#I still like it but it just doesn't give me that good feel I had from season 1 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days

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little black dress

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dom!rafe, fingering, clit rubbing, sub space? (not officially said but its kinda implied), mentions of safe words, overstimulation, squirting, multiple orgasms, kinda forced orgasms, established relationship, mentions of readers body changing since high school

rafe knows he should care about the pouty look on your face, your complaints, but he's too distracted by your breasts spilling out of the top of your dress.

“i can't believe it doesn't fit anymore.” you whine, spinning in the mirror to realize that the dress is too short as well as tight, your bum peeking out from underneath them hem of the black fabric.

“i love it.” rafe says, moving to stand directly behind you, his hands on your waist, the material hugging your body like a second skin.

“rafe, there is no way i could wear this in public, my boob is gonna pop out if i move at all.” you sigh. you had good memories in this dress in high school, but you've grown a few inches, and filled out in places which causes it to look more like a tube top then a dress.

“don't wear it in public, wear it for me baby.” rafe says, eyes greedily raking over your exposed skin.

“you just like when i dress slutty.” you say, turning to face rafe.

“only for me.” rafe says, and you roll your eyes, placing your hands on your hips.

“rafe, what am i gonna wear to the party now? i planned everything around this dress.” you whine, sticking your bottom lip out. your black shoes and purse were brought to perfectly match, even selecting jewelry with black stones.

“fuck the party.” rafe says, burying his head in your shoulder, his hands moving to rub over your hips, waist and stomach.

usually you'd push back against rafe wanting to stay home. you like to party and see your friends, and you know he does too, he just gets too distracted when you get all dressed up, but you really are sad that the dress doesn't fit anymore so you concede and nod your head. “fuck the party.”

it doesn't take long for rafe to have your back on the bed, the dress still on but now pulled out to let your tits free and shoved up so it's just around your stomach, rafe pushing his fingers into your cunt.

“fuck me already.” you whine, feeling another orgasm working it's way to the surface.

“not until you cum again for me, pretty girl.” rafe says, his thumb moving to rub at your clit, massaging the sensitive bud.

“can't.” you complain. “want your cock.”

“you have to if you really want me, baby.” rafe warns.

you slot your eyes closed, concentrating on his thumb against your clit, the way your cunt expands for him as his fingers shove inside of you, thrusting at a rapid pace.

“oh, oh!” you squeal, feeling the sensation before it actually happens as you begin to squirt, rafe continuing to move his fingers through your wetness as sloshing sounds ring out.

“oh my god, stop!” you beg, noting the wet spot that has now formed from your pleasure.

“cum.” rafe commands. it's a simple but powerful one word as your body responds to his demands, back arching off the bed as you cum again, loud moans of your boyfriend's name escaping your lips.

“shit.” you whine out. “i made a huge mess.”

“it was hot as hell.” rafe smirks, wiping his thighs of the wetness. “want you to do that around my dick.”

“i don't know if i can.” you pout, your lower lip sticking out as rafe leans forward and kisses your forehead, ignoring the sheen of sweat on it.

“you'll just have to deal with me fucking you until you do then.” rafe stands up off the bed and undresses the rest of the way. you already tore his shirt off when he first started making out with you, but he's been hard and pushing against the zipper of his shorts, too focused on getting you off to give himself some relief.

“rafey.” you pout as he climbs back onto the bed, kneeling on the bed between your spread out thighs.

“you're fine.” he hums, raising a single eyebrow. “unless you're using your safe word.”

“n-no.” you shake your head. you haven't used it yet, and you're determined not to unless you really have to.

“alright.” rafe smiles. “my good girl.”

rafe strokes his cock while looking between your thighs, your pussy spread open and waiting for him.

he lays himself over top of you, pressing into your chest, feeling the way your boobs squish between your bodies.

“such a perfect body.” rafe pushes his hips forward, sliding his cock against your sloppy folds.

you let out a whine, causing rafe to quickly recapture your lips. “you're perfect. so beautiful, baby.”

“okay.” you whisper, knowing you need to agree with rafe otherwise he won't drop it.

“i love you, and im about to really show you.” rafe pushes his cock inside of you in one quick sweep.

you must have zoned out for a second, lost in pleasure. rafe taps your cheek, your eyes blinking rapidly.

“unghhh-”

“you okay, angel?”

“fuck me. fuck me. fuck me, please.” you spew rapidly, feeling the need growing in your stomach and moving down to your pussy.

rafe hesitates for a moment before continuing, keeping his eyes on your face as he slowly builds up pace.

“i said fuck me rafey, please baby. hard.” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him tight.

“mmkay.” rafe hums, pressing a kiss to your lips before repositioning himself, straightening out and pulling your hips up, holding you at the perfect height to thrust into you.

at your request, rafe doesn't hold back, pulling you to meet him as he bounces you on his cock.

“god!” you scream out, already feeling oversensitive from the multiple orgasms, but you need to have rafe in this way.

“you're so wet.” rafe grunts.

you can't form words to talk as rafe uses you, eyes closing as you try to bring that feeling back, that building in your stomach.

“so tight.”

you reach down, grabbing his hands that are gripping into your hips, sure to leave purple bruises in the morning that will show around your bikini bottoms and tell everyone at the beach what activities you were getting up to.

“so warm.”

rafes praise has your mind floating, planting your feet in the bed as you lift your hips, causing rafe to hit a familiar spot inside of you.

“shit! keep going!” you moan. “i-im gonna squirt again!”

it's all rafe needs to hear to continue at that angle, wanting to feel what it's like to have you gushing around him.

he forces his movements as fast as he can, pressing as deep into your pussy as he possibly can until he feels the pressure building up, keeping his cock against your sweet spot while his thumb rubs over your clit.

his eyes widen, a smile spreading over his face as you squirt, soaking his abs and dripping down his torso and thighs.

“shit baby, i-” rafe groans, not even meaning to cum as his cock explodes, warmth spreading inside of you from the sudden wetness and way your cunt clamps down on his length.

“fuck.” rafes head tips back and your eyes open wide, a halo of light around his head illuminating him, defined muscles toned and shining from his exertion as his chest rises and falls in deep pants.

“i-” you whine. “i need a break. i can't cum again.”

“don't worry, princess.” rafe pulls out carefully, setting your hips down on the bed, knowing he'll have to take care of the wet spot as your entire body slackens. “you did so good for me.”

despite your blissed out, exhausted state, rafe still manages to make you blush.

“how about i just carry you to the guest room and we sleep in there?” rafe offers. “the mess can be dealt with in the morning.”

“mhm.” you nod, before letting out a yawn. “sounds good.”

rafe picks you up carefully, cradling you into his side. “need to make a stop at the bathroom first.” he carries you into your master bath and sets you on the plush chair that you do your makeup in, adding another thing to your list of what needs to be cleaned as he moves to the sink, wetting a washrag before carefully dragging it over every part of your body and assisting you in taking your dress the rest of the way off.

“i love you so much, baby.” he hums out, again picking you up to carry you to the guest bedroom, barely moving away to situate the both of you under the covers.

“that was… something else.” you giggle. “i don't know where i even was.”

“you're okay though?” rafe knows you would have used your safe word if you weren't, but he needs to hear confirmation after.

“yes. i loved it. thank you.” your head is rested against rafes chest, and you don't have the energy to pick your head up and kiss his lips, so you settle for a press of your lips against his pecs.

“thank you.” rafe says, squeezing you tight to him. “for letting me do that and for being the most perfect girl in the world.”

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 2 days

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Good Girl - K.MG

🖐Who; Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x reader 🖐What; Smut, best friends to fuckers/lovers? idk they're besties and they start fucking 🖐Wordcount; 3.8k 🖐Warnings; profanity, spanking, dom gyu, sub reader, a shit ton of petnames omg, dirty talk, pussy slapping, fingering, spit, gyu's giant everything but especially his cock <3, degradation(omg save me), unprotected sex, oral(f), cum eating, praise, squirting

Summary; One minute you're sitting on the couch watching a movie with your best friend and the next, you're face down with one of his hands on the back of your neck and the other routinely connecting with your ass.

Minors do NOT interact, which means liking/reblogging/commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N- This is entirely dedicated to my darling JiJi @ourdawnishotterthanourday , hope you like it, sweetheart 😇 would not have happened without you 😘 💖

If someone were to ask you how it started, you really could not give them an answer. Even as someone involved, you really don't know how you got to this point. You haven't even had any alcohol, you're completely sober but one minute you're sitting on the couch watching a movie with your best friend and the next, you're face down with one of his hands on the back of your neck and the other routinely connecting with your ass.

"That's it, baby, you're being so good for me," Mingyu coos, stopping his borderline harsh spanks to rub a soothing hand over the latest area of impact. All while you're panting and sniffling into the pillow, both hands balled up in the material and mind completely fucking empty. "Are you going to stop talking back now? Going to be my good girl, hm?" You can't even manage to respond, just make some kind of garbled whine in response. Mingyu chuckles lowly and slowly, so fucking slowly leans over you from where he's on his knees behind you. You know he doesn't need to press against you, he's so much fucking bigger than you so he could easily spread over you without pressing his cock against your ass but you feel it and it only makes everything so much worse. He's hard and so fucking big against you. You have never wanted anyone more than you want him in this moment. "Turn your head, baby," Comes his soft encouragement as his right hand moves from the back of your neck to press to the armrest above your head to brace himself, while his left hand slides up from your ass, dragging his heavy touch along the side of your torso and over the back of your shoulder until he can get a grip on your jaw. "Come on," He murmurs, tightening his touch and tugging. You let him turn your face out of the pillow to the side, you can just about make out his smirking features hovering over you. "That's my girl."

"Gyu," You manage, sounding so wrecked already and he hasn't even gotten truly started.

"I know, baby, I know." He hums, adjusting his hold on your jaw to brush his middle finger over the slight opening of your lips. Without thought, you open wider and allow him to slide his finger into your mouth. "Look at you; so ruined already, sweetheart and I haven't even touched you." He chuckles, it's a little mean-sounding, condescending. It makes you whine needily and arch back against him. He licks his lips and presses down on your tongue while rolling his hips against you in return. "That what you want, princess? Want my cock in your desperate little pussy, hm? Bet you're already fucking soaked, huh? Gonna drown my cock, aren't you, baby?" You nod dumbly, eyes fluttering closed as he adjusts his position behind you so that the next harsh grind of his hips has his cock rolling over your clit through the material on both of your bodies. "Fuck, I can feel you, you know? Filthy girl is soaking me through both of our shorts. Are you that desperate for my cock?"

"Gyu," It's not very clear at all, what with his finger still in your mouth and massaging over your tongue teasingly. Not that you care, your head is in the clouds. Actually, your head is so fucking past the clouds you're lightyears away. You really don't care if your attempt at his name is clear, so long as he understands the desperate tone behind it.

He does and lets out another one of those low condescending chuckles. "Is that supposed to be my name?" He teases, leaning down on his left elbow to support his weight without removing his finger from your mouth, in fact, he adds his index finger in beside the first and presses them both down firmly on the muscle. He smirks as he notices the drool spilling from your parted lips onto the pillow under your head. He couldn't see that particular detail from his previous position. It makes his cock jump with interest. "Oh look at you, sweetheart, you're making such a fucking mess from both holes, drooling everywhere." You haven't noticed that he has moved his right hand off the armrest until you feel it at the waistband of your shorts. "Should I take these down, princess?" You nod rapidly and wiggle a little. "Okay, okay," He huffs a laugh and grabs the waistband of both your shorts and panties at once to tug them down your ass and thighs and leave them bunched around your knees.

There's a moment when nothing more happens, Mingyu just watches your face with more restraint than you personally would have in this moment if the roles were reversed. And then, to your genuine surprise, his right hand comes down, right between your thighs. There's a very wet-sounding connection over your pussy and your eyes fly wide as you shriek in shock. It wasn't a very harsh slap at all, more like Mingyu testing the waters as his eyes remain on you. When your eyes dart to him, he smirks and taps against your pussy a few times as his hand is still resting there.

"I knew you'd like that." He taunts. "Filthy little girl likes having her pussy slapped, huh?" To prove his point, he pulls his hand back and brings it down, this time a little closer and harsher, connecting his fingers firmly with your clit and sending a shock of sharp pleasure through your body. You jerk involuntarily and keen while your left hand flails out and grips his wrist by your face to try and ground yourself. He lets you, his smirk growing bigger, cockier.

With every slap against your throbbing pussy, you feel yourself get wetter, dripping out over his hand and down your thighs. The couch is probably getting soaked under you but you're too far gone to give a fuck.

"If I knew you were this much of a little slut, I'd have played with this pussy ages ago," Mingyu mutters when he finally stops his pleasurable attack and instead starts to slide his fingers up and down over your sopping folds. Without warning, the tips of his middle and ring finger catch on your hole before sliding in. You're so fucking wet that he doesn't hesitate to sheath his two fingers in you right down to the knuckles. "Oh, good fucking girl," He groans lowly. "So wet for me, huh, baby, taking my fingers like they're nothing." He works his fingers in you for a moment, just languidly stretching and twisting them without pulling them out. "Think you can take another for me, princess?" You nod, whining a little in need and pushing your hips back against his hand. "Stay still." He warns. "I'll fuck you how I want, you don't get a fucking say in it, understand?" You nod again quickly and fall still to allow him to do whatever he wants. "Good girl."

It's torture, the way Mingyu slowly drags his two fingers right out to the tips to add his index finger to the mix before sliding the three in together. Your eyes flutter close at the pressure, the extra finger adding enough stretch against your hole to make your breath stutter, so you don't notice the way Mingyu's expression turns lax as he feels your walls pressing against his fingers, sucking them in and making him wish he already has his cock buried in your pussy. But he can't. Mingyu knows he's big, borderline ridiculously big, honestly, so he can't rush this. Needs to get you all stretched and ready before he buries his thick cock in you and fills you with his cum.

So Mingyu slowly works you open on three fingers, moving at such a pace both to be careful and to tease you. He can feel you sporadically squeezing down around his fingers and your hips twitching with the urge to move and force him to speed up, but you stay still.

You're being so fucking good for him, such a good fucking girl that he can't keep it up for as long as he initially planned. You've entirely soaked his hand and don't seem to have any issue at all when he slightly spreads his fingers inside you so he figures you're ready.

When the two fingers in your mouth start to retreat, you panic and open your eyes while gripping his wrist tighter to pull him back. Mingyu watches slack-jawed as you suck his fingers back in with a moan, tongue swirling and cheeks hollowing slightly. "Fuck, baby, bet you'd love my cock in that dirty mouth right now, wouldn't you?" You blink at him, eyes so glazed and heavy giving away how truly gone you are. He groans a little. Minutely you shake your head. "No? No what?" You suck on his fingers a little harder, reminding him of his own words. "Oh, you don't want my cock in this hole?" He presses down on your tongue harshly making you moan. "Where do you want it then, sweetheart? Gonna tell me where you want my cock?" You don't speak, you can't, even if his fingers weren't filling your mouth, you're already too fucked out to speak but you have enough control over the rest of your body. Mingyu swears colourfully when you squeeze your pussy around his fingers, clamping down in answer to his question. "You want my cock in your pussy, huh?" He abruptly pulls his fingers from your mouth and starts to straighten up. "You're gonna fucking get it, princess."

Having his hand moving so suddenly away from your face has you panicking naturally, not quite sure what's going on in your fuzzy headspace so you yelp and grip his wrist to try and keep him near to you. Keep you grounded.

Mingyu pauses his retreat and leans over to kiss your head. "It's okay, baby, I'm not leaving. I'm going to fuck you now, okay?" You blink when he pulls back enough to peer at you and meet your gaze. "Is that okay, sweetheart? Your Gyu is going to fill you up, hm?" The way you blink at him is so cute and innocent that he can't help but smile softly at you and lean back in to press a kiss to your temple. "Give me your hand, princess," He encourages, trying to wiggle his wrist from your hold without upsetting you. Slowly, you release your grip and let him take your hand into his. "Good girl."

Mingyu places one more little kiss, on the apple of your cheek this time, before he's straightening up to his full height on his knees behind you while carefully manoeuvring your left arm backwards in a way that won't hurt. He watches your response as he presses the back of your hand to your lower back, you don't react and just let him do it while your fingers wiggle a little until his palm is against yours and you can wrap your fingers around his hand. It's cute, he thinks, how you're searching for the comfort of his hold right now when he's about to fuck you until you forget your own name.

His attention turns down to where his fingers are still buried in you, not moving but still there. The little fond smile immediately slips off of his face at the sight of your pussy stretching around his fingers. "Fuck," He whispers lowly and adjusts his position a little to get a better view as he slowly drags his fingers out. He licks his lips then lifts his hand to his mouth to lap at your flavour coating his skin. A low moan rumbles from his chest. "Gonna eat this pussy later, once I've filled you up, gonna make you cum all over my tongue, baby."

With his hand still mostly wet, he reaches down to shove his shorts and boxers down enough to free his cock. You feel it against the bare skin of your ass, he feels so hot and heavy and you want him in you so fucking much. You squeeze down against nothing and Mingyu notices, watching the way more slick dribbles out of your constricting hole.

"Fuck, baby, you're desperate for something in this dripping pussy, huh," He taunts, voice low as he places his hand over the bottom of your ass, in the perfect place that he can pull you open for his eyes and slip his thumb into you. You whimper a little, it's nowhere near what you need. Mingyu chuckles as he feels you trying to clamp down around his thumb and get more friction. "Oh, baby, that's not going to work." He coos and pulls against your walls slightly to spread your hole.

Nobody has ever done that to you before. It feels kind of degrading but you find that you're not opposed. You push back against him. Instantly, he pulls his hand back and then brings it down to connect with the swell of your bare asscheek hard enough to immediately leave a red mark. You shriek and flail a little, though push right back against his touch.

Mingyu laughs mockingly. "Such a desperate little slut, all for me huh?" He grips his cock and directs it to thunk the head against your clit making your hips jerk as you whine. "Bet you'd let me do whatever the fuck I want to you, right, baby? So long as you get this cock in your pussy," As if proving a point, he spits, right on your pussy where his cock is teasing you. You moan making him laugh again. Though this time he sounds more pleased than teasing. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy ruining you tonight, baby, and then tomorrow, I'm going to do it all over again. Gonna keep fucking you until you can't take a fucking step without thinking of my cock."

And then he starts to push his length into you. He doesn't rush it but he's not going slow. It feels both too fast and too slow as his thick cock gradually splits you open, bigger than his fingers enough that you still feel every fucking inch of him.

When his hips are flush against your ass, Mingyu stops there with his eyes closed tight enough to crinkle his brows, head dropped down and mouth open wide while he tries to ground himself. You feel so fucking good wrapped around his cock. All hot and wet and tight in the best way. It's driving him fucking crazy. He knows he will not last long at all.

You're not faring much better yourself either. You've never orgasmed from penetration alone but you feel so fucking close right now that it genuinely wouldn't surprise you if you do cum the second he moves.

"You okay, baby?" Mingyu asks carefully after almost a full minute of breathing his climax away. He soothes his right hand over your hip and up to your waist then back down to hold you again, his thumb running over your heated skin gently. It takes you a few seconds to hum in confirmation and nod a little. Mingyu smiles at the sight of your closed eyes and open mouth. You look so blissed out and he hasn't even fucked you, hasn't even made you cum yet. He knows you're going to look fucking beautiful cumming on his cock. "Are you ready for me to move?" You respond quicker this time, a desperate tinge to the nod making him laugh softly, amused and fond. "Okay, baby, brace against the armrest for me, hm?" Blindly, you remove your right hand from the pillow to reach the few inches above you and press your palm flat to the armrest. "That's my good girl." He praises then slowly starts to pull his hips back. It's half to tease and half for him to check that the slightest bit of friction on his cock isn't going to make him bust then and there. It doesn't, but he can feel the pressure gathering all the same in his body so he knows he's going to cum very very soon.

So when Mingyu thrusts back into you, it's hard and quick and he doesn't stop there. Immediately he's drawing his hips back and repeating the action with low moans. And all you can do is gasp and moan and try to grip his hand and the armrest for dear life as he fucks into you almost animalistically. Like there's only one thing on his mind and he doesn't give a fuck if he bruises you to get it. Honestly, you don't care either, you'd probably even welcome the marks on your skin. But you can't think of that right now, can't think of anything but his cock pummelling your walls and dragging rapidly across all the most deliciously sensitive spots inside of you.

"Fuck," He manages to choke out as he feels you getting tighter and tighter, it makes his own orgasm rush closer to the surface. "Baby, cum, fucking cum right fucking now." He demands roughly, leaning forward enough that he can reach around with his right hand. All it takes is a little harsh tap on your clit and you clamp down.

The orgasm hits you so powerfully that you almost scream his name as you gush around his length. Mingyu head tips back while he groans deeply with his eyes closed and presses his hips tight up against you, emptying into you with your walls pulsating around his cock to draw every drop of cum out.

For a handful of minutes, you both just try to catch your breath, Mingyu still pressed up against you and face tilted back to the ceiling, mouth open and chest finally no longer heaving so desperately. With his lungs no longer screaming for oxygen, Mingyu dops his head forward and opens his eyes to look down at you. For a second, he thinks you've fallen asleep, your face is slack, eyes closed and mouth parted a little, but when he draws his hips back to let his soft length slip out of you, you wince showing that you're still awake.

"Did so good for me, sweetheart." He hums, sitting back on his heels and gently lets go of your hand. You let him and allow your arm to flop back down to your side, too sated and exhausted to care about the ache in your shoulder and elbow. Mingyu's hands both run over the backs of your thighs and your ass as he watches his cum trickle out of your hole. "So good," He breathes out then grips your ass to spread you open for him to lean in and lick up the mix of your arousal leaking from your hole. You squeak in surprise and jerk. "Shh, shh, baby, it's okay, let Gyu lean you up, hm? I told you I want to eat your pussy after I've filled you."

Honestly, if you weren't so fucked dumb, you'd probably push him away due to sensitivity but you can't really move and his tongue is surprisingly gentle considering how rough he fucked you. So you just sigh softly and remain as still as you can when every pass of his tongue over your clit makes your hips twitch.

"Mm, good, good girl, just like that, that's my girl." He encourages you in between licks and kisses against your heated, sensitive skin. "Just a little more, hm," You hum vaguely in response, agreeing if you're not entirely sure what you're agreeing to. There's probably very little you wouldn't agree to where Mingyu is concerned. You just never expected him to find that out.

Just like he opened you up, Mingyu takes his time and goes slow and steady as he licks and slurps at you, even when he slides a finger in you to tease his cum out, he's in no rush.

It doesn't really register in your mind just how good it feels, you're moaning softly, yes but you don't really register that either. It's kind of soothing, his meticulous thorough actions. And then he's swallowed down the last of his cum and his finger is joined by another and he's curling them downwards. Brushing over your g-spot and making you gasp with every pass.

Suddenly, you realise how tight that ball in your lower belly has gotten and the pressure building even lower. You want to warn him but you can't speak. Mingyu's now rubbing against that very specific spot of your walls, still slow and gentle about it, but with enough pressure and insistence that you're being pulled towards another powerful orgasm. It already feels so different from the first, like it's in your whole body, but just as powerful.

"Gyu," You manage the first word you've spoken in what feels like fucking hours. Just a broken soft little gasp of his name. It makes him moan against you, the vibrations travelling through his lips pressed against your clit and sending you over. The orgasm hits you a second before you feel that pressure burst. Mingyu moans louder than you as you squirt over his face and hand before he's desperately trying to swallow every drop of it down.

As much as Mingyu would happily dedicate his life to eating your pussy, he can tell you really aren't able to handle that right now, so when he's sure your orgasm has ebbed, he gently removes his fingers from you. He takes another couple of seconds to pass his tongue over you and slurp up the last drops he can, then leans back.

It's clear you both need a shower, or a bath, something but also that you are incapable of doing either. Sure, Mingyu could physically hold you up safely in the water, at least normally he'd be able to but right now? You're not the only one with weakened thighs from a toe-curling orgasm. He's very certain he hasn't cum that hard in a long time.

Carefully, Mingyu tugs your panties and shorts back up onto your hips and then fixes his own clothes before he shuffles back enough to give you space when he tugs your thighs out. You flop rather ungracefully stomach down onto the couch making him chuckle softly before he crawls over and nudges you onto your right side with your back to the back of the couch. "Hey, baby," He greets softly, laying down on his left and tucking his arm under your head so you're resting on his bicep and his head is on his own hand when he bends his arm back to himself. He winds his right arm around your waist and places a kiss on your head. "You're already mostly there, but let's nap, hm, sweetheart? And when we wake, we'll get some food and talk. But now, sleep." You softly grunt in response, a sleepy confirmation of words that don't even register. He chuckles and presses another kiss to your head before closing his eyes, more than ready to get some much-needed sleep.

A/N- I just...idek what to say about this, this is very different to my usual style, jumping right into porn and the degradation? like??? gonna go question my sanity let me know what you think & reblog if you liked it!

#wkcnet #svthub #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #svt x reader #svt smut #seventeen mingyu x reader #seventeen mingyu smut #svt mingyu x reader #svt mingyu smut #svt mingyu fanfic #seventeen fanfic #kim mingyu fanfic #seventeen mingyu fanfic

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mrsparrasblog · 1 day

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Randome TF141 headcanons

Some of them are weird. But I just know.

Price:

Never go to the toilet after him

has a hut in the forest for fishing but mostly ends up fucking a local in there

because this man is a whore

he is still the most loyal when he is in a relationship

his favorite food is Shepard's pie or red jelly but not the green one and no one understands why

has so hard Daddy issues that he fathers everyone

uses AXE dark temptation to get rid of the cigar smell in his house

smells like Tom Ford tobacco vanilla

his love language is gift - giving and acts of service

NSFW:

he is a munch everyone knows it but still he is the biggest munch

Breeding kink

He is a whore but just because he thinks he doesn't deserve more than a one nighstands , please give this man a soft wife to dot on - preferably me

he hates Anal sex but riming is okay in his cards

says he is straight but bottomed Simon and Johnny on many occasions and likes to get blowies from or favorite pretty boy :)

prefers hair down there

Ghost:

He only Shops at Lidl you will never see him at Tesco or Sainsbury, even with all the coupons and tricks Lidl is cheaper. You will never see him somewhere else.

He hates London with all his heart, if there were a hate page for London he would be the admin. Dirty tube, bad football, and too many tourists.

He has a deep hate against a parrot, if parrots have zero haters he is dead.

Read Jane Austin and enjoyed it.

Has a book of stupid jokes in his apartment and laughs about them

When he is in love he is the cutest man alive, but somehow still creepy, he knows your favorite things in everything even your favorite underwear company even tho you never told anyone.

uses 5 - 1 shampoo .... from Lidl (still very keen on hygiene)

NSFW

He watches stepsiblings' porn unapologetically

Has a mommy kink. I could go into heavy detail about it

He isn't a rough lover more of a service Dom

Doesn't care about hair down there

Soap:

He sometimes feels left out in his family, his siblings have children and "normal" jobs. His family doesn't see his lifestyle as something to be proud of

Except for his mom, he is such a momma boy but in a good way.

Was a sperm doner once (more than once) but only because he is a good guy with fertile genes

His mohawk was an accident, he decided it looked "fresh" so it stayed.

Watches DC instead of Marvel...... why?

Uses Hugo Boss, bottled Night, got it from his grandma, and never used anything else

NSFW:

Gaz was his BI awakening: after las Almas and the broken shoulder he couldn't wank himself properly, and he got so frustrated because he couldn't even sleep properly with a woman because of it, and he didn't just want to go to the Pub and say "Hey my shoulder is broken can you wank me". So in his half-drunk state, he asked Gaz. And after promising each other they would never talk about it, Kyle did help him. Johnny never cummed that fast. He isn't sure if it was because of Kyle's skilled hands, Kyle's fucking hot body, or that he didn't have a wank in two weeks. And when Kyle licked his cum that was his awakening that he likes men and Women. Of course, he returned the favor after he was healed:)

His favorite porn category is Woman Masturbating or Male Masturbating, everything that is solo is 100000 times better than "real porn".

He lost his Virginity very Young to an older Woman. Johnny always flexed about this, but this isn't a reason to flex.

When you sleep with him - you need to be on the pill because he is mister fucks so hard that every condom breaks.

He wears lingerie sometimes - he pulls it better off than some of us :(

cums way too fast but can last like 4-6 rounds

loves tit fucking

Gaz:

smells like Bleu de Chanel

had a more expensive skincare routine than you

he loves skincare

He grew up with two moms.

He loves listening to Taylor Swift. No one can convince me otherwise.

Is deeply in love with me

He played Rugby in school. If he hadn't joined the Military, he would be a professional Rugby player.

Kyle was still somehow that awkward kid in class. Even needed to change the school because he got bullied.

NSFW:

He was disappointed in Johnny's cock sucking skills, but Price is a different breed.

can pull anyone and is mister give everyone an orgasm, not once in his life did he let his lover unsatisfied

had a foursome once when he was like 23, with three girls who were obsessed with him, and who can judge them

he is a guy who doesn't kiss and tell

his fav porn category is Anal Sex

has a CNC kink but is afraid to ask

is shaven down there but doesn't care if you are or not.

I have so much more ahhhh

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wttcsms · 16 hours

Text

and so a touch that was my birth right became foreign, satoru gojo

with hands blessed with the technique that enables you to feel the most likely future for the person you're touching, it's easy to see why you don't want to touch satoru when he comes back. even if he doesn't know his own ending, all he knows is that he would like to feel your touch even if it's for the last time. so you let him. (wc 1k) content contains satoru gojo x reader, slight angst, allusions to jjk 261 leak, some fluff, possible hurt/(no) comfort (depending on how you look at it), humanizing gojo

“You’re worried about me,” he rolls over in bed, bluer-than-blue eyes staring into yours. “It’s written all over your face.”

“No, I’m not. This is my ‘you’re hogging all the blankets’ face.” You retort, yanking the bedsheets closer to you. You try to make yourself more comfortable, but it’s no use — you only sleep well when you’re snuggled up by Satoru’s side, but the idea of touching him, the effects of what will happen when you do, serves as a good enough deterrent.

“No. It’s your ‘I suck at keeping a secret’ face.”

“Well, that face and my ‘worried about you’ face are two entirely different expressions. So, even if you’re right, you’re still wrong.”

Usually, he would laugh at your logic. Nowadays, there’s not much laughter to spare. Just intense gazes that cut you to the bone, deep enough to leave a mark on your soul, yet soft enough for you to momentarily forget the pain that comes with it. You like to make comments about his eyes; not his Six Eyes, but his. The ones that are uniquely and wholly his own. You want to drown into his eyes, the prettiest, rarest shade of blue that only he could pull off. You know he knows that you think this, which is precisely why you have no issue with telling him he needs to get brown contacts for bedtime because his irises practically glow in the dark.

Our bodies are built by memories. It’s why your fingers twitch, confused as to why Satoru is so close to you, close enough to touch, and yet, there’s still a distance between you two. Your hands know him well — know him the best of all. Your fingers, the ones that have ran through his hair so many times before, may share the same color as many other members of his clan but the stubbornness of his hair is all his own. You would tease him; tell him that his hair is just like him: annoying, with its own mind, its own will. His hair is coarser than it looks, and sometimes, you can still feel remnants of hardened hair gel when he gets too tired to wash it all off properly. (On those nights, you’ll wash it off for him.)

The sharpness of his cheekbones have been traced by the tips of your fingers. Gaunt when he’s so laser focused on work, but full when he’s shoveling food into his mouth. You like the sight of Satoru gorging himself on daifuku; so rarely does he give into greed, and there’s a boyish glow to him when he’s unable to speak because of the sheer amount of mochi he has in his mouth, looking annoyingly cute with his chipmunk cheeks.

“You don’t want to touch me because you’re scared.” Of course, Satoru doesn’t shy away from confrontation. You suppose it’s for the best. The fact that he let you go this long without him calling you out on your behavior isn’t surprising, though. He always puts the feelings of others before his own.

“Is it that obvious?”

Satoru doesn’t need the Six Eyes to see through you. He just needs to use his own.

“Did you really think it wasn’t?” is what he says.

“I just— Knowing the future is worse than the not-knowing.” Your voice cracks during the explanation, but he doesn’t comment yet. He waits patiently for you to continue, even though you already had this breakdown in front of him before, a lifetime ago. When the two of you were just students and he sneakily pulled off your gloves and placed his hand around yours. Back then, his touch had been brimming with life. It had shocked your system, your soul. Every touch exchanged from him since then had felt the same, more or less.

You’re worried that you won’t get that familiar feeling this time around.

“Because not-knowing leaves space for hoping.” He finishes for you. You blink, and suddenly he’s closer, and you want to cry. You want him to be this close to you forever, and you know that that is one future path that not even the strings of fate will entertain.

“I’m worried about you.” You whisper out this confession, and Satoru’s lips part. He looks like he’s about to joke around, to say “aha! I knew it!”, but he doesn’t. There’s a defeated sort of air to him when he tells you,

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m Satoru Gojo, after all.” The smile he gives you is a good imitation of his genuine one, but you can see through him just as easily as he does you.

“I can’t worry about Satoru Gojo?”

“You would waste time and precious tears over the strongest?”

It’s true that his strength is a big part of him, but it’s not his entire being. People chase after the reason for their existence all the time, while Satoru’s been told his entire life that being blessed with his strength is the sole cause for his existence. Satoru knows what his designated purpose is; no one’s ever given him any room for doubt or an opportunity to pursue another path. He could argue that the not-knowing your purpose in life is a whole lot more fun than actually knowing.

“Who’s going to keep that daifuku shop in Osaka open if you’re gone?” And it’s such an unserious statement to make, a statement that has reduced you to a wet puddle of tears, but it’s genuine.

You don’t care about the strongest dying.

You care about him dying.

With the same disregard for your personal space he had back in high school, Satoru takes your hand and laces his fingers through yours. You’re crying, and you can register the warmth of his physical body, but there’s a foreignness in his touch that you don’t recognize, a touch that your hand engraved with memories of him can’t quite seem to remember. It scares you, because you’ve never felt this before. You’re gripping his hand even tighter, as if trying to force his familiar presence to steady you, but there’s no use.

When you touch Satoru, you cannot feel his future. You can’t feel him.

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk 261 #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk one shot #imagine #drabble

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thegnomelord · 1 day

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Demon simon who gets so damn angry when he finds out hunter had lover/crush

Why he so damn mad??? He can't stand him! And it bothers him so much

Then you have hunter who connect dots later and is howling from how funny situation is his *husband* is lil jelouse from his ex / celebrity crush that he kept clinging into him in almost painful grip for weeks

Oooh I love this idea! Lol jealous Simon is such a fun concept but I changed it a bit lol

CW NSFW: jealous demon ghost, groping at the end.

Imagine you, good hunter, in the search of a solution for your. . . problem. . . end up having to meet your Ex. Darek isn't a bad man, he's merely a merchant for all things dark and demented, or so he likes to say whenever the inquisitors come knocking on his door for devil worship. And Darek isn't a bad looking man either, he's got pretty light brown eyes and blonde hair down to his shoulders. He's a charmer who's fooled many a fey into giving their hearts with just his looks and honeyed words.

How you got together is a story echoed by many hunters; He needed some monster parts. You needed some weapons. The sex was just a nice way to soothe over any hiccups in your business relationship and give you both a way to release stress. There was never any feelings, no strings tying you together, just mindless bliss and mind-blowing sex.

Ghost hates him.

If you didn't need Darek, Ghost would already be using his skull as a cup. It wouldn't even take much to take him to the depths bellow, the man reeks of so much sin that the only question on the event of his death would be: which circle would want him the least?

Even when he's invisible, you can still feel Ghost glare at you with the intensity of the nine hells from the moment Darek leans in to brush his lips against yours. It doesn't lessen even a degree when you push Darek away, your mind too wrapped up with thoughts and the possibility of being killed like a common cultist to even think about dealing with Darek's fuck boy behavior.

"Since when did you become such a bore like the other hunters?" Darek huffs, but he's not too hung up about your rejection. The man has a revolving door of lovers, most of them definitely prettier and softer than you.

"Got a slight problem." You say as you take off your glove. An inch of space around your ring finger is burned, the flesh scarred over and blackened so it looks like a wedding ring.

You have to admit, as far as devil worshippers go, Ghost's particular cult was dumb as shit. Why they thought that burning a ring on your finger would somehow make this 'marriage' more satanic is beyond you.

Darek takes your hand, thumb brushing against the scarred flesh. Ghost has never wanted to murder some human more. "Ah, the joys of matrimony." Darek grins, "Don't tell me you already want to leave the poor bride?"

"Groom." You say quickly, tone flat, and you're unsure why you feel the need to correct him when you're talking about a demon. "And yes. I need a way to dissolve this union before some other hunter takes my head."

"Tisk tish, and here I thought you would be more considerate for others." Darek chuckles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and nibbling on your knuckle, a lustful look in his eyes. He does that on purpose, both of you are able to smell the sharp scent of brimstone as Ghost looms behind you, invisible but not unnoticed.

Darek lets go of your hand, starting to go over some old books that he has. They're little help in the grand scheme of things, but you're not in a position to be a chooser, so you agree to buy them.

"Now then, how will you pay?" Darek asks, resting his head in his hand. "You know, it's been so long since we both saw each other. I would be willing to give you a discount if you gave me an hour of your time." He purrs.

You consider it for a moment. It would be nice to let off some steam, especially as you haven't exactly had time to relieve yourself with Ghost always by your side.

And all Ghost can think is: the fucking audacity. He doesn't care if you and Darek have history you are his human, his 'bride', his to touch.

You feel Ghost growl. The 'ring' on your finger vibrates, heat flaring up your entire arm and it feels like a lightning jin is stuck inside your chest. It feels nice- no, it must just be the binding making you think that you're wanted just because a demon is throwing a hissy fit.

"Maybe next time." You still say despite yourself, paying in cash and leaving with Darek telling you to call him if you get bored of the married life.

No sooner are you on the street does an unseen force pull you into a dark alley. Claws, good for rending flesh from bone and not much else, gently scrape down your front before they curl around your belt and pull you close against a body bigger and hotter than yours. Ghost's tail curls around your thigh and on instinct you clench your thighs to trap it, but the crushing force behind it is lessened by the damned curse around your finger (The fact you don't try to punch him is one you will worry about later).

You look up, expecting to snarl at the same skull faced demon you've unfortunately been married to. Only for your mouth to fall to the floor when you look at. . . a man. A handsome man, in the rugged way other hunters are handsome; Blond cropped hair, short like a soldier's and your fingers twitch to scratch his scalp. Firm and strong muscles, hard won just like yours. Five o'clock shadow that many hunters sport when you forget to shave. Dark brown eyes that look very nice when mixed with Darek's hardened feature — wait a moment. . .

He looks like Darek! More precisely a hunter version of him, the version you aways thought about whenever you two would fuck. The only way you can tell it's Ghost is by the Hell reflected in the blacks of his eyes.

"Ghost what the fuck?" Is the only thing you can come up with, your eyes the size of dinner plates.

Ghost just grunts, pushing his weight until you're stuck against the wall. "What do you see in it?" He demands.

"What?" You ask, pressing your hands to his chest and trying to push him away, but your strength evaporates and all your wayward hands do is slide along his muscular abdomen.

His tail moves despite the tensing of your thighs, pressing against your groin. Mild panic builds in your brain as the spines along his tail are sharp enough to tear flesh, but all that violent potential is dampened by the marriage. Instead of tearing your balls off, those spines flatten down, creating a strange sensation against your groin that, unfortunately, has your cock chubbing up.

"What. Do. You. See. In. It?" Ghost repeats himself, each word hissed through semi-human teeth, fangs bared at you.

"Fuck Ghost!" You growl, and the best you can do is grope him in retaliation. Some part of you wants to blame the binding for your passiveness, another knows that the binding would not stop you if you didn't want this.

"Why debase yourself with that mortal?" He asks, his tone changing. He may be a demon of wrath, but he's no stranger to lust. His clawed fingers slide down, not even needing the binding to curb his strength as he cups your groin gently but firmly. "What do you get from it that you can't get from m- from someone else?"

Neither of you mention his slip up, you especially as the firm sensation against your clothed cock has you panting like a dog.

"Wh- what? Je-jealous ar-hm! you?" You manage to say, biting your lip to keep yourself from making a sound a hunter should Not make. (A hunter also shouldn't be groped by a demon but here you are.)

Ghost laughs, sharp and dark. "Absolutely not." His tail curls more around your leg, the size of it making you unconsciously spread them so you're not crushing it. "I am Not jealous of a meager mortal." He growls, his hand continuing to gently grope you, the other hand fiddling with your belt. . .

#I'm a dirty cock tease :)#gnome correspondence #trinckets of the hoard #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x male reader #demon ghost #cod demon au #gay #lgbtq #Gnome's imagines #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #demon simon ghost riley

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g0dlyunsub · 1 day

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can u do Spencer x fem reader where he's away on a case and she is super sick but doesn't tell him bc she doesn't want him to worry and he ends up coming home early and surprises her but she is still soo sick and he feels so bad that she felt like she couldn't tell him and takes care of her and is just so sweet with her!

yess! i loved writing this one so much 😳

doctor's orders.

you fall sick and decide not to disturb spencer during his working hours. when he returns home, he demands that he takes care of you, and you realize how adept he is at fondling the soreness out of you.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

contents :: slightly suggestive :3 lots of fluff, spencer calls reader a good girl once

word count :: 2.5k

author’s note :: spencer would literally be so gentle when taking care of you, it actually makes me sick to the core just thinking about how his nimble fingers would brush back your hair when it sticks to your sweaty forehead arghhh

accompanying song :: sugar by unusual demont

you struggle to keep your balance as you attempt to walk from the couch to the fridge. everything’s a warped blur, and you flail your arms helplessly to catch yourself from leaning too far to one side. but your head’s pounding relentlessly while a faint high-pitched ringing echoes through your ears; a burning sensation’s spreading through your back like a wildfire and your throat’s clenching with a throbbing pain every time you swallow. soon you’re on the ground, your hands fully taking in the coldness of the bare floor. you take labored breaths as you try to compose yourself, mentally counting backwards from ten as you try to lift yourself up but to no avail.

you haven’t felt this sick in a while, and you curse your own body for the painful reminder. you wince as you rest your head on your arm briefly, finally gathering some strength to push yourself off the floor. a bead of sweat trickles down your forehead, and you sigh weakly as you try to stabilize yourself.

the muscle pain, fatigue, congestion, sore throat, and fever – they’re a handful, and you know the symptoms would eventually subside with some home remedies and time, but it barely helps when you can only move by half-crawling and resting your hand on the wall every other step.

and you don’t want to bother spencer about it. he left you early in the morning, but not without fixing you a cup of tea and some scrambled eggs. you were still in bed, blissfully unaware of the symptoms marinating as you slept. and while he’s always told you to text or call him even if it was for a minor inconvenience, you feel bad for taking his time away from something that would easily overtake priority on anyone else’s list – murders, kidnappings, and hostage situations, just to name a few. yet you feel like you’re really testing the waters this time, clearly overestimating your ability to deal with your troubles when you’re clearing the contents of your stomach in the bathroom.

you drag yourself to the kitchen to pour a glass of cold water and gulp it down with tylenol from spencer’s medicine cabinet. it quickly quenches your thirst, and you carelessly drop the glass on the table with a loud thud. you groan as you place a hand on your forehead to feel your temperature. it’s scorching hot, and combined with the sweat, you feel as if your body will give out any moment.

you wipe your hands on your sides and whisper a soft oh. right. you had attempted to surprise your boyfriend with a pretty outfit, wearing a dress with thick lines of lace and mesh sleeves. but the silky layers were insulating all the heat in you, stinging your delicate skin and suffocating you slowly. you can barely lift your arms to take it off, so you give up and lie on the couch. bringing your knees to your chest, you curl up and try to think of anything but your pain.

spencer opens the door with a large grin plastered on his face, eager to greet you back with a tight embrace. he’s carrying a small basket with cookies and heart-shaped packing peanuts scattered all around them, a purchase he scoured for hours at the local plaza after asking garcia what she thinks you would enjoy.

“y/n? guess what!” he walks into the living room with an energetic step, only to stop when he spots you groggily waking up on the couch, your face deeply red and hot puffs of air leaving your mouth in the form of short pants.

spencer drops everything to the ground and runs over to you, the heart-shaped foams rolling everywhere on the ground and ricocheting off the front skirt of the furniture.

“y/n – what happened?” your boyfriend squeezes his arms into the thin space underneath your body, repositioning you so your neck can lie on the padded cushions of the armrest. you whine in pain as you turn to face him, your half-closed eyelids twitching as you try to keep them open.

“hurts,” you wince, and your voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. you’re miserable that this is the state that you’re in, pain jolting through every inch of your body, leaving you a writhing mess in your man’s unwavering hands.

“shh, let me take care of you,” spencer murmurs with a gentle tone, one that’s higher-pitched and soothes you instantly like a massage. he stuffs a cushion under the nape of your neck and props each of your legs up on the other sidearm before wiping your forehead sweat with the back of his hand. his slightly musky and sudsy smell makes you lean into his touch, an intoxicating distraction from the torment of your numbing pain.

“did you dress up like this all for me?” he asks you, his fingers softly brushing back your hair as he examines your outfit. you let out an indecipherable string of words, discomfort flooding into the back of your throat as you attempt to speak.

spencer stands and heads to the medicine cabinet, where he pulls out a thermometer and makes quick strides back to the couch.

“open,” he demands lightly, and you slightly part your lips as he brings the thermometer to your tongue. you slowly close your mouth, feeling the cool tip turn warm under your muscle as you wait for the beep to ring.

when it does, spencer checks your temperature with a concentrated expression, which soon morphs into marked concern. you blink at him slowly, all the while his hands rake through your hair in a rhythmic motion.

he stands once again, disappearing into his room before coming back shortly with one of his t-shirts and a pair of your shorts hanging loosely from his arm.

“you need to change, y/n. as beautiful as you look with this dress, it’s interfering with your body’s ability to thermoregulate.”

you weakly sigh in response, slowly reaching for his shirt as you inhale his familiar scent. you hug his shirt for a little while longer, and spencer has to remind you to change with a soft tap of your hand.

with the help of your boyfriend’s arms, you sit up slowly and start to shrug the sleeves off of your shoulders, to which spencer instantly looks away. he clears his throat as you slip out of your dress and pull up your navy shorts, and he diverts his attention by deciding to pick up the fallen foams instead. after you hastily throw the shirt over your head, you sink back onto the couch and feel an instant sensation of relief as the heat radiating from your body meets the cool air.

spencer’s face is a deep red this time when he looks back to see that the edge of his shirt’s folded in on itself, thereby exposing your stomach in plain view. he hesitantly reaches for the hem and drags it down to cover you, and his hand hovers over your waist for a brief second.

“i’ll be back,” he briefly states before moving back into the kitchen, where he pours a cold glass of water for himself. he takes off his cardigan and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, before reaching his hands into the sink and splashing his face with water. he has no idea how you manage to capture his attention so effortlessly, leave him desperate for air as if he’s the one that’s sick. he bites the inside of his cheek as the image of your flushed face and exposed torso gnaws at his thoughts.

the things you do to him.

he returns to you with an electrolyte drink in his hand, which he uncaps and brings to the bottom of your lips. you take slow gulps as he lays his hand at the base of your neck and helps you to lean back for easier access. once you’re done, he wipes the wet corner of your lips before screwing the cap back on again.

“you didn’t take your acetaminophen, um, tylenol, with dayquil did you?” he asks as he sets the drink on an adjacent table and turns back to face you. you shake your head no and his shoulders relax as he comes down on his knees next to you.

“good girl,” he hums, and you worry your face is even redder than before -- if that’s even possible. your heart races when he utters those words, and you shift your gaze to the ceiling in unanticipated nervousness. you thank yourself for falling sick when you feel your cheeks turn a shade of pomegranate red, and it feels like your skin is singed from your own emotional response.

“are you hurting anywhere else?” he asks you, and you briefly close your eyes as you try to register a way to explain your pain to him. when your eyelids open, spencer’s tender gaze meets your tear-soaked orbs.

“everywhere,” you gasp. as soon as you speak, you feel an acidic taste bubble up your esophagus, causing you to gag.

“spence, i- i’m gonna vomit-” you barely manage to let out as you rush to the bathroom, bending over to throw up.

spencer’s right hand gathers your hair and lightly bundles them up in a makeshift ponytail, while his left picks up the stray strands of hair that manage to escape his large grip. you stretch your arm so your sweaty palm presses against the wall, and you grip tightly when illusory stars dizzy your vision.

when you finish, he helps you to slowly get up, one hand on your waist and the other holding your arm as he guides you back to the couch.

you soon feel the tears start to fall, leaving wet speckles on your boyfriend’s arm. he brushes them away as he cups your face, reassuring you with words of comfort.

“it’s okay, you can take all the time you need,” he whispers, worriedly pursing his lips as he surveys your rosy cheeks, tear-stained eyes, and irritated nose.

when you lay back, a layer of sweat presses against your back and his gauzy shirt sticks to your skin like hot glue. spencer's gentle hand rubs up and down your shoulder, before it drags halfway down the trail of your arm.

even more softly, your boyfriend suggests, “do you want to try some acupuncture? while we wait for your body to clear the infection, we can try to reduce your symptoms through natural techniques. there are various acupoints for exogenous fever, and it might help to apply some pressure there.”

you nod slowly. at this point, you’re willing to try anything to relieve even the smallest ounce of pain. spencer takes the opportunity to lift you in a sitting position once again, turning you to sit facing away from him.

he then lifts a thumb and approaches your back, finding the indentation just below the bump of your middle back. when he lightly applies pressure, a whimper leaves your lips and you lightly grip the sides of the couch. he wordlessly repeats this three more times before moving up to the nape of your neck, where he applies pressure in a circular motion. a defeated groan escapes your throat as you’re weighed down with his intolerable tenderness. you try to withhold yourself, to lump your sounds in your lungs like they’re a clot, but it’s a feeble attempt, one that encourages spencer to keep going. but he knows. despite how unfiltered and raw your cries are, they are not desire, not in that sense.

“acupuncture… it’s an excellent way to promote blood circulation as it stimulates flow through the body. targeting certain acupoints could help to reduce congestion, as well as relieve headaches and neck pains that are often associated with fever," he muses as he moves further down your spine again, lightly applying force in areas that soon subside from burning pain into relief.

spencer feels that there's a sense of logic to the way you move underneath his touch; the way your chest heaves euphorically in and out, the way you gulp for air between the rubs, and the way you shudder quietly. all of it fascinates him.

“but,” your boyfriend breaks his short-lived silence, “that’s not what i want to talk about right now." spencer lightly grunts as he shifts his weight by kneeling on one knee, placing his hand on your forehead to check your temperature again.

“i want you to explain why you didn’t text or call me.” his tone is a cautionary one, and it makes you slightly nervous.

“I didn’t want to disturb you. and… i wanted to surprise you,” you truthfully reply, avoiding his gaze.

he lightly chuckles before playfully poking your cheek.

“forget about the surprise. any time you’re sick like this, i need you to tell me. okay?” he taps each of his fingers across your arm and your hand lightly twitches with the gentle contact.

when you don’t respond, he raises a brow at you.

“that’s an order, y/n.”

you dispiritedly return a yes before he nods in approval.

“you look beautiful regardless of what you wear, y/n.” he makes sure not to come too close to you when he speaks, aware his warm breath could make it uncomfortable for you.

“you don’t have to lie, i look terrible right now.” you try to look away, but his gaze follows you as you move.

“what are you saying?" he frowns. "you’re so strikingly beautiful, it hurts when i have to see you in pain. i hate seeing you sick like this because you smile less. and i love seeing you smile,” he speaks dreamily, his lovestruck eyes glazing over yours like the two of you are interchanging blessings.

“okay, doctor reid,” you say half-sarcastically, but you smile when his thumb grazes your cheek. spencer grins in response and buries his face into your neck, his soft hair tickling against your cheek. you burst out laughing, but your sudden movements cause your face to contort into pain as you cough.

spencer pulls back almost instantly, laying a hand on your shoulder and telling you to breathe. when you both recollect your breaths, he gets up and stretches his arms.

“tell me when you’re feeling ready for a bath, i’ll set it up for you.”

he stands beside you, watching as your chest rises up and down with your timed breaths. you smile contently before lightly pinching the side of his trousers.

“but i want to keep this shirt,” you say coyly, admiring the softness of the fabric as you trace the edges of the embroidered fbi logo.

you look up to see spencer blush as he scratches the back of his neck.

“i’ll have a new change of my clothes for you.”

he then stoops to take away your now lukewarm cup of water, disappearing into the kitchen.

the things you do to him.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #mgg #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler

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outromoony · 3 days

Text

Love confession

@wolfstarmicrofic | Soulmate AU | Word Count: 683

"Do you believe in soulmates?" The moment those words escaped Sirius's lips, he knew he must have said something wrong. Remus was looking at him with an expression of surprise, his eyes wider than usual. He tried to take back his words. "I mean... of course soulmates exist. Look at James and Lily. They are soulmates, without a doubt."

"Why question the existence of soulmates when you've already found yours?" Remus finally spoke, clearly swallowing the emotions that had gripped him just moments before.

"It's just... I don't know. Aren't soulmates supposed to be reciprocal? If someone matches your soul, aren't you supposed to match theirs as well?"

"You don't think you match Mary's soul?" Remus was looking at him with something like a mix of confusion and pity. "And... no. Soulmates are not always reciprocal. Souls aren't perfect, just like their owners. Nothing in the world is perfect—not magic, not humans, not wizards, and certainly not souls."

"I found my soulmate, but they haven't found me."

"What are you talking about? You've had your tattoo since first year. And then dated the one who caused it years later. You broke up with her, yeah, so what? That doesn't mean she isn't the one for you. Just like soulmates, time isn't perfect either. You will find the right time, Sirius; you always do."

Why was Remus always so good with words? It only made him feel even guiltier when he spoke again.

"Mary... she isn't my soulmate."

"What?" Remus's eyes widened, as if he were just looking at him properly for the very first time. "What do you mean?"

"Mary isn't my soulmate; she isn't my permanent tattoo."

"I-" Remus had to shake the surprise out of his face. "But why would you lie about something like that?"

"Maybe because I barely knew you lot at that time?" Sirius laughed with obvious sarcasm. "I just saw the first pretty girl and said it was her. But it wasn't; I never even spoke to her once all first year."

"Then your tattoo..." Remus began, but Sirius cut him off.

"I didn't lie about that. I did get my tattoo at eleven."

"Then why lie about who it was?" Remus was waiting for an answer, and Sirius wanted to give it to him, he always had. But fuck, it was so hard, to look at him in those gorgeous brown eyes and say the words he should have said a long time ago.

So he didn't; instead, he just lifted the sleeve of his shirt until the black ink was exposed.

Sirius could still remember it as if it were yesterday—the first time he met Remus Lupin. The quiet boy had been annoyed with him and James for causing a rampage on the train. He never said anything, but he would shoot them annoyed glances from behind the book he was reading every five minutes.

When all of them were sorted into Gryffindor, Remus was the last one to join them at the table. There was something about him, from the very first moment, that made Sirius want to be close to him forever. He recalled shoving James out of the chair next to him, making it the only available seat so Remus would have to sit beside him.

The first time Remus ever spoke to him was when he realized where and with whom he had ended up. He sat next to Sirius, avoiding eye contact at first. But then he smirked—a malicious, playful smirk that left Sirius feeling breathless and weak. Then he spoke.

"Ah, the universe has a sense of humor, I see."

Those were the exact same words that were now tattooed on his skin. The same words that had been there since the moment Remus met his gaze for the very first time. Sirius looked up to see Remus's reaction after seeing the tattoo. It was one of shock and disbelief, but as he recovered, Remus rolled up his own sleeve as well, revealing a fresh tattoo still red around the edges:

Do you believe in soulmates?

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hellsslibrary · 2 days

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Can I request power bottom jamil where he rides readers face? I think He’d like the control but also he deserves a break.

"Come on, come on, give it a try".

!!Warnings: power bottom!Jamil, sub top!Male reader, face sitting, rimming, praise, light mocking, hair pulling, very little of nipple play, teasing(?), reader tied to bed.

“Come on, Jamil, don’t be shy... It’s just oral sex. Moreover, you won’t leave me here poor, tied up and looking at your gorgeous ass without the opportunity to touch it, right?” you ask as Jamil sits on the other side of the bed, thinking about something, looking at your hands tied to the sides of the bed.

“If you keep talking like that, I will,” Jamil snaps back softly, but still slightly hesitant, he sits on your torso, looking down at you, running his fingers over your chest.

Viper sighs deeply and closes his eyes as you take a chance to admire him. His chocolate hair is now untied, leaving only the usual small braids in his shiny hair. There was a thoughtful, almost deeply thoughtful expression on his face, which gave him a strange sexual charm. His slender, toned body sits so deliciously on you, although when he is seriously on you, it will definitely be much better.

"Close your eyes".

He whispers and you immediately obey with a smile, feeling him get off of you and rustle something somewhere next to you before you feel his hands rest on your chest, squeezing it lightly.

"Do you remember what to say and do if it gets too much?" Jamil asks looking over his shoulder at you and you nod and he just grins, “Good boy.”

He gently and experimentally lowers himself onto your face, although he doesn't sit all the way down, still trying this new experience. A groan escapes his lips.

Jamil felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness as he positioned himself over his your face. It was something he always wanted to try, but he never had the courage to ask for it. The feeling of fullness as your lips kissed his butt sent shivers down Jamil's spine. He rocked back and forth carefully, getting used to the feeling of another person so close to such an intimate part of his body.

"Are you okay?" Jamil asked quietly, breaking the silence between them, "I don't want to push too hard if it hurts."

You nodded in response, your tongue pressed firmly against Jamil's buttocks, continuing to explore every inch you could reach with your tongue and teeth. The sensation was overwhelming at first — hot breath on sensitive skin mixed with a gentle sucking that felt almost too blissful from below — but Jamil soon began to relax into it all.

One of his hands slides back to cup your head, fingers sliding through your hair as your tongue finally slips inside him and it makes him groan gutturally. It certainly doesn't compare to your dick or your fingers, but it's a surprisingly relaxing feeling for something so sexy.

His back arches beautifully as he finally lowers his weight onto your face, causing your hands to instinctively twitch in the ropes, wanting to take those ass cheeks into your hands. A chuckle escapes Jamil’s lips at the sight and he circles your nipple teasingly, squeezing it lightly.

“Don’t move, you won’t get out, darling, not today,” Viper whispers with a smirk on his face, which immediately turns into a relaxed and then lazy smile when you finally reach his prostate.

Although, purely theoretically, you could get out of the ropes with ease. Jamil didn't tie them that tightly. But did you want this? Unfortunately, it’s not possible to answer this question; talking with your mouth full is uncivilized, don’t you think?

Either way, you hummed in satisfaction as Jamil's thighs closed around your head and he sat up straight, practically putting his entire weight on your face. A sadistic twinkle danced in his eyes every time he glanced forward and saw the more than noticeable boner in your pants.

"Come on, you can do better than this. Or do you want to torture me and make me beg?" Vice-housewarden asks you with a slight mockery, which makes you almost want to bite his rim, but you understand that most likely you will be left without sex for a week or two, so you refrain.

Jamil was more than willing to wallow in this pleasure, to drown completely in these waters of ecstasy and euphoria. This sexual act for him is more than the usual satisfaction of a physical need and his usual craving for control. After all, you are the only one who would obey him without using his ability. And damn... He was going to take full advantage of this.

Your tongue slid along his walls, not missing a single particle inside him, making sure everything was covered in your saliva. Every little bump inside him, every smooth surface, every damn thing in his body deserves release.

Viper groans, moving against your face as you focus on his sweet spot, mapping it out. The tip of your muscle presses against it, causing him to tighten your hair in his grip, practically burying your face between his ass cheeks.

His hand, not tangled in your hair, rests on his dick, stroking it in time with the thrusts of your tongue inside him, in time with each of your licks, in time with each of your special spreading your tongue inside.

“Come on, just a little more... I'm almost...” Viper hums hoarsely, desperately rubbing the head of his cock, riding your face even more desperately in an attempt to cum, to experience the release his soul and body need.

His body shudders as he comes, staining your breasts with his cum, panting heavily for a couple of seconds and then sliding off your face as his post-orgasmic bliss wears off.

Your hands actually easily slip out of the ropes, which immediately fall to the floor, although neither of you cares. Your hands move Jamil’s body into your lap, pressing his back against your torso, kissing his neck.

“Mmm, you were right, it felt incredible, but you know...” He whispers and then lowers his gaze to your rock hard cock, which sticks out between his legs, teasingly brushing the head of his cock, making you whimper. “We should do something about it, if you did such a good job, I guess?”

#seme male reader #top male reader #a!writes.#sub character #sub twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader #jamil x male reader #jamil viper x male reader #dom jamil #jamil smut #sub top reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper x reader

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nayziiz · 3 days

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Stay | LN4

Summary: A new romantic prospect puts things into perspective in the best and worst ways possible.

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Cara)

Warnings: Angst

Masterlist

CHAPTER 6

The music was louder than Cara expected when they entered the club. Maya immediately dragged Lando over to the bar to get drinks, and Max and Pietra went on a mission to find the private booth Maya had apparently arranged. Cara hung back for a minute and surveyed the scene. It wasn't her go-to place regardless of the country she found herself in. She sighed, defeated, knowing she would be spending most of her night being miserable.

Trying to make the best of it, Cara wandered over to the bar, deciding to get herself a drink. She squeezed through the crowd and managed to catch the bartender's attention, ordering a simple gin and tonic. As she waited for her drink, she couldn't help but notice Lando and Maya at the other end of the bar, Maya clinging onto Lando's arm as they laughed together.

Cara felt a pang of something she couldn't quite place—jealousy, maybe? She quickly dismissed the thought, reminding herself that she and Lando were just friends. Still, it was hard to ignore the growing discomfort she felt every time she saw them together.

“Here's your drink,” the bartender said, breaking her train of thought. She thanked him and took a sip, letting the cool liquid calm her nerves. She turned away from the bar and tried to spot Max and Pietra, hoping to find some solace in their company.

After a few minutes of searching, she finally saw Max waving her over from a corner booth. She weaved through the throng of people, grateful to finally sit down and escape the chaos for a bit. When she reached the booth, Pietra scooted over to make room for her.

“Never really been your scene, huh?” Max observed, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Not at all. But hey, at least I've got you guys to keep me company,” Cara shook her head, managing a small smile.

“Don't worry, we'll make sure you have a good time,” Pietra assured her with a pat on the shoulder.

“See, she looks so out of place,” Maya whined when she looked back at Cara. Lando followed her eyes and found Cara slowly moving towards Max and Pietra.

“Cut her some slack, she's trying,” Lando countered, a hint of frustration in his voice.

“Why do you defend her so much?” Maya asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

“Because she's one of my best friends, Maya.” Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words.

“It just feels like she's always around, and I don't get why you prioritise her so much.” Maya pouted, clearly unsatisfied with his answer. Lando took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

“Cara is important to me, just like Max, just like Pietra. We've been through a lot together. It's not about prioritising; it's about recognizing the people who genuinely care about you. You should give her a chance, get to know her better.” Lando continued. Maya rolled her eyes as she shifted closer to Lando, linking her arm through his.

“Baby, she's not like us, she doesn't fit in,” Maya retorted, her tone dismissive.

“Like us? What does that even mean?” Lando asked, baffled by Maya's comment. “Alright, if you want to see me defensive, keep saying stuff like that.”

“Calm down, Lan. I'm just sharing my opinion,” Maya shrugged, trying to downplay the situation.

“No, you're being mean towards her, and that's not cool, Maya. She's only been nice to you,” Lando continued, his voice firm.

“Whatever, Lan. I just think you should focus more on us.” Maya rolled her eyes at him once more. Lando shook his head, feeling a growing frustration.

“It's not a competition, Maya. If you can't accept my friends, then this won't work.” Lando informed her. Maya stared at him, a mixture of anger and hurt in her eyes. “Give her a chance. You might actually like her if you got to know her.”

Maya didn't respond, instead turning her attention back to the bar. Lando sighed, knowing that this was far from over, but determined to stand by his friend.

Cara spotted Lando and Maya in an intense conversation from their reserved booth where she sat with Pietra and Max, who were also chatting away. She nudged Pietra, drawing her attention to the scene unfolding at the bar. Pietra turned to look at what Cara was indicating.

"Trouble in paradise?" Pietra asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Who knows?" Cara sighed again, feeling a pang of discomfort at the sight.

Max, picking up on the shift in conversation, turned his attention to the bar as well. "Looks like things are getting heated over there."

Cara nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "Yeah, it does."

Pietra leaned in closer to Cara. "You okay?"

Cara forced a small smile. "Yeah, just...it's been a weird night."

Max gave her a sympathetic look. "Weird how?"

Cara hesitated, glancing at Lando and Maya again. "Just...Maya's been making things a bit uncomfortable. I feel like I'm in the way."

Pietra put a reassuring hand on Cara's arm. "You know you're not in the way, right? You're part of this group, and we all want you here."

Throughout the night as the drinks flowed, Cara loosened up and even ended up on the dancefloor. She danced with some girls for a while, and then the men started approaching her. Lando ground his teeth, his jaw locked, as he watched her dance against a new man every few minutes, a goofy smile plastered on her face as she did so.

He could feel the frustration bubbling inside him, his protective instincts flaring up with each passing moment. He knew Cara was just trying to have a good time and shake off the evening's earlier discomfort, but it didn't stop the surge of jealousy and concern he felt seeing her surrounded by strangers.

Maya noticed Lando's attention was securely on Cara and nothing else the second she went on the dancefloor, so in a huff, she left the club without saying goodbye to Lando. She felt a sting of betrayal and disappointment as she pushed through the throng of people, heading for the exit. Her dramatic departure went unnoticed by Lando, who was too engrossed in his moment with Cara to see anything else.

Lando was able to contain himself until he saw another new man approach Cara. The man slid in behind her, grabbing her hips as they swayed, and pressed himself right against her. She didn't move away from him, not even when his hands travelled around to her waist and later to her butt and thighs. Lando's blood was boiling as he stood and watched.

Max, noticing Lando's agitation, nudged him. "You okay, mate?"

Lando forced a tight smile. "Yeah, just... keeping an eye on things."

Max followed his gaze to where Cara was dancing, understanding dawning on his face. "She's just having fun, man. Let her enjoy herself."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. It's just hard to watch."

Pietra, joining the conversation, leaned in. "Maybe you should go dance with her?"

Lando hesitated. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

Pietra gave him an encouraging smile. "It might be exactly what she needs. Besides, it's clear you're not happy just standing here."

He walked through the crowd to where she was. The man dancing with her had disappeared, and Lando took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her waist from behind to see what her reaction would be. Instead of pushing his hands away, she rested her hands on his and intertwined her fingers with his. She pressed her body against his and swayed to the beat of the music. She rested the back of her head against his chest and turned her head slightly so she could just, ever so slightly, brush the tip of her icy nose against the skin of his neck.

“You know it's me, right?” Lando asked, his voice soft yet tinged with a hint of amusement.

“Uh-huh,” she hummed, warm from both the alcohol and by Lando’s sudden presence behind her.

“I thought I'd join you,” he replied, trying to keep his tone light. “Looks like you're having fun.”

"I am. But I wouldn't mind a familiar face to dance with,” she admitted, a slight flush to her cheeks.

“Well, here I am.” He grinned, relieved.

Lando and Cara continued to dance, their laughter and movements synchronised. The energy between them was palpable, drawing a few curious glances from onlookers but mostly just blending into the vibrant, carefree atmosphere of the dancefloor. Max and Pietra, seated in the booth, observed the scene with satisfaction.

“Looks like they’re finally letting their feelings take control,” Max commented, leaning back with a contented smile. Pietra nodded.

“It's about time. They both needed this.” Pietra agreed, hinting at all of the months and trips they spent watching Lando and Cara dance around each other and their feelings.

After their night at the club, the unexpected intimacy they shared on the dance floor lingering in their minds, Cara and Lando found themselves back at the apartment. The atmosphere was filled with a mixture of awkwardness and anticipation, as both of them tried to process the shift in their relationship. They had reversed roles for the evening: Lando took the couch, and Cara took his bed.

Cara lay in Lando's bed, surrounded by the scent of him that clung to the sheets and pillows. She turned over and buried her face into his pillow, breathing in deeply. His scent was comforting, but without him being close, it felt suffocating and incomplete. The bed felt enormous and empty without his presence. It was cold. Too cold. She pulled the blankets tighter around herself, trying to find some semblance of warmth, but it was no use. The events of the night replayed in her mind, especially the moment on the dance floor when she had felt so safe and connected in his arms.

In the living room, Lando tossed and turned on the couch. The cushions felt foreign and uncomfortable, a far cry from the familiarity of his bed. The eerie loneliness of the room gnawed at him, amplified by the silence of the early morning hours. He stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts consumed by the feel of touch and the way she had fit so perfectly in his arms. He couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that filled the room without her presence nearby.

Both of them were restless, struggling to find comfort in their new sleeping arrangements. The distance between them felt greater than the physical space that separated the couch from the bedroom. They were both acutely aware of each other's absence, and it weighed heavily on their hearts.

His bedroom door creaked open, and Cara stood leaning against the doorframe, watching Lando toss from one side of the couch to the other. The sight of him struggling to find comfort tugged at her heart. She could see the unease etched on his face, and it mirrored her own feelings of restlessness.

“Not comfortable?” she whispered as she approached him, halting his movements.

“Something like that,” he admitted, sitting back with a sigh. He looked despondent, the weight of the night’s events clearly still on his mind. Cara took a seat beside him, their shoulders brushing. “Why are you still up?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” she confessed, pulling her sweatshirt’s sleeves over her hands. The fabric provided a small comfort against the cold, but it did nothing to quell the chill she felt inside.

Lando sat there, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a caged bird desperate for freedom. His mind raced, a flurry of doubts and uncertainties clouding his judgement. Was this the right moment? Would she think he was being too forward? A myriad of questions bombarded his thoughts, threatening to drown out the faint whisper of courage that urged him forward.

Yet, amidst the chaos of his mind, there was a flicker of something different—an ember of spontaneity and daring that dared to defy his apprehensions. It was that tiny spark that propelled him forward, urging him to take a leap of faith into the unknown. For a brief moment, he hesitated, his lips parting as if to speak, only to falter at the brink of uncertainty.

But then, with a surge of determination, he silenced his doubts and let his words spill forth into the space between them.

"Fancy a cuddle?" he suggested, the words hanging in the air like a delicate promise waiting to be fulfilled.

In that instant, time seemed to stand still, the world holding its breath as they stood on the precipice of possibility. Would she laugh it off, dismissing his offer with a gentle smile? Or would she embrace the spontaneity of the moment, taking his hand and diving headfirst into the unknown?

As the blush bloomed across her cheeks, Lando felt a surge of anticipation mingled with a hint of vulnerability. He watched her, his heart pounding in his chest, wondering what her response would be. For a moment, she seemed to retreat within herself, her gaze flickering away from his as if grappling with an inner turmoil.

Then, just as he began to fear that his suggestion had been too bold, she surprised him. With a deep breath, she rose from her seat, her hand extended towards him in a silent invitation. It was a gesture filled with a quiet determination, a silent affirmation of trust and curiosity.

Lando felt a rush of relief flood through him as he accepted her hand, letting her lead him back to his room. The air between them crackled with anticipation, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging heavy in the space around them.

Once inside, he closed the door behind them, the sound echoing softly in the silence. He watched as she made herself comfortable under the covers, her movements graceful yet tinged with a hint of uncertainty. It was a simple act, yet it spoke volumes—a silent agreement to embrace the intimacy of the moment, to explore the connection that pulsed between them.

As Lando slipped out of his shirt, the fabric falling away to reveal the contours of his frame, it felt like shedding a layer of inhibition, a symbolic gesture of vulnerability and intimacy. It was a routine he had grown accustomed to, a small act of comfort and familiarity in the quiet moments before sleep claimed him.

With a silent grace, he joined her beneath the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning them in a world of their own making. And as he settled beside her, he felt a sense of rightness wash over him—a feeling of belonging that transcended words or explanations.

She welcomed him into her embrace with a natural ease, her body fitting against his like two pieces of a puzzle finally finding their perfect match. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of her breath against his neck, a soothing rhythm that lulled him into a state of contentment.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close, relishing the sensation of her skin against his own. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes—an unspoken promise of protection and comfort, a silent declaration of love and devotion.

With her hand resting on her exposed stomach, he felt a surge of tenderness well up within him.

“Tell me something nobody else knows about you,” Lando quipped in an attempt to distract himself from the feeling of her body against his.

“I am absolutely terrible at skiing,” she whispered with a small chuckle.

“Is that why you didn’t come to Finland with us?” he realised.

“Partly, yeah,” she chuckled. “I did have to work, too.”

“I can teach you, you know, how to ski,” he offered.

“You’d be teaching a wall how to walk, not going to happen,” she countered.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m a great teacher. Just look at how great you are now at karting,” Lando teased with a knowingly smile.

“Alright, fair enough,” she conceded, chuckling slightly at his cockiness.

The excitement of their banter dissipated into the tranquil embrace of the night as she nestled her head into the curve of his neck once more. Her breath, warm yet tinged with a hint of chill, ghosted across his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

Lando's fingers traced gentle patterns over her arm, the warmth of her touch a soothing balm against the tumultuous currents of his thoughts. He tried to coax himself into a state of sleep, to let the gentle rhythm of their breaths lull him into oblivion. But amidst the quiet darkness, the desire that simmered beneath the surface refused to be ignored.

With each passing moment, the urge to lean in and capture her lips in a tender kiss grew stronger, a silent plea that echoed in the depths of his soul. He turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting hers in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window.

Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, a wordless conversation that spoke volumes of unspoken desires and hidden truths. In that fleeting moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of them suspended in the timeless embrace of the night.

“I really want to kiss you,” he confessed, his voice so soft it was barely a whisper.

“Okay,” she mimicked his tone and volume, her breath warm against his skin.

With a tender reverence, Lando cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across her skin. He leaned in, closing the small distance between them, and gently pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was soft and delicate, a gentle caress that spoke of all the unspoken words and feelings they had shared.

For the first time in a very long time, Lando felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach—the good kind that signalled something special, something real. It wasn’t a hungry or desperate kiss, but one filled with sweetness and tenderness, a reflection of how he felt about her.

When he finally pulled away, he watched her eyes remain closed, her face serene as she absorbed every moment of the lingering sensation. A smile curved her lips, and in that moment, Lando knew that this simple kiss had sealed something profound between them.

They spent the rest of the night wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy, gazing at each other with a mixture of wonder and contentment. The world outside their little bubble seemed to fade away, leaving only the soft glow of the moonlight and the quiet whispers of their shared breaths.

With tender curiosity, they traced invisible shapes into each other’s skin, their fingertips leaving trails of warmth and affection. Each touch was a silent declaration, a wordless conversation that spoke of their growing closeness and the trust they had built.

Her fingers played gently with his hair, twirling soft strands between her fingertips, while he marvelled at the delicate way she moved. In return, his hand found its way to her hair, smoothing it back from her face with a tenderness that made her heart flutter.

As the night wore on, their words grew softer, their touches slower, each moment drawing them deeper into the embrace of sleep. The rhythm of their breaths synchronised, creating a soothing lullaby that carried them towards slumber.

Finally, with their bodies entwined and hearts beating in unison, they drifted off to sleep, each wrapped in the comfort of the other’s presence. And as they slipped into dreams, the night held them close, a silent witness to the beginning of something beautiful and enduring.

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hwanchaesong · 3 days

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━⁠☞🍽️ Second Course: He treats you so well, and you're naive enough to believe that only you have the key to his tasty heart. Or his pants. 🥢

🎧: Olivia Rodrigo - Traitor

wc: 1.0k

genre & warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of sex, cursing, crying, there's another girl, lovers to exes, pure heartbreak :D , Yeji of ITZY special appearance etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The Sour Restaurant series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

ps. i've already reposted this but it still won't appear under the tags that i've put so ig i'll just let it be lmao. imma just post it the way it is bc i'm tired of trying and thinking on what to do to make it work.

At the tender age of 13, you took note of everything that was written in an article that you accidentally opened and read on a fishy website entitled, 'Signs that your partner is falling out of love.'

You thought it would help you avoid conflict with a future partner, it would help you evade an impending heartbreak, but nothing can prepare you for the real world, it seems.

Your boyfriend, Park Seonghwa, was the definition of a picture perfect man.

He's kind, respectful and loving. He had all the love languages.

He never shunned away from skinship, and most of the time, he's the one who's initiating it. Giving you hugs and kisses even in public without any ounce of shame.

Even when he's busy, he still gives you the time of his day. Often, he would choose to lose sleep if it means that he'll be able to talk and see you after a long, tiring day at work.

He's also the type to buy 'just because' gifts. Randomly walking around a park then he'll see this cute bunny keychain, buying it immediately so he can give it to you because the bunny reminds him of you.

Fixing collars, tying shoelaces, cooking you food— he does it all, and naturally too. The way he pampers you like a mother hen is the sweetest thing you have ever seen in a man.

The most important thing though? It's his ability to listen and soothe all your worries away. He tells you that if you're overthinking, you can simply say it to him and he'll gladly give you all the assurance that you need.

So, what went wrong? Where did it go wrong? Is there something wrong with you?

The situation at hand made you question yourself, then again, are you really the problem here?

"The least you can give me is a reasonable explanation!" you yelled, gripping Seonghwa's arm that was holding his suitcase, attempting to stop him from leaving you without any form of closure.

"Well, what do you want me to say?" he snapped, raising his usual soft voice at you, something that he has never done before.

"A reason! Explanation, anything! Why are you suddenly breaking up with me?!" you blinked rapidly, the itchiness in your throat makes it harder for you to breathe, and the sinking feeling of dread in your stomach is urging you to vomit.

This is so fucking messed up.

Just last night, Seonghwa was fine. He even made love to you in your shared bed, whispering how good you are for him.

Last week, he brought you flowers. Last last week, he took you to a nice restaurant for dinner. Last month, he took you to Maldives for a summer getaway.

Nothing changed and everything felt the same, thus, the current happenings don't make sense.

You come home from work and the next thing you know, your significant other of how many years are mumbling nonsense of going separate ways. That you two are better off without the other.

You just don't fucking understand what the hell went wrong.

"I don't love you anymore."

You never knew that a mere sentence that is composed of five words is more than enough to break your heart, your world.

He doesn't love you anymore?

"Since when?" you weakly muttered, wanting answers that will probably hurt you more.

"For the last few months."

You winced, there were no signs of him not loving you. He must be lying, his shaky chocolate orbs say otherwise.

"Okay." you speak, no more energy to fight for him, to fight for a battle that is not worth the blood, sweat, and tears.

Just like that, you watched him walk away. Out of your home, out of your life, and you were left alone. Crying your heart out, gripping your chest as it physically hurts as well, the pain searing through you.

Two weeks later.

Your friend, Yeji, was making a ruckus, she was basically shoving her phone in your face.

"Y/N, look! Isn't this your ex?"

You peeked at the device, and your heart dropped along with your mood.

What the fuck?

That is your only reaction at the photo posted on Seonghwa's instagram because it hasn't been a month, and here he is, with a girl that he's being lovey-dovey with.

A girl.. a familiar one.

"That fucker." you uttered menacingly, your fists tightly clenched on your lap as your friends worriedly glanced at you.

Isn't that the one you asked him about? The fucking girl that was lingering around him all the damn time like a wretched fly. He told she's nothing but a co-worker.

Sure. Kissing your co-worker on the cheeksin a field of maple trees is very professional, isn't it?

You are not sure what to feel. He broke up with you so he could date that girl, it seems.

Should you be thankful? Or should you curse him until he dies?

Either way, now that you're thinking about it, maybe he really didn't fall out of love with you, just that he found someone that he loves more. There was no proof, but there was evidence of his upcoming betrayal.

The way he was always on his phone, and maybe, all the things he had done for you before were nothing but distractions so you wouldn't notice what he was doing behind your back.

A lady's gut never lies, yet you choose to ignore it, and this is what you get.

You laughed yet the tears dripping down your cheeks is the complete opposite of your actions.

Not once did you hear him apologize during the argument about the break-up, and my god, did you hate him so much for entering your life like a storm and leaving such a mess behind.

Park Seonghwa is no cheater, but he is a raging traitor.

Then again, no one is at fault here but you, as you should've seen this coming. You should've been alert, using your rationality instead of your useless heart, and now you're paying the price for his treason.

taglist:

@acciocriativity @iarayara @stolasisyourparent @shakalakaboomboo @xdannix @nsixns

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fictionadventurer · 2 days

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I don't know why this feels like such a revelation, but after watching the latest Moffat episode of Doctor Who, it clicked for me that the core difference between RTD and Moffat Who is that to RTD, the Doctor is God (or a metaphorical substitute for God), while Moffat's Doctor is a man in need of God.

Like, it's obvious RTD deifies the Doctor. The imagery is not subtle. And Moffat's Doctor is obviously a much more fallible man. But I hadn't fully considered how this affects the kinds of stories they tell.

In RTD's Who, the Doctor is someone who comes into a mundane human existence and gives it meaning. An encounter with the Doctor changes your life forever. You would follow him to the end of the universe if he asked, because life with him is infinitely better than life without him. Humans who try to reach the Doctor's level are struck down, because mere mortals cannot rise to the level of godhood. From a Christian perspective, this offers valid storytelling possibilities ("Human Nature/The Family of Blood", with its musings upon the Incarnation, fits perfectly in this era), but it does have the Doctor standing in the place of God, which suggests that the universe of RTD's worldview doesn't have one and needs the Doctor to fill that gap.

In Moffat's Who, on the other hand, the Doctor is a wondrous, impossible, legendary being--but still just a man. He can guide you through some of the best or most terrifying moments of your life--but your life has meaning outside of him. His companions learn over and over again the perils of relying on him too completely. Ordinary people can be just as good--or better--than him, because the Doctor is just another man, growing and changing and trying to find his place in the universe.

Moffat's Doctor is extremely aware that he's in a story--and he is not the author. In "The Doctor Dances" he is aware of how death-filled his stories usually are, and is ecstatically grateful when he is permitted a story where everybody lives. In "Blink", he and Sally are both following a script--but neither one of them wrote it; though they have free will, this story came from outside of them. Of course, these are examples of Moffat's meta exploration of storytelling--but the fact remains that his Doctor exists in a world where there is a greater force that runs everything.

And the Doctor resists this. He remains skeptical, arrogant, independent--but he is always searching for something more.

All this crystallized when watching "Boom". There, the Doctor is facing soldiers in a religious war, and he sneers that they didn't notice anything fishy because they "had faith, which keeps you from ever having to think for yourself." Those are the brutal words of every hackneyed internet atheist, and since the soldiers were wrong to have faith in this war, it seems like the story's saying the Doctor's right, and religion's just the "opiate of the masses".

And yet.

The episode ends with the Doctor telling a little girl to hold onto faith, and when the religious character points out that the Doctor was stridently against faith, the Doctor replies, "Just because I don't like it doesn't mean I don't need it."

Isn't that the Christian experience in a nutshell? How many of us are tempted to think that life would be so much easier if we didn't follow God? And yet we can't leave it aside because we need God. We need meaning outside ourselves, and life with God is better than life without him.

But this isn't the Whedon-ish universe where it doesn't matter if it's true so long as believing does something good for you. There is objective truth, and the Doctor is aware of it. He is aware that love is the most powerful force in the universe. (God is love). He is aware that everyone and everything dies, yet knows that something lingers on. (God is stronger than death). The Doctor is in a world where God exists, and even if he (or his writer) doesn't know it, he needs him, is searching for him, and to some extent, believes in him, because he can't deny these truths that he's seen. And I cannot get over how many different ways Moffat has been exploring these themes all these years.

#doctor who #steven moffat #catholic things #i went to that episode hoping to see the usual themes #but i didn't expect to see them escalated to the ultimate extent #i am going to be thinking about that ending scene for the rest of my life #i know i've always said moffat's who is catholic but this is the first time i've thought the doctor could be catholic

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songsbygumi · 1 day

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Stuck in the puzzle

| Megumi x reader

Summary- There's something about your magnetism that makes Fushiguro Megumi weak at the knees, compelling him to give you all of himself, even if it means exposing his most vulnerable side.

Warnings - angst? to comfort, english is not my first language, no mentions of readers gender or name.

A/N- A/N- This is part of the universe of 'Suck It and See' inspired by Arctic Monkeys' album and Alex Turner's 'Submarine' EP but can be read as a standalone.

It's late when you arrive at Jujutsu High. Your eyes threaten to close at any moment, but you still drag your feet lazily through the dorm hallways, trying to reach your room after one of the most exhausting missions you've ever encountered. Handling missions alone isn't unusual for you, given the constant shortage of sorcerers, but this time even your eyelashes hurt.

You're about to turn the knob on your door when Itadori and Kugisaki come running up to you, shouting something about Fushiguro not leaving his room for two days. You try to catch as much information as you can, but once they finish, you look at them with furrowed eyebrows.

"What?" is all you can manage, watching them hyperventilate. They're about to start talking over each other again, but you quickly intercept. "Please, just one of you explain."

“Fushiguro won’t leave his room after our mission; I don’t think he's eaten since Tuesday night,” Itadori says, his voice full of worry and his mouth twisted into a grimace.

“Can you talk to him or something?” Kugisaki asks you.

You're not entirely sure why they're asking you this. You've only been talking to Fushiguro Megumi for about a month or so. Sure, the nights you spend together watching silly videos are your favorites, and listening to him ramble about things that bother him is always fun, but that doesn't mean the feelings are reciprocated.

“Uhm, I don’t think I am the right person to talk to him. Have you asked Gojo-sensei?” Kugisaki snorts, and you can't help but feel a little foolish after suggesting it.

“Have you met Gojo-sensei?” You can't help but agree with Kugisaki, trying to think of another adult but failing in the process.

“Fine, just let me change,” you say, and they both cheer, relieved that you're willing to help.

You feel uneasy on your feet, your hands fidgeting with the corners of the food box you're holding. Fushiguro’s door stands intimidatingly before you. You glance back at Kugisaki and Itadori, who give you a thumbs up before returning your gaze to the door. Your eyes remain fixed, unable to move.

Kugisaki has had enough. Before Itadori can stop her, she knocks on the door for you and then dashes away, dragging Itadori along with her.

Frozen in terror, you wait for a reaction from the other side of the door, still unconvinced that this is a good idea at all. You like Fushiguro Megumi a little too much to trust yourself around him. There’s one thing about talking to him about bad movies but discussing feelings with him will probably kill you from awkwardness.

“I already told you both to fuck off,” Fushiguro's voice is raspy and angry from the other side, causing you to gulp nervously before speaking.

“Well, you haven’t told me to fuck off, actually,” you reply, raising your voice slightly so he can hear you, gripping the box a little tighter than before.

Inside the room, you hear the sound of movement - closet doors opening and closing a couple of times. You're left waiting, unsure whether to speak again or wait for him to break the silence. Regardless, you can't help but feel uncertain until the door finally opens, revealing Fushiguro standing before you.

For a moment, you admire him, your cheeks flushing as he meets your gaze. But this time, your heart squeezes instead of racing. He looks tired, with dark circles under his eyes, and his skin appears paler. You could swear he even looks skinnier.

“Fushiguro” your voice betrays you, breaking a little.

“Get in” he says, stepping aside to let you enter. You follow him into his room, taking in the impressive collection of vinyl records and books lining the walls, along with a couple of band posters.

He stops in the middle of the room, and you both stand there, exchanging awkward glances. Finally, you extend your arms, offering the box of sushi you ordered an hour ago.

“Itadori mentioned you haven’t eaten,” you say softly, your eyes still scanning him for any signs of wounds.

He takes the box from your hands and settles at his desk. As he opens it, the scent of fish fills the room. You wander around, running your hands over the vinyl collection in silence, while Fushiguro watches you from across the room, slowly eating a sushi roll.

You're unsure how to begin the conversation. Despite the progress you've made lately, Fushiguro Megumi still remains somewhat of a mystery to you. There are times when it feels like there's a distance between you, no matter how close you've become.

“Fushiguro—” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“You can call me Megumi, you know?” he interjects.

You try to maintain your composure, but your attempt fails miserably. He chuckles at your flushed face before returning his attention to his sushi rolls.

“Megumi,” you repeat softly. This time, he's the one caught off guard, choking on a sushi roll. The way his name felt on your lips surprises him; your voice carries such care. You've only said it once, but he's already become addicted to the sound of your voice saying his name.

He's lost in his thoughts for a moment too long, and now you're sitting on the bed in front of him, peering at him with a concerned expression engrave on your face. He can't help but extend his hand, tracing his finger over the furrowed lines between your eyebrows.

“Talk to me,” you urge gently. His heart squeezes a bit, thinking back to the last time someone really cared about him. He can almost see his older sister in his mind, lying in bed helpless. He pulls his hand back from your face, staring down at the floor.

“It's nothing,” he mumbles, picking up his chopsticks and poking at his food absentmindedly before meeting your gaze again.

You gotta stop looking at him like that, because you're totally disarming him, and he's not yet prepared to surrender to you. But you keep staring at him with those mesmerizing eyes of yours, like he's the only one in the room, like nothing else even matters. You hang onto his every word, like he's got the whole universe figured out. And yet, he can't shake the feeling that he doesn't deserve it. He's just a messed-up guy who couldn’t even protect his own sister.

“It’s not nothing when it bothers you, Megumi,” you assert gently.

His eyes betray him, tears spilling down his cheeks. He can't help it when you're being this unfair to him, acting all soft and worried. In the next moment, you're right beside him, wrapping your arms around him as best as you can while he's still in the desk chair. Megumi buries his head in your abdomen, and you gently stroke his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice strained as he rubs his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, but you're uncertain if he's addressing you. “I failed her.” His tears flow harder.

You're utterly perplexed, unsure of what to do. Witnessing Megumi in such a vulnerable state breaks your heart; you never imagined seeing him like this, and the inability to alleviate his pain weighs heavily on you.

“Oh, Gumi,” you murmur softly, continuing to stroke his hair. You swallow the lump in your throat, resisting the urge to let your own emotions overwhelm you.

You remain in that position for an hour, until your legs start to ache and Megumi's tears cease. Neither of you speaks, but he follows you as you move to sit on his bed, leaning against the headboard. He rests his head in your lap, encouraging you to continue playing with his hair.

Outside, the raindrops begin to patter against the windows, filling the room with their soothing sound, lulling you towards sleep.

“You feeling better, Megs?” you inquire, leaning back and closing your eyes, the fatigue from earlier creeping back over you.

"Don't call me that," he states, reverting to his usual demeanor, bringing out a smile from you.

"Why not?" you playfully retort, though your attempt to suppress a yawn is evident. Your hand momentarily halts its movement as the yawn escapes, prompting you to cover your mouth.

Megumi takes the chance to look at you, admiring your face. You're so beautiful and kind to him that he can hardly believe you're real.

"Sounds too girly," he concedes, to which you respond with a soft chuckle.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but it's actually quite a common name for girls," you explain, resuming the gentle strokes with your fingers.

"Yeah, I know. My dad gave me that name for some dumb reason; screw him, wherever he is."

Your eyes meet his, making sure he knows you mean what you're about to say. "I actually love your name," you confess.

"Really?" he queries, his cheeks tinted with surprise.

"Guess it’s not such a bad name after all."

You are the first to fall asleep, fingers tangled in Megumi's hair. Not long after, he too slips into a peaceful rest, silently hoping you'll still be there when he wakes.

#Suck it and see series #moonswrites #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #reader x jjk #jjk drabbles #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #megumi fushiguro imagine #megumi fushiguro #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi #jujutsu megumi #megumi fluff #fushiguro

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yuri-is-online · 1 day

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I really love Sebek and Epel and Deuce

Sebek's Yutu would be a tad hilarious but also kinda sad because his dad MAY OR MAY NOT BE ALIVE because man

Malleus :(

Epel's Yutu tho......

I saw a fic where Epel can use a gun (mentioned in passing) so I'm imagining that while Epel's Yutu is a great farmer just like his dad

He's also got a rifle :)

You have given me a vision... the one thing Epel! Yutu wants... is to be a cowboy. Can you picture a baby who looks a lot like Epel with a little cowboy hat and boots, he'd be so cute. Also, I was having brain rot and decided to introduce one of the friends lovely @archetypal-archivist helped create for Yutu! Please check out their Azul! Yutu posting it's very good and I love it sososo much. Unfortunately this post does not feature Epel riding on a horse, I'll have to fix that sometime. And get back to Sebek later.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. For more fyuutre kid au, please check out the series section of my masterlist.

Yutu's earliest memory is of apples.

His parent had him in a sling as they worked, picking and packing the fruit as they softly hummed a lullaby to soothe his grumpy mood. He never was able to get over how big an orchard could be, even when he was old enough to walk under the trees and play with the other workers children something about that sea of greenery just felt magical. Like if he really focused the outside world would cease to be and he could wake up in a land of nothing but him, Yuu, and the acceptance you can only ever find in nature.

But that's not how things ever went. When he opened his eyes Yuu would pack him up and they would move to follow the harvest until the winters shut things down and it was back to that god awful place Yuu had been born in. He was glad to move away when Yuu found them a permanent place to stay when he turned 10, gladder still for it to be a farm even if it didn't have the orchards he loved so much. The old couple that hired Yuu on were impressed with how deeply the single parent cared for their son, and how eager the son was to to help his parent. It was the perfect set up for an ideal, if difficult, childhood that would nurture Yutu in to a strong young man.

But this isn't the happy family future, it's the bad one. And things were always going to go wrong sooner rather than later.

Mixing things up from the other posts, Yuu feels particularly drawn to farms and farm work when thinking about Yutu's father and ends up crisscrossing their country as a migrant farm worker until they're offered a full time position as a farm hand they happily accept in the hopes of stabilizing Yutu's education. Yutu genuinely loved his childhood and grew up having a deep respect for manual labor and agriculture. He assumes Yuu must have met his father while traveling and had a brief relationship that produced him, but accepts that whatever accident caused Yuu's memory loss will keep him from ever really knowing if that was the case. Yuu impresses on him that his dad was a hard worker with a bit of a temper who never backed down from a challenge. They tease him that he gets his "cute" side from his Pappa, which Yutu likes about as much as Epel probably would.

He's doing his time in the short king mines, Yutu won't hit his growth spurt until around 17 and how tall he gets is from that is up to you, but if he stays short just know he is not happy about it at all. Unless someone brings up the fact he could probably have a career as a professional jockey and then he will maybe think about it as being a blessing. Maybe. Yutu learned to ride pretty early on in life and he loves doing it, but he doesn't really want to race horses. He'd much rather be a cowboy with his own little farm and a family of his own with a big orchard to tend to. He's got big dreams of one day being able to introduce his partner to Yuu and give them a nice place to retire to.

Plays outside by himself a lot. There are some kids at school he befriends, but a lot of their parents are wary about letting their kids hang out with him at his house. Yuu is seen as a bit weird, even if the old couple they work for is well liked most people in town know their kids who really dislike Yuu and Yutu for reasons that escape Yutu but his parent seems to understand. "They think they're protecting their parents." As Yutu grows he thinks it has to be more about money, he and Yuu love working the farm but their kids all have different jobs they got college degrees for so they probably want to sell the land when their parents die. He's right about that last bit of course, and willing to let Yuu give them some charity but he doesn't think they care about their parents near as much as he cares about his. Otherwise they'd at least be nice to someone their parents considered part of the family and not ship their mom off to a nursing home before their dad was even in the ground. Or evict the outcasts they considered part of the family too.

You have no idea what to do as you pack up your few belongings, Yutu can tell that you are stressed and it makes him mad. He tries to focus on helping, taping things up and dragging them out to the beat up car as you listlessly stare at the kitchen sink. After he moves the second box he notices you're not packing anymore and goes to check what's wrong and his instincts begin screaming something's wrong. Your eyes are unfocused, staring down at a framed picture he remembers well.

"Do you ever think about how all of this is my fault?" You sound a world a way and Yutu guesses that you are, the photo of a younger you with a toddler him in a sling under the apple orchards stares back at you both questioning just where is it you plan to go from here. It can't be back on the open road, school is about to start and the entire point of staying here was to make things better for him. Yutu is about to ask you the same thing when he hears the wind pick up, and is that a carriage he hears? "If I hadn't forgotten you, then maybe I could have found a way back..."

"What in the goddamn-" Yutu is cut off by the glass being blown out and he dives on instinct to cover you as the world spins around him.

"I'm real sorry Epel, you don't have to forgive me but... even after all this time. I still love you... I still love you and how sad is that..."

Good news, Yutu doesn't have to sleep and a shitty motel tonight. Bad news, he's in the middle of some fancy private school shit and his parent is flat lining on their floor. He starts screaming bloody murder until Crewel comes and scoops him up and ushers him off to the hospital wing where they have a very tense conversation. Yes, he does belong here actually he was supposed to have been born in this world with it's magic, monsters, and annoying private school uniforms he finds himself shoved into and marched back out to that fuck ass mirror to hear what dormitory he belongs in. The fuck is a Pom-e-fee-or and why does that girl with the 2000s throwback hairstyle look like she wants to kill him for asking that?

That girl is the Vice Warden of his new house and she absolutely hates him on sight. Like, she's heard about Epel before, duh who hasn't? He performed in the VDC with the Vil Schoenheit and he had like a fun Magicam account where he promoted his family's apple farm. Didn't Yuu tell him anything about that? Ugh guess she'll have to do it and hey why is hE RUNNING AWAY DOES ELEGANCE MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?!?!?! WHERE IS YOUR POMEFIORE DIGNITY YUTU DON'T THINK SHE CAN'T CATCH YOU BECAUSE SHE'S GOT HEELS ON BITCH!!!

It's exactly where Epel's Pome Pride was when he first joined to dorm, down a drain someplace because Yutu thinks his dorm is the pits. Growing up like he did made him starkly aware of just how different people with money see people like him and instilled a deep hatred of people who make their personality their skincare routine. He thinks the way rich people spend their money is boring and hates that his dorm mates are spending their precious time in a literal apocalypse doing their make up and hair. His Vice Warden is irritated with him and asks what he does then when he can't control the circumstances around him and Yutu goes to snap back at her but finds he doesn't really have an answer.

"Have you even tried taking care of yourself before?" Peyton is looking over his hair in genuine disgust, it's different than the resting bitch face she usually has. Yutu has seen enough of both to be able to tell the difference now.

"I mean I don't not take care of it." Because Yuu had tried to get him to do things like a skincare routine before, and come to think of it they had phrased the reasoning much like Peyton is now. Take good care of yourself. His Vice Warden rolls her eyes and turns towards her vanity, the amount of homemade products and their labels immediately tells him they aren't all for her hair type.

"Yeah but you don't do it well. Look I'm not crazy about bougie stuff either but like, you just feel so much better when you put the effort into yourself and not what other people say about you." She hesitates before meeting his eyes in the mirror and adding. "Trust me, I'd know." And Yutu believes her.

It has got to be hard being a vocaloid stan in a dorm with a literal ballroom.

Yutu really does belong in Pomefiore. He's great with alchemy and magical plants, just like his dad Crewel is all to happy to tell him. They talk a bit about his dad and the situation in the Shaftlands, how no one has heard from Epel since the blot took over and it's insanely difficult to get anywhere near there since the Phantom Hunter makes your life a living hell if you try. Most people think he's dead, but Crewel isn't so sure. He thinks that the various communities across Mt. Moln could easily sustain themselves if they barricaded against the blot monsters, but they also don't have a lot of mages so actually defending themselves could be difficult. Then again this does mean that the stronger phantoms would be less interested, so who knows. In the climate of the day though it is probably best to brace for the worst.

The sports clubs still exist in a less intense manner than before to give people different ways to relax and things to do. Since Yutu loves horses he tried the equestrian club out before deciding it was way too "fussy" and settling in to the board game club since he never really had enough friends to actually play them with before. It's a lot of fun to compare all the ways these games are similar to ones he knows about from Yuu's world and yet completely different. It helps nurse his sadness over losing Yuu since they were the only one who ever played these sorts of games with him and he has fond memories of how they totally never let him win.

He takes a great deal of comfort in knowing his dad had similar struggles with his dorm placement and is overjoyed to learn about the family farm! He wishes he was there right now and drives Peyton absolutely bonkers telling her all about the tests he's run on the soil around campus, how he thinks blot might effect plant growth, and the ways he can think of to combat it. She's crying please just go talk to the Ignyhide kids they totally care about that stuff probably! His lectures end up being useful when they're finally unable to avoid going out on missions any longer as understanding the signs of heavy pollution makes the stronger phantoms easier to track.

It's a realization Epel has also had, secluded in his little village as he is. Harveston has heavily fortified it's position and bulked up it's population with the survivors of other surrounding communities. They have been gifted the ability to endure, but Epel doesn't know if their community will survive long term unless the phantoms are dealt with. The surviving members of his family from the Queendom told awful stories when they retreated here, if that's what's going on in the rest of the world he imagines S.T.Y.X. is probably involved so he tries to keep his eyes peeled for anything like their tech. He manages to find a busted drone in the snow one day and brings it home to work on it whenever he gets a spare moment. It helps him ignore his grief over losing Yuu, his child, and contact with all of his friends. When he's focused on not breaking the drone further, he can convince himself he's either worked through that already or that once he fixes it he will have everyone he lost back at home with him where they belong.

Unit 7954 cackles back to life with a stream of what sounds like a stream of curse words, but Idia has certainly never heard any of them before. He knows that joyful cackle though and he thinks he must have stayed up too long again because he as to be hallucinating. There is no way he's actually looking at Epel, but the whooping before he shyly calms himself down reassures him he is. The two frantically talk about the situation in the Shaftlands and the number of survivors before Idia smacks himself and remembers to mention Yutu's existence. Epel falls off his chair in surprise at the news and Idia is worried he's killed the man before he hears his sobbing. Breaking through the front lines of the Fairest Queen might be impossible, but a video call now that Epel has fixed the drone isn't and Ortho is nice enough to set one up.

"Sevens yer big." Yutu feels like he's 10 feet tall when he hears the drawl of his father's voice. "Bigger than I was at yer age I reckon." The man is certainly taller than him, with lavender waves he's tied neatly back to let him see better under his thick winter clothing. His smile is so warm and friendly Yutu wishes he could dive through the screen and be there with him right this instant. "'s ok if ya don't know where to start with the questions, I bet you got a bunch."

"Why'd you marry Yuu?" It's not what he expected to ask first. He wanted to talk about school, or ask something practical like tips about finding his unique magic or fighting monsters. But that was what he really wanted to know wasn't it? Why Yuu was so important, if he was important to this man and his different accent even after all these years. And the happy smile that relaxes his father screams that he is, it's as if he's shed years of stress and suffering just thinking about his parent.

"Be easier to list the reasons I didn't like them since there aren't any." Epel closes his eyes and thinks about that first moment he realized how much he liked you, tucked away studying in the library and bickering about how to do an assignment as he wondered why you were even there and if you thought he was cool at all. "Since Yuu was from another world a lot of us felt like they deserved a good home here, but that just meant I wanted to invite them over for the summer and stuff like that. Didn't mean I wanted to spend the rest of my life with them, that's what I thought at first anyway. But well, you know Yuu pretty well. They always somehow know where the good lies in even the worst of people. Or at least they knew where it was in me and made sure to believe in it right up until the last day I saw them." They both quiet at the thought of that, Yutu wondering if he should push further before Epel quietly adds. "I hope you know they'd be stupid proud of you for everything. Pomefiore isn't an easy dorm to be a part of but if you put in the work you'll really thrive there, and the both of us really believe you've got what it takes to do that yeah? If you'll let me speak on their behalf anyway."

"Of course you can." Yutu does his best not to cry, but Epel can tell it isn't going to work. "You- you miss them too after all." And isn't that the truth.

The plan to go back in time is decided on before the blockade around Harveston can be breached. Epel gives Yutu as much information as he can about the past and what to expect before he goes, making him promise to hug the younger him at least once in the hopes the memory will somehow flow across time and he'll get a taste of what it's like to hold his son before he sends him off with a "good luck" and "kick their ass!" Even though neither of them fully know who is responsible just yet.

Epel! Yutu has an easier time adjusting to the past than a lot of the other Yutu's thanks to Epel's descriptions of people like- well mostly just his description of Rook. He still comes off as weird but in an endearing way as opposed to an "I need to run for my existence literally" type of way. Unfortunately his dad might have buried the memory of just how in his feelings and jealous he got about Yuu pre relationship. He's rolling his eyes and ignoring everything Yutu says because he wants to monopolize your attention and Yutu is honestly kind of living for it. He thinks it's super cool that his dad is willing to fight for Yuu's affections even though he could be considered to have no chance. He's short, more "cute" than he is "hot," and poor by a lot of people's standards. Sure, Yutu loves the farm life and Yuu must have to raise him in it but if that isn't how you grew up he's super surprised you chose Epel. Surprised and grateful because Yutu really loves his dad.

That love gets through to Epel somewhat, he's super confused as to why the new guy thinks he's so cool AND why he wants to complain about it. Isn't that what he wants? To be seen as cool, strong, and reliable? Well sure but he wants you to see him that way more than anything, it'd make him so happy if he had your approval. He's happy to have your friendship but- well it would just be nice to have you around forever. He's going to miss you when you go back to your world.

Yutu considers re joining the board games club to get close to Idia, but sees Azul and moonwalks his way out of there in a move that definitely doesn't put him on either of their radars and announces to Yuu that he will be starting a book club instead. He does this so he has a reasonable excuse to spend a bunch of time in the library and request access to various archives but Sebek joins since it meets once a week on Saturdays and railroads it into being like. An actual book club. They have other members too and Yutu hates it because he isn't super fond of wasting his time reading things unrelated to his mission but some of the stuff Sebek recommends is good he guesses.

Yutu thinks he's doing a good job of flying under the radar of suspicion, and to be fair Epel and Yuu are a bit too caught up in each other to notice the stranger things about Yutu but Sebek is not and convinces them to surveil where he goes after the book club meetings. Grim is on board just because he's tired of watching Epel and Yuu make heart eyes at each other and he thinks he can get tuna out of it so they make a day of it. It turns out Yutu goes to Craneport every weekend without fail to meet up with... someone. He goes to an apartment building and it would be a bit too obvious if they followed him in there without more evidence (Yuu has to be the one to point this out because you know Sebek and Epel are ready to charge.) So they keep this up for a couple of weeks until one day Yutu cancels the book club meeting and leaves campus early. This time he heads towards the mines Yuu explored with Ace and Deuce for the mage stone that second night they were at NRC. There are several people there, and Yutu does something he's never done, not even around Yuu who he has described as a friend. He lets down his hood.

The shock of lavender that tumbles out from the hood has all three of you tripping over yourselves to cover your mouths. His facial expressions, mannerisms, and even the way he goes the pull his hair screams that he has to be related to Epel. He's admitted to being from your world, and the way he speaks, the shape and color of his eyes and the way he laughs have to come from you. Sebek isn't able to keep it in any more as he starts crying, then loudly denying he's crying, congratulating you on your marriage since you are a friend of the young master before yelling at Yutu for acting in a manner that could have brought dishonor to his parents.

All of this scares the phantom Yutu's friends were hunting out of hiding and forces everyone to fight it. Yutu is extremely flustered from Sebek's scolding but he is nowhere near as embarrassed as Epel who immediately starts taking it out on the phantom and cussing up a storm. It's one of the quicker fights Yutu has had with a blot monster, and he isn't really complaining when Epel drags him and Yuu into the Dwarf's Cottage for a chat.

"So I'm yer Pa, Yuu's m' spouse and ya didn't think to spit that out 'fer you went fighting shit fucks BECAUSE?" Epel is steaming mad, he's almost as red as Riddle which Yutu would be impressed by if he wasn't so embarrassed.

"Um. Cause I didn't think you would-"

"YER GODSDAMNED RIGHT I WOULDN'TA BELIEVED YA! At first anyway." Normal, or would it be fake? Neither Yutu supposes, calm Epel is back as he crosses his arms and really looks at him. "You look like me, and you sound like them. I bet there's things you can tell me about myself you'd have no way of knowing otherwise so why bother hiding yourself? Don't you want my help?"

"Our help." You speak up immediately and Epel nods, affirming what you said slightly embarrassed he let his insecurities forget that you were here too for a moment. Yutu doesn't answer immediately, instead he looks very firmly at the ground as if he would rather be anywhere else than admit what he's about to.

"... not if it means you both die. I- I don't think I can watch that happen again." And oh seven does that change the tone of the conversation, because what does he mean by again?

Yutu refuses to answer until he gets to hug Epel. He expects it to be awkward, but it isn't at all. His dad squeezes him so tightly Yutu is sure his future self has got to feel it as he slowly lays out his story about the bad future and how he thinks it got to be there. About growing up in Yuu's world and the pain of watching you die. Epel is mad as hell to hear about it and swears it won't happen and is halfway out the door before he even has time to process it. Everyone brings Sebek up to speed, who insists on informing the young master immediately; something everyone agrees is a good course of action given how Briar Valley was the first place they know of being effected.

Malleus is delighted that everyone agreed to invite him on their secret mission, but also deeply disturbed by what hears. As Briar Valley's King, it is his responsibility to make sure nothing like Yutu is describing happens for no other reason than it would harm his subjects, but he can't help but be personally insulted that whoever did this would rob his human friend of their happiness too. The only re-payment he requests is that when (not if) he saves the future that Epel and Yuu invite him to the wedding, baby shower, christening, and any other important milestone they have in their lives. It's an easy enough thing to agree to Epel thinks. He has the approval of Ace and Deuce already, so to have Malleus announce he accepts him as your man too? That's all of the family you've collected in this world so... it's not too much trouble to ask you to join his, right? He won't be tricked this time, promise. You will walk this life hand in hand until the eternal sleep takes you both, and that won't happen until Yutu is practically an old man himself. And you of all people should know what Epel can do when he sets his mind to it; he got you to fall in love with him after all, didn't he?

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #epel felmier x reader #future kid au #peyton to me is the mean older sister from an early 2000s disney channel show/movie #like #she's mean but she does ok maybe sort of care :/#she'll loan you her good lip gloss for a date and then help you hide the body if your bf turns out to be shit #and other just girly things like that you know?#ty so much to archivist for coming up with her and letting me use her #i love all their ocs to pieces

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