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ceilidho · 5 months

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prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 2. (read part 1 here) tags: dubcon

There’s a photo of you taped up on the inside of his locker.

The glimpse you catch of it is quick. Not like you aren’t meant to see it, but more like Johnny’s so unconcerned with whether you see it or not that he doesn’t bother to make a show of it. Just reaches into his locker to grab his lunch and shuts it while you’re still gaping at the polaroid of someone that looks suspiciously like you in your store uniform. You hear someone clear their throat and you glance up, flinching when you meet Johnny’s eyes.

“Missing me already?” he teases, winking. “I’ll be back on the floor as soon as possible. ‘Promise, hen.”

“It’s not—”

He’s already out the door and on the way to the lunchroom before you’re able to get the rest of your sentence out.

Johnny seems to have a sixth sense for when you’re about to spurn his advances. Any other day he would have stuck around to listen to the rest of your sentence, but when he has an inkling that those words will be tinged by the flavour of rejection, he’s quick to book it. You privately have to admit it’s not a terrible strategy. It’s not often that you’re able to get the words out.

It’s one of those rare shifts where you’re clocking in later than Johnny, missing his lunch break. Small mercies. It doesn’t mean much because your schedules still overlap a significant amount, but it does mean that you won’t be forced to choke down your lunch while Johnny sits opposite you at the lunch table and stares you down the entire half hour.

“Wait, that was so fucking cute,” someone says from behind you. You turn on your heel to find a coworker staring at Johnny’s locker, properly enchanted by whatever she saw. Practically swooning.

“What is?”

“Didn’t you see the picture he has of you? In his locker?” She says it with emphasis, giving you a significant look.

“Yeah…I…don’t you think it’s a bit…like, weird?” you ask her, making sure to keep your voice low in case Johnny is still around the corner. You can’t help the way you glance down the hallway.

She frowns. “It’s cute. He’s like, smitten with you. I’ve never seen him with a crush on anyone before and I’ve worked with him for over a year. I think it’s kind of nice. Do you not like him or something?”

“Well, I just…we aren’t even dating and I think…I think he even has a photo of me as his lock screen—”

“Because if you aren’t interested in him, you should let him down now. It’s not fair of you to just string him along, you know. He’s a really good guy.”

You’re not sure about the whole good guy thing. Johnny acts like a nice guy most of the time, but you’ve had the unfortunate luck in getting to experience the other side of him.

The problem lies in the fact that Johnny is, you think, a genuinely likeable guy to everyone else. It’s not like your coworkers are all collectively wrong in their opinion of him—he really is an excellent coworker. A good sport, a funny guy; he lends a hand whenever someone needs help. He helped Jeff move two weeks ago, drove Daryl to the airport last Saturday, and looked after Sonya’s cat while she was away on vacation that one time.

It’s with you that his good-time nature evaporates; his lazy, drawled predilection for joking around and indulging himself and others in a good ribbing replaced by a weird, manufactured kindness. Almost sickly sweet. He lays it on so thick around others that they think you experience the same friendship with Johnny that the rest of them get to enjoy.

Not so.

None of them catch the way he’s always hovering, always staring at you. Eyes half-lidded; bedroom eyes in the middle of your shift, in the middle of the workplace.

None of your coworkers are around when you’re at the register one day and Johnny takes his break to make a couple purchases, coming to your cash with a basket full of chocolate, wine, condoms, body butter, and batteries. No one except him notices the way you pause at the last item.

“Dinnae ken if your vibrator was rechargeable or not,” he says when you look at him funny, a big grin stretched across his face. Blue eyes gleaming almost feverishly. “Thought I’d be prepared either way.”

You scan his items in silence. When you hand him his bag, you try not to shudder when he purposefully glances his hand over yours.

Worse are the days when Johnny comes in as a customer, the days when he’s off the schedule. When he shouldn’t even be at the store at all. No one notices the way he pesters you the entire time he’s in the store, insisting on you helping him with his purchases. If a coworker does happen to notice his presence (and how could they not when he’s such a formidable presence in any room, when he almost glows from the energy stockpiled in his body with nowhere else to go), he’ll make polite conversation, just long enough to not seem rude, before shifting his attention back to you.

His conversation borders on interrogation. He asks you about your childhood and your friends and whether you have a partner or any previous partners. He makes you follow him to the bed section where he tries out all the mattresses and then asks you increasingly inappropriate questions like what mattress you have, what it feels like, how you sleep at night, what you wear to bed.

When you rebuff him one too many times, he’s not shy about telling you off.

“Ye just need a good fuck ta sort ye out,” Johnny snarls when you brush off another invite out to lunch one day. It’s not often that he loses his temper with you, so his anger makes your eyes widen, your pulse pick up. During morning shift assignments, he’d corralled your manager into pairing the two of you up on curbside pick-up orders, meaning that you’ve been stuck with him for hours, nowhere else to go.

“Excuse me?” you say, voice going up a decibel.

He leans across the front of the cart loaded with flowerpots and gardening tools. “I get it, hen. No one at home ta play with your pussy, huh? No choice but ta come into work all pent up and frustrated—”

“This is in like, the outer Hebrides of ‘none of your business’—”

“—clit’s probably all swollen too. Fuck.” He breathes out heavily through his nose, eyes darkening. “No wonder you’re always pissed off. I’d be too if I dinnae have a little replacement pussy at home.”

“You’re the reason I’m upset in the first place, Johnny.”

“Aw, I ken, bonnie,” he says with a pout, eyebrows slanting down like he really, truly pities you, the gesture immediately contradicted by his next words. “Promise I’ll make it better. Wanna meet outside my truck in a half hour?”

You storm off before it comes to blows. Not that it’d ever be a fair fight. Johnny would probably hold you away with his palm against your head while you swung at him uselessly. You try not to think of that too often. Of him toying with you. Most of your interactions feel like that these days. Like he’s a big cat holding your tail down when you try to scramble away.

When you beg your manager to switch shift assignments, the look you get could wilt flowers. It’s not completely your fault, even if your request is a bit inconveniencing. Johnny has your coworkers and management so wrapped around his finger that no one can even hazard a guess as to why you might be uncomfortable around him.

It’s the only reason you haven’t complained to HR yet. There are channels and protocols for dealing with his behaviour, but watching people practically trip over themselves to please him reminds you that the likeliest outcome would be them transferring you to another store. It just doesn’t seem worth it.

You don’t think about how frazzled his words leave you for the rest of your shift. You don’t think about it because there’s nothing to think about.

You know from the second that your manager reassigns you to women’s apparel that you’ve probably made a mistake. Customers buzz around you like gnats, like swarms of flies, and it’s only natural that you’d be compelled to swat a few. You hold on to the fraying edges of your patience with little finesse. About halfway through your shift, you get a stern talking to from your floor supervisor and put on an extra long break. You’re no less irritated when you get back though, somehow still agitated and snappy.

Big hands clamp over your shoulders and squeeze like he’s giving you a massage, thumbs digging into the grooves of your upper back. He ignores the way you tense up.

“Hen, you’re making the customers uncomfortable with all your huffin’ and puffin’,” he whispers into your ear, a light chuckle falling out with his words. Amused by your attitude this time instead of ticked off. “If ye want, I could take ye ta the back room ta loosen ye up a bit. Make your day a little better. Dinnae think anybody will even notice if we dip away for a bit—’sides management will probably send me a gift basket if ye come back perky after a good shag.”

You shrug him off to go clock out, ignoring the way he chuckles as you storm off. No one knows if you go home and wear out the battery in your vibrator while thinking about Johnny’s words. Thinking about Johnny guiding you to his truck with a palm flat on your low back, pinkie teasing just under the waistband of your pants, before laying you out across the backseat and climbing on top of you.

You come when you think about how he’d have to keep the door open to fuck you in his car.

Unfortunately, you’re more than familiar with his sweet side as well.

On your birthday, he comes in early with a sheet cake and organizes the employees so that the breakroom is dark when you come in. The entire staff is there when you switch on the lights, shouting your name and happy birthday, decked out in party hats and blowing into noisemakers.

It catches you off guard. Hits you right in the solar plexus and leaves you winded. You stand in the middle of the room like you’re under a spotlight and that spotlight is Johnny’s stare burning a hole in your head. For once, it doesn’t rankle. It leaves you feeling light, feathery, like floating down to earth. A coworker hands you a noisemaker and you smile until your eyes crinkle when you blow into it.

You’re in a good enough mood that you don’t argue when he insists on sitting beside you. He got you the cake after all. Maybe it’s the least he deserves. Your goodwill lasts until Johnny tries to feed you a piece of cake with his fork; he winds up getting cake smushed all over your cheek when you turn your head away.

“Johnny, ‘m not a baby,” you complain, wrinkling your nose when cake and icing slide down your face. “I can feed myself. This is so gross.”

“Shucks, hen, lemme get that. Shouldnae have turned your head,” Johnny curses, leaning over to scoop it off with his fingers. He holds them out to you, an offering. “Here ye go, kitty.”

You stare, horrified, until he shrugs like ‘suit yourself’ and pops them into his own mouth. Then drags the same spit covered fingers over your cheek again to keep cleaning you up.

You can tell that it’s hopeless to complain by the way your coworkers giggle and gossip, eyes drawn to the two of you. Maybe it would be better if you were transferred. You only have so many ‘I’m not his work wife’s left in you. Something’s bound to give. You have a sneaking suspicion that it’s going to be you.

On the walk to your car after your shift, which Johnny insists on doing like he does every time the two of you work a closing shift together, he jokingly asks if you’ve gotten your birthday spanks. He says it in that same awkward joking tone, just a bit too excited, staring at you too eagerly. Unblinking. Tuts his tongue when you tell him you’ve never heard of that before.

You jolt and squeak at the pop on your ass when he insists on opening the door to your car and helping you in. The betrayed look you shoot him hardly penetrates through his shit-eating grin.

“See ye tomorrow, kitty,” Johnny calls out, walking backwards away from you to where his truck is parked just a few spots away from yours. You think he would’ve parked right next to you if you hadn’t chosen a spot conveniently between two other cars. “More where that came from.”

Your hands shake against the steering wheel your whole drive home. Dreading tomorrow’s shift.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap x you #soap/reader #ikea soap #soap cod #john mactavish #x reader

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sleepingpillscosmos · 10 months

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I saw your jjk with golden retriever s/o, but what about a significant that has black cat energy? Feel free to ignore this, I hope you have a good day, night, or whatever :)

JJK WITH A LOVE INTEREST WITH BLACK CAT PERSONALITY

characters: megumi fushiguro, toge inumaki, yūta okkotsu, yūji itadori.

wc: about 150 each.

requested: yes, by anon.

a/n: kind of got carried away with megumi lol. hope you all will enjoy!

➪ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

Since you both have the same personality, you didn't really interacted with each other out of classes and mission. This lasted until Yūji and Nobara arrived at Jujutsu Tech. They practically forced you two to hang out with them, and it always finished with those two bickering with each other and you and Megumi pretending not to know them. You two talked outside school for the first time when Nobara dragged Yūji into a shop with her and you remained alone with Megumi outside. They were taking ages and, since both of your phones were practically dead, you started to talk to pass the time. It was really awkward at first, as the both of you aren't exactly the talkative type. But as the time passed it became more and more easier, and you both were surprised to find out that you two had a lot in common. You two started to hang out alone in either his or your dorm, not really doing something together, just enjoying the presence of the other. It was like this since then. You use your dates as a pause from all the noise of your classmates and your teacher. He likes that you really understand each other because he isn't really good with words, as are you, and this allows him to be himself without worrying about being misunderstood.

➪ TOGE INUMAKI

You're the one who understands him better than anyone. Since you're an observer it took you a little time to comprehend him when he talked. You helped Maki and Panda to notice his micro expressions when he talked so that they could learn his vocabulary, which isn't really large. You helped Yūta too when he arrived at Jujutsu tech, and this allowed Toge to find one of his best friends. Toge really likes your quietness because he feels like he is not the only one who's silent most of the time, even if you have two totally different reasons and even if he's actually more of a talker than you. He loves when you two hang out alone, because when he talks he knows that you understand everything he's saying, and he can feel like a normal person and have a conversation with you without someone asking the others what he meant.

➪ YŪTA OKKOTSU

At first he thought you hated him because you were really silent and hardly talked to him. He caught you observing him more than once, and it really scared him. He was probably more scared of you than of Maki, because at least he knew what Maki thought of him, while you never expressed your own opinions on him. Then he understood, with the help of Panda, that you actually didn't plan to kill him or anything, it was just how you are. He loves hanging out with you because, as you both are really silent and calm, he doesn't feel the pressure of making conversation.

➪ YŪJI ITADORI

He tried so hard to be your friend since the moment he met you due to his friendly and extroverted personality. For the first few weeks your conversations were mainly started and led by him, with you nodding or responding with single words or very short sentences. It didn't change much since then, but neither of you mind it. Even if you seem disinterested, he knows that you're listening carefully to what he's saying, because you remember even the stupidest things about him. He really likes the dynamic between you two because you're never annoyed when he starts to ramble and talk about nonsense topics, and you never stop him too, so he feels really appreciated because he knows too that he can be a bit too much sometimes.

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lostinforestbound · 1 month

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Did you have a request? It's NSFW headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, and Halsin react to their gender neutral s/o asking if they can worship his body & kiss everywhere. Thanks!

I can try! Per my guidelines, I don't write for Astarion, but I can do everyone else! I'm not as familiar writing these characters, so I hope these turned out all right!

Gale, Wyll, and Halsin Body Worship

NSFW Under Cut, Minors DNI

Gale

Gale loves giving more than anything. He cooks, he cleans, he gives love, literally everything he can for his love.

This especially happens during intercourse, and you better believe there's body worship sprinkled in there.

But being at the receiving end of it? He's so focused on his lover he never gave it much thought.

He's always willing to try something new! How could he ever say no to them, when they look so excited?

He's experienced. Of course he is! His former lover was Mystra, after all.

But when they get started, kissing his neck and down his chest where the orb lays, he feels like it's the first time again.

Personal headcannon: Gale is soft! He has plush thighs and stomach, so there's so much skin to kiss!

His breath hitches any time his partner playfully nips at the more sensitive areas; his chest, neck, and the inside of his thighs.

They have never seen his face so flushed like this, and so riled up on top of it!

In the end, they'll have some mercy and give him the best oral he's every received. He doesn't last long.

Wyll

Wyll is definitely more traditional when it comes to romance, but it also applies to intimacy.

When his partner mentions wanting to switch things up in the bedroom, he's a little surprised but pretty open to it. He just doesn't want to do anything extreme.

Body worship? He was already doing it subconsciously, always having something to say about how his love looks.

He gets pretty damn flustered when he suddenly becomes the receiving end of the worship.

Over time, I think he becomes comfortable with his infernal traits, and it definitely helps when his lover is worshiping them.

Whether it's them stabilizing themselves or just wanting something to hold, grabbing his horns is definitely a way to get him going!

The best position, or at least the one he most enjoys while his lover appreciates his body, is riding him.

He wants to watch them always, even when he goes weak for their gentle touches and kisses to the scars on his face.

He has a hard time letting them do all the work. He wants to worship them right back, but he'll listen if they tell him to sit back.

While he enjoys it a lot, next time, he wants it to be his turn.

Halsin

Halsin is older, and based off of his stories, he's been around the block when it comes to his exploits!

Body worship is nothing new to him, and he's happy to let his significant other take over and do what they'd like.

He'll lean into their touch, letting their hands run over the expanse of his chest and neck.

Touching and rubbing his ears would make him sigh in content, but pinching the tips of them makes him groan.

Halsin doesn't get too flustered as he's pretty experienced, but he definitely lets his love know what he likes by being noisy.

Is he trying to embarrass them a little? He'll never tell, but he does love to tease.

As his lover runs their hands all over his body, they can hear plenty of pleased sighs as they kiss. This isn't something he indulges in too often.

He ends up taking control right back in his excitement, biting their lower lip in the process.

Thank the gods they aren't anywhere near camp, the others would hear them all night long.

#forest-writes #gale x tav #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #wyll x tav #halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin x tav #gale x reader #halsin x reader #wyll x reader

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starrdevereauxx · 1 month

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I said last time would be the last time.

Brandon broke up with me 6 months ago. I’ve been a wreck for weeks on end. I promised myself to get over it, but it’s been such a hard thing to process. We would always fight, make up, make love and act like nothing ever happened. He was gone this time. This was the longest we ever been apart.

I try to find things to do to pass the time, but nothing ever seems to take my mind off him. I still smell him, breathe him, and feel him through my body. Our mutual friends always give messages about him, but I’ve been ignoring them lately. My heart can’t take listening to his name, let alone hearing of any accomplishments.

I need to run my errands today, but like everyday I become sad running them alone. We did everything together, after 6 years I can’t believe that we don’t do this anymore.

Heading to the grocery store I become sad with my list of groceries for one instead of two. I hop in my car and turn on “our” playlist. Hoping I can borrow a feeling from any song that plays. Another slow song begins to play and I’m seeing myself in the mirror. Envisioning him touching me, wishing my hands were his. Rubbing the side of my face, choking me ever so lightly. I literally just felt my pussy drip at this light.

“Get it together Dev” I say trying to convince myself that I’m over him. Knowing damn well I’m not. I can feel him inside my pussy when I think about him. The feeling intensifies with every breath I take.

I gather myself to go inside of the store, with my lonely list of single items. Looking at the list I just remember every single meal I ever made for him. Pouring my heart into each meal, now I can only make food for myself. I sob gathering myself for this lonely trip.

I walk through the store, gathering each item reluctantly. Wishing we were laughing together, talking about what we gonna pretend to watch on Netflix when we got back home. Saying pretend because it we wouldn’t make it pass the opening credits without his chocolate snicker veined dick engorged in my throat. He would be gagging me before we knew the name of the movie.

After looking at my cart, I figured I deserved a treat. I tried to maintain a healthy cart since I’m single, I need to stay in shape. The most physical activity I get is the gym these days, so I had to maintain some resemblance of care in my food intake. But with all the crying that I’ve been doing, today I deserve a treat. I decided to head back to the ice cream isle and help myself to something to lift my spirits.

As I walk to the back of the store with my headphones on, I’m letting Chris Brown sing me to a happy place. I almost begin to get a spring in my step as he’s talking about fucking someone back to sleep.

I make it to the ice cream section and I immediately look for Ben & Jerry’s tasty ass. I see it, straight ahead “Chunky Monkey”. I move my cart out of the way to reach for it. As I get ready to reach for the pint, I feel some thing grab me, startled I think I’m in trouble for climbing inside the refrigerator. Moving my headphones so I can hear, a deep, smoldering voice says

“that’s still your favorite ice cream I see, even though I also remember that your monkey was the only chunky I ever wanted”.

I’m fucking stuck. There’s only one voice I know that sounds like that, and my pussy dripping is letting me know exactly who it is.

“Brandon, oh wow. It’s crazy seeing you here. How are you?” I gulp nervously.

“You look good Dev, time has been good to you. But then again when has it not?” Brandon says as he looks at me like he’s about to take my throat from me right here in this store.

As I prepare to answer him, someone loudly over talks me.

“Babe, BABE.. do you want movie popcorn or kettle corn?” I turn to see a bubbly perky breasted young lady yelling to her significant other about popcorn. I turned back around to see if I see him, just for my heart to sink as I realize that there’s nobody here but me and Brandon here. She’s talking to him. Oh my God, he has a girlfriend.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, I was just trying to get a hold of my fiancé, I didn’t mean to bump you, my apologies” she smiles.

“Kettle Corn baby, thank you” he replies.

She skips off to honor his request. I stand there putting my broken heart back in my chest, not making it obvious that I’m literally breaking apart inside. FIANCÉ!?!? What in the fuck is this? After 6 years together, he never asked me to marry him. I’m even more convinced that it was never going to be me.

“Well congratulations to you and your fiancé, you deserve happiness. Be well Brandon.” I say tearfully as I run off, forgetting my ice cream. At this point I just want to disappear.

I get to the register, pay for my items and hurry to my car.

It was a long walk to my car. I always parked far from stores because I loved to get my steps in. Every step counts to me. So I had enough time to cry myself to the car and be over it by the time I started my car.

I open my trunk and back seat to place my purse down as I organize my groceries in the back, just incase if I needed room for a surprise bullseye store trip. I think after that encounter, I deserve some retail therapy now.

As I near the finish of my organization, I feel someone tap me from behind and say “I thought we discussed you parking way the hell back here. Nobody can see you back here.” Brandon says with what looks like chunky monkey ice cream in his hands.

“What the fuck are you doing back here? Where’s your fiancé? Why are you here? I-“ he stops me mid sentence, placing the ice cream in my hand.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you about Keisha. You didn’t deserve to find out like this” he says looking at me sincerely.

“You don’t owe me anything, we are over. It’s your life. We have both clearly moved on.” I say proudly, pretending that I don’t feel like bending over right now and letting him turn me into a Twinkie.

He stares at me in my eyes with a look I haven’t seen in so long, but I remember well. I break contact and go back to packing my car so I can leave this awkward encounter.

He grabs my arm forcefully, making me drop my car keys in the backseat. Turning me towards him, forcing me to look at him. I begin to tear away in anger because I’m loosing control to my body.

“Get the fuck off me Brandon, what in the hell is your problem. Let me the fuck go.”

I try to break free from his grip. I feel his dick literally growing with anticipation the more I fight.

He stops me and looks me in my eyes. He’s subdued me with his piercing glare. He presses up against me, placing his hands on my body. One softly but firmly on my neck and the other on my left breast, lightly massaging it and grazing the nipple ever so softly. My breathing becomes shallow and scattered. What is he doing? Why is he doing this? Isn’t his fiancé near by or in the car wondering where he is. I’m sure she’s looking for him. In this moment, I don’t think either one of us cares. My pussy is wet and gushing between my panties that I know is drenched at this point.

“I know you feel what I feel for you. I haven’t had a day go by that I haven’t thought about you Dev. We broke up, but never really let go. If you tell me to let you go right now, I’ll stop and walk away forever. You want me to stop?” He says while looking me in my dough eyes. I have no voice to even reply. My red lips are pursed and parted from the small breaths I continue to take. I shake my head no while staring him completely in his eyes.

He leans onto me, kissing me softly, hand still wrapped around my neck. He kisses my lips softly and becomes more aggressive every time he touches his lips to mine. He parts my lips to slide his tongue inside my mouth, I close my mouth to proceed to suck his tongue. Feeling now that his dick is rock hard.

“Show me that you still love me” he says as I’m already unbuckling his jeans. I drop to my knees and open my mouth. Giving him my entire throat to use as he pleases. Forcing my head on and off his dick, using my mouth as his personal pocket pussy. Grabbing both sides of my face, moaning loudly in this parking structure like we are outside alone. He literally has no fear of being caught in this moment. Brandon’s dick is so deep down my throat that he’s breathing for the both of us.

I feel his precum slip pass my lips. He stops. He pulls me off my knees and stands me up, just to pull down my leggings, revealing my cummed in panties. He begins to take his dick to rub my clit while I stand there defenseless.

Brandon forcefully turns me around, placing me in position. I automatically arch the posture of my back, taking my hands to spread my giant ass to show my wet dripping pussy that’s salivating for his erection to be inside me.

“Such a good girl, still obedient like I remember. Tell me what you want” he orders me.

“Fuck me hard please. Take my pussy from me” I say patiently waiting for him to beat my pussy like an Undertaker versus Mankind cage match.

He forces his dick inside my tight wet pussy, moaning hard as he enters. I grip him hard with my pussy as he’s thrusting aggressively in and out of me.

He’s pulsating inside of me as he’s moving. I’m feeling every inch of him as he’s continuing to grow inside of me. Just moving back and forth, harder and harder. I’m moaning so loud and hard, tears in my eyes from how good it feels to have his dick inside me. Holding my breasts as he’s making me take his dick roughly outside where everyone can see.

“Oh my God Dev, you’re gonna make me cum. I’m about to cum. Do you want it in your favorite place?” He says as I scream out “Yes” in reply.

I fall to my knees like a sinner who needs prayer, open my mouth to the heavens and wait for him to bless me. He releases an outpouring of his creaminess all over my face and mouth, as I devour every drop that hits my throat.

He moans as he shakes out every drop til he’s empty. I swallow the rest of him and what’s left of my pride as he kisses me in completion. My pants still around my ankles, he grips my ass holding me in place as he continues to kiss me softly.

I buckle his pants as he helps me with mine. I brush my hand across his face and we embrace each other knowing that he has to go.

“Goodbye Brandon.” I kiss him on the cheek. He walks away silently. Staring back a few times before he’s out of my view.

I said last time would be the last time.

Happy Monday 💋

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miraclewoozi · 10 months

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ODE TO A CONVERSATION (STUCK IN YOUR THROAT) - c.sc

Everything with Seungcheol has always been easy. Easier than with anyone else, anyway. (and it hits me — i don’t want anybody else touching you like i do, like i do, like me. is it okay? that i don’t want anybody else touching you like i do.)

pairing; choi seungcheol x fem!reader. genre; smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) with a little bit of plot. friends-ish to lovers to (healthy) exes to fwb to -- warnings; writing early parts of this felt low-key pretentious but it was kinda on purpose because i was trying something stylistic and outside my normal?? so??? but on a real: swearing. alcohol consumption (they aren’t drunk at the time of having sex). reader is written to be wearing makeup. it's kinda just filth. proof read but all the words just melted together eventually (if i missed a typo, no i didn't <3) smut warnings under the cut! w/c; 6k. a/n; del water gap’s ode to a conversation stuck in your throat was my most listened to song last year. i now can’t listen to it without thinking about s.coups (i also just point blank can't stop thinking about s.coups) -- enjoy x

smut warnings: big! dick! seungcheol!, making out, fingering, oral (f rec), unprotected p-in-v sex (make good choices), lil bit of edging if u squint, overstimulation if u tilt ur head like 82º to the left, manhandling, soft-ish dom!cheol, lotta praise, use of pet names (babe, baby good girl, my girl, sweetheart), kinda possessive!cheol, jealous!cheol, biting and marking (hickeys, digging nails in), light light light light light crying/dacryphilia (not really, like there are Some tears in eyes but just to be safe ig)

Everything with Seungcheol has always been easy.

Easier than with anyone else, anyway.

You’d known him in passing for a long time before anything happened. A friend of a friend — someone you always smiled at and chatted with at social events, because he was easy to smile at, and so very easy to chat to. You can’t even remember which birthday or New Year’s party or Halloween bash or Saturday night jamboree was the first: they’ve since all just dissolved into one pleasantly foggy memory, and every time you saw him thereafter he made you feel so comfortable, so at home that it felt like the hundredth.

And it continued that way for a few years. Pleasantries exchanged in friends' kitchens, conversations across beer-garden tables. Catching up on each other's lives in a hallway outside the bathroom for handfuls of minutes at a time before one of you inevitably got tugged away by the friend you were waiting for. You were comfortable with him, around him: he just had that kind of energy. So on a big group night out one evening, when you found yourself feeling a little uncomfortable being flirted with by someone you had never met, you instinctively flashed Seungcheol a look from across the bar. He came straight over and immediately to your rescue; with him slipping all too naturally into the fake role of your unimpressed significant other, you realised that it was easy to be whisked away under his arm, easy to let him buy you your next drink, easy to let him kiss you breathless just to really drive the pretend point home.

Staring up at him after, feeling his drink-chilled hands cupping your cheeks, watching his gaze flicker between your lips and your eyes, you realised that igniting a spark had never felt so…

And it was easy to kiss him again later that night under the influence of a little too much wine and blanketed by a couple of lowered inhibitions. It was easy to giggle into the crook of his neck as he leaned against a stone wall, trailing his fingers up and down your arms, rambling about how he wanted to kiss you again and again and again and forever, maybe, because he thought your smile was beautiful and your lips were so soft and you tasted like cherries, and he liked cherries, and if you could kiss him every day he’d never have a reason to be unhappy ever again. It was so fucking easy to fumble in your purse for your phone, to let him put in his number, and when he asked you if he could take you out for dinner, when he messily typed a text message out begging the same question and sent it to you (‘so we both remember, tomorrow’), it was so, so easy to say yes.

Then, the first date? It was beyond easy. You talked and talked and laughed and laughed, each of you having a few cocktails with your food, never running short of conversation, never not finding little ways to touch each other both under and over the table. Arranging the second, and then the third, and inviting him up for a coffee after date number five was easy, and falling into bed with him was easy. Holding him close, your sweat-slicked bodies moving as one entity in the dark: it was easy, and the pillow-talk after about what this growing thing between you was, came so damn…

So you introduced him to your parents, and your other friends, and in turn he did the same with you. Two and a half years breezed by, then, and even the hard parts… Even the arguing and time spent away from one-another, whether he was sleeping out on your couch following an emotionally charged spat or trips taken as part of his job demanded he spend weeks at a time without you. The hard parts? By comparison to everyone before him, they were easy. Anniversaries and birthdays and Valentine’s days: he spoiled you, and you doted on him, and being together was just so–…

Even the day you decided to end your romantic pursuit, while impassioned, wasn’t hard. In part, maybe it was because it was a long time coming: you still loved each other deeply but your lives were so chaotic and different, and it wasn’t fair to keep waiting around for each other when it just clearly wasn’t your time. And in part, because he was so calm in how he held your hand tightly in his (even when he dried your tears), how he kissed your forehead, in how he told you that you deserved more than the life he could give you. And at the end of it all, when he promised to always be there for you, naturally you promised the same back.

Keeping that promise? Well. It was easy.

So what if it took a few weeks for things to feel sort of normal? If you had to remember how to greet him without offering your lips for a kiss or your arms for a hug? If you had to get used to sleeping alone, and waking up alone, all over again? The thing that mattered was that he was still in your life, and you were still in his: your relationship wasn’t broken, it was just different, and once the little transition period was over, once you were both used to your new normal… Being ‘just friends’ was kind of easy.

(Kind of, being the operative phrase.)

Six months post split, you mentioned to him in passing that you were going on a date the following day. As soon as you realised what you’d said, you regretted bringing it up, but without missing a beat Seungcheol lowered his drink and raised an eyebrow at you, excitedly asking you to tell him everything. The person’s name, what they were like, how you met them, where you were going. He didn’t feel like your ex-boyfriend, then and there: he felt like a best friend. So you told him every detail, and he listened intently, following up by requesting you text him when you got to the date and again when you got home so he knew you were safe. Of course, you said that you would. First, because it was sensible. Second, his requests were easy enough.

And the date went okay, all things considered: the guy was nice, if a little bit awkward, and you had a good time bowling with him and playing some games in the old arcade, but there just wasn’t a spark. Everything felt difficult. Forced. So when he was the one to say to you after that he’d had a nice evening but felt that maybe you should just be friends, you couldn’t help but feel relieved. Letting out a breath and giving a genuine smile, you agreed, thanking him for his refreshing candour, before bidding him good night and making your way back to your car.

You held your phone between your fingertips for a while as the engine ran and the heating started to kick in, slowly warming you from the outside, in. As you thawed, you bit the inside of your cheek absentmindedly, a potentially questionable decision planting itself in your mind. Your body didn’t mind how good of an idea your brain thought it was, though. Your fingers moved entirely of their own accord; finding and pressing Seungcheol’s contact name was so starkly different to everything else had been, all damn night. It was easy. His sleep-roughened voice drifting down the phone sounded so easy. Asking if he minded you swinging by his place for a coffee and a debrief felt easy.

Two hours later, writhing on his mattress, two orgasms deep with his head still buried between your thighs and one of his hands groping at your tit as if his life depended on it?

Fucking. Easy.

So then, started the pattern. Waking up the next morning absolutely swimming in one of his oversized t-shirts should’ve felt like guilt and a betrayal of all your self-growth, of your moving on, of your friendship. It should’ve felt uncomfortable and gross and maybe a little panic-inducing, but it never did. It was warm and cosy, it was familiar and comforting, and when he greeted you ‘good morning’ with a pillow to the face, you knew that nothing was ruined; rather, this was just another new difference to your ever-changing relationship with him. Waking up this way… Well, it felt—

Look, you’re only human. You both have needs. After spending two and a half years learning each other's bodies, being together in that way again came so, so…

After every date gone wrong, after every stressful week at work, in the midst of every family drama and friendship breakdown, you found yourself seeking respite in his apartment, between his bedsheets. In his tongue lapping at your pussy; in the head of his cock bruising the back of your throat until he spilled his release into your mouth; in the slow, deep, precise thrusts of his hips as he buried himself inside you over and over and over and over, taking your mind off the stress and concentrating only on making you feel good, on helping you forget everyone and everything else–…

And now?

Well, now, you’re on your way back from yet another miserable date.

About three months ago, you stopped even considering giving the taxi drivers directions to your own place. Now, when you slide into the backseat, you automatically reel off the address you always end up at after a night like this. When your dates only talk about themselves, or say something so wildly out of pocket that it makes your toes curl (and not in a good way), or exclusively go on and on and on about their ‘crazy’ ex partner, you’ve grown all too used to showing up pouting at your friend’s front door.

What?

Being greeted by his knowing smirk and him inviting you inside is familiar; stepping across the threshold and kicking off your shoes in the hallway feels just so… easy.

Flopping down on the couch is easy, and waiting for Seungcheol to come back into the living room with two gleaming glasses and a bottle of wine is easy. Shuffling closer until you have your head resting against his shoulder is easy. Sipping at a chilled glass of rosé with his arm around you, the tip of his finger rubbing tiny circles against the point of your shoulder, eyes fluttering at this perfectly normal, totally platonic, absolutely-not-leading-anywhere-this-time contact is…

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks a few seconds after you set your now half-empty glass down. Your lips curl a little into a grimace on one side and a soft laugh rumbles deep in his chest.

You swear you can feel it vibrate all the way down to your bones.

“What is there to even talk about?” you sigh. “He wouldn’t stop comparing me to his mother, strike one. Spent twenty minutes explaining the plot of my favourite movie back to me, strike two. And then, after all that, threw a tantrum when I swerved his kiss goodbye after he’d eaten basically a whole loaf of garlic bread. Strike three. You’re out.”

He laughs again, and you adjust your head to peer up at him but he isn’t looking at you. He’s staring off at the opposite wall, not even glancing down when his arm tightens to pull you even closer. On cue, you nuzzle your head down into the muscle beneath his t-shirt, and you sigh.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says breezily. “Just… You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

“I don’t deliberately go out with people one screw short of a toolbox, Cheol,” you grumble, lightly slapping his chest. “They always seem fine when we start talking.”

“Mhm,” he hums. You feel him move slightly and then his lips are being pressed to the part of your hair. You’re sure it’s supposed to be a little condescending, but it kind of tingles instead. But that’s just because of the way his breaths play over your roots. Isn’t it? “I know.”

“Trust me, I’d love nothing more than to find someone who—”

“Hey, I know, y/n,” he says again, still softly but just a little firmer this time. “It’s not your fault all these guys are dicks. But-…”

He trails off, tongue pressed lightly against his top teeth, and decides that maybe finishing this sentence isn’t the smart way to proceed. You wait a few seconds, just in case he changes his mind, and poke at his chest again when he doesn’t.

“But what?” You ask.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. It was a stupid joke. Don’t worry about it.”

“Tell me,” you whine. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

It’s his turn to sigh, now. “But…” he starts, pausing for a mixture of allowing his nerves to settle and for dramatic effect. “I’m not complaining: the worse your date goes, the better sex we have after.”

It momentarily stuns you into silence and you suck your teeth at the remark, shaking your head. But you don’t sit up, you don’t shove him away, you don’t argue the point he’s just made whether it was a joke or not. Because…

“I hate that you’re right.”

His hand slides down behind you until it’s wrapped around your waist, his bicep strong against your back and his fingers light as they fiddle with the fabric of your blouse.

“No you don’t,” he tells you, lips tweaking up on one side.

You sigh, burrowing closer into his chest. He’s wearing the cologne he knows you like most and it smells faint, worn, as if he’s had it on for hours, all despite being only dressed in basketball shorts and a white vest. His plans tonight started and ended with you, and showing up here wasn’t promised until you were on his doorstep. Something about knowing he wore it just in case triggers an all too familiar ache between your legs.

Giving in to it?

Ha.

It’s too fucking easy.

“Shut up,” you grumble. Your hand uncurls and your fingers splay over his chest, confessing your agreement and laying the foundations for you even if you deny what you want out loud. “Yes, I do.”

“Oh?” He asks at the exact moment you can feel his nails graze at your skin beneath your shirt. “Do you really?”

“Yeah.” You shift slightly, searching for just a crumb of relief from the press of your thighs, but it never comes.

“I see.” He flattens his palm against your side, the other hand tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, eyes not quite meeting yours as they fixate on the strands already sliding back to their former place against your cheek.

He gently clears his throat, tongue darting out over his lips for the most fleeting of moments, and when he speaks again, it’s lower, quieter, softer. “But if you hate it sooo much…” he ducks his head, close enough that his lips brush the corner of your mouth as he moves them. “Why are you here?”

He bumps the tip of his nose against your cheek, subtly turning your face so if you so much as shuffle, hiccup, breathe in too deeply, your smiles would meet. But they don’t. A hair’s breadth apart, you linger, eyes meeting his in a scorching challenge. One he doesn’t back down from. One he holds, and holds, and holds – waiting, for you, for his answer.

“Because,” you croak. Your throat feels dry, your eyelids suddenly heavy, lashes fluttering.

“Because?” he taunts, his chuckled exhale tickling the tiny hairs all over your skin.

You maintain his gaze still, and he chuckles, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. when you don’t speak for a few seconds more, he takes it upon himself to finish the sentence for you.

“Because you know,” he drawls, gravelly but still somehow heaven-sent and honey-sweet. “That no-one else does it for you the same way I do. Do they?”

You shake your head, the muscles in your neck tight as you wrestle with them not to surge forward and topple against him in a kiss. Seungcheol is an easily pleased man, but you know he loves a bit of a chase and it would be a little rude not to reward his hospitality by giving him one.

“Say it,” he urges. You’re acutely aware of how his breaths stop fanning against your face once the words are out of his mouth, but you don’t give him anything yet. “Come on. You could have any one of those idiots if you wanted them, but you don’t.” A pause. “Do you?”

You swallow hard, cheeks growing hot. You shake your head again, “No.”

“Because…”

And after one, two, three, four, five thundering beats of your heart—

“Because I want you.”

Seungcheol smirks as he pulls your chin up, finally bringing his plush lips down against your own. It’s soft. almost tender. Barely moving — just a press, but it sends waves of energy through you anyway.

“You’ve got me,” he says, pulling back an inch, studying your desperate eyes with his own. “Always gonna have me.”

And suddenly, it’s like his entire world might stop if he lets you go.

Both of his hands cup your cheeks as you shift up onto your knees, your own fingers grasping for dear life at his vest. He kisses you as if he could swallow you whole: hard and deep, breathing hot through his nose as his tongue works its way into your mouth and finds your own. You groan, and hearing the sound draws one out of him, too. There’s just something about kissing Seungcheol, and being kissed by him: you don’t even have to think. He just does. You just do. It’s easy.

His hands find the bottom of your shirt and he pulls upwards, separating from your lips to pull it over your head and toss it haphazardly towards the floor. He reconnects with you almost immediately, hands sliding down from your face to your exposed neck, to your shoulders, toying with the strap of your bra.

“You wear this for me, or him?” he asks, breathing heavily as he looks down at your covered tits, the red and white garment sitting pretty against your skin.

“Who d’you think?” you ask, equally fighting to gasp air into your lungs.

“Better not have been for fuckin’... Captain mommy issues,” he mutters, kissing you hard one more time before his lips attach to the side of your neck. “Never liked the sound of that guy. Thought you were too good for him.”

“S’that right?” You ask, tilting your head back and stuttering out a sigh, lacing it with wisps of a laugh. “You never said so.”

He sucks your skin into his mouth and you swear you can feel every capillary beneath the surface burst one by one, your body-heat climbing to almost unbearable territory. “You were excited,” he says. “Just ‘cause I don't agree with your choices, doesn’t mean I’m gonna be an ass about it.”

And for someone trying their best to cover your throat in as many bruises as possible (no doubt so that if you bump into the asshole from HR who took you out tonight when you’re back at work on Monday, he’ll see that you had a plenty good time without him), it… feels kind of sweet that he’d hold himself back in the name of your theoretical happiness.

“Too good to me,” you chuckle. You’ve long since released your hold on his vest and are now threading your fingers through his hair. He kisses and sucks down over your collarbone, grinning against your skin all the while.

“So?” he asks, tugging the top of your bra in between his teeth.

You glance down at him, biting your bottom lip at the sight. His pupils are blown-out, drowning his familiar warm, chocolatey eyes in black pools of desire. No lies, that’s always been your agreement. No lies. So you tell him the truth, pushing your chest up towards him and pressing his head down slightly so his top lip brushes against your tit.

“Wore it for you, Cheol.”

“Mhm. That’s my girl.”

He sits up straight and pulls you down to him, smashing his lips against yours again as his hands slide around your back, fingertips making quick work of your bra clasp. He pulls the straps down your arms, grunting at the feeling of your breasts relaxing against his own chest; the bra joins your shirt on the floor, and soon after follows his vest, your hands clawing at it to get it off him as fast as you can.

“Up,” he says as your hands trail over his stomach, fingers dipping into every groove of muscle, feeling how they ripple as he reflexively tenses them under your touch. “Now.”

You oblige, climbing off the couch and standing upright. His hand finds the back of your shoulder and he guides you around to the side of the sofa, promptly pushing you down over the arm-rest so your face meets the cushions you were both just sitting on. He pulls your pants down your legs and helps you step out of them, dropping down to his knees and kneading at your thighs with a guttural moan.

“Gonna make you forget all about him, y/n,” he says. “Make you feel so good you won’t even remember his name.”

“Please,” you gasp, feeling his teeth sink into your ass. “So-... fucking good to me…”

He adjusts the position of your legs, bumping them apart until he can settle on his knees between them. His nose drags against the crease between the top of your thigh and the bottom of your ass, his lips trailing kisses all the way from the outside of your leg to where your pussy is throbbing for him. He skips over it, though, nipping and licking at the back of your other thigh, until you’re rocking your hips back to try and push him into your core.

“Be a good girl,” he chuckles, thumbing over the wet-patch in your panties. “I’m gonna look after you. I promise.”

His tongue meets your wetness just a moment after, dragging over the fabric and making you whimper. Your hands scramble to clutch onto something, one grabbing the edge of the seat cushion and the other balling into a fist.

“Fuck, Cheol,” you hiss, feeling the heat from his mouth all over you. “Please – I need it. I need you.”

“Shh,” he says. You can feel his lips twist into a smile. God, you wish you could see him right now. “I’ve got you.”

When exactly his fingers tucked themselves under the waistband of your underwear, you’re not sure: all you know is that one minute, he’s breathing in your scent through the seat of your panties, and the next he’s yanking them down your legs and diving into your cunt like it’s his last meal on death-row. The sheer force of his hands gripping your thighs and his head burying itself between them makes you stumble forwards, the couch groaning as it shifts against the laminate flooring, and you cry out a wet sob of his name.

Who were you kidding, before, when you thought that this wasn’t going to go anywhere tonight?

The build-up to this started the second you told him about the date a week and a half ago.

But you can’t think about the mediocre pasta dish you ate this evening, or the moron who sat across from you at the table who kept checking his phone and glancing over your shoulder. You can’t think about how many times he went to the bathroom after receiving a text, or how he came back grinning cockily before he sat back down.

All you can think about is how deep Seungcheol’s tongue fucks into you. How he fucking slurps all the wetness your pussy can give him, how he groans and moans and chuckles every time he shifts his head forward and flicks the muscle over your clit. Your head is spinning and your eyes begin smarting at the corners when his nails on one hand dig harshly into the fat at the top of your thigh. It stings, but it feels so fucking good. Your knees are weak, you’re about to bite clean through your lip in an attempt to be respectful to Seungcheol’s neighbours, and your knuckles are sore from the force with which your fist is clenched.

Lord, he’s good.

“Don’t hold back,” he gasps, pulling away from you, a string of his own spit and your arousal still connecting him to your pussy. “C’mon, babe. I can feel you’re close.”

The loss of his mouth genuinely feels like the end of the world and you could buckle, in this moment. But he’s done this on purpose: he always does. He knows you. He knows the sounds you make and the way your body moves when you’re tantalisingly on the edge of your climax. His thumbs rub circles into your thighs and you just know he’s got the most obnoxious, insufferable grin on his face behind you while he does it: you can picture it, so perfectly. So easily.

The orgasm you didn’t quite reach starts to ebb away from you and you give a grumble of frustration, pushing up onto your palms to turn around and look at him.

“You’re such a bastard, Cheol,” you hiss, and he grins back at you, his lips swollen and shiny as he licks over them.

“Get that pretty face back down, baby. I’m not done.”

It feels like a delightful punch in the gut, so you do. You drop back down onto your elbows, feeling him shift his position but you can’t see to what; his body heat never leaves yours even when his hands aren’t on you anymore, so you know he hasn’t stood up or gone far. It’s only when you clear your throat that you feel him again. Sat down with his back to the couch, between your thighs, nosing at your clit to get you worked up all over again: his fingers trail over your folds, collecting your arousal, spreading your lips and tonguing between them. You whine for him, keening and confused but overwhelmed at the stark shift from before. How he touches your pussy like it’s the first time, like it’s the last.

He presses one long finger inside you, free hand pushing your hips into just the right position that he can suck your clit into his mouth. You feel yourself grinding down against his hand, begging him for more without having the words to ask for it, but Seungcheol doesn’t need to be asked. It’s intuitive to him. Eating you out could well be his day job. Another finger joins the first and he pumps them in and out of you at a pace you adore, his tongue flicking precisely over the bud in his mouth.

Your disappointingly lost orgasm from before starts to creep up on you again, and you know he knows it too. But this time, he doesn’t slow. This time, he doesn’t stop. He hums in the back of his throat: it’s permission, you realise, to come undone; burying your face further into the cushions, you let out a muffled series of expletives, sobs, moans of his name. You tumble over the edge with a broken cry, fingers curling into the couch cushions, and he only pulls away when your knees actually give out.

His strong frame is the only thing still holding you up by the time you’ve stopped twitching through the aftershocks, remembering how it feels to have full lungs and a working pair of eyes. You roll your head to the side as he slips out from beneath you, immediately sliding his arm around your waist and leaning over you to keep you steady. Through the material of his shorts, you can feel his hard-on poking at your ass: the fact that you’re this fucked and he hasn’t put his cock inside you yet makes your eyes water.

“Okay?” he asks, pressing tender kisses down the length of your spine. You just breathe, nodding with difficulty owed to your current position and the way all your muscles suddenly feel a hundred times heavier than normal. “Talk to me, sweetheart. You okay?”

“M’okay,” you say. “Just… gimme a sec…”

He keeps pressing his lips all over your back, hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips as you fully recover. You nod again when you’re a little more communicative, pushing up onto your elbows once more.

“Said I’d look after you,” he says. “And you were so good for me.”

“Yeah?” you ask, swallowing hard as you twist your spine uncomfortably to look back at him. Fuck it, maybe he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. Is that some great secret? Is it such a crime?

“You always are, baby.”

He looks down at you again: at the shape of your body, bent so crudely over the arm of his couch. At your messed-up hair, your smeared makeup, your soft, dewy eyes. He bites his bottom lip, swallowing hard, running a finger from between your shoulder-blades all the way down towards your ass.

“Can I?” he asks, pushing his hips against you again, your still-soaked pussy smearing arousal all over the front of his shorts where it meets them.

“Please,” you nod, shifting your legs slightly to try and get more comfortable. He drops his shorts in a matter of seconds, cock springing free from their confines. It’s thick and veiny, leaking in his palm as he strokes it, one hand coming back to rest on your hip.

“Fuck, babe,” he sighs. “You’re doing so good.”

The head feels delicious against your swollen cunt and you gasp at the pressure of him sliding through your folds, leisurely lubing himself up with your arousal. It glides over your clit and you can’t contain the slight hiss that escapes you. He starts to say something, his voice just audible to you where you’re propped, but for some reason he stops short, and you don’t quite hear him anyway. There’s not enough time to dwell on it though: your eyelashes flutter closed when he prods at your entrance, pushing into you with hardly any resistance at all, and his unstarted, unfinished sentence is forgotten.

It’s still a stretch to take him and he eases himself deeper until his hips are pressed fully against your ass. He rests there for a moment, letting you adjust, letting your body mould to the shape of his own, and it’s only when you reach back with one hand to gently nudge against his wrist to give an okay that he starts to move.

“Good girl,” he says, quieter this time. Like he’s distracted. Like he’s contemplating. But you don’t ask, because you don’t really want to know: every drag of his cock against your walls feels like fireworks bursting over every inch of your skin, like being engulfed in flame, and nothing could take you out of how electric you feel. “Taking me so, so well.”

His hips start to thrust against you quicker, snapping so his cock buries itself deep but mercilessly quickly into your pussy. It’s only a matter of minutes until you’re clenching around him and when you do, Seungcheol – who you noticed early on into your relationship was one of the most vocal men you’d ever had in the bedroom – stops holding back the sounds you think back to when it’s just you and your trusty vibrator against the world. You swear that half the reason your sexual chemistry with him is so unrivalled is because of how loud you can both get.

You don’t know how long he’s fucking you for, sweat beading over both of your bodies and leaving you slick all over. What you do know, though, is that when he bends down over you, supported by one hand bracing his weight against the cushion by our head, he’s close.

He isn’t groaning and grunting anymore. He’s whining. So agonisingly hard and so painfully wound up that he could snap. His voice is little more than a whimper in your ear when his lips ghost over the shell of it, thrusts slowing as he tries to stave off his high just a little bit longer.

“Wanna drown in this pussy,” he says, eyes squeezed shut, jaw falling slack as you spasm around his length again. “Shit – I love y-... love this… love this so much-...”

And this time, you fucking notice.

This time, you hear him. You know what he said before, now. When you didn’t care, when you just wanted him to fill you up, when you just wanted to have him pound into you until your brain disconnected from failed romances and shitty dating apps and people who weren’t him. Because he started to say it then, too – started to say I love y–

And this time… you say it, back.

“I love you too, Cheol.”

Jesus, fuck.

Loving Choi Seungcheol is the easiest thing in the world.

He freezes, buried inside you all the way to the hilt, a bead of sweat running down the bridge of his nose and hanging onto the tip for dear life. His eyes shoot open, his head turns, and you meet his gaze by turning your own. He’s feeling everything. All at once. So are you. Arousal and need and fear – God, so much fucking fear �� but love. Adoration, affection, endearment, devotion – shit, he feels it all, and it’s written in every line of his face, and when his lips move into a smile, when the corners of his eyes crease, when he lets it wash over him, it feels better than any orgasm he’ll have for the rest of his life.

Even the one that explodes through him when you start to grind yourself back on his cock and he lets go, fingers scrabbling to hold your hand, lips finding home on the back of your shoulder. He paints your insides with his cum, fucks it into you for as long as he can physically withstand. You don’t even have it in you to chase another climax of your own, too blissed out in the relief of your own feelings to feel inclined to try.

So, maybe there’s a reason you kept accepting dates with men you knew you weren’t compatible with.

Maybe there’s a reason you didn’t give those other people a real chance.

Maybe there’s a reason you always found yourself looking forward to the end of every night having dinner with a stranger.

Because all the roads lead you here. Because it’s easy being here – it’s where you belong.

He stays sheathed inside you for a little while longer, pressing kisses everywhere his lips can reach before he has to pull his softening cock from its home between your legs. You lament at the feeling of emptiness, even as his strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you upright for the first time in so long that your legs feel like jelly. It’s okay, though. He holds you against his chest, burying his head into your neck – there’s no way you’re going to fall.

(At least, no more than you already have.)

“I’ll give you everything,” he whispers to you, moving your hair out the way so he can press small, doting kisses to the line of your jaw. “I can give it to you. I was a fucking idiot before – I’ll give you everything I have. I don’t know if I can be perfect but anything you want–...”

“I just want you, Cheol,” you tell him. “Everything – screw all that. I just want you.”

“Be with me?” he asks. You nod, feeling him light up in a smile for the hundredth time tonight. Even though you can’t see it, you’re sure it’s as blindingly beautiful as the first smile he sent your way, all those years ago. (It was Joshua’s birthday. You remember that, now.) And the second. And every damn time since. “Forever, this time.”

“Forever, this time,” you agree.

Because spending forever with the man who lifts you into his arms and carries you towards his shower, so you can clean down and get ready for bed? Right now, it sounds so –

But everything with Seungcheol has always been easy. Easier than with anyone else.

thank u so much for reading! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all always so appreciated<3

#s.coups smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol smut #seungcheol smut #s.coups x reader #j writes.#*#i am running into the woods and never coming back. i don't know who i became while writing this. it wasn't me it was patricia.#send help. i had one singular marble left. seungcheol has fucking FLOWN away with it. i have gone fully fucking insane.#good BY E

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burst-of-iridescent · 5 months

Note

Hey does everyone remember when Aang physically hurt Katara via burning her due to his own negligence with fire because he didn't listen at all to her concerns? But all of Katara's concerns were her being worried for him getting hurt and not herself, and then he hurts her badly, this never gets addressed again in the show, but I remember this vividly.

i actually like this scene on its own.

aang burning katara is a good character building moment because it's a brutal reminder of his own capacity for destruction. he needs to understand that his reckless actions can have horrific repercussions in order to fully realize the weight of his responsibility as both a firebender and the avatar, and it makes the moment where he uses zhao's recklessness against him more impactful. it also sets up the "water = life, fire = death" dichotomy that's part of katara's arc on viewing the world in binaries, which will later be broken down in book 3.

but ultimately the incident is still of greater significance to aang, and he's the one to bring it up in the guru and western air temple episodes, telling both guru pathik and zuko about his guilt over burning katara and his refusal to firebend ever again. this experience is also what leads him to accept zuko as his firebending teacher, and then finally forgive himself when he learns the true meaning of firebending. for the most part, it's a well-sustained arc and one of the few narratives aang has that is actually brought to completion.

do i wish that katara and aang had actually talked about his actions beyond this episode? yes. do i wish the aftermath had been focused a little more on katara instead of showcasing the impact of her physical injuries mostly through aang's continued self-flagellation? yes. but as a one-off incident contained to a single episode, i don't mind it.

what i do mind, however, is that this is not the last time the show is going to use katara as a lynchpin for aang's character development.

in the book 2 premiere, katara is turned into a pawn to propel aang into the avatar state. in the guru, her imprisonment is the reason that aang chooses to go back to ba sing se instead of unlocking his chakras. that is three separate times now that katara has been damselled in order to facilitate key turning points in aang's narrative, but not once does the same apply in reverse. there is never a moment where aang is the only one put in danger solely to drive katara's arc, the way she is in his. the closest we get is katara bringing aang back to life, but even then his death is still the result of his own choices and more integral to his storyline than hers.

now, compare this to the final agni kai.

at first glance, katara being put in danger just to complete zuko's redemption looks like the same tired trope, and had the scene ended at his sacrifice, it would be. but crucially, it's katara who continues the fight. katara who defeats the scion of fire nation destruction at the height of her power. katara who saves zuko just as he saved her.

in proving herself a master waterbender powerful enough to defeat azula and save someone she loves - someone who sacrificed themselves for her - from fire nation aggression, katara brings her own arc full circle. it is in triumphing over azula by saving each other that zuko and katara become the people they were always meant to be, and so their individual arcs are brought to their narrative culmination through bookending the other. the final agni kai works where the kat.aang moments fall short because it is of equal significance to both zuko and katara's narratives.

obviously, this is not to say that it's bad for certain characters to exist just to drive another character's arc. it's inevitable that some will be written solely to fulfill that purpose because a story only has so much narrative space, and it usually can't - and shouldn't - be divided equally amongst every single character.

but if we're talking about two main characters who end up in a lifelong romantic relationship, and it's the female character being repeatedly damselled to drive the male character's storyline within an already imbalanced dynamic... perhaps it's time to rethink a few things.

#anti kataang #zutara

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psychewritesbs · 8 months

Text

Chapter 236: Go South—JJK is generational

Gosh. Can we pleeeease just like... have a moment of silence for the one and only...THE Man, Gojo Satoru.

Ok, time's up.

Moving on.

Word vomit under the cut.

The process of reading this chapter was a very interesting one this week because the fandom got really noisy as soon as the leaks dropped.

Between allegations of bad writing and the utter sense of grief Gojo fans were expressing, it was quite the 💩 storm.

And then the actual scanlations started dropping, and little by little they replaced most of the noise with the utter sense of calm and peace and satisfaction that Gojo felt in his last moments in this plane of existence.

I gotta say that I just absolutely loved how Gege depicted those emotions (outside of Gojo's "dream") through shots of the devastated Shinjuku district.

The remnants of the battle of The Strongest, as if the landscape and the buildings themselves represented the end of an era, the devastation of the structure of Jujutsu society itself.

After all, as The Strongest sorcerer in the modern era, Gojo represented the very system he was trying to destroy.

Gege loves his irony.

Now, I would normally say that the words in the speech bubbles are superfluous because Gege creates such a beautiful atmosphere through the setting alone. But it is the words themselves that re-contextualize not just the battle, but also shed more light on Sukuna's interest in Megumi, which I feel we haven't seen the extent of what he had in mind.

Now I'm hoping this isn't a dream

Listen, I must admit I've never cared for Gojo.

I don't hate him, I don't love him, I simply never really cared for him.

That, of course, changed with this chapter.

And it is perhaps Gojo's death that really solidified in my mind the idea that one of the underlying themes in jjk is... dun dun dun... DEATH.

Yeah, I know. Sue me, I'm late to the party lmao.

But it's not just death itself that is a theme, but rather the face we put on when death comes knocking at the door.

There aren't many things that we can be certain of in this life, but death is one of them. So how we confront death and our mortality shapes the sense of self.

I know a lot of people were dissatisfied with the transition from 235 to 236 and Gege not showing how/when Gojo got slashed in half, but I find the abrupt transition makes sense, and I even dare say was... quite poetic.

For one, now knowing that Gojo knew Sukuna was holding back, a lot of incidents throughout the battle are given new meaning. Like that look of confidence on Gojo's face as he "thinks" he's finally managed to "get through" to Sukuna.

So I have to say that I loved that Gege starts the chapter with Gojo becoming aware that he has died or is dying.

In other words, Sukuna's attack was so sudden that Gojo's next moment of awareness as "Gojo Satoru" is in what we would normally think of as "the light at the end of the tunnel" where he is greeted by people who were of significance to him in his youth.

And can we please just talk about how Geto is the first person he sees when he becomes aware that he is dying?

Please. This is fucking poetry!

Insert keyboard smash.

Screaming in jjk.

Go South

I literally lack the words to explain why I love this whole chapter so much. Which is a lot to say because I am about to word vomit about it. But like...

Again, hindsight is 20/20.

I always thought of the panel above as Geto being jealous of Gojo surpassing him in strength but, in retrospect, I think Geto's disappointment had more to do with Gojo's sense of self over-identifying with the title "the strongest" and how that made him harder to relate to, which is one of the main themes in this chapter. I'll come back to this in a sec.

But first...

Quick depth psych segway. I think I've said this before, but it bears repeating again that an overwhelming sense of self is all ego. There's nothing wrong with ego per se.

The problem is that an over-identification with ego means inherent separateness because, as an organ of the psyche, the ego sense of self is what gives us a separate identity from the collective.

On the other hand, soul/heart (another organ in the psyche) is the principle of relatedness--love, the single energy that can bring us all together as a collective.

But as we already know, the stronger the sorcerer, the more overwhelming the sense of self.

Unfortunately, because an overwhelming sense of self = separateness, this also means the person in question can't relate to others.

And is this not thematically perfect for a sorcerer whose perfected cursed technique was meant to render others unable to "reach him"?

In other words, Gojo saw himself as separate (because he was "The Strongest") and that made it harder for him to relate to others, but only because he self-identified as "The Strongest".

Infinity ∞, in this sense, is also about the self-fulfilling prophecy Gojo was stuck playing out in his life in regards to seeing himself as "The Strongest".

But like a serpent eating its own tail, Gojo came back full circle, and in the moments before his death, learned that what really mattered to him was not strength for the sake of strength, but rather the connections he had fostered with others.

PLEASE. GEGE. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKING FUCK?!!!!!!!!!!!

To bring it back to "Satoru became 'The Strongest'"...

I just loved so much that seeing Geto as soon as he becomes aware he's died felt like an encounter that meant Gojo had returned to the person he was before he self-identified as "The Strongest".

But more importantly, Gojo's imagination of himself as back when he was young also speaks both to how much he cherished that period of his life, and to how he was emotionally frozen in time due to his encounter with Toji.

It makes me wonder whether Gojo was afraid of dying alone when Toji almost killed him. So it's almost like what he took away from that battle was that he was always alone, and so he sought to push others away.

The kicker is that he simultaneously feared his existential isolation and yet craved the very source of his fear--human relations.

But in choosing self-preservation, he was a selfish to the very end.

What an idiot (tragically affectionate).

Anyways. How much of this is hc? Someone tell me please 😂. I feel like I went off the deep end in the last few paragraphs.

Like everyone else in this fandom I've lost all objectivity when it comes to Gojo because his departure from the story was truly one of the most heartbreaking moments in jjk.

I understand people's complaints about the "execution," but I think the world-wide phenomena that Gojo's death has spurred speaks to Gege's ability to elicit deeply archetypal emotional responses as a story teller.

With Gojo's death, a part of our own psyche too has died. And what's most significant about this death is that it was, true to Gojo's character, "something that needed to die because it represented the very thing it sought to destroy."

And this would be why I love Gege's writing.

A fitting way for Gojo to go out

I know not everyone agrees, but I really appreciated that he was satisfied and at peace in the very end.

He got his cake (battle to death with Sukuna) and got to eat it too (reconnected with his loved ones).

Sukuna

But we can't talk about Gojo without talking about Sukuna as the one who liberated Gojo from the burden of his existential isolation.

Sukuna gave Gojo a fun battle, but if it weren't because Sukuna figured out how to cut through Gojo's metaphorical defenses by learning to cut through space-time itself--the very fabric of reality, Gojo might not have found his humanity once again.

The outcome of this battle spells out in no uncertain terms how dire the situation is as Sukuna has proven himself to be the uncontested "Strongest".

But in a sense, the end is a new beginning, and this time, there is no light at the end of the tunnel.

JJK is generational

I get the feeling that everyone will remember where they were when this panel dropped.

I was in bed. It was 6 am and Tasokare, my miniature panther, was demanding attention.

A moot was on the way to the gym. They never made it out of the house after seeing the panel.

Another moot was completely avoiding Twitter to avoid leaks, but her brother, who does not even read jjk, saw the panel on Facebook and showed it to her.

Yet another moot was on vacation at the beach.

JJK is generational like that and there's just so much more I can say about this chapter and its implications (like the idea that Sukuna can now cut through space-time, why?! what does he want to get out of this ability?), but I just don't even know what more I can say right now.

Anyways, thanks for reading. I'm looking forward to any thoughts you might have. Just a heads up, I'm very, very slow at replying.

#jjk ch 236 #god I love jujutsu kaisen

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alina-awen-writes · 5 months

Text

Sebek x GN!Reader, Soulmate AU

Prompt: You have your soulmate’s first words on your body

When classmates asked Y/N about the one thing from the realm of Twisted Wonderland that shocked them the most, many thought it would've been magic, talking animals, overblots, ghosts, or flying brooms.

No, for Y/N, it was the fact they had a soulmate. The initial shock and hope for what their future soulmate might be like only lasted a few minutes

"HOW DARE A HUMAN BE SO CASUAL? ESPECIALLY WITH THE PRINCE OF BRIAR VALLEY"

Yep, that is the sentence that had etched itself onto Y/N's wrist as soon as the coffin opened during the initiation ceremony. It was in a rather nice cursive handwriting, but unfortunately written in all caps. According to the other students, that meant their Significant Other would be yelling during their first meeting.

On the bright side, Y/N was able to narrow out which dorm their soulmate was in. Heck, judging by the wording, they were pretty sure they figured out exactly who their soulmate was.

While they hadn't had an official first meeting yet, Y/N had heard plenty of rumors and the distant sounds of Sebek's speeches. It also helped that Hornton would occasionally mention him during the nightly strolls about the school grounds for Golem Club.

The only thing left to do was for Y/N to work up the courage to actually go and speak with Sebek. Which was practically impossible seeing as he was always busy with schoolwork and all his extracurriculars were focused on being one of Malleus' knights. On the bright side, they did share a few classes together. One of which was Professor Crewel's potions, the very class Y/N was currently zoning out in.

Their head shot up when there was a sudden loud smack on their desk "Now, now little pup. I just gave very important instructions for your next potion only to find you didn't listen to a single word. Make sure you do your best, otherwise, you'll end up in detention and back in training school. " Crewel stated with a sharp look at Y/N, "Now then, since you weren't listening I'll only repeat this once. Your partner is Sebek and your potion assignment is due next week." With that final statement, Crewel walked back to his desk.

With that stressful callout being over, little dog tags with classmate names flew around the room, each landing with the assigned partner. Y/N looked down at the tag as it landed on the desk and sighed as it confirmed what Professor Crewel had said. With a quick glance over the shoulder, they could see Sebek practically glaring holes through the back of their jacket.

While they hadn't interacted much, Sebek still wasn't a huge fan of Y/N's for a few reasons:

Y/N isn't Malleus

For some reason, beyond Sebek's comprehension, Y/N has managed to befriend Lilia and Silver

Y/N just made him feel off, which is obviously a huge reason why Y/N should never be within 100 feet of Malleus' proximity

Once again, Y/N isn't Malleus

After a few moments of preparation, Y/N gathered the potion books and decided to take the first step in talking to Sebek. However, when they turned to say hello, they noticed the knight had already disappeared.

With a small sigh, Y/N headed out and began the trek back to Ramshackle. Right as they took a left down a hallway, they bumped into someone's back.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Y/N exclaimed while trying to make sure the other student didn't drop anything.

"It's quite alright Y/N. I hadn't expected to see you until our club meeting later tonight." Hornton stated with his signature small grin as he steadied Y/N.

"Oh, it's just you Hornton! Thank the sevens, I was worried I might've bumped into one of the Pomefiore kids doing a quick touch-up. That definitely would've ended badly." Y/N laughed, followed by a sigh of relief that they had only bumped into Hornton. Right as they were about to ask him about his day, there was a sudden yell from directly behind them.

"HOW DARE A HUMAN BE SO CASUAL? ESPECIALLY WITH THE PRINCE OF BRIAR VALLEY!" Sebek yelled as he charged down the hallway towards Y/N and Hornton.......well Malleus.

Malleus simply raised an eyebrow and gave a small frown at the fact that Sebek had blown his cover, yelled at one of his few friends, and had also said that Y/N talked to him casually.

"His royal highness must be treated with high esteem at all times! Especially by those who are commoners or simple humans!" Sebek continued with his rant for a solid minute.

The entire time, Y/N slowly got more and more annoyed at all the insults that were about how they were a human and a commoner. The final straw was the comment about how Y/N wasn't even from Twisted Wonderland and thus shouldn't have the audacity to even be near Malleus. Y/N took two simple steps forward, putting them practically chest-to-chest with Sebek, resulting in making him pause, stutter, and blush.

"Do you EVER know how to talk about anything or anyone other than Malleus?" Y/N questioned in a clipped tone, which quickly changed to yelling, "I should've known since I've had THIS etched on my wrist since I walked out of that coffin!"

Y/N waved their wrist in Sebek's face, showing him the very words he had yelled only a few minutes prior, "But hey, at least my sentence gave me a warning about how rude and loud you are! Got the red flags about your volume level since it's in all caps!"

With a final huff, Y/N immediately turned around and stormed down the hallway. They muttered a quick apology to Malleus as they passed by and took a random hallway to make a quick escape. With each step, the slow realization of what had just happened slowly sunk in.

Y/N's angry stomps from the stunned Sebek soon turned into a quick sprint back home. Their only thought was that the faster they were home, the sooner they could curl up in bed and try their best to forget everything that had just happened.

Within no time, they were about ten steps from the front door. However, right as they felt the wave of relief wash over, they heard loud footsteps and yelling from behind.

"WAIT! Would you stop your measly human running speed and wait for a moment! We are not done with our conversation!" Sebek yelled as he dashed up the pathway at max fae speeds. What had taken Y/N 10 minutes to sprint, he completed within half the time. Once he had reached Y/N, Sebek slowed to a halt and immediately held their shoulders.

"I'm sorry! I was jealous you were close with his highness because I had wanted to find a way to become friends with you as well. When you first joined his club, I watched from the background to ensure you weren't trying to trick or influence him...but I ended up growing feelings for you." Sebek said softly, all while slowly moving his hands from Y/N's shoulders to gently hold their hands.

"It wasn't until today that I realized those weren't just friendships. Y/N, I've been falling in love with you. I understand if you don't forgive me and never wa-", Y/N knew Sebek would continue his apologetic rambling for another 30 minutes if he had the chance, so to cut him off they leaned over and silenced him with a hug.

"Just promise me you'll never speak to me, or any other human, that way again," Y/N muttered into Sebek's shoulder as he gently wrapped his arms around their waist.

"You have my eternal vow. I'll never say anything that could insult or harm you, for the rest of my days in this realm and the next" Sebek said solemnly.

Y/N just smiled, before looking up and pressing a kiss to Sebek's cheek. "Alrighty, since we've made up, wanna come inside so we can start on the assignment?" they asked as they tugged the blushing fae into the Ramshackle dorm.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #soulmate au #twst x reader #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek #twisted wonderland x reader

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paziffic · 1 year

Text

It is absolutely hilarious to me that Ethubs, compared to other popular ships in the fan base, is by far the most NORMAL duo.

Like ok ok, looking @last-lifeduo-standing ‘s page, the most popular ships in this fandom are those with lots of like lore, fantastical elements, or idk in-universe importance or significance that makes them stand out. Does that make sense??

For example- Desert duo. Going off popular fanon interpretations, Desert duo is a pair thats the Watchers’ favorite. They are constantly being toyed with and pulled together. One of them is also a Watcher but has no control over the terrible stuff that happens to him and his friends. And remember! This is all commonly accepted fanon stuff.

Flower husbands consists of a two-time winner of the game who won by disobeying the Watchers’ rules. The other guy got some bird curse and always dies first despite his efforts.

Team Rancher, another very popular pairing kind of is treated with the same approach. It’s got Jimmy with the canary curse and Tango is now commonly headcanoned to have a curse of meaningless death (he’s been lore-ified)

Renchanting too has evo listener Martyn, and Ren who very much leans into role playing. Their character significance is quite obvious

As for Ethubs, I’ve seen next to no posts in this fandom treating them with the same specialness that is fucking hilarious. They are literally just two assholes that won fans over by pure skrunkly scrimbloness. By no means are they normal people! They are not normal they are in fact very very strange people. But in both canon and fanon interpretations they are literally just some guys. Ok Etho has a big reputation as a minecraft legend, but one by one people (Cleo, Joel) are realizing that ok he is just some guy. There is LITERALLY an arc in canon about how much of a guy he is. There is nothing special about these two and there never will be. Sure Ethubs has angst and famous moments, but are they Watchers? Cursed? Winners? No! They are just two guys who want to spend their time playing the game being mentally unwell about each other. And the fandom (me) fucking eats it up every time.

TLDR: all of the popular duos in this fandom have heavy lore elements to them because they consist of winners, or fan-appointed watchers/listeners/cursed people.

And then there’s Ethubs

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writingforcuteppl · 1 year

Text

Letting Kenny Free-use You As A Birthday Present NSFW Headcanons

PAIRING: Kenny McCormick x Best Friend Roommate!Reader

SUMMARY: “FREE USE: A fetish where partners are allowed to fuck any part of their partner at any time”

GENRE: Smut

WARNINGS: AGED-UP CHARACTERS

So you were going down a spiral trying to come up with a birthday present for Kenny since his birthday was in a few days, and you didn’t know what to give him.

Kenny always told you he didn’t want you to get him a present, he didn’t like the idea of you spending on him but you didn’t really care about his opinion.

You usually gave him a significant gift that showed how much he meant to you, but this year you didn’t have any ideas at all.

Until one day, when Kenny left, his computer turned on

You knew it was wrong to be snooping around, but you were desperate to find the perfect gift for him

You went and read his browser history, and what you saw was intriguing. You already knew Kenny had interesting preferences, and his history was just a confirmation of it.

You noticed most of the porn links that were visited in the last days had the phrase “free-use.”

That night you did the research and found out this “free-use” thing was basically letting someone fuck you whenever and wherever they wanted

Then that’s when your idea came. What if, for a week, you let Kenny free-use you? It’s not like the two of you haven’t fucked before, so nothing will really be put at risk.

And the thought of Kenny fucking you whenever he wanted was something you would also like to experience

The day of his birthday, before all your friends arrived at your shared department to celebrate, you gave Kenny an envelope and told him he could open it after the party.

More to his dismay, he accepted that condition.

Of course, his curiosity won over him, and he opened the envelope in the middle of the party. Kenny wanted to know why you told him, and after reading the content, he understood.

“As a birthday present, I will let you free-use me for a week :).”

Kenny felt his pants tighten at the thought. Was this real? How did you know his recent fetish?

Kenny couldn’t care less, the fact that you were giving him this as a present was everything he could’ve asked for.

Now Kenny had a new dilemma. If he told you he wanted to fuck you in that instant, you would find out he didn’t wait for the party to end as you told him, and what if that was enough reason for you to not give him that present. Kenny couldn’t let that happen.

So he exited his room and tried to distract himself, but it was Kenny. Let’s be honest. He’s horny 24/7

Instead of enjoying the rest of the party, he could only think about where he will fuck you. A week where you will let him do whatever he wants. If he wanted, he could be inside your pussy all day long.

Ok, maybe not to that extent, but still, a week fucking all the time he wanted has pure heaven.

When the party ended, Stan, Wendy, Kyle, and Bebe stayed behind to help you and Kenny clean the mess that was left.

When you were almost finished, Kenny grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you to his room. You hadn’t finished closing his door when he already had you pinned over it, holding both of your hands to each side of your head, and you smirked.

“So you’ve read it.”

“You have no idea of all the things I’m gonna do to you.”

Before he could do something else, you heard Bebe and Wendy shouting they were finished, and after telling them you would call them tomorrow and thank them, you listened to the front door shut.

And that’s basically how it started the Free-use week.

During the "free-use" week

Kenny took the free-use thing seriously.

He woke you up, eating you out like you were his last meal, and then proceeded to fucking you.

Making you give him a blowjob whenever he was watching TV or playing video games. Hell, he would even make you suck him off if he was on a call with the guys or if he was at class. He didn’t care.

He also took advantage of the fact that you were having online classes too, and since he wanted to feel his cock inside you but didn’t want to disturb you that much, he told you he wanted you to cockwarm him.

You didn’t fully understand his request at first, but after a brief explanation of the term, you accepted.

Not only because, in the end, it was his birthday gift, but the idea of him just inside you was excellent.

And, of course, after your classes, he proceeded to pin you down on your bed and fuck you until you came at least 3 times.

He also didn’t care if you were showering or preparing food. He just fucked you right there.

But what you liked about all this thing it was that Kenny also made sure you were enjoying it as much as he was.

There were times when some classes required you to turn on your camera, so during those classes, you just gave Kenny a handjob.

What you really enjoyed was all the dirty things Kenny said to you during this week.

Your favorite one being, “I can’t believe even after fucking you restless, you’re still so tight for me.”

Something about the fact that only for him you would ever do this helped him to treasure this even more.

After every fuck, he made sure you were pleased, and he also gave you aftercare.

Even if free use meant fucking whenever Kenny wanted, there were moments when he could see you were tired, so he only asked you to cuddle him, which was really sweet, but still, you ended up doing something sexual after every cuddle session.

It was like the two of you couldn’t get enough of each other

When the last day of the week arrived, you and Kenny took your time; for some reason knowing this was going to be the last time you would fuck so freely made the two of you enjoy it more

It wasn’t as hard and wild as all the time you fucked this week. It was slow and sweet

Kenny washed your body with wet kisses and filled your head with so many compliments that it made you lightheaded

It was almost midnight when the two of you were just lying on his bed, enjoying each other’s presence in silence

“Did you like your present?” you asked Kenny. You already knew the answer but needed to hear him say it.

“I loved it. I’m bummed out it’s finishing tho,” he sighed. You lifted your body and used your arm as a support so you could see his face.

“Well, we’re still within the week. Is there something you wanna do before the week finishes?”

Kenny only wanted to do one thing he didn’t do during the week.

He grabbed your cheek and kissed you on the lips. You could feel his tongue wanting to enter your mouth.

You were surprised at first, but you quickly let him enter your mouth

Kenny moved your body so you could straddle him

You stopped when the two of you were starting to get out of breath, which, to be honest, both of you hated since you were enjoying the kiss.

While you waited for Kenny to say something, you fixed the hair that was falling on his forehead that was also covering part of his eyes.

Kenny didn’t want to stop. For the first time, he was able to have you whenever he wanted without the fear of telling you he wanted you more than a friend and ruining your friendship, and he didn’t want to say goodbye to that ever.

“I don’t want this to be over.”

You also didn’t want it to finish, you knew Kenny pretty well, and you knew he wasn’t referring to only the sex.

“As I said, is there something else you want?” you asked again but changed your word selection this time, hoping Kenny would catch up with what you were implying.

Fortunately, Kenny did understand this time.

“Be mine, please.”

You smiled and only nodded in response

This definitely was Kenny’s best birthday present ever

n a v i g a t i o n

Kenny’s Birthday Week Celebration.

#south park smut #kenny smut #kenny mccormick smut #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick #south park kenny #south park #south park imagines #south park x reader

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alchemie-tarot · 10 months

Text

How To Walk Your Talk

Hello! It’s been a while. I felt like this slightly ambitious (for me) pick-a-card topic needed a ton of energy and discernment to execute, and so I really took my time with it. I intended it for Aries season but, oh well... Look, another fire season Leo is just around the corner!

Take a breath. Feel free to choose the pile/s that call out to you. Some details may not make the mark and that’s natural, since this is a general reading. Please don’t take it too seriously as well. Nothing is set in stone. My objective has always been to channel messages that may help its readers in any way.

Yes, these are more sunset pictures from my sunset photography cache.

Pile 1

Cards: 5 of Swords, Queen of Cups, Death, 8 of Wands, Page of Cups, 10 of Wands, 7 of Pentacles

Your Talk is about overcoming conflict with other people. You’re proud of being able to defend yourself at all costs, from those who “attack” you and don’t believe in you, in particular. When you do, there’s a winner takes all kind of feeling. Proving yourself against any kind of criticism is a win. You definitely are not one to hold back and, if worse comes to worst, you can cut deep if you feel like you need to.

You think that this is the way to prioritize yourself. The way to show yourself love. It doesn’t seem to matter to you if you end up not having a lot of intimate ties because of this. You believe that the worst betrayal is the betrayal of your own self.

I think this Talk of yours usually comes out when it has all been said and done. Something about you making sure you have the last word. You may wait to strike when the other party has their guard down. You may also want your Talk to have a potent and instantaneous effect on its listener. You tend to make sure there’s no room for them to say more, to potentially dismiss or disprove you. You’ll cut the conversation if you have to.

What you may not realize is that this hurts your objective either way. Yes, you’re an advocate of yourself, but this behavior makes them see you as a “child” who doesn’t really seem to know what they’re saying and thinks little of consequences.

Under this bravado of yours, I sense an expectation to be understood. It may be that a part of you hopes that someone with an x-ray vision meets you with empathy, instead of the dismissal or outright opposition you know so well. Sometimes, other people’s emotions simply do not run as deeply and strongly as yours. What matters to you may be something they don’t personally read too much meaning into.

Pile 1, your Talk seems to be taking a toll on you more than you would like to admit. This kind of vigilance is a lonely burden to carry. Do not get me wrong, though, it has paid off somehow when you learned to protect yourself. You’re impenetrable, but at what cost? You leave out the potential good that can touch you in significant ways.

Spirit urges you to put the sword down for a bit and look around you. You can’t make the most out of your life by always being on the defense. To truly Walk your Talk, you need to uncover the root cause of all this defensiveness. Do you think that being alone is worth turning away the compassion that you can receive? Is that what you really want? Continuing down this path will only push that possibility further away.

Try to look over everything that you have gone through so far, but with curiosity to understand rather than a restless need to justify. I hear a suggestion, to redefine your boundaries. Take a rest, too, Pile 1, I believe you really need it. It will all pay off either way, but there is room for grace that may benefit you more than you could imagine.

Pile 2

Cards: 7 of Cups, 10 of Wands, 2 of Wands, The Hanged Man, 8 of Wands, The Emperor, Death

You think that daydreams get in the way of real life. Fantasy is a way to escape responsibilities and that it ultimately ends up being a burden since it’s technically not really a “way to live.” You think having too many choices is more inconvenient than it is exciting. Most of them are simply distractions, temptations to veer off course.

You may be a really pragmatic person for the most part. For some, though, I see that you are not necessarily repulsed by the rose-tinted perspective, but that this kind of ambition is too much work to actualize. It’s something that would force you to choose between what is necessary and what is ideal. Grounded, longer term goals are more important to you, anyway. Not letting yourself get carried away is an act of bravery to face reality.

I sense that you’re surrounded by people who don’t really agree with your way of thinking. Perhaps a lot of the people around you have quite lofty dreams and, maybe at times, have too much faith in their abilities. You may think that they could learn a thing or two about staying in one’s lane. On the other side of that, they may think that you’re self-righteous and quick to judge. They see you as a person of action and laser focus in your own right, but your Talk about achieving such goals suffers because, well…some goals are idealistic and unlikely by nature. That’s what makes them goals!

As far as it goes, you seem to be really Walking your Talk. To a tee, in fact. A little too firmly, perhaps, to the point where you may be getting complacent.

Something you should know about this Emperor's energy that you have is that, no matter how strictly the Emperor follows a certain system, he would still strive for something beyond him. Why would he need to stick to the current reality if it could be changed and improved? With his power and position, why not seek what would commonly be thought of as “impossible”? What is good, and for good, is always worth a try.

There can be more than logic to make the most out of the goals we form– a touch of compassion on yourself and your circumstances can truly transform those goals into more than ticks off a to-do list, you know? Instead of resisting changes in plans, welcome them as a potential channel for breakthroughs. Even if they entail a little imagination from your part to materialize. Nothing wrong with letting yourself dream a little, Pile 2.

Pile 3

Cards: The Hermit, King of Cups, 8 of Cups, The Star, Justice, The Sun, The Empress

You keep this Talk mostly to yourself. You’re in quite a period of serious introspection, Pile 3. Gathering strength and gaining inner wisdom. You want to master yourself: your inner workings, your emotions, your psyche, the subconscious– and you believe that this is the way. You’re trying to find balance by going within and spending time with yourself.

You carry out this Talk in the times you walk away from things you determine no longer serve you. Things you don’t see developing positively or going anywhere. Leaving behind those spilled and empty cups. For now you have been withdrawing a lot on an intentional and well-meant level. To be honest, the Talk here is Not Talking, and so it manifests that way… through silence. Focusing on what you would like to move ahead towards.

You want people to see this as what it is: your way of healing. You want to be seen as someone taking their time at the moment. There’s a factor of distance, the not wanting to be disturbed by outside energy. Minimizing your availability. This is all about you right now. There is also something about finding yourself that you may have lost connection with at an earlier point. You want to achieve that peace and somehow let that energy seep through and act as its own protective barrier.

And you know what? The people around you believe that you are undergoing what you rightfully need. They see and understand what you’re trying to do. You have their support, and many are even cheering you on from afar. This is such a positive message, Pile 3! They believe it’s a victory in itself to see you in the process of bouncing back. The way you are holding everyone, including yourself, accountable for the things that should be so. They think that events are finally turning in your favor.

Getting The Sun for asking how your Walk looks right now is really one of the best things I have seen for this pick-a-card. It is so lovely to see that this is making you happy. I am happy for you, too! If you’re not quite there yet, trust that you will be. You will find that light you’ve been seeking in the dark depths of yourself that you bravely traversed. I’m telling you, what a shining light it is that you will find. You’re genuinely finding your way back to your inner child. Keep going and they will have more blessings to give you.

If you are feeling up for it, Spirit offers that you can take it up a notch by exploring more ways to nurture your soul. I see letting your imagination expand, creating things with your hands, pampering your body. Whatever has happened, Pile 3, know that it’s not too big for you to overcome. Your Walk is such a profound journey to a revival… You’re very close to experiencing the fruits of your labor. Sending you my warmth, Pile 3!

Pile 4

Cards: Death, Ace of Swords, 8 of Pentacles, 6 of Wands Rx, 5 of Cups, The Hanged Man, The Star

Change starts in your head. Change starts from within. Your Talk is giving me coach or counselor vibes, mostly of the spiritual kind. You may have gone through a major life event at some point in your life, however it applies to you. This may have pushed you then to speak about these major, life-changing events. You think that they are opportunities to grow. Signs to cultivate a new mindset. The best way to ride with it is to be sharp and alert, and to fight with all your might.

You seem to be quite methodical and stubborn about it. I hear you could have catchphrases of some sort, along the lines of “everything happens for a reason,” or that “you can get through anything if you just tried and worked hard enough.” Like I said, you may have experienced such events in your life already and it seems like you’ve seen enough to point out certain patterns. You developed a sense of anticipating how long something may last, where it is likely to lead, what’s next, etcetera.

You want others to see how humbled you are because of these experiences. You want to gain their support, partly because you feel that it solidifies the validation of your Talk. Here’s the thing, though: the insistence of your experiences have been rubbing some people off the wrong way. You’ve been taking your narrative to an unclear length. It’s not your bravery and openness that they have reservations about, but the fact that it’s starting to sound like a broken record. At the end of your anecdotes, what message does it all lead to? Some are getting the impression that you’re stuck in some way with that period in your life instead of presenting solutions or forward steps to move on from it.

I think you see yourself as a champion for these life-changing experiences, to the point where your way of expressing or living out the empowerment you preach seems like an effect of the hold it still has on you. Deep down, you may feel some level of uncertainty to step out from its familiarity. Where were you supposed to go next? Maybe a part of you is also wondering, is this all I'm ever gonna be talking about and be known for?

I can’t help but notice the comparison of the cards Death and The Star: Death, clad in armor, and The Star, shining in their nakedness. Spirit urges you to take off that armor. You don’t have to justify yourself anymore. It won’t always be a battle. Yes, what happened has happened, and it has affected you deeply. It helped you be stronger as a person, but you have to realize that you’re still wielding it in a way. You can’t truly move on even if you simply turned the weapon around– you’re still holding it. There comes a point where you have to take it out of your hands.

Your Talk will become more potent and natural that way. You will find a calm about yourself and this Walk will draw you the support that you need and deserve.

Pile 5

Cards: Ace of Cups, Justice, The Fool, Judgment, 7 of Wands, Knight of Pentacles, The Devil

All is fair in love and war is the first thing I heard. This is seriously your Talk. You’re a go-getter, especially the emotional, creative, watery kind. Not just a go-getter, but a kind of rule-breaker, too. You focus your sights far, far ahead. I’m seeing that you don’t really read too much or think too deeply into most things. When something catches your attention, you just take it and make a run for it, I’m hearing. What an interesting Talk.

You want people to realize how awakened you feel and how liberating it feels in general to be in that mindset. You want people to see how many paths and options it opens up for them. To you, even though it sounds contrary, it actually narrows down and leads to what you really want– and then absolutely taking it at all costs. You see this as a road to inner wisdom and taking responsibility for one's own life. You think this is a primal kind of behavior and it’s only natural to give in to it as humans.

However, people mostly just see that you’re setting yourself up to be in a constant, if not lifelong, struggle. They think you’re too high up in your worldview and that you could be taken down a notch. Even if they won’t necessarily call you out or actively try to humble you, they believe there will always be something or someone to challenge you, and that it’s not really a worthwhile thing to keep up forever.

As far as it’s going right now, your Talk is coming to be your Walk, quite naturally. As chaotic as this mindset is perceived, there is a diligent and grounded way that you’re implementing it. You really believe in its value and it shows in your actions. Not much can shake you about it, I see.

In order to achieve your wants and goals in the best way, Spirit urges you to take some time to look at your shadow. Try to take a look if you’re acting out fully aligned with those goals, or are you simply carried away from the addictive feeling it brings? There’s a benefit to taking everything with a sense of moderation, no matter how you choose to live your life. Is there something deep-seated that you ought to acknowledge, that instead of giving you that “freedom” it could actually be a kind of blockage? Do you really believe that these are the rules of the world or did you impose them on yourself? Reevaluate what freedom is to you.

Pile 6

Cards: Queen of Pentacles, 8 of Wands, 3 of Swords, Knight of Swords, Queen of Swords, Page of Swords, Knight of Cups

You believe that financial stability and reaching certainty in physical comfort are easy come, easy go. One should always be maximizing their time to be productive. Opportunities shouldn’t be wasted and the only things worth aligning with are those that lead to this state of living. Anybody you encounter is a potential for your network. There is no time for sitting back. You should always be ready. Go past or eradicate anything and everything standing in your way.

While your Talk is one that is supposed to be motivating by nature, the way you deliver it seems imbued with an element of fear. “Do this or leave yourself vulnerable. Hardships eventually catch up, so you better keep on moving.” I think you may be one to say that no matter how secure one is, one shouldn’t be chilling out too much. It can easily be lost in a blink of an eye.

You want to be seen as someone who means well and is only doing everything they do to help. You want to be seen as an embodiment of your Talk: always on the move and, for some reason I heard, looks cool while doing it. Willing to do whatever it takes.

Others see that your Talk is clouding quite a bit of your actual vision of it. They do see that you do not give up easily. Your directness is admirable, if not a little bound to the notion of having to always be on the next thing after finishing the previous. You look so far ahead you’re practically living in the future than the present. You’re also hardly paying full attention to the things you currently have, born from all the hard work you’ve put in.

Well, you seem to be using a lot of your words at the moment, I hear. Talking and talking. To people with like-minded goals, and to yourself? I'm getting that it’s because you feel quite flighty at the moment. Are you okay? When was the last time you took a breath? There’s a bit of anxious, running-on-fumes energy. You seem to be highly inspired, though. Bursting with ideas, in fact. For now, these plans mostly stay as plans.

Like all things, balance helps with feeling stable within yourself. Spirit urges you to get in touch with your emotions at the moment. Access what’s behind that flighty energy. You have the goals, the plans, and the direction. What you lack right now is a sense of being grounded enough not to run yourself ragged. Intuition plays a big role in this– yours wants to tell you something. It also won’t hurt to learn how to handle things, especially yourself, with more grace and compassion. Appreciate your ideas as themselves and not just a means to go somewhere else. It’s okay to not think about the goods right now. Think about what genuinely fills your cup.

Thank you for interacting with this post of mine. Always take care of yourself. 💜✨

#pick a card #pick a pile #general reading #pac #tarot #tarot reading #pick a card reading #pac reading #tarotblr #divination #tarot community #how to walk your talk #tarot message #guidance

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