about it.

(Hmm, I was doing that)

I nodded and he removed his hand from my mouth.

Alter!Keith: Well it sounds like he’s happy…else there’d be no point in me being around. … That guy came back.

(Ah…)

Emma: Even you smile just as much as him.

Alter!Keith: Huh…me?

Emma: Of course.

Alter!Keith: What…I didn’t disappear?

(Ah, I thought so)

~~ Flashback ~~

Alter!Keith: Haha, so I played with you in the future? Well, you do look gullible.

~~ End flashback ~~

(It’s been on his mind this whole time)

(The way he said it, he assumed he didn’t exist anymore in the future)

Since his very existence was supposed to be impossible, it’s only natural for him to think that way.

(But I don’t want him to assume that)

(I want Prince Keith of the past to know he has a future)

Emma: In the future, I’m engaged to both Prince Keiths. I love you both and you’re both more important to me than anything else.

Alter!Keith: …

Emma: That’s why I don’t want you to think you’re someone that will disappear. I won’t let you think that. I want you to remember that the both of you will be loved by a stubborn, greedy woman.

When I loosely laced my fingers with his, he awkwardly responded back.

It looked like he believed me.

Emma: I’m still new to it, so there’s only so much I can do to help you. But I definitely will become a strong woman who can support you.

Alter!Keith: You’ve already done enough. Actually, I… Your words saved me.

The last time I saw Prince Keith, he looked childish and at peace.

--

(Mmm…I’m in…)

Instead of moonlight, it was sunlight that streamed into the room through the windows. I squinted at the brightness.

When I sat up and looked around, I found myself in Prince Keith’s room.

(Everything that just happened was all a dream)

(It was a pretty realistic dream…my heart still aches a bit)

Alter!Keith: Thought you weren’t in your own room. You were here instead.

Emma: Ah…Prince Keith.

(Oh yeah. I was waiting for him in his room as he finished his official duties)

Alter!Keith: …

(What’s wrong?)

When Prince Keith came into the room, he immediately made his way toward me and sat on the bed.

He awkwardly patted my head.

Alter!Keith: You look like you wanna cry.

Emma: Ah…Well, I was remembering the dream I had.

Alter!Keith: …That so. Then nothing happened to you.

Emma: Sorry for worrying you.

Alter!Keith: Not forgiven.

Emma: Eep!

After nipping my neck, he wrapped his arms around my waist.

The pain in my chest faded away as he patted my back, similar to the way one would when comforting a child.

(Back then and now, Prince Keith’s kindness never changed)

Emma: Um, so your official duties…?

Alter!Keith: I’m done with them.

Emma: You finished pretty early today.

Alter!Keith: More precisely, I put an end to it. Wanted to spend time with you. Since it’s your day off, there’s no point in my working that hard in the first place.

(You say that, but I know you do your job perfectly)

(...So you want to spend time with me?)

Emma: Mnn…

He tilted my chin and captured my lips with his.

It felt a surge of happiness with love from our repeated touches.

We stared at each other and when I kissed him, he pushed me down onto the bed.

(Wicked Prince Keith has things he wants to do for himself now)

(Use his time for himself, and not for the sake of someone else)

Warmth spread in my chest.

(I want this to keep being the norm for him)

With that wish, I hugged my lover tightly.

[carnelianly]

this one is heavy. be forewarned!

you married art all of those years ago. dedicated your life to him. you spend your days delicately balancing his schedule, leaving him enough time to rest and take breaks and heal his body after all of the intense practices and you set up his appointments and interviews, you research other players and their play styles and you give him advice on how to individually take down each opponent like every match is a fight for his life.

and he’s still fucking losing. you’ve had it with him and his excuses. what, he’s rusty coming off that nasty shoulder injury? too fucking bad, art. he shouldn’t be this pathetic. you do everything for him, and he doesn’t appreciate your efforts enough to try harder. you don’t care that he’s emotionally exhausted, that he’s starting to despise holding that racket.

when he comes home from practice, you play the role of the loving wife, asking him about his day and how he feels and what’s going on in art land. his shitty attitude is making you twitch with rage.

and then suddenly he’s pinned down against the floor, your hands on his shoulders keeping him in place (and his sensitive shoulder keeps him from trying to wiggle out from under you, he is incredibly fragile there.)

“you’re a fucking joke,” you growl, deeply, with a sense of hatred for art you never thought you could wield in your heart. he’s your husband, you chose to marry him. you’ve been soft and sweet with him, fond of his soft dirty blonde hair and freckles and his pale skin that looked golden in the sweetest lighting.

how could you hate him so deeply?

“uh— uh, baby? wha- what? why..—“ he stammers. it’s useless, you’re clearly not in the mood to talk. and you’re looking at him like you despise him. art wants to disappear, die even under your scrutiny, maybe his absence will make you feel better.

that night, you fuck him with every ounce of hatred in your body, strap on pounding into his ass until his body stops trying to push back onto you and just collapses on itself. he takes and takes and takes it until his vision starts to get blurry, and you fuck him like you’re trying to impale him, push your dildo in deep enough and hard enough to puncture his heart and stab it till to stops beating.

he moans helplessly, unable to put any coherent thoughts together. he’s nothing without you. he knows you hate him, but he’s nothing. he has to take this. he has to let your hurt him. he has to let you hate him, or else you’ll leave and he needs you. he has to take it.

he cums harder than he ever has, yet he’s never wanted to disappear more.

and then when you’re done, he collapses on the bed as you clean him up, just enough so he’s not messy with his own cum all over him.

he cries later, sobbing into the pillow as you stare down at him in utter resentment. he’s useless now. he can’t play well, can’t be a good husband, can’t satisfy you unless you get violent with him. to you, the pleasure never feels quite as good as it does when you’re violent.

your orgasms just feel better when you know art is miserable. and you’ll make him suffer for the rest of his life. he deserves it.

[nqueso-emergency]

I'm starting to believe that the bobs don't care about or love Eddie.

I have a sister who struggled with relationships, specially her last one and I love my sister, so we both talked and agreed that she needs to focus on her mental health and to love and treasure herself and find new hobbies and stuff.

I did not think or wanted her to jump into another relationship because how does this shit make any sense?.

She needed help not another disaster.

So with Eddie all I see them chanting about everywhere is gay Eddie gay Eddie, buddie canon buddie canon, are you guys dumb? do you ever sit down and think how stupid, shallow and pathetic you sound when you say that out loud? And to make it worse you're harassing people for it.

If my sister comes to me saying she found a new guy, god help me I'd beat her up, she's working on herself and she's the happiest I've ever seen her, enjoying her life, her workouts and her cats.

Never seen any of you wanting Eddie to get help and to get over his dead wife and to get his son back, and learn how to respect women, the guy is miserable he's a mess and all you want for him is to ride a d*ck.

If you're so desperate for two guys fucking eachother, please what do you think p*rn is for?.

Their main argument is always: bUt EdDiE iS a fiCtiOnAl cHaRacTeR iT dOesN't mAtTeR

To which I'd just like to say: so is Tommy fucking Kinard.

[redsrooftopprincess]

Assassin, Part 4

Warning: alcohol, graphic description of a bipolar crash and panic attack (or, at least how I experience them). Please take care of yourselves and don't read if you think it might trigger you. Much love to my fellow rapid-cyclers. 💚

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Stepping into the foyer, the soft darkness envelopes him. Holding the door gently, he makes a futile attempt to mitigate the screaming hinges, before giving up and just closing the damn thing.

He's tired. It feels like he's been running a marathon, and as far as the exhausted muscle in his chest is concerned, he has. It's been pounding like a god damn drum, nonstop, for hours.

If you asked him, he couldn't tell you a word that was said during the ceremony. You'd consumed his senses, filled them completely. He only looked away from you once, to fumble in his pocket for the ring, otherwise he couldn't stop his eyes from roaming over every inch of you. He caught your scent on the evening wind, and the spinning in his chest turned faster.

He tried to hold onto his thoughts, but they ripped from his grasp as they started to spiral. He clenched his jaw, he had to hold it together. He was the Best Man at his best friend's wedding and he had shit he was responsible for. But his mind has always been a bigger beast than he is.

Look at her.

Fuck, she's beautiful.

She's perfect.

Your kind of perfect.

This will never be you, you know.

Freak.

Unwanted.

If you were human, you'd be together already.

If you were human, you'd probably be engaged by now.

Why does she waste her time on you?

All you do is drag her down.

Chain her to the sewers when she should be living a real life.

With a real person.

Why?

Why do you do that?

Why are holding her prisoner just so you can feel better about yourself?

He couldn't hear past the rush in his ears, but he was vaguely aware that there was cheering around him. Then you'd turned to look at him, smiling like the sun, and the answer crashed over him like a violent wave.

You're a monster.

He stops just short of the sitting room, eyes closing and jaw clenching, as the memory floods him.

You'd turned to him and smiled and for one moment everything stopped. You were the only thing that existed in the universe. You *were* the universe.

That's when he hit the wall.

A sharp inhale was the only outward indication of the crash. But inside, he was screaming.

You're light streaked through his veins like fire along saltpetre. Burning away all pretense. No matter how much he wanted, no matter how much he needed, he would never be more than this. He could dance with you, sing with you, laugh and cry with you, but he could never ever love you.

Unacceptable.

Unworthy.

Unloved.

The guests in attendance began to disperse, while the bridal party stuck around for pictures. Through the smoke haze he could see very little, and could hear equally as well, though his body seemed to know what it was doing. He had no choice but to trust it.

His heart was pounding, and he's pretty sure at some point Casey thanked him, but his only thought by that point was to get away from everyone.

As soon as there was an opening, his body excused itself and made for the house. He was winded by the time he reached the side opposite the party, the panic attack threatening to consume him.

He put a hand on the wall, leaning against it with his head down, trying to breathe through the burning. His hand flexed and the antique wood siding of the house cracked under his fingers. He ripped his hand away, scalded.

You destroy everything you touch.

He'd stumbled backward, staring at the spiderweb cracks left behind by his fingers, a dry sob escaping him.

What hope does she have?

Eyes closed tight, he balled his hands into fists and pushed everything down. Get it together, he'd berated himself, you still have shit to do.

Three deep shuddering breaths and then he could breathe evenly. He locked the panic down tight and opened his eyes. It would hit him later, and twice as hard, but this was more important. Just a few more hours.

The reception was a blur of flashing light and discordant sound, and he avoided you for most of it. Or tried to, anyway. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape you.

Four separate times you had hunted him down and begged him to dance with you. And as the champagne flowed, and the night spun on, you became harder to avoid.

"Boo!" you said, peeking around the bar at him, grinning. Your cheeks were flushed pink from drink and dancing, and your scent wrapped around him with the night air. He tightened his jaw and tried not to breathe.

"Yoooouuuuuu've... been avoiding me," you accused, slinking around the wall, practically lying against it.

"Busy," he rumbled, starting to mix a drink for no one, and not looking at the siren calling to him.

"Oh come on, Red," you'd pouted, standing up from the wall, "The night's almost over and you haven't danced with me once." You walked over to him "Please? You've been working this whole time, come have some fun. I promise the reception won't fall apart without you." You teased, placing a hand on his forearm.

He froze the moment you touched him. He was shaking and he prayed to anyone who would listen that you wouldn't notice. The last thing he needed was you knowing that something was wrong. you cared about him too much, and your knee-jerk would be to fix it.

His hand tightened around the high ball and Mike popped his head around the corner like a god damn superhero, "Hey, they need you for the bouquet toss."

"Okay, one sec," you replied, and he disappeared again. "Please try and have *some* fun tonight?" You squeezed his arm gently, before letting go.

When you removed your hand his skin burned, and it wasn't until you were out of sight that he risked breathing again. He'd set down the glass, braced himself on the bar, and closed his eyes so he didn't have to see the cracks in the glass where he'd been gripping it too hard. He drew a deep breath.

He wasn't going to make it.

Snatching the bottle and leaving the broken glass, he made for the house. He skirted the perimeter of the reception, trying to be as inconspicuous as a 6'5, 350lb, bipedal turtle dressed in a tux can be.

He heard the countdown and made the mistake of looking over as April's bouquet flew through the air. You weren't even trying, you were talking, but, as if the Gods were punishing him, it had landed in your hands anyway, and he felt his pounding heart clench.

He watched as one of the other guests came up to you and placed a very human hand on your arm, presumably asking you to dance.

It will never be you.

He turned and continued toward the house until he heard familiar clumsy footsteps coming up the hill behind him.

"Hey, where's the fire, Red? Oops!" You'd said, giggling as you nearly tripped.

Your voice pierced him like an arrow, pinning him in place. He tried to take a deep breath as quietly as he could, but you've always been too good at reading him and asked if he was okay.

You'd persisted when he tried to brush you off, and he'd come up with some excuse. The longer you stayed there with him, the faster his resolve was crumbling, and he didn't want to fall apart in front of you. This was not your problem, and there was no point in runining your night, or your friendship.

He attempted to sidestep you, and you'd brushed against his arm. Your touch seared him, and reflex caught your wrist in his hand. For the first time in hours he met your gaze.

Disgusting.

Unworthy.

Why? Why make him this way? Why give him the ability to fall in love at all if he wasn't allowed to? What kind of cruel bastard...

Your wrist flexed in his hand and you looked up at him with an expression that said, I'm here. Whatever it is, I'm here. It's a familiar look, and it brought him back to himself. You're always the one he runs to. Now he was running away.

He dropped your hand, muttering an apology and fled without another word, leaving you behind.

Heart hammering in his chest, he nearly stumbled with the force of it. He made it to the other side of the house and collapsed, a wave crashing over him. He couldn't breathe. He was drowning, pulling in air, and getting nothing except dizzy.

On his knees, hands pressed to the ground beneath, it felt like his shell was crushing him. He maneuvered himself to sitting on the cold slate tiles, pulling his knees up to his chest.

There were no more words inside his head, only screaming, and he squeezed his eyes shut, and gripped his head tight, begging for it to stop. Some vague part of him was aware that he was crying, but any thoughts were swept up into the vortex inside of him.

The panic attack held him, shackled to his faults, for seventeen minutes, but it could have been a year. By the time he finally felt it begin to subside, he was exhausted and trembling.

He'd retrieved the bottle of whiskey that had rolled under the nearby bench, and, with great effort, managed to pull himself onto it. He'd held onto the bench to steady himself, before opening the bottle and drinking nearly half of it.

He remained there until his father found him.

He takes another deep breath, exhaustion seated heavy, like a stone in his chest, and rests a hand on the wall beside him. He needs sleep. He continues to make his way toward his room at the back of the house, passing by the open archway to the sitting room.

Where he finds you.

...

Less a lover, more a fighter

But I'm tired of fighting to hold on

Got too many scars to hide them

So it's easier being on my own

But you

Shoot first, draw blood, before I know

Yeah you

One shot, one touch, and I let go

How did this happen?

My walls were up and

You moved without a sound

Never imagined, like an assassin

One look to me down

Assassin - Sultan + Shepherd

...

Tag List:

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll

[moonsceptre]

What is your opinion on the Beetlejuice 2 Dream Theory?

This theory?

My opinion is that it's very likely to be true. I walked away from the cinema extremely happy with all of the shippy moments—so happy I hadn't even considered theorising anything yet, however my first thought about the ending was, So it was all Lydia's dream?

I read through the post and was blown away by how much sense it made, but I think it helped push me to believe it when my friend sent me this

My friend is not interested in theorising or shipping, and has no connection to the BJ fandom, he's just a horror fan. Yet his interpretation of the movie's ending was a summarised version of the whole dream theory. Isn't it far more romantic to imagine Lydia having spent her life with Betelgeuse, and he's indulging her with a dream of her own child? Considering they both have a 'psychic connection', I'm not convinced that Lydia hasn't been thinking about BJ just as much as he's been thinking about her.

This user pointed out both of Betelgeuse's love songs are by artists named Richard, conveniently the name of Lydia's previous partner. The same partner who was described as a horror fan that loved playing pranks, and dressed as a Beetlejuice lookalike for Halloween.

Looks like Beetlejuice, acts like Beetlejuice—either Lydia is equally obsessed, or it's BJ projecting himself onto Lydia's human lover within the dream. Watching the movie with new eyes, I noticed in the "Later, fucker" scene that BJ is sitting in the same place Richard sat while working at the border control. "Astrid" herself has a name related to the celestial bodies, much like "Betelgeuse". You can either take this as a romantic parallel, or Tim is trying to show us that Richard's creation is based on Lydia's fixation with Beetlejuice.

Dream sequences often use characters to represent something within the dreamer's psyche. It's like an abstract analysis of the way that character thinks and feels. Astrid's sequence within the dream shows Lydia's material desires—it confirms everything was based off of what Lydia wanted, which included getting married to a 'monster' (in the sequence of events, Astrid marries a guy dressed as a vampire), and then gives birth to the Beetlebaby. I know in the first movie there is a reference to the horror movie "The Fly", so I imagine this was too.

Did anyone notice the dream sequence watching Astrid didn't actually have a clear indication for when it began? It transitioned from the movie as if everything was a dream right from the start.

Let's not forget BJ straight up looking into the camera and saying "I love a good dream sequence". Lol.

My other reasoning for believing the dream theory is what Winona said about Lydia. Winona and Tim are close friends. Winona pitched the idea of having Betelgeuse and Lydia be the endgame ship in her words, and she happily took part in this movie. If Tim had rejected the idea, why would Winona reprise her role for a story she didn't agree with? Winona knows that Lydia is Tim's self insert (Tim has said many times he relates the most to Lydia), so why would Tim approve of all the shippy moments if he opposed Winona's pitch? No one knows Lydia like him!

Winona said in this interview that she hadn't imagined Lydia ever becoming a mother, but that after a while it started to make sense. She does not elaborate on that, but explains her idea for Lydia was that she would end up a spinster in the attic. If you read the dream theory, it highlights how the movie begins with Lydia in the attic, and then transitions to Lydia's TV show, but the background is still the attic. I found the whole film very dreamlike in this way, and I think the fact that Tim has said Wizard of Oz (a movie where the girl wakes up after a dream, in which those she knew acted as characters within the sequence) is one of his favourite movies helps to put it into effect.

And finally...

It's Lydia Deetz. Lydia loves the strange and unusual.. do you really think she wasn't curious enough to contact Beej again?

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

< kiss it better. >

...

(i had an urge, or rather the need to draw them kissing. the sheer fact, that i didn’t ever draw anyone kissing before wasn’t enough to stop me. in the same way, jonathan’s lack of experience with kissing wouldn’t have stopped him from trying to lock lips with the bat. 

in this timeline, jonathan clearly already knows how to kiss bruce. must have done it enough times to get comfy with being affectionate in less … pushy ways. he also pretty familiar with small signs, that the bat doesn’t do all that well. some esp messed up / complicated cases would keep bruce sustained on little sleep an’ barely any time out of his suit. he shaves less frequently bc of it too. which is like the first sign, that he doesn’t pay a lot of attention to his daily habits. besides alfred, jonathan is the only other person, who notices those things an’ scolds the bat for it. which is ironic bc crane himself tends to huddle up inside some basement without a shower, much sleep or proper food for days, when he’s working on whatever. in a way, he’s even worse than bruce in that sense. but he doesn’t consider it a problem, when it’s him. but when it’s batman, now, that’s troublesome. an’ unlike bruce, who can literally haul him out an’ shove him into a bath *always have a vivid imagery of arkhamverse scarebat being in this situation* or put food in front of him an’ stand over jon till he eats it. jonathan has to be more ‘sly’ about his own methods. he prefers to egg the bat on, an’ kinda point out things until bruce might want to go an’ do smth just to prove him wrong lol. but he also attempts to coze the bat up with affection too. he’s not super graceful about it. but it’s the try that counts. an' he's hella smug about it, when he's successful, which is like almost always. really makes jon feel good about his knowledge of batman's inner workings.

meanwhile, i think, that bruce is often low-key surprised, when crane goes out of his way to be openly gentle, nearly consolatory with him. rather, then doing backwards things or weird gestures, that showing said gentle fondness. bruce in general is kinda reversed, when it comes to affection, even if he's better at giving it vs crane. but that's prob why the change manages to catch him off guard. his influence on jonathan's show itself in odd ways. i feel like jon is absolutely clueless about those things in the beginning. when he does them, he then acts very pissy an' embarrassed. but overtime, it gets less intense. he’s even let’s bruce lift his mask up his nose, after some time too. until that he acts all cagey about it. still very much self-conscious about his face. he can do it himself from time to time, but bruce is pretty much the only other person, he allows to do it at all. the complexity of their brain process, when it comes to their mask is smth else. they still cannot be normal about being just one single dude in the mask or without it lol.

anyways, jon can still be well, jon. he's weird an' love watching bruce's reactions on different things, bc he's still a scientist. and' professor of psychology. an' the scarecrow. therefore some kisses start with a small lick or a peck. another thing for bruce to ponder on. an' think how to respond in kind.

so yeps. just them kissing. it's one of those things that i wanna see an' think about [dreamily kicks legs] the end goal to make BTAS an' akrhamverse scarebat share a kiss as well.)

[ravensvirginity]

Titans #15 Review

Oh my god. Where do I even begin.

To start with my one and only positive: the art is gorgeous. Lucas Meyer is the best artist the Titans have had in ages, and his new Raven design really delivered. I'm so sad that it appears that the artist who'll be taking over for him in #16 is undoing his design changes, I think it's a massive shame. I did appreciate the detail of Raven's white cloak design having rings on her index fingers, but it feels a little pointless without the lore of Azar's rings to back it up.

Now, the negatives: literally everything else about this comic. This comic fails to deliver on an eight issue arc in any kind of satisfying way, has a bizarre and out of character tone, and severely misunderstands the lore of its main villain. They literally defeated Trigon with the power of friendship. Maybe that could work in Teen Titans Go, but in a main timeline DC comic? What?

First, the demon Raven stuff. Gar saying that demon Raven and regular Raven aren't two different people--yeah, obviously. The severe degree of separation between demon Raven and regular Raven has been one of the big issues of this arc, and this conclusion is as unsatisfying as the rest of it. Raven and her demon side being able to talk face to face isn't new, but them being two separate people with separate physical bodies who can operate completely independently of each other--while there is some precident for this, to me it's a very strange writing choice and misses the point of a demon Raven arc.

The original idea of Raven and her demon side was that her demon side is her. It's all the worst instincts she inherited from Trigon locked up and carefully controlled. When Trigon takes control of her and turns her into her demon form, everything she's repressed, both good and bad, is released. Raven still having a soft spot for the Titans in her demon form makes sense; she's still Raven, just corrupted by Trigon into something she isn't. Raven deciding to stop being evil (not that she even really was) and going back to normal from one brief conversation with her teammate does not, and is really anticlimactic.

It's just such a waste of the story's potential. If you don't want to commit to Raven being the villain of the story, don't do a demon Raven arc! It's possible to do a Trigon story without Raven being evil, I don't get why they didn't just do that. None of the drama with Raven being evil was particularly well executed, and all it seemed to do was drag the comic on longer and longer with nothing actually happening, because they were unwilling to make Raven actually do anything villanous.

All that pales in comparison to how they defeated Trigon. I don't think I've ever seen such blatant disregard for previous canon. As Raven, powered up by the other Titans, fights Trigon, Gar narrates as follows:

"I doubt Trigon has ever been in a fight. An actual fight. With someone his own size and power level. Never had to face someone like Nightwing one-on-one. Never tried to stand while being pinned by the power of Donna Troy's will. Never been blasted... with a giant-sized Apokoliptian blast from Cyborg. And never, ever... felt the full force of a Tamaranean hit powered by the stars."

WHAT?

This comic canonically takes place in the same timeline as the New Teen Titans. There are many homages to the New Teen Titans. It has been made very clear that the team started as the New Teen Titans, and then after many, many years of crazy comic book history the team reformed as the Titans of this run.

The first ever Trigon arc that introduces him and Raven as characters takes place in the first six issues of the New Teen Titans, and culminates in Trigon being defeated by the Titans and thrown into an interdimensional prison. I can't stress this enough: literally every single one of the things Gar said have never happened to Trigon happen in that fight. Donna uses her lasso to dampen Trigon's will, in combination with Raven and Arella's empathic abilities. Wally rips a hole through the fabric of reality to throw Trigon into, and Kory and Vic connect their powers to amplify their blasts to throw Trigon into the interdimensional rift. The whole thing is coordinated and managed by Dick Grayson (who was still Robin at the time).

Gar was there when all this happened. There is no reason for him to not know that this happened. The only explanation is Tom Taylor doesn't know, or he doesn't care. This would be disappointing for any comic book run, but it leaves an especially sour taste in my mouth for this to happen in a run that's so built on NTT homages. It's clear that the writing could not care less about the comic it was inspired by.

And then Garth causes Trigon to have a heart attack. Okay, that was just stupid. Admittedly, I did think the page of Raven stabbing Trigon was cool (again, the art is really the only saving grace here), but her saying "Fuck you, Dad"? Seriously? An ongoing problem in this run has been the dialog feeling janky and too much like lines from a generic superhero movie, and this line embodies that very well. I'm not opposed to swearing in comic books, but to me, this is not the right time for it. It doesn't fit the moment, and I think it's quite out of character for Raven, even if the sentiment behind it isn't.

And then Trigon isn't even dead? What does "Demons don't die. They just fade away." even mean?? Is he dead or not? Will he come back tomorrow or in a thousand years? It's such a strange, confusing letdown of an ending.

I didn't have high hopes for this issue, but it was somehow worse than I could ever have imagined. I'm so glad that this run is getting a new writer. Here's hoping that the coming issues will actually feel like a team book, and that the decades of lore and characterization of these beloved characters will actually be considered during writing.

[lesbikaiser]

lkahgilf heyyyy, was wondering if you could write smth kinda freaky with shidou and a trans guy reader ? its ok if not !! praise kink would be nice :) but also feel free to like go wild with it idk i just need more trans rep in bllk fics

it's boypussy thursday are you boypussying 🫵🏻

im still recovering from my last shidou post so im sorry if this is too short :( also i took so long to post it omg but i hope you like it just as much as ive enjoyed writing ><

first time im giving a pussy pronouns and it's he/him im so happy omg!

IN MY HEAD shidou would be delighted if he ever found out about the term 'boypussy' and would overuse it and be like dead serious about it

fem aligned people please dni >< transboys and nbs you're welcome!

it's late. late as in a few hours past midnight late. the tiny rocks on the sidewalk you find yourself kneeling on slightly hurt your covered knees, the jeans of your pants doing little to protect your skin from the harsh ground – however, you can't really mind it when the feeling of shidou's dick stretching your throat fills up your senses.

the street is deserted, not a single soul there besides you and your boyfriend and you're grateful for that, because he's shamelessly moaning the loudest he can, the sounds echoing through the darkness and his skin glowing under the poor lighting the lampposts provide.

there are tears pooling in your eyes as you try to breathe through your nose, spit running down your chin and staining your loose shirt when he starts to move his hips, one of his hands resting on your nape as the other digs on your shoulder blade to keep you right where you're.

"such a dirty boy, ain't ya?" he teases, though you know when coming from him, it's most likely to be a praise. "sucking my dick out here, where anyone could see."

you can't stop a whimper from vibrating through his shaft, your tongue rubbing against his slit to savor the taste of his pre-cum, your eyes trained on his not missing when his lips part slightly and he throws his head back, yet another needy moan gracing your ears. you can see the beads of sweat dripping down his neck and disappearing on his collar, he looks so hot like this it makes your inner thighs slippery with arousal, your heavy jeans gluing to them as well as your underwear to your core.

your hands hold onto his toned thighs as he keeps face-fucking you, barely taking his dick out of your mouth before thrusting back, hitting the back of your throat and forcing you to swallow more and more of him, gagging sounds strangled in your chest as you let him use you as he pleases. you know he's close, the feeling of his pulsating veins rubbing against your tongue and the inside of your cheeks giving it away, his thrusts growing more erratic and his pace getting lazy, his teeth sinking on his lower lip when he feels you sucking harder, eager to have his cum filling your mouth.

"–ah, doing so well f'me, such a pretty fuckin' boy with his mouth full of my cock, gonna cum so hard for you– take it like a good boy, yeah?" he's babbling at this point, a whine getting caught on his chest when he feels you cupping his heavy balls, massaging them softly and urging him to come, and so he does.

the hand on your nape keeps you there when he shoves his pelvis onto your face, pubes touching your nose as long, thick ropes of cum spill from his slit, you can barely taste it as you try to swallow everything, some inevitably leaking from the corner of your lips. when he pulls away, you're a mess, spit and cum running down your chin, cheeks stained by dried tears and swollen lips slightly parted as you pant, coughing a little and wincing at the soreness of your throat, your voice surely raspy.

shidou is panting almost as much as you, thumb coming to wipe the fluids off your chin only to shove it into your mouth, your lips wrapping so prettily around his finger it makes his dick twitches, his free hand grabbing your arm to pull you up. there's a string of saliva connecting his thumb to your shiny, swollen lips when he pulls it out, though not for too long before he's fumbling with the button on your pants to push them down your legs, your hands immediately coming to grab his as you squeal his name; he must've gone insane.

however, your efforts do nothing to stop him, he's still shoving one finger inside your boxers and running it along your soaked folds, whistling when he feels you drooling onto his palm.

"c'mon, im sure this boypussy of yours can't wait to have my dick fucking him here on the outside."

[truthflower19]

Is funny how this fandom seems to forget SJM is a little bit of a repetitive writer. She tends to do similar things in all her books. She literally has killed all her MC to then magically bring them back to life. All her main heroines have not being endgame with their “first” love and they all end up with their mates (even tho is supposed to be uncommon to find a mate)

So when people complain about elriels being selfish about shipping vassien because Lulu is going to be alone if Vassa dies I honestly just laugh. You are telling me in all those reread u did to tried to justify your crackship you didn’t get the memo? Vassa can easily be transformed or changed into an immortal… literally 3 sisters were transform to fae in the same book and you think SJM would not find some magical predictable way to make her immortal so she can be with lulu? Don’t even get me started on the pelvis theory she changed Feyre and Nesta but Elain being also changed didn’t cross ur mind (even tho the whole thing around that is weird/disgusting), or elriel being real mates surprising antis when Sarah has already done a fake mating bond in other series

Somehow all that doesn’t cross antis minds but Gwynriel and Az being secret mate does? That they both know they are mates but are keeping it a secret like for real? when in the entire multiverse have to ever read a male acting so uninterested to his mate? Me personally never so is funny like this makes total sense in their brains but the possibility of Vassien sounds like blasphemy to them.

[gatorbites-imagines]

In that case… Could I please request Killer Croc/Waylon Jones with a supringly really attractive boyfriend (like a male version Jessica Rabbit level hot, like it dosen’t even make sense for someone to be that hot) who no one understand how Waylon pulled. Waylon’s boyfriend is very sultry and alluring.

And Waylon roughly breeds his boyfriend doggy style 😇.

Thank u :)

Waylon Jones x Male reader

Headcanons

Guten Abend squad, how is everyone doing? Classes are still running at a max level, and I’m starting to think this is just how it goes. So, time to chillax with some Waylon.

Not as smutty as I would have wanted, but this honestly just built a life of its own and started running.

We see in the comics, or at least in one run, that Waylon does have game and knows how to pull somebody very attractive, so its not too surprising so could pull you. That’s what you think at least, since he’s a great guy, to you.

I imagine you two met after he left the circus, maybe you guys even left together. With Waylon being the circus’s “freakshow” and you only being there as eye candy to sell tickets. With you both being reduced to nothing but your looks, you two find solidarity with each other, and fall in love.

No one ever really took your love seriously back then, just thinking you were using Waylon for protection, since someone as pretty as you couldn’t be safe anywhere.

Insert the “seriously, what do you see in that guy?” “he makes me laugh” scene.

If we go with the verse where Waylon was in Halys circus, then the only ones that seemed to have some version of acceptance of your love was the Grayson’s. it was one of the reasons you two left the circus, having a strong feeling of what had truly happened to them and who caused it.

After leaving the circus, you couldn’t live in the sewers like Waylon. This meant you got an apartment, in the beginning in crime alley since it was cheapest.

You may have been so beautiful it would drive people mad, but you also had a head on your shoulders. So, in the end you set up a legitimate business, maybe you even become something akin to a designer. Mainly because your lover is so big, there’s no other way to get him clothes.

And maybe during your time in crime alley, you stumble upon a scrawny kid who, though he may act tough, still has a light in him. And maybe that kid ends up being batman’s second robin, who remembers how kind you were to him and everyone around you, so he doesn’t go as hard against Waylon.

The past you have with the Grayson’s also means that Dick takes it easier on Waylon, and they even settle down and talk at times. You’ll regularly find the two former robins hanging around your art studio, even years later when they aren’t robin anymore.

Your lover goes to Arkham, a lot. But you never hate him or even argue with him. You’ll just pull up to Arkham in your most beautiful outfit during visitors’ hours and hold Waylon’s hand as you two act like a new married couple, even if it’s been twenty at this point.

And it may have been twenty years, but you just seem to have become more handsome with age, aging like fine expensive wine. You don’t become shrewd or corrupted by the world around you, instead you stay kind and patient. You’re still in Gotham though, so you’ll turn violent if you have too.

No one really believes that Waylon purrs, until you show up and he becomes as meek as a kitten, ready to roll in your manicured hand.

Its no secret that you, one of the most famous designers around, and Killer Croc, are together. But its just such a normal part of everyday life now, that no one really questions it. your works never been dirty, you help those around you, and lift up poor and struggling artists whenever you can. So, what if your husband is tearing up the road trying to bite Batman to bits.

Theres a viral video in Gotham of you stepping out during one of Waylon’s rampages, and just scolding him, wagging a finger in his face and still looking so unbelievably gorgeous as you do so.

And yes, of course your design trademark is crocodile scales, or anything along those lines. You’ll never use real crocodile skin, but you do use the print or shape.

After all this time, people don’t fear Waylon as much as they probably should, all thanks to you. Its kinda hard to fear a guy when you know his boyfriend is unofficially titled the most beautiful man in Gotham, who’s also as giving and kind as the Waynes, whilst being more involved in the nitty gritty, since you still live in Crime Alley.

Someone has threatened Waylon with telling on him to you at least once too, which doesn’t stop him, but it does cause him to freeze and get an “oh shit” expression, long enough for people to run to safety.

Being one of the most skilled fashionistas around also means you have met the Waynes on multiple occasions.

The shared past with Dick and the circus, and Jason, though you don’t remember him as vividly, means you get called on more than most.

As you measure them out and start making designs, conversations flow, and Damian most likely ends up bluntly just asking you why in the world you decided to pair up with Killer Croc of all people.

You correct him in your answer, referring to your husband as Waylon, and then you just start waxing the poetics. Of your shared past, of the deep unshakable love you both share, and how under all his struggles, Waylon truly is an amazing man.

You’ve never confirmed that Dick was Robin, even though it was very obvious. Its not your place to judge how he, or his family, deal with their trauma or whatever they have going on. Your lover swims through the sewers, you can’t really say anything.

A few passing comments are made though, obviously. You tell the Waynes to “take it easy next time they see Waylon, wont you?” with one of your heart shaking winks before you saunter out, ready to start putting together your latest design.

Its kind of an accepted, not really a secret, secret. Its never put into words, and they know that you know, and you know that they know you know. Nothing ends up happening with it though, outside of you making some jokes and judging their hero outfits.

With age you’ve become less sultry and alluring, at least in the way the public can point out as obviously as before. You have simply mastered your field, and know just how to play people around you if you need too.

Though, you didn’t really learn to master it for the public. It’s mainly just for Waylon, so you like to see how his nostrils flare, and when he starts chuffing in the back of his throat when you saunter around in nothing but a silk robe.

The bats know that the first place Waylon goes when he gets out of Arkham is to you. But…they also all know to wait at least a day or two before they come for him. To allow you to spend some time together, but also because most of them have caught of glimpse of you… reunions…

Bruce wont admit it, but he’s at least impressed with you being able to take two of them at the same time, even after all these years. He might note down your many skills somewhere… just in case.

Reunions with Waylon are typically a hot and steamy affair. Or well, as hot and steamy as a guy whose as cold as a reptile can get. There are days where either of you may not be up for it, and then its just cuddles and having some nice domestic time together before he’s taken back to Arkham again.

But when it does get hot, then you are very happy you own the entire building. Waylon can get quite loud, but never as loud as he still makes you even after all these years.

Sure, you’ve learned to handle it more after all this time, but it still makes you squeal when Waylon fits both his shafts inside you at the same time, lifting and moving you around like a doll.

Where Waylon may be rough and violent in every other part of his life, Waylon is slower and much more careful in the bedroom. He doesn’t want to lose his senses and hurt you on accident. You have some very faded bite and claw scars on your body, back from when you first got together, and Waylon likes to remind himself of that.

Sometimes you do want him to be rougher about it, so you pull all the skills you’ve gained over the years. And Waylon is but a man, even with the scales and all, so he can’t resist you for very long. It always ends up with you writhing, face in the pillow that’s stained with your tears and drool or pleasure, as Waylon growls and snarls behind you, his big, clawed hands moving you back and forth with ease.

He always feels a bit guilty about it afterwards, especially seeing how much you leak all over the sheets. Expect to find yourself being pampered and loved on for the next couple of days. Even the bats seem to leave you to it, most likely having heard your cries. You get a feeling the people in the next building heard them too. But you honestly don’t care anymore.

You may have Waylon, and many others, wrapped around your finger, but so does Waylon with you. And neither of you really seem to mind anymore.

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

why not me?

pair: Percy Jackson x reader

summary: Percy is dating Annabeth but y/n(she/her) has been Percy's only best friend, besides Grover, and she's had a crush on him for years now, even before they knew he was a demigod

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You sit at the edge of the campfire, your knees pulled to your chest as you watch Percy and Annabeth laugh across from you. Grover's somewhere to your left, probably foraging for more marshmallows, but you’re too focused on them to care.

Percy’s smile is bright, his sea-green eyes crinkling at the corners, and every laugh he gives sends a pang through your chest. You’ve known him for years—long before either of you even knew what a demigod was. Before the monsters, the quests, the gods. When he was just Percy, your best friend who lived down the street, the one you could always count on.

Now he has Annabeth, and the "what ifs" and "why not me?" consume you every day.

You were there before all this started. The thought races through your mind as you absently twirl a blade of grass between your fingers. You knew him when he couldn’t even pass math, when his biggest worry was keeping his ADHD in check during class, when you two would spend hours at the park just talking. You were the one who stuck by him when the world didn’t make sense, but now, sitting across from him, you feel like a background character in your own life.

Annabeth is perfect, you think, your gaze flickering to her. Of course she is. Daughter of Athena. Smart, brave, beautiful. You can’t compete with that. You’ve tried to stop comparing yourself to her, but it’s impossible. Every time you see them together, you can’t help but notice how effortless it is for her. The way she fits into Percy’s life like she’s always belonged there. The way she’s everything you’re not.

You glance down at your hands. What did she have that you didn’t? She was brilliant. Fearless. Meanwhile, you’re just... you. Ordinary, human, flawed in all the ways Annabeth is perfect. You don’t have godly parents, you don’t have that kind of courage. No matter how hard you try, you’ll always feel like you’re not enough.

“Hey, Y/N, you good?”

Percy's voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you look up to find his concerned eyes on you. Your heart skips a beat at the way he’s looking at you, but it also aches because he’s not really seeing you. Not in the way you want him to.

You force a smile, the same one you’ve been using for years now. “Yeah, of course. Just tired.”

Annabeth throws you a glance, and for a moment, you wonder if she can tell. You’ve gotten good at pretending—pretending you’re happy for them, pretending it doesn’t hurt every time you see them hold hands, pretending you don’t lie awake at night asking yourself why you weren’t enough.

Percy gives you a soft grin, one that you’ve seen a million times before but never get tired of. "You sure? You’ve been quiet tonight."

Quiet. Right. You’ve been biting your tongue so hard lately it’s a wonder you can still speak around him. You nod, your throat tight. “I’m fine, Percy. Really.”

He shrugs, seemingly satisfied, before turning his attention back to Annabeth. And just like that, the moment is gone. You’re invisible again.

As you watch them talk, your mind drifts to all the times you’ve wondered if things would’ve been different if you’d just spoken up sooner. If you’d told Percy how you felt before he and Annabeth got together, would he have seen you then? Would he have realized that you were always the one who stood by his side, that you loved him long before he was the son of Poseidon, long before any of this?

Or maybe you were just never meant to be more than the best friend. Maybe that’s your role, and you were foolish to think you could ever be anything else.

You hear Annabeth laugh at something Percy says, and it twists in your gut like a knife. She doesn’t even have to try, does she? Everything comes naturally to her—the love, the adventure, the destiny. And here you are, desperately trying to keep your smile intact, trying not to let the cracks show.

Why not me? The question echoes in your head again, louder this time. What does she have that I don’t?

You hate that you’re thinking this way. Annabeth doesn’t deserve your jealousy—she’s never been anything but kind to you. She’s never treated you like you were lesser, but that’s how you feel, anyway. Less than her. Less than what Percy deserves.

You swallow the bitterness building in your chest and stand up abruptly. “I think I’m gonna head to bed,” you say, keeping your voice as steady as you can.

Grover has finally returned with the marshmallows, and he offers you a confused look, his hand halfway to the fire. “But we haven’t even started roasting yet!”

You force a smile. “I’m just really tired. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Percy frowns again, but he doesn’t press. “Alright. Night, Y/N.”

“Goodnight.” You turn away quickly, before the tears in your eyes can betray you.

As you walk toward your cabin, the weight of it all crushes down on you. The laughter behind you fades, but the pain doesn’t. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the flood of emotions that’s threatening to spill over.

You wonder how long you’ll be able to keep pretending, how long you can keep wearing this mask. How long before Percy realizes the truth?

But then again, maybe he never will. Maybe you’ll spend the rest of your life standing in the shadows, loving him from a distance, wishing things were different.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Under the Glow of Candlelight

Summary: At your usual best friend sleepovers, you started talking about your unsatisfying exes, one thing leads to another. And soon you’re on top of your best friend, under the glow of candle lights. 

Oneshot

Smut, PW?P, Fluff?, Best friends to *official* lovers

If you are a minor, please do not read/engage with this post. This is an 18+ work. 

Warnings: Unprotected Sex (pls practice safe sex), Soft dom! Juyeon, Cowgirl position, Body Worship, Marking (m! & f! receiving), Slight Possessiveness, Tit-sucking & fondling (f! receiving), Praise, One (1) ass smack (f! receiving), Creampie, Candles lit and glowing (no candle/temperature/wax play), Talking about previous partners & positions, Mentions of prev. talks about masturbation, *Aftercare*, Use of pet names: Princess, Baby, and Sweetheart *And if I missed any pls lmk!*

Word Count: 2,739

Juyeon X Fem!Reader 

Again, if you are a minor, please do not read/engage with this post. This is an 18+ work. 

------

Juyeon, above all, was your best friend, so telling him exactly how you liked to be fucked didn’t seem out of the blue. After all, the two of you had talked about how you masturbated before. Why would this be any different? “Yeah, remember my last boyfriend?” He hums, “Yeah, he was kind of boring.” You groan, sitting upside down and looking up at the ceiling, “And god, he was boring in bed too.” He lets out a soft laugh, as you tell him, finally looking over at him, “I just like it when someone’s rougher and can take me like they own me y’know?” He nods, “Yeah, rougher is more fun. But you? Of all people- Want someone to act like they own you?” You laugh, “It’s kind of funny when you put it that way. But I just want them to be in charge.” His mouth is ajar as he nods, “That makes more sense.” You hum, and he asks, “Then what’s your favorite position?” You grin, “Guess.” And you watch as he thinks before he answers, “I don’t know, cowgirl?” You gasp, “How’d you know?” He shrugs, “I’ve known you since we were little. You always like to look like you’re in charge… And well, with you saying you want someone to actually be in charge… It just made sense.” You laugh, “Well, what about you?” He shrugs, “I think you already know…” You gasp, “No way…” His smile turns into a smirk as he does, “You know I’m a sucker for being underneath. You get so much more access that way… I can control the pace and suck on some pretty tits? Princess, that’s the dream…” You laugh, “I can’t believe we like the same position for different reasons.” He tilts his head at you, “You can’t?” 

You shrug, finally flipping to be right-side up on his couch, “I don’t know, I always pictured you as an ass guy so-” He shakes his head as he shoves your shoulder, and you fall over teasingly before getting back up, “I am. But that’s why it’s one of the best positions. I get to have a handful of it as I take control.” You let out an ‘ahh’ as it makes sense to you. And you ask, “What was your last girlfriend like… What was her name? Jen? Jennet?” “You mean Jeanie?” You nod, and he groans, “Ugh, she only liked me to hit it from the back, and it had to be in total darkness… And as much as that’s nice… I love seeing someone come undone for me.” You tilt your head, “You like to fuck with the overhead lights on, or?” He shrugs, “At least candles…” You push his shoulder, “Ohh, so romantic.” He rolls his eyes, “What? A little romance is boring for you?” And you shrug, fiddling with your pajama shorts, “Never had the opportunity to fuck with them lit.” He shakes his head, “You don’t fuck with candles on-” “Don’t you dare-” “You make love with them lit.” You groan, “Ugh… you had to say that.” He looks at you confused, “Have you never made love either?” You shrug, “I guess I’ve come close to it?” He looks at you weirdly, “What do you mean you’ve come close? I thought you loved that one girl.” You sigh, “I did- but like- I don’t know? I don’t think I’ve ever genuinely had sex to make love. It’s always been with the goal of getting off- nothing else.” Juyeon shakes his head, “Now who’s the boring one, baby?” You roll your eyes, “I was shedding my heart to you, and here you are-” He cuts you off, “Well, have you ever wanted to?” You think back to all your exes, “Well, yeah, I guess? I don’t know, I never really thought about it...” 

He squints at you, “Really?” You shrug and ask him, “Well, have you ever made love?” He hums, running his hand through his hair, “Most of the time. You know I’m a bit slower, and it takes me some time to catch on, right?” You nod, and he continues, “I take my time figuring out what makes them tick and it’s just a lot more intimate feeling than fucking just to get off, you know?” You sigh, “I wish I did…” And he hums, “Well, what if you could?” You look over at him, “How so?” He shrugs, “We could.” You give him an odd look, “I don’t know if we should. It’s one thing to fuck your friends. But to make love with them?” He looks into your eyes as you continue, “Isn’t that drawing the line? Aren’t you supposed to only do that with people you love?” He shrugs, “I love you a lot, doesn’t that count?” You look at him, “I mean... I love you too, but I don’t know if we should make love. Because wouldn’t that make us more than we are?” He shrugs, “I don’t know, only one way to find out though… Of course, if you want to, it's on the table. If not, we can forget it and just continue talking about our unsatisfying exes.” You hum and think about it. On one hand, you could be ruining a friendship you’ve cherished for years. On the other hand, you could be starting a new forever with him. And you kind of like that thought. 

So, you shrug, “Why not?” He smiles as he goes, “Let’s go to my room.” You nod, and he leads you down the hall to his room. He opens the door, lets you in, and gestures for you to sit on his bed. “One second.” You get comfy laying there watching him find his lighter and arrange the candles in his room before lighting them one at a time. He puts the lighter down before turning off the overhead light, and the candles cast a soft amber glow over the room, “Woah…” He smiles, “Beautiful, right?” You hum in agreement and whisper as he walks towards you, “I don’t know how anyone would pass this up.” He shrugs, unsure as to why, either. As he crawls over you, he asks, “Can I kiss you?” You nod, and he leans over you and gives you a second to back away and back out before he kisses you. 

You sigh when he pulls away. It finally feels like the pieces are coming together. His hand slowly moves up your shirt, and you ask, “Are we really going to do this?” He looks into your eyes, “Not if you don’t want to.” You shake your head, “No, that’s not what I meant. I just- I love you, and I don’t know if that will change.” He kisses your forehead, “If it helps you any, it won’t make me love you any less.” You look into his eyes, “It does.” “Will you love me any less?” You shake your head, and he smiles, “Then the only thing that could change is?” You hum, wondering what he’s about to say, “We find we like having sex together, and we fall deeper for each other.” You shrug as you agree, “Yeah, I guess so.” He asks, “Will you love me any less if I don’t fuck you good?” You laugh, “Nah, I just won’t ever have sex with you again. Will you feel the same?” He smiles, “Yeah.” You nod, “Okay.” “Then it’s settled.” He pulls you in for another kiss, and you let yourself fully enjoy it. 

He pushes your shirt to the side to leave kisses along your collarbone before slowly dragging your shirt up and over your head. He smiles as he takes a moment to appreciate your chest. You blush before he sinks down and drags slow kisses along your chest, worshiping your body like it was a temple. He sucks on one of your nipples as he wraps his hand around the other, gently kneading before pulling back to suck on the other. You let out soft moans as he continues playing with your breasts. After a couple of minutes, he finally pulls away to capture your lips in his, slowly making out with you. When he pulls away this time, he gives you a quick peck before trailing his kisses down your torso. 

He lets out soft hums of appreciation as he kisses along your stomach, finally reaching the top of your pajama bottoms. He moves up, peeling them off before dragging your panties down. He lets out a content hum as he looks you fully over. “You look good like this, princess…” He gets up from the bed and takes off his clothes slowly, and you drink it in. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this with your best friend. But it felt so right. You smile as he sits down beside you. He gently grabs your sides, lifting you up before placing you on his lap. He smiles as he tells you, “Hmm, yeah, you look like you belong here.” You blush as you look at his eyes and see them filled with adoration. It made you feel a sense of pride as you smiled, “I think I’ll look better with you in me.” He chuckles, “We’ll at least feel better.” You laugh as he lines you up, and you slowly sink down onto his cock. 

You both let out a breath when you fully sink down, making you both laugh a little. Juyeon hums, admiring you from a new angle, “God, you look so beautiful.” You blush and bury your head into his neck, littering kisses along his collar as you bounce on his lap a little bit. When you feel his hands move around your hips, before he starts bouncing you up and down, taking control over your movements, he lets out soft little groans as he works you both into a pace. You mumble against his collarbone, “You feel so good, Ju…” And he hums as you feel his hands move down along you as he changes his grip to get a better hold of you. When suddenly, he smacks your ass, and you let out a shocked moan as you look back at him. He grins as he soothes his hand over the mark he left and lets out a groan, “You have such a good ass, baby…” He picks the pace back up as you suck a hickey onto his collarbone, marking him as yours. You didn’t want him making love to anyone but you. 

He kisses your neck gently, not leaving hickeys, just kissing you like you always wished to be. He mumbles against your chest, “Fuck, I love you.” You kiss the top of his head and murmur, “I love you too.” He holds you close to him, burying his face into your chest as he thrusts up into you. You’ve never felt so close to someone before as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting your head on his as you both take in the moment. You pull back as he finally finds the spot that makes you moan loudly. He asks, “Right there, baby?” You let out a little noise as you try to tell him, ‘Yes’. And you see his smile grow as you let your head fall back, as he starts hitting the same spot over and over. He wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking on it as he continues his motions. With the energy you have left to talk, you ask, “Can.. can you… can you hold my hand?” He hums as he looks up at you with his mouth full before moving a hand from underneath you. He holds it out to you, and you interlock your fingers, holding his hand tightly. 

His other hand moves up, taking hold of your hip to hold you better as you hold his hand. He continues alternating between both of your breasts as he sucks and nibbles on them, littering them with marks as he does. He pulls away to capture your lips in his, and you both groan into the kiss. When he pulls away, you gasp and hold his hand together before shoving your face into his neck, “Ju… Juyeon.” He groans, “Are you close, sweetheart?” You whine and feel him smile into your collarbone, “I’ll take that as a yes.” You feel his fingers finally circle your clit, and you gasp as your legs start to shake. He whispers, “Come on, you can do it... Cum all over my cock, princess.” You cry out, and he encourages you one last time before you do. And he groans at the sight, mumbling, “You look divine…” As his hips start to stutter underneath you as he reaches his own end, squeezing your hand. 

You look down, huffing out little breaths as you both regulate your breathing. When you look back up at him, you find he’s already looking at you with a dazed smile. And he asks, “So, how was that?” You sigh heavily, “I hope we make love many more times.” His lips curl, and his eyes squint as he grins, “I hope so too, princess.” He kisses you gently. And you smile as you kiss back, finally feeling content. After a couple more minutes, when you’re both fully calm down, he pulls out, and you whine at the loss of sensation, which makes you both giggle. He kisses your nose, “That was cute…” You blush, and he pulls you into his arms to hold you close to him again. You sigh contently if this is what making love felt like. You didn’t want to have it with anyone else. After a while of listening to each other’s heartbeats, he finally speaks up, “So, what do you say we get you cleaned up?” You sigh, “I guess.” He nods and adjusts you in his grip, “Okay, let’s go.” He gently picks you up and takes you to his bathroom before setting you on the counter. 

“You look good sitting there.” You blush, mumble a ‘thanks,’ and watch as he wets a rag. He spreads your legs and cleans up the mess you both made between them. When he moves the rag away, he smiles and kisses you on the forehead. And wipes his mess off before asking, “Do you need to use the restroom?” You laugh as you smile, “Yeah, I should… Can I kiss you?” He smiles before agreeing, “Of course.” You place your hand underneath his jaw and pull him in for a kiss, savoring the taste of his lips. He helps you off the counter before heading towards the open door, “I’ll wait for you.” You nod, “Okay.” He shuts the door behind him, goes to the bedroom, and changes the blanket out. When you return, he says, “I got you some clothes out.” You smile, “Thanks, Ju.” He shrugs, “It’s no problem.” You shimmy into them as he starts going around the room, snuffing out the candles. You smile, feeling comfortable in the outfit, and turn around, finding him still closing candle lids, and ask, “Want help?” He smiles, “Yeah.”

You join him, crawling under the bedsheets when you finish snuffing out the candles. You scoot closer before wearily putting your head on his bare chest, “Is this okay?” He grins as he laughs, “I just finished inside of you less than twenty minutes ago. Of course it is.” You laugh as you snuggle into his chest, feeling safe beside him. He moves his arm, wrapping around your side, and asks, “So?” You look up at him, “I liked it.” “Me too.” You speak without thinking, “What does that make us?” And he hums, “I don’t know what were we before?” You shrug, “I think a whole lot more than best friends. All my past lovers thought I was with you so…” He laughs, “Yours too? What do you say we make it official?” You smile, “I’d like that.” He grins, “Me too.” You settle in further into his chest as he whispers, “Do you wanna go to bed? Or do you wanna watch a movie?” You hum, giving it some thought, and he waits, reaching over to his nightstand, already knowing your answer, “Movie, please.” He smiles, grabbing the remote and turning on your guy’s favorite movie. You snuggle into him closer as you enjoy it together for the hundredth time but as lovers for the first time.