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hwajin · 4 months

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☆°. — ᴋɪss ᴇs

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hyunjin x afab!reader

𝐰𝐜: 3.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: oral (afab receiving), very soft, lots of tension

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: something sweet for valentines day!! it's a bit rushed, hope you enjoy it nontheless <33

You lay sprawled across the bed, a book in hand. You had no blanket on you, yet you felt warm, and a heavy weight was pressing you down; Hyunjin was snoring softly against the sensitive crook of your neck, working far better than any weighted blanket you could acquire. His arms, lanky and long, were snaked around you, tightly, holding you so close that you almost didn’t believe that he was sleeping, that he was only pretending so you wouldn’t shoo him off. Not that you ever would, in the first place; you enjoyed being crushed beneath his weight far too much to ever deny his affection and love.

One hand of yours was tangled in his hair, massaging his scalp — you figured it was the very thing which has put him into his semi-deep slumber in the first place, so you only stopped it when necessary, after finishing a page and turning to the next one. Hyunjin's soft grunts of protest never went unnoticed; you huffed in amusement every time your fingers untangled from his messy locks and he sighed out in tired disagreement, before sounding entirely content again the moment your hands found themselves deep in his locks again. It was endearing. You thought you could find eternal happiness right then, right there.

It must have been several minutes, and you were twenty-something pages further in your book when the man stirred, suddenly, without a reason — you were but a statue beneath his body, not moving even an inch to not disturb, to not wake. Yet he stirred, moved around atop your body; his face buried further into your neck, tickling you, his breath hot and intoxicating, burning on your skin. He hummed, arms tightening around you - if possible - and he looked up at you. He was awake, though he didn't look it. His hair was an adorable mess, falling over his eyes and standing to all directions, his eyes barely open and puffy, only a little, and his left cheek wore the imprint of your shirt he had laid on. Endearing. You thought you could find eternal beauty if you as much as looked at him. Even minutes after waking up.

You giggled, softly, your hand still in his hair, still massaging.

"Hi."

He huffed out amusement at that, closing his eyes to bask in your antics at his hair, leaning into your hand, fully at peace. He hummed again, in satisfaction now, in pleasure, and it sent a shock of electricity throughout every fibre of your body. He must have noticed, must have sensed you tensing up, and he smiled - not in malice, simply acknowledging. A shiver ran down your spine then.

"You're still reading, huh?"

Hyunjin's voice sounded quietly through the room, almost melodic, harmonizing with the birdsong outside. It didn't disturb the silence, only added to the atmosphere, leisure, lazy, loving. You nodded at his question, continued massaging the skin in his nape, hummed, then, affirmatively. There was a lot of humming in the room, sighs and huffs instead of words, for words seemed, almost, too heavy; and you understood each other without.

Hyunjin's face buried into your neck again - though not without a plan this time, not to merely rest. He kissed the skin there, softly, patient. Slow. As though dragging out his movements would make the moment last forever. He kissed, open-mouthed kisses, wet kisses, loud kisses, stingy kisses; he couldn't help but bite down on you every other moment, not a lot, enough only to show purest affection, most primal desire.

Your skin was sensitive. You were shivering in his hold, you were shivering at the feeling of the warmth his breath glazed over your neck. He was holding you close, his hands exploring the expanse of your back; though barely noticeable. He was barely even moving his hands, so slow you weren't sure he was at all, until you noticed them laying elsewhere, suddenly - close to your neck, then the small of your back, then wrapping around your shoulders from behind. Always pulling you closer. Always keeping you near, as much as physically possible. You moaned out quietly, softly, barely even audible, but it dizzied him, and Hyunjin bit down against the back of your ear with more fervour than before. You mewled, and you felt him smile against your skin.

When he spoke his next words, his voice was muffled, absorbed almost entirely by your body.

"Read for me. Out loud… please."

You chuckled, not less because the words against your skin sent tickles down the entirety of your body. Hyunjin, despite his wish, stayed buried in your neck; he was nibbling at the lobe of your ear now, kissing there a second after, listening to the way your breath hitched in your throat. He wasn't making a move to separate from you - you tried shoving him off, giggling softly in the process.

"You need to let me... actually read, then"

Your voice was quiet, amused, and followed momentarily by a sigh of pleasure. Hyunjin licked at the goosebumps on your neck, right where it connected to the shoulder; your favourite spot, the most sensitive one. He hummed out in disagreement, didn't as much as raise his head to answer you.

"Just read. While I...", he traced off, kissed your shoulder, touched your waist, squeezed your hips; he looked up at you with puppy eyes, and you nearly lost it all, "...do this..." More kisses to your body; seemingly, he wanted to cover every possible inch of you in traces of his love. If to mark you his, or to remind himself of having you, you weren't sure, but you loved it all the same.

So you read. With his lips on your body, distracting you embarrassingly from the words you tried to make sense of. They didn't quite, and after having read an entire page you lost sight of the plot, entirely. What you never lost sight of, never lost feeling about was Hyunjin's body on your own, his melting into yours. He was consistent, determined, almost. It was pathetic how often your voice trembled and shook when his lips met your body anew; you ought to be used to it already, now that his kisses had reached the expanse of your chest, your collarbones, now that he nibbled right below your shoulders - yet you weren't. You hissed every time his mouth swallowed you whole, every time his wet lips came in contact with an additional inch of your body. You would never get used to it, would never grow tired of him.

You read, and he kissed. Kissed your body away, not leaving a spot of yours undoted. And his hands were sinful. They were wandering, exploring your body while you tried not to lose hold of the book with your own trembling fingers. You tried to keep your composure, tried to be coy when Hyunjin's nimble, cold fingers, far too long for his own good, far too sensual, unclipped the first button of your sleepwear. You stopped reading when he opened the next one - though the man merely looked at you from below his lashes, eyes dark and blown out, urging you on to continue while another kiss met your body. You blinked, once, twice, five times, watching him cover your chest in kisses and love-bites, in spit and hushed confessions. You watched him open another button - at that point your chest lay entirely in the nude, your lack of underwear always delighting the man, and the little bit of stomach Hyunjin had exposed was covered momentarily in his mouth. You watched him, long forgotten the literature in your hands; and then he stopped. Suddenly stopped sucking on your skin, licking and biting on it, easing it with kisses instantly. He stopped moving his hands along your body, too - he looked up at you, expectantly, waiting. You watched him, and he only reciprocated your gaze.

"Read."

Not a command, yet his voice was but a whisper, and it sent thousand shivers to your core. They ran all across your body, the shivers, painting you in goose flesh before they collected right between your legs, right where the man’s body was laying, right where you needed him, right where he was miles away from, seemingly. He wouldn't give in too easily. You knew him - he would drag it out, he would wait on you to continue reading, which, stupidly, you were oh so unable to do, with him all around you, and he wouldn't give you what you craved for before he'd complete his travel on your body, before his lips had tasted every inch of you excessively.

So you continued reading. Shakily, your voice trembling, though you couldn't be embarrassed by it, not when seconds later you felt Hyunjin's lips on your skin again, seemingly satisfied. He had reached your stomach, left wet patches where his mouth met, left love-bites. Left smirks, too; you could feel his amusement on your body whenever your breath hitched in your throat, whenever you restarted a sentence because your voice had trailed off to sighs of frustration. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed that you enjoyed it.

It must have been ages until he had opened all buttons on the flimsy pyjama top you were wearing. You were squirming by then, impatient, intoxicated, needing. Hyunjin lay between your thighs, his face now levelled with your lower tummy, with your core. His arms were snaked around your thighs, holding you close - so close you thought he was scared that you'd slip away if he let go for only a second, but you didn't mind it. You felt his hot breath on your skin, his hotter mouth on the plush of your stomach, the cold breeze against your hardening nipples. Your senses overwhelmed, and Hyunjin wasn't making it easy on you, either; he continued kissing, continued licking, never stopped biting at your body, doting on all his favourite parts, caressing all your favourite spots. He knew you inside and out, he knew the sensitivity of your inner thighs, he knew you enjoyed feeling his breath fawn over it before he gave it a kiss - so he did just that, and he smiled to himself when you mewled out his name. You couldn't keep reading. It was impossible for you to.

"Hyun..."

Your voice was quiet, as though shy; it was needy, too, and if Hyunjin wasn't so focused on basking in your pleasure, he'd blow right then and there. He'd lose his mind over the way your thighs tensed with every kiss he planted there, how your body squirmed when he neared your core, only to pull away again and lick and kiss near your knees. He almost whimpered out in bashful satisfaction at the way you stopped reading, entirely, to call out his name, to let your hands search for his hair, to pull on it slightly when you found it moments later - he lost himself in everything you were, in everything he loved about you.

Though he could keep his composure, just enough. Seemingly mirically, because his body was reacting to your own like flames, igniting one another and impossible to put out. He was as hot as you felt, as intoxicated, just as needing.

"You gotta keep reading, babe."

Another kiss to your inner thighs, an open-mouthed one, a wet one. He was determined to drive you insane.

You whimpered, huffed out in what sounded like amusement. Hyunjin looked up at you, his mouth never breaking contact with your skin. He watched your closed eyes, the way you relished in the feeling of him, the way you were asking for more, silently, wordlessly. The way your body was pleading, the way he could read it without you saying as much as a word about it. He continued kissing, waiting for an answer. He moved slow, giving attention to every inch of your body before he even thought of moving on.

"Feels so good, though."

He trembled at your words. He shivered at the shake of your voice, at the sigh that followed it. He wanted you, he needed you, always. He would never grow sick of it. He would never grow sick of you. You lay there before him, and you wanted him. You lay there so vulnerable for him, and only him. You lay there, and were so honest about your pleasure, pleasure only he could give you; Hyunjin would never grow tired of the way you loved him.

Though, mirically, he continued keeping his composure. Witchcraft, surely, because you were irresistible, having pulled him in entirely, long ago.

"I know... wanna hear you read to me, though."

Your sigh of frustration was music to his ears. The scent of your clothed core, your scent, the feeling of the plush of your thighs, your bare chest, your tortured expression, your fingers in the depth of his hair - it was his death sentence.

"C'mon."

So you continued reading. Because you knew him enough to know he was patient - though, barely, just enough - to not give into you too fast, only to relish in you more. You continued reading, and every further word of yours made him move closer to your core. Shaky words, trembling words, though you made it through one sentence, then through another. And Hyunjin's mouth was closer, and closer, and closer to where you needed him so very urgently.

It must have been ten sentences when his fingers fanned over your waist, the part where your underwear cut into your flesh. He toyed with the elastic band, let it wrap around his fingers, only teased to take it off though never did. Not for another minute, not for another two. He stopped entirely when you stopped reading; only when you picked it up again he continued his ministrations. After a moment or two, Hyunjin pulled down your underwear, though only enough to expose a bit of your pubic bone. You hissed, voice fading almost into nothingness, though you kept reading until a kiss of his met your skin. You hissed again, then, and you were ready to kill him for the past thirty minutes of teasing, and doting, and malice, and loving. You needed him, and you weren’t sure how much longer your patience could hold out.

Hyunjin kissed your thighs. He didn’t leave your core forgotten, though – his mouth sucked onto the plushest part of your inner leg, right below your sex, and his fingers tangled into the waistband of your white, lacen panties, his favourite pair, to take them off you, slowly. If you hadn’t been quick enough, or attentive enough, or far too hyperaware of every of his movement, you wouldn’t have as much as noticed how you, excruciating moments later, lay before him in the nude, almost entirely – only your pyjama top adorning you, though it was barely enough to leave anything to the imagination. And Hyunjin yet took his time, yet didn’t give into you – you weren’t sure how he did it. You were exposed, you were vulnerable; though he acted like you weren’t, for a while longer. His lips painted most frustrating picture on your thighs, travelling to the hollow of your knees – slowly, relishing in your squirming, basking in the way your skin felt against his, as you relished in the way his hands accompanied his lips’ journey along your heated body. You were hot, very much so; Hyunjin ignited you with every touch, with every kiss, with every lick of his sinful tongue – he ignited you, even, with a gaze, eyes so lewd and speaking you didn’t know what was harder; looking straight into them or keeping track of your reading.

And it was when you lost your patience altogether, entirely, finally, that he did, too. It was a mewl, barely a whisper, even; you were surprised Hyunjin heard the weak call of his name in the first place, the plead in your voice, the longing. And it wasn’t a second after that his lips, the ones that had been tracing your body for seeming hours, for and eternity, that had covered you in spit and love and longing and passion, finally connected with your wetness. You were dripping, practically, his tireless teasing having egged you on far more than you were brave to admit. You felt Hyunjin kiss against your clit, lick it right after only to elicit a moan from you – it was embarrassing, how fast you were reacting to him and his body, how very little your composure held; but then again, you were hypersensitive. Had been, ever since he’d opened that first button, ever since a first kiss had fluttered over your body in a manner so loving it pulled at your heart.

Hyunjin’s hands were wrapped around you again, your own – book long forgotten and discarded somewhere next to you – tangled tightly in his hair. With every pull he moaned, groaned deeply into your pussy, and with every of his sound your body jolted, and vibrations set off in the entirety of your body. And he noticed, too, for he never made attempts to quiet down.

The sounds of your pleasure echoed through the room in harmony. The melodies of your names created a symphony, topped off with the lewd noise of his lips against your sex. He was making out with it, was sucking on your clit, kissing it, licking it, sucking it again. He was breathing you in, he was inhaling you entirely; as though wanting to make you his, wanting to annihilate your body with his own, to make one out of two, to melt together for eternity, as though a candle standing too close to the other. And you lost yourself at his passion. You were squirming, screaming, almost, his name, pleads, his name again. You weren’t sure you knew any other words that moment, your own name, even; he was everything you thought of, his tongue now lying flat against your slit and licking in thick stripes the only thing your mind was occupied with. All attempts of keeping your composure were long forgotten; you couldn’t possibly if he made you feel this way, when shocks of fire and electricity shot through your body with every squeeze his hands granted your thighs, and you didn’t want to, in the first place. You didn’t want to keep your composure. You didn’t want to try and not lose yourself in him; because you knew him enough to know he wanted you entirely, in honesty. And you knew him enough to know he lost himself within you all the same.

It wasn’t until two of his fingers teased your entrance, while his tongue flicked across your clit that your body started trembling. As though it was lain in ice suddenly, shaking against your lover who wasn’t giving you a chance to catch your breath. He inserted two digits into your warmth, smiled against your clit at the way you clenched around him momentarily. A soul-ripping whine left your throat then, and your fingers dug into the man’s scalp – it was bound to hurt, though he liked it. He would never not.

And Hyunjin yet moved slow. He didn’t move his fingers, even, for several moments after filling you with them; he kept them still, felt you wiggling around in search of friction. Only after you cried out his name, in obvious frustration, which, anew, made him smile against your sex, his hand started moving. Sensually, patiently, pumping in, then out, then in, then out again – before he curled his long, cold fingers up, and caressed that gooey spot within you. It was too easy, too thoughtless for him. A second nature, almost, the way he knew your body. Almost better than his own.

And you cried out again. You felt Hyunjin pump against your spot, over and over and over until your body felt in flames entirely, until you ignited him with them, until his own desire took over his body, made him feral. He fastened his pace now, sucked a little harsher, cursed a little louder, kissed a little harder. Against your clit, against your heat, against your very vulnerability, the one only he had access to. The one you only ever gifted him – and then you came, when his free hand pulled you closer to his body, tightly around your thigh and groping at your flesh, when the sensitivity tip-toed on the verge of being too much. You came in waves, stormy and urgent, entirely overwhelming. Your body shook, your voice was loud, your eyes were shut so close you saw stars against the darkness; and Hyunjin held you through it. Held you close, held you near to him, as though you’d disappear if he didn’t. As though he almost succeeded in merging your body with his own, in connecting your very souls to one.

And maybe he did. Maybe your body was his own, and maybe his was yours. And maybe your souls had been one and the same the very moment he had first longed for you, had first loved you; had first let his lips dance upon your skin, had first kissed you.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

#hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios

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shilohta · 2 months

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You can get yourself any textile, bring any craft from the dead if you like, any fiber arts etc from any time period brand new and bespoke for you. What are you choosing and why?

Oohohoho, I'm commissioning a pair of sprang leggings.

Stretchy, warm, flashy colours and patterns!

I heard about sprang in the first couple of weeks of my fibre arts course and never found an excuse to explore it more. Obviously I'm free to do research and play around myself, but it's the sort of obscure niche fibre art that's hard to find good information. Carol James has been researching it since the 90s and I'm hunting for some of her books. (The picture above is from the advertising for an online zoom talk by Carol James)

I love the geometric patterns. The method of making sprang is fascinating. (What do you MEAN it's like weaving with only warp threads? Creating mirror-image twists that meet in the middle, and if the middle seam gives out goodbye to all your work?! And what I've read about creating patterns, especially where the two halves are different like the striped legs and patterns above, it hurts my brain. Indistinguishable from witchcraft)

I'm very aware that there's a vast multitude of cool and/ or lost fibre arts that I could have chosen, but I don't need obscenely fancy status marker fashions (thinking of goldwork embroidery) and I don't want to claim something from a culture that I have no connection to (Pacific barkcloth... I just want to know how it feels). And sprang has been in the back of my mind for so long, waiting to spring out.

Bonus if I get sprang leggings made with medieval wool that isn't itchy!

#thank u for coming to my ted talk on sprang #I don't know much about it myself but I can point the way to better resources #sprang #fibre arts

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lupinmoonlight · 3 months

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Hi! Could you write an alpha prof!remus x omega reader in heat. He gets her to his office after lessons to offer help and she agrees to spend the night( breeding kink)

Masterlist AO3

Alpha, please.

Summary - You are an omega about to experience her first heat. Professor Lupin offers to help and you end up getting railed in the Shrieking Shack (3,416 words).

Warnings - teacher/student relationship, omega verse, alpha!remus, omega!reader, breeding kink, unprotected sex, dubious consent because reader not very in control, age gap, my grammar (english is not my first language), not proof read.

Notes - Throwing this here and RUNNING AWAY. I am SO sorry for the delay, I was hit by a bus (jk lol i'm just burnt out). On a serious note, this was my first time ever writing something in the Omegaverse. Sorry if it sucks :( Thank you to everyone for your patience. I will eventually get to your request!

He noticed your scent before noticing you- a wave of pure, unadulterated omega scent that struck him like a physical blow, a visceral assault on his senses. The classroom, usually a blend of various scents, was now entirely dominated by this scent. Your scent, one of an omega on the cusp of her first heat yet blissfully unaware of it but one that Remus, an alpha, sensed with every fibre of his being. It was rich, sweet, intoxicating, awakening a primal need he had learned to control years ago. An almost uncontrollable need to own, to mark, to protect, to make his.

As an alpha, the presence of an unclaimed omega, especially one as evidently oblivious to their own nature as you, was concerning. Why were you there without suppressants? How could you not know what was about to happen to you? It was dangerous. Both for you and for any other alpha around, yet there you were, looking as calm and serene as if it were just another day.

You took a seat at the front of the class, your eyes glued to him. He was tall, commanding, exuding the authority and confidence of an alpha and you hated to admit how much it drew you in. Deep down, you were not interested in following the traditional roles of your status. You didn't want to submit to anyone. The thought alone filled you with dread...except right now.

The class began and Remus found himself incapable of focusing on his carefully prepared lecture, distracted by the powerful need for something he didn't even allow himself to entertain. It was like all his senses were heightened. He could hear everything, feel everything. Too much.

The lecture drew to a close, and you began to slowly pack up your belongings, your mind unconsciously reluctant to part from your professor. He made you feel so-

"Y/N, may I have a word with you before you leave?" Remus asked. His voice was calm but it held an underlying urgency that he hoped you wouldn't notice.

You looked up to him, your eyes wide and innocent, and in that moment, it felt like you would've done anything this man asked you. What was wrong with you?

"Yes, Professor Lupin?"

He cleared his throat, attempting to appear casual.

"Y/N, I... uh, I need to discuss something somewhat personal with you, and I apologize for the discomfort," he began.

Your brows knitted in confusion, your posture tense. "Something personal, Professor?"

He paused, gathering his thoughts, carefully selecting his next words. "I've noticed...that is, I've sensed...that you might be approaching a significant time that's inherent to your nature as an omega."

Your expression shifted from confusion to embarrassment, unsure where he was going with this. "I- I'm not sure to understand, Professor... what do you mean?"

Remus hesitated, his instincts as an alpha to protect and take charge clashing with his respect for you and your autonomy. "It seems that uh... you're about to experience your first heat, Y/N. It's a critical time for an omega, and it can be very dangerous if you're not prepared or aware."

Your eyes widened, your embarrassment escalating into fear. "My first heat? But... I- I didn't know... I thought I had more time before... before that happened," you admitted shyly.

Remus nodded, trying to appear comforting despite the turmoil raging within him. "It's unpredictable at times, especially the first one," he assured you. "It's imperative that you have a safe place and proper care during this period, especially considering that... well I assume, considering you haven't been on any suppressants."

You looked away, uncomfortable. "No... no I haven't."

"That's okay. That's why I'm offering to help. I can provide a safe place for you, ensure that you have what you need to get through this safely. It's not ideal... but I cannot, in good conscience, let you face this alone."

You suddenly wanted this very much, despite your habit of fighting your inner nature at every turn- no. You were not going to be a weak, vulnerable omega who needed an alpha to protect her. You could manage. You would manage. This was no big deal.

"I can handle it myself, Professor," you said, trying to sound confident but failing pretty miserably.

"I understand, but I assure you, my intentions are solely to offer protection and support. I wouldn't suggest this if there weren't a genuine need."

At that moment, you weren't sure if he was just very good at being persuasive, or if your pathetic omega nature begged you to bend to his "protection".

"Are you sure?" the question coming out more as a challenge.

"Yes, I am. It's my responsibility as your professor and as an alpha to ensure you're safe," he affirmed.

"O-okay, fine."

"Just come to my quarters at the end of the day. I'll have everything prepared for you. We'll make sure you're as comfortable and safe as possible," he instructed and this time, his tone was firm, leaving no room for you to argue back.

You simply nodded and made your way out of the classroom. The conversation had left you disoriented. Your lifelong determination to maintain independence and resist alpha authority was now clashing with an inexplicable trust in your professor.

You had never expected your first heat to come so suddenly. You thought there would be signs to prepare you, like most other omegas. But no. It was just there. And what was more embarrassing was that it wasn't you who found out first. It was an alpha. And your professor, at that.

You seriously considered not going to his quarters that night. Not because you were scared or didn't trust him, but just for the shame you felt. That shame, however, was quickly overshadowed by fear. You knew what could happen to unclaimed omegas who were in heat and who didn't take suppressants. Not all alphas were as kind as Remus. Some of them were vile predators ready to pounce on the first vulnerable omega they smelled. Somehow, you knew- rather inherently felt, that Remus wasn't like that.

Swallowing your pride, you made your way to Professor Lupin's quarters, your stomach an absolute mess from the strange blend of anxiety and odd sense of security.

Remus was already out by the door, a small bag in hand, a gentle smile, albeit somewhat anxious, expression gracing his face.

"Thank you for coming, Y/N. I know this must be overwhelming," he said, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring.

You nodded, not sure you could trust your voice in that moment.

He offered a small smile, then gestured for you to follow. "We're not staying here. I have a safer place in mind."

You obeyed silently, following him through the corridors and then outside, the only sound being the small vials of potion clinking in the bag and the soft thumping of your feet on the wet grass.

You had no idea where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. In that moment, you were quite literally trusting him with your life, and you hated that.

Stopping before the Whomping Willow, Remus motioned for you to wait at a safe distance, and you watched in awe as he expertly pacified the violent tree, revealing a hidden entrance to an underground passage.

Without questioning him, you proceeded in silence, making your way through some damp, sketchy tunnels. This was definitely not how you had expected to have your first heat and your need to be with him was growing stronger and stronger. In normal circumstances, you should have been scared, terrified even, following a grown alpha to Merlin-knows-where, but you actually were starting to feel desperate, aching for something you couldn't explain.

You finally emerged into an old, creaking building, full of dust and looking like it was about to fall apart. Despite this, fresh blankets were laid out on the bed, candles provided a soft light, making it look somewhat comfortable.

Remus carefully set down the bag of potions and turned to you, looking a bit sheepish.

"It's not much, I know. But this place has been a refuge of sorts during my time here as a student... it's secluded, away from prying eyes and other... influences," he explained, deliberately vague about the deeper reasons.

You looked around, taking in your surroundings. He was right, this wasn't much, but it was safe. "Thank you, Professor Lupin."

"Please, call me Remus here," he insisted gently. "I'll let you settle down. I'll be just next door. If you need anything, just call for me."

"Thank you, Remus."

In the adjacent room. Remus sat rigidly, every muscle tensed, focusing on every breath, attempting to anchor himself to his resolve. He was battling his own nature, his instincts, usually so well-contained, were now threatening to overwhelm him, fuelled by your potent scent. It had been years since he'd felt such a primal pull, and he had never acted on it. So he sat, focusing on deep, steadying breaths. it was all he could do to maintain control.

Meanwhile, you were beginning to experience the torturing onset of your heat. It was a violent assault of unfamiliar sensations, confusing, intense, leaving you feeling profoundly alone yet achingly in need of something- something, specifically Remus. The room felt too large, too empty, yet suffocating.

Unable to bear the isolation and the escalating ache, you called out, your voice echoing a desperation you barely understood. "R-Remus... Remus, please... I don't know what's happening to me."

Remus hesitated at the door, his hand clenched around the frame. "Y/N, I'm here. Tell me what you need," he encouraged.

"I need... I need... I feel like i'm losing my mind. I need... I don't know," you stammered, your confusion and need radiating from you in a way that tugged relentlessly at Remus' instincts.

He stepped just inside the room, his expression a mix of concern and fear- for you, for himself, for the line he was terrified of crossing. "I know, I know. I understand. It's your heat... and it's strong. But I brought something that might help," he said, retrieving a vial from the small bag he had brought. "Drink this; it should ease the symptoms."

You took the vial with trembling hands and drank the potion, your eyes never leaving his as he sat cautiously at the edge of the bed.

"Why is this happening to me like this? Shouldn't the potion work immediately?" you asked, panic evident in your tone.

"It should, but... your heat seems to be very strong. Let's just wait for a moment. I'm here."

"Remus... it's not working. Please, I need..."

"I know what you need, Y/N. But I can't give it to you. We have to wait it out. It's going to be alright."

This wasn't going to do. Being far from him was painful. Being close to him without getting what you needed what torture. You needed him in a way you had never needed anything else before. You needed him to consume you, to take you, to mark you, to breed you.

"Alpha, please," you whispered without even meaning to. The moment the words left your lips, Remus froze, his heart racing as every fibre of his being, of his soul, responded to that word. It was spoken with such raw need that it resonated with the very essence of his being. His resolve shattered, not out of defeat, but out of an overwhelming need to fulfill his role as an alpha.

Before you could react, you were flipped onto your stomach, the sound of a low growl reaching your ears. You were not even in control of your body anymore. Your instincts were controlling you, and you desperately raised your hips, presenting yourself to him in the most intimate way.

The sight made Remus' blood travel south immediately. Already hard, he yanked down your trousers before unbuckling his own. You raised your hips higher, whining pathetically, desperate for him to take you. As he looked down at you, his cock throbbed with need and he knew then, there was no going back.

"Please, alpha," you begged again, your voice trembling. "I need... I need you."

"Fuck..." he growled, reaching down to position himself at your slick entrance. "I'm sorry," he started, his voice trembling, "this is the only way I know to help you."

You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain and pleasure that would soon consume you. "Please," you whimpered, "I need this."

With a grunt, Remus pushed himself into you, your bodies connecting in a way that was both deeply intimate and primal. You gasped at the intrusion, your body trembling as you felt him filling you.

He felt you tighten and tense as you tried to accommodate his size, your body reacting instinctively. "Relax," he instructed, his voice a low rumble. "You need to relax. Let me take care of you."

His words, the authority in his tone, something deep within you responded. You forced yourself to relax, even as you felt his girth stretch you. He hissed in pleasure as he felt you accommodate him, your tightness almost too much.

"That's it, good girl," he rasped out, one hand coming to rest on your lower back to steady you. His hips snapped forward, burying himself fully within you.

You moaned, your entire being blissfully consumed by the feeling of fullness.

"Are you alright?" he asked, staying very still within you.

You could only nod before another desperate plea escaped you. "Yes, alpha... please, more."

At that, he allowed his instincts to fully take over. His hands gripped your hips painfully, and he began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful. A part of him was urging him to be gentle, but the other part, the alpha, was screaming at him to take what was his, to claim, to mate, and it was too strong to resist. He needed to feel you beneath him, to lose himself in the pleasure of your connection.

You clung to the sheets, your nails digging into the fabric as Remus continued to rut into you. Your body rocked with every thrust, and soon enough, the pain began to fade, replaced by a blissful warmth that spread through your body. He knew he was taking a risk. A huge risk. But he couldn't help himself. He needed you, and you needed him.

"Fuck, Y/N," he grunted as he continued his relentless pace. He leaned over you, his chest against your back, your bodies moulding together as though they were made for each other. "You feel so good," he growled low in your ear, his voice deep, rasping, reflecting his unending hunger.

Each of his movement was sharp, controlled yet desperate, a constant rhythm of push and pull and he delved deeper into you, the pulsing throb of him only heightening your pleasure.

"Alpha... alpha, please... I- I'm going to-" you tried to say but your orgasm tore through you with such force that you lost your voice. Remus didn't slow down. If anything, feeling you clench around him only fuelled his punishing pace.

"I'm going to knot you," he announced. "I'm going to fill you up. Mark you as mine," he continued breathlessly. "I want everyone to know you're mine, to see you swollen with my seed, to see you bear my mark."

You whined, barely able to hold yourself up from under his weight, but you managed to keep your hips elevated, desperate to be filled, to be marked, to be owned.

His movements became jerky, sporadic as the wave of his release began to crest, each thrust of his hips pushing you further down into the mattress. "Take it," he rasped, "take my knot," his voice a harsh whisper against the shell of your ear before his teeth latched onto the soft skin of your neck, imprinting his mark on you.

You moaned at the mix of pain and pleasure as his hand traveled down your arm, tangling your fingers together and with a final, deep thrust, he surrendered to the pleasure, his body shuddering as he came inside you. His hips flush against yours, his body draped protectively over yours as he poured himself into you with abandon. Finally he stilled, grunting as he felt the knot at the base of his cock start to swell.

The sensation was foreign, somewhat painful, and you tensed, almost instinctively trying to move away.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay," he tried to soothe, still panting from his intense climax. "Stay still for me. It'll subside soon, I promise."

He remained on top of you for a while, the knot locking you together, securing a powerful and intimate bond between you. His fingers stroked your skin gently, before he carefully maneuvered you to your side, spooning you protectively as his knot was still deeply lodged within you.

"I know, it's okay. I'm just making you more comfortable. I've got you," he soothed as you whimpered from the movements.

You stayed like that, your bodies intimately connected, until the knot subsided enough for Remus to pull out. You whined at the sudden loss and the wet warmth spreading between your thigh.

As he felt you relax into him, Remus gently kissed your temple before carefully disentangling himself from you. With a flick of his wand, the wet feeling between your legs disappeared and a blanket was draped over you.

Turning to the potions bag, Remus retrieved a vial, his hands slightly trembling as he grasped the small bottle.

"Y/N, can you sit up for me?" he asked gently, offering his hand to support you.

With his help, you managed to move into a sitting position, your movements languid, utterly exhausted from what had just transpired. Remus handed you the potion, noticing your confused expression.

"This is uh... it's just a precaution... to prevent any unwanted consequences," he explained, uncomfortable from the intimate implications of his words.

Your cheeks flushed with a hint of color as you took the vial, your fingers brushing against his in the exchange.

"Oh, I... thank you."

"I know this looks like... perhaps I had planned for this to happen. But I promise, it is not the case. I simply keep this sort of supply for any students who may be in need."

"I trust you, Remus. And this was bound to happen, one way or another... and I'm glad it was with you."

"Well, I... erm. It's important to stay hydrated, especially after this. Here," he said, trying to change the subject.

You laughed softly, accepting the water from him. He had this way of knowing exactly what you needed before you even knew yourself. You were actually thirsty, and the cool liquid helped soothe your parched throat.

As you sipped your water, a sudden sharp pain caused you to reach for your neck, your fingers brushing against a fresh, deep red mark. You looked at Remus with questioning eyes, seeking an explanation.

Remus, visibly uncomfortable and with a hint of regret in his eyes, cleared his throat before speaking. "That's... that's a mark. My mark," he began, struggling to maintain eye contact.

"In the heat of the moment, it's something an alpha can leave on an omega. It's a claim, a deep, instinctual reaction that seals a powerful bond. I didn't mean to- I should have controlled myself better."

Your fingers lingered on the mark, your initial shock giving way to a different emotion, one of a surprising acceptance and even a hint of joy. "Does this mean... are we mates now?"

Remus nodded. "Yes, it does. And I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't intend for this to happen this way. You're a student. I should have been more careful, more in control. But please know, I will take responsibility. I will take care of you, support you, and I promise, I won't be overbearing. I'll-"

"Remus, stop," you interjected, amused by his words tumbling our in a flustered rush. A smile crept onto your lips, a sense of deep contentment washing over you.

"I'm not upset. In fact, I'm...happy," you confessed.

Remus looked up, surprised. "You are?"

"Yes, I am. To be marked by you, to be your mate... it feels right, despite everything. I don't see myself with any of those young inexperienced alphas..."

"Young inexperienced alphas," he echoed. "Are you calling me old, miss?"

"Yes, maybe I am..."

#remus lupin #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x reader #professor lupin #professor lupin x reader #alpha remus lupin #omega reader #smut

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sophsicle · 4 months

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im not being mean or anything and not judging u at all but why don’t u like taylor??? im just curious bc there is some reasons why u could not like her

I MEAN okay. first things first. taylor swift is fine. like she is totally fine. i don't think she's a villain or anything. she has a fan base that is loud, and obnoxious, and currently dominating the public sphere and so if you are someone who doesn't WORSHIP her (hm hm *me*) it gets to be just a little annoying.

like there are t swift songs i bop out to. i don't have a fundamental problem with her. it is more the way she is spoken about that starts to get on my nerves.

and like. y'know. i don't think her winning album of the year again is something to celebrate. she's grammy bait. pretty lil blond girl who makes palatable pop music. im with jay-z on this one. in general i think she is someone of mediocre ability who has received praise far surpassing what she deserves which, is not her fault, but i find the god-like status she has acquired aggravating

the other thing is that taylor swift has a tendency to adopt political causes exclusively to the extent that they financially benefit her.

she presents herself, especially in her netflix documentary, as someone who wants to be an activist for causes, but she is quite frequently silent about things that she could clearly have a huge impact on *cough cough* Palestine*cough cough*

AND BEFORE someone comes at me with the whole "why do you need celebrities to speak about political issues blah blah blah" two things

like i said, taylor swift has specifically placed herself in this conversation

she doesn't HAVE to do anything, im not saying throw her in jail, but, you know, when you have all the power and all the money and you consistently choose not to use it (except, again, in very specific situations that benefit you) i don't respect you

taylor swift's carbon footprint just from her private jet, not her whole lifestyle, but just her private jet, is unconscionable and that is a specific her problem, like the negative impact she is having on the environment is extreme even when compared to other celebrities, which I’m so sorry, makes her an asshole

taylor swifts specific brand of uneducated white feminism that she tends to weaponize against, usually other women but, people in general, who she just feels are being mean to her is annoying and not helpful to anyone but her

her pursuit of a sexual harassment case as a spring board to launch a new album, just to several years later publicly associate with a man charged with aggravated sexual battery feels hypocritical

LIKE there are worse people in the world

but she does not have the talent or the moral fibre of someone worthy of the adoration she receives

#soph rambles

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agoodroughandtumble · 6 months

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A Man of Little Words - Roronoa Zoro x Reader Drabble

Status: Complete

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Summary: Reader reflects on their feelings for Zoro

Warning(s): 18+ Language

Roronoa Zoro was a man of little words, and, infuriatingly to you a man of fewer expressions. You could tell when he was asleep – and you could tell when he was really pissed off as evidenced by the bandana usually worn around his bicep being tied around his head. But other than that you were clueless. You could create scenarios in your head – pretend that some of his looks, some of his smirks or winks were for you and you alone. You could make up all the stories in your head you liked but none of them could satisfy.

None of them could ignore the painstakingly obvious fact that he simply did not like you like that – like you wanted, like you needed, like your very bones craved his attention as if without it you would fall into an abyss, a black hole, consuming, misshaping, pulling apart every fibre of your being; if only he would just touch you. Just look at you – just give you any sign that you weren’t slipping into this all-consuming madness all alone.

And now he has the fucking gall to smirk at you as he sits by the mast listening to another one of Usopp’s tall tales. The arsehole has the audacity, the sheer brazenness to take in your every smile, every laugh, every inquisitive head tilt as if it actually means something to him.

You hate him in that moment. You hate the fact that he has you questioning your entire existence when for him this is just a standard night aboard the Sunny. You try to keep your composure but you’re acutely aware of at least Nami and Robin having noticed your change in expression and the fact that despite your best efforts your eyes keep wandering back to a certain green-haired swordsman. How you want the world to swallow you up. The fires of hell can be nothing compared to the burning of being next to him.

You fiddle with your fingers, your hair, the bottle in your hand – anything to ignore the supernova engulfing you. The exquisite collapse and eruption you tried so hard to contain.

A voice seizes you out of it – a steely voice, ice thick enough to stop your breath. “It’s my watch tonight – keep me company?”

Fuck. You hate the fact that it’s an automatic yes. You hate the fact that it’s only going to cause more pain. You hate the fact that the pain is more exquisite than anything you’ve ever felt before, would endure again just for those sharp eyes to acknowledge you again -that breath to cause goosebumps down your spine. You hate that you’re so completely undone at the slightest notion of attention. But you do – because of course you do, because what else are you supposed to do.

He holds out his hand to you, expectantly, almost reassuringly. And you let him, and thank the Gods and curse yourself because it’s Roronoa Zoro and if anyone fucks you up it’ll be him.

[Like the Stars in the Sky Part - Companion Piece]

#one piece #opla #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader

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thestonestudiosculpture · 6 months

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The material used in it is Fibre. Our best artisans wonderfully craft this sculpture.

To know more about the product: https://www.thestonestudio.in/product/girl-boy-garden-statue/ To check our website: www.thestonestudio.in Phone No: +91-7008222943 Email Id: [email protected]

#bird bath #garden bird bath #statue #exterior #home decor #garden decor #landscapedesign #fibre statue #art #garden decor statue #garden design #garden ornaments

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cobragardens · 7 months

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Aziraphale's Ascot: An Analysis

What's most interesting to me about the ascot Aziraphale is wearing when he turns up in Crowley's car in 1967 is that it's very fashionable.

An ascot (American), or day cravat (British), is a band of material meant to be worn inside the shirt collar, terminated on each end with a long wide tongue of that same fabric.

The band goes around the back of the neck, and the tongues are tied in the front and tucked into the open neck of a collared shirt. An ascot displays a wide sweep of color just below the wearer's face to flatter their complexion and show their personality.

And the late 1960s was the ascot's peak of popularity. The Duke of Windsor wore them; the mods wore them; British Invasion bands wore them. Fred wears an ascot in the Scooby-Doo cartoons. Lance Corporal Shadwell wears one. They were a huge trend.

On the surface this doesn't seem like Aziraphale at all. His previous appearances indicate his stylishness in ancient Rome is merely serendipitous overlap of Roman fashion with his personal preferences for white robes, blond hair in a Brutus cut, and gold wing-themed jewellery. In 1601, 1793, 1941, and all contemporary scenes, his style is decades to more than a century off the fashion of its time. We know he's into bow ties by 1941, and he's hardly one to adopt a style merely because it's popular; so why the ascot in 1967?

One possible explanation is that Aziraphale misses the clothing of the Victorian period and leaps at the chance to wear something that harks back to a time when he felt at home, sartorially speaking.

I don't think that's it, though, at least not in Show Omens. For one thing, traditional ascot ties (what a British person would call an ascot or an ascot tie, rather than a day cravat) are not at all the same accessory as the ascots of the 1960s: they're formal rather than semi-casual daywear; they're made of thicker silk, often with a woven rather than printed pattern; and they're worn outside the shirt and collar. More importantly, we've got two scenes of Aziraphale in the Victorian period, and he's not wearing an ascot tie in either of them: he's wearing a long cravat tied in a wide bow, a precursor to his bow ties.

I therefore propose a different explanation for the ascot of 1967.

As Aziraphale has clearly never been anywhere near a polyester fibre in the whole of his celestial existence, and as he always affects an appearance of idle hereditary wealth, we must presume that this--

--is silk. (In fact in the 1960s, a silk ascot in light colors was a signal of upper-class status.)

And we know Aziraphale likes silk, because by 2023 he's been wearing a silk velvet waistcoat for 200 years.

I again advance the argument that, despite himself, Aziraphale is a voluptuary by nature: a person who directs their energies toward the pursuit and enjoyment of pleasure, especially (but not solely) sensual pleasure.

He can control his appearance at will, and yet he has a barber; that means he enjoys the pleasure of a haircut and maybe a hot shave. (I have similar suspicions about his manicured hands.) The barber has recommended new cologne, which means Aziraphale has an old cologne, which means he likes to smell beautiful scents. He eats for sensual pleasure. He drinks for sensual pleasure (much more so than Crowley, who drinks for the pleasure and escape of inebriation). He listens to music for sensual pleasure. He attends the theater for pleasure. Reading is as much a sensual pleasure inside your own head as it is intellectual self-stimulation (which is its own kind of pleasure in turn); and believe me, collecting books is as much a sensual pleasure as a logistical and a philosophical one.

Aziraphale even agrees to an Arrangement with a demon to give himself more spare time for his pursuit of human pleasures. And then he and the demon become friends, because what could be a greater pleasure than indulging yourself in the good company of someone clever and kind and beautiful, who flirts with you and tells wicked jokes you mustn't laugh at--except perhaps for the pleasure of making that person smile in return?

Fun fact: The silk of which casual ascots are made is finer than the silk of either traditional ascot ties or neckties, because ascots/day cravats are made to be worn inside rather than outside the collar.

In 1967, instead of his usual crisp bow tie around his usual tightly buttoned collar, Aziraphale wears an open collar and a day cravat because the fashion of the 1960s lets him keep silk against his skin.

And there's one other thing, too. Compare Aziraphale's ascot to Lance-Corporal Shadwell's, or to the standard ascot knot:

The edge of Azirapale's ascot sits below the edge of his shirt collar where it should sit above, and the cascade spills almost an inch in front of his Adam's apple instead of flush against his neck. Aziraphale has tied his ascot low and loose.

It allows him to bare more of his throat to Crowley than has been sanctioned by custom for 2,000 years.

How long after Aziraphale reverted to bow ties did Crowley think about that?

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #aziraphale's ascot #good omens 1967 #good omens s2 #aziraphale's day cravat

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rookthorne · 2 months

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧

The festivities of Christmas were often overlooked by Bucky in his job in favour of rushing off to save a life, but not this year — this year, you were there to bring joy to him, and to all of his team.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☤ Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ☤ 1.1k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ☤ Tooth rotting fluff, work husband antics, teasing

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ☤ I can't say which dynamic I love writing more — Stevie and Buck, or Peanut and Bucky.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ☤ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Bucky stood in the entryway of the apartment, small figurine in hand. “What’s this?” He turned it over in his grip, inspecting the details of the snowman’s little arms and scarf. “It’s cute, but what is it?”

“It’s another little guardian,” you said quietly, looking from the little bobble statue in his hand, up to his face. “I thought it could sit on the dash, you don’t have to–”

“Peanut, this little dude is fuckin’ adorable. He’s staying in the truck.” The small snowman wobbled as he shook it, boyish curiosity lighting up his face. “I wanna see if Stevie can send him flyin’,” he laughed, grinning widely down at it. “You know how he is.”

You beamed at Bucky and moved forward to hug him. “I’m glad, now go—go bring festive cheer to those who need it.”

Bucky kissed you full on the lips before he stepped back towards the door. “I’ll try. Be safe, okay?”

“It’s cookies—I won’t burn the place down,” you teased, and Bucky arched a brow. “I won’t! Now go!”

“If you say so,” he murmured, and he placed the figurine in his bag. “I’ll message you when I get there.”

“Okay, be safe, my hero,” you called, blowing him kisses as you shooed him out the door. The chilled breeze nipped at your nose while you watched him walk away, then you listened for the sound of his car rumbling to life.

The holiday season has always been nerve wracking as the best friend, now partner, of an EMT, that was a given — drunken mishaps, snowy accidents, combined with the fiery, festive attitude that many people exhumed, and it was no surprise that Bucky, a high-ranking member of the paramedicine force, was run off his feet.

There were days that he would come home absolutely exhausted, down to the very last fibre of his being, and then there were days that you couldn’t console him in his grief — the loss of a patient far too painful for him to bear.

On occasion, there were happy days, too. They were relatively simple acts — Bucky making a patient laugh with his absolutely horrible jokes, or if he got to a patient and managed to help them, save them just in the nick of time.

It was true, Bucky was a real hero, and he needed all the guardians he could get.

“Alright,” you mumbled, padding slowly into the kitchen, a thoughtful crease in your brow. The ingredients for sugar cookies lined the counter, with the bonus edition of chocolate chips and peanut butter. “Knowing Stevie, he will devour the damn peanut butter ones like no one’s business,” you said louder while you stared at the ingredients.

The game plan to make the hampers was more stressful than you’d admit.

Finally, you exclaimed, “Sugar cookies, choc chip, and then peanut butter it is—or whatever they’re called.” With the decision made, you set to work on dividing up flour, eggs, and all else of what you needed.

A few moments passed by with little incident from the flour when your phone chimed. It was Bucky’s ringtone. You rushed to brush your hands of the loose clouds of powder, and you picked up the phone to look at the screen.

There was a text with an attachment. Excited, you swiped at the screen to open the picture, only you found it was a video.

The thumbnail was Bucky’s face, a broad smirk on his lips.

You pressed play and watched as he opened his mouth and said, “Stevie here has some words for you, Peanut, baby.”

The camera flipped to show the blond himself, a pout on his lips. “Where is my little guardian, Peanut?” Steve asked, pointing at the camera. “Stop playing favourites—Bucky is my husband before your boyfriend, so I am in on this relationship.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Just you wait, Cap,” you said.

Through the speaker, you heard Bucky laugh and you watched him shove Steve in the shoulder hard enough that he stumbled out of frame. “Shut it, punk,” Bucky said. “Anyway, this lil’ dude is gonna sit on the dash, baby. And Stevie’s driving first.”

“Oh no,” you laughed, and you sat down on one of the kitchen chairs as the video ended.

There was a picture sent next, and you pressed it, smiling happily when you saw the snowman figurine sitting proudly on the dash, right next to the small stuffie you had given Bucky previously.

Just as you started to type a reply, another message came through with another attachment, this time with the text: HELP ME!

You opened the new attachment, and like the other video, it opened on Bucky’s face — only this time, he looked remarkably more frightened. “Hey, ba- Rogers! Chill out!” There was an engine rev and a laugh in the background before Bucky looked back at the camera. “I have him set up on the dash now, and let’s see how long he lasts.”

The camera flipped forward, and you watched while the snowman wobbled and tipped with the movement of the ambulance. “He’s holdin’ up well so far– Oh, I spoke too fuckin’ soon.” Steve’s laughter boomed over the speaker as the snowman slid over the dash, comedically slow, as they took a corner.

“I need a guardian just to save me from this punk’s driving,” Bucky lamented, and you grinned as he turned the camera back to him. His eyes were wide in exaggerated shock. “Please, I need more, sweetheart—I won’t last.”

“On it,” you said to the screen, and you grabbed a pen and a pad of paper before scribbling it down — buy more guardians to save my hero — at the top of your to-do list.

Just as Bucky opened his mouth to speak again, you heard the telltale beep of their radio go off, then the voice of a dispatcher. Bucky made a noise of affirmation as he listened, and you watched his brow furrowed in concentration as he listened; unable to discern anything from the tinny sound, you couldn’t tell whether it was an ordinary call, or a serious call.

“Okay, baby girl, I gotta go,” Bucky said quickly, and he looked directly into the camera; directly at you. “I’ll message you later.” He blew a kiss to the camera and smiled. “I love you!” The video ended and minimised on its own.

“Be safe, babe,” you whispered. Glancing up at the ingredients, you made a hasty decision. You picked up the pen you used to write the previous note, and just under it, you wrote an amendment: buy all my heroes their own guardian, and Bucky an extra one. “They all need it.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #rookthorne's works

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kokusfluffyhair · 4 months

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I Will Never Let You Go

Shishio Tsukasa x gn!Reader | SFW

You were the first person Tsukasa chose to revive once he got access to the cave of nitric acid. He could remember clearly where you should have been when the green light coated the earth. You were supposed to meet him at a cafe down the street from the gym he used to train at. Somehow, like an invisible string was guiding him through the map of the overgrown forest, he found himself to you.

Not being aware yet of the fact that using the nitric acid on petrified people had a healing effect, Tsukasa, having already pulverised multiple statues that weren't to his liking, nearly broke into tears seeing that you were all in one piece. The worst that had happened was that your lower body was submerged in the ground and that you were covered with moss.

Tsukasa carefully dug you up, taking the most precise attention to make sure he didn't accidentally damage you, and then cleaned you up before pouring some of the nitric acid over you. When the stone burying your body cracked and tumbled apart from your bare skin, the first thing you saw was Tsukasa kneeling in front of you. You were not even able to speak his name before you were taken into his arms and embraced as tightly as he could without choking you, wrapping you in his cloak against his bare chest.

"Are you well?" he asked you.

"Yes." You didn't hesitate to lean forward and press your lips to his.

Tsukasa almost gasped as you kissed him, but he quickly fell comfortable and returned the gesture to you. He was an awkward kisser, inexperienced but passionate, and his plush lips held a tender softness you couldn't imagine receiving from anyone else.

He gave you his cloak until he could find more suitable clothing for you, protectively folding and tying it around your naked body as if to shield it from the eyes of any others. The two of your were completely alone. No one else was in sight, however for Tsukasa even the eyes of a stray monkey hanging from a tree was one pair too many to gaze upon what was his.

When Tsukasa brought you to the shelter he had stole from Senku, he explained the situation to you and told you about his plans. As all who were revived from the petrification, you were shocked to hear that you were over three thousand years in the future, living in this primitive, uninhabited (so you thought) world. To Tsukasa's relief, you agreed with his dreams. Having come from a poor family where it was difficult to make ends meet to pay rent and buy food, the thought of a world free from that was like a godsend.

And you knew, no matter what the state of the world, that Tsukasa would protect you. He gave you his word long before the green light froze you in place on your way to the cafe, and his promise still stood valid thousands of year later. He was your best friend and your dearest love, even though Tsukasa's shyness left the two of you not yet having become more intimate than hugs and the occasional kiss. But you felt that it was only a matter of time before your relationship would become even closer than it was before.

"Y/n," Tsukasa said that evening as you were watching the sunset together from a high cliff. "When I build my empire, you and I will rule together to bring mankind to a purer civilisation." Although his face remained stoic, there was a slight upwards twist at the corners of his mouth. "Everything we make together from now on will be a paradise world just for us." His eyes glistened softly with pride. "Will you embark on this journey with me?"

"Of course." The answer was simple and not a single fibre in your body questioned your decision.

Tsukasa seemed to know what your response would be, but he needed to hear it with his own ears. He turned to face you, took your hand into both of his, and gently raised it to his lips. Closing his eyes, he kissed the back of your hand and lowered his forehead to the same place he had touched with his lips.

"No matter what, it will always be you and me together," he said and rose his forehead. His long, thick eyelashes separated from each other as he calmly opened his eyes to look at you. "Even if we somehow live another thousand years, I will never have anyone but you stand by my side."

#dr stone #tsukasa #tsukasa shishio #tsukasa shishio x y/n #tsukasa shishio x you #tsukasa shishio x reader #dr stone x reader #dr stone x you #dr stone x y/n

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dinoburger · 3 days

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Amazing Digital Circus is kinda like something between DHMIS and Wreck It Ralph... but it kinda doesn't quite have the charm or the pacing to me?

like... what both DHMIS and WIR do is establish patterns to break first - WIR is about a game's rules being broken, but it escalates even further to the fabric of the game itself being tampered with, DHMIS is even more clever with how it plays with the meta.

DHMIS is very much a "kids' show gone wrong" with the jarring gross-out gore, but the "off-ness" of it penetrates the fibre of the concept: having lessons on "creativity" become admonishments into conformity, the "love" episode about religious cults and the "information" episode about nonsense.

But it becomes even more jarring when the characters completely break the meta and leave the set to traverse the dark, quiet void of the studio.... or leave the building entirely. Even the weird gross out horror stops being a certainty, instead leaving a more uneasy, existential feeling that puts you right in the characters' shoes.

Each of those cryptic moments feels significant, like reality creeping into a dream, something more lucid and real but ominous and foreboding just on the periphery.

TADC's "breaks" seem to be part of the pattern, it feels weird to have massive game breaks then essentially return to status quo... like it just breaks a lot of whatever atmosphere is being built up in a predictable way, there's not much suspense in something you're expecting will happen to progress the story if it's the premise of the thing itself instead of an escalation.

It might be kind of a harsh judgement considering there's only two episodes out but... I think the way it lingers on the existential dread stuff and has to tell us that breaking the game is scary all the time makes me think it really really wants this feeling to land, but the fact that it has to keep explaining that premise over and over takes out the punch it might have otherwise.

N the characters just. Feel like the worst of both worlds sometimes. They're "self aware" enough to continuously bring you out of any investment you might have in the story, but still really one dimensional otherwise. None of them charm me.

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pengujoon · 9 months

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A LETTER TO MY BELOVED

content. megumi x fwb!reader, fluff, angst if you squint, megumi wants to learn to love and accept being cared for by others. megumi loves you and realises his feelings for you

a/n. wrote this in megumi's pov in mind, although there's no names specific here. it's a different writing style than what I usually do! there's absolutely no smut, but rather just the status of a fwb

To my beloved,

From the moment I met you, something changed within me — a shift in the tides of my heart that I couldn't fully comprehend. You were a tempest of contradictions, a captivating blend of fire and gentleness. And as much as I tried to resist, your presence burrowed deep into my thoughts.

I've always found it difficult to love — difficult to let someone in, to expose my vulnerabilities, when all I've known is people leaving. The pain of loss has carved scars on my heart, a tapestry of wounds that I've carried with me for so long.

When we began as friends with benefits, it was a choice born out of self-preservation. I told myself that this way, I wouldn't have to open my heart fully, wouldn't have to face the possibility of another person walking away from my life.

But every stolen moment, every touch that we shared, only served to deepen the bond between us. Your laughter became a melody that I craved, your smiles an anchor in the storm of my thoughts.

And though I denied it with every fibre of my being, something within me recognised that you were different — that what we had was more than just physical.

I found myself choosing you, over and over again. I found myself seeking comfort in your presence, in your touch, in the shared spaces where it was just you and me against the world.

Yet, I pushed back the truth. I refused to acknowledge the way my heart skipped a beat when you were near, how my pulse quickened at the mere thought of you. I convinced myself that I wasn't capable of love — that I was too broken, too scarred to deserve it.

But love doesn't always follow the rules we set for ourselves. It doesn't care about the walls we've built, the reasons we've concocted to keep it at bay.

I tried to fight it, tried to drown my feelings in denial. But as each day passed, it became impossible to ignore the truth — the truth that I had fallen in love with you, with your laughter that echoed in my dreams, with your touch that set my heart ablaze.

I saw the way you looked at me, a warmth in your eyes that spoke of something deeper, something that went beyond our physical connection. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to believe that you could love me — a person with a past stained by loss and pain.

But maybe, just maybe, it's time to rewrite the script—the story I've told myself for so long. Because every time you're near, every time our fingers brush against each other, it's as if the universe is telling me that love is worth the risk.

So, here I stand, torn between the fear of loss and the desire to be truly seen, truly loved. And as I watch you from afar, I can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, you could be the one who stays — a constant in a world that's always been transient.

And even though the words are hard to say, even though the fear lingers in the depths of my heart, I'll whisper it to the wind, to the stars above — the truth that's been waiting to be spoken:

I love you.

I always have this headcanon that megumi has a fwb because 1) no strings attached and 2) doesn't involve him romantically. and also I hc that he finds himself hard to be loved and thinks that all the people he loves will eventually leave him, and therefore got himself into his current predicament.

then he eventually came to a realisation that he actually loves his fwb and since he couldn't admit his feelings outright, he chose to write a letter to reveal his true feelings. (such a megumi move)

#fwb!megumi x reader #megumi x fwb!reader #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #penguwrites

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